I love snow! I love the auction! I love life!

But two hours later, the snow was so heavy the traffic was down to two lanes and Billy was needing to “maybe be sick” after eating two chocolate oranges … and we’d only moved fifteen more miles.

I HATED THE SNOW. Life-ruining, waste of frozen-water space.

My getting ready for my meet-or-date minutes were disappearing into this traffic jam?!

“Lucky we all had a wee,” Mum said cheerily, like she hadn’t been stuck driving for four hours and we weren’t still one hundred miles from London in standstill traffic. “I’m sure it’ll clear soon.”

But two hours later, we’d only just reached the centre of London and I was freaking out! I’d messaged Ru to ask if we could make it later, but nothing was getting delivered. Sure, he’d said he was going to have his phone off, but I didn’t know he meant off off. Not just “not replying within a minute”-off like normal people!

ARGH.

4:45 p.m. Fifteen minutes till we were meant to be meeting and the satnav said we were still thirteen minutes from the hotel car park. One and a half miles. Could I run it quicker?

I looked down at what I was wearing. Sprinting through London looking like a fluffy Christmas pudding probably wouldn’t help the whole “Don’t worry I might have a secret identity as an elf, but actually I’m quite normal” thing.

“We’ll get there…” Mum said, rubbing my knee, as we crawled down a main road with huge white mansions either side. “I’m sure your ‘friend’” – she still did the air quotes when she was driving! Probably illegal – “won’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

Few minutes? FEW MINUTES?! I hadn’t even showered! My nails were half chewed off. I had bits of yesterday’s biscuit in my hair!

“I can’t get hold of my ‘friend’.” I was so stressed, I did air quotes too. “So, if he turns up…” pleeeease let him be a late person… “you might have to stall for me?” How bleak were things if I was seriously suggesting leaving Ru with Mum and Billy? My mum, who was wearing a jumper that said “Jingle my Baubles”. And my little sister who he thought was called Tilly and was plaiting Mum’s hair through the headrest, effectively knotting her into the van for life.

“Well, I’m sure a ‘friend’ wouldn’t mind you wearing such a lovely festive outfit for your ‘friendly’ meet,” Mum said pointedly.

“Well, I’m sure I’d ‘rather’” – air quotes were officially out of control – “see any ‘friend’ after a ‘shower’.”

“At pony camp.” Billy put yet another elastic band on Mum’s hair. “My best friend wore the same jodhpurs all week. And she just smelt of horse! Which is yum.” She shrugged. “So don’t worry, Mol.”

My phone vibrated. Grace. Phew! Finally a sane person.

“HELLO?” I scrabbled to plug in my headphones. But there was silence. Nothing on the screen except … ceiling. “You OK?” Talking to her was the only thing that could stop my descent into full freak out.

“I … have … news.” The camera panned slowly down the ceiling, down her bedroom wall, past the posters of Harry Styles … and on to Grace, who was lying on her bed, her face totally blank.

“About the auction?” Had it gone up again?

“Kind of…” she said. But she didn’t look excited. She looked like she’d seen Father Christmas buying a Pot Noodle in Tesco. “I just got off the phone to Elijah.” She gulped. “And I … I … have something to tell you.”

“Grace?” My stomach was twisting. This didn’t sound good. “What kind of thing?”

“Uncategorized,” she said, blinking. “I only found out four seconds ago.”

“Do you need me to say reassuring things?” She nodded. “OK … puppies exist. I dropped fresh biscuits off at your house. And whales … just, whales.” Not sure why, but they always seemed quite chill.

“Thank you.” She nodded. “I needed that.” She took a deep breath. “So, the auction just closed. Elijah rang. Then I rang you. And now … well … no. Still processing.” Grace didn’t even get fazed by my parents throwing half-birthdays. For Sosig. The fact she needed to process was worrying. “You know your plan?” I nodded. We’d made it together. Meet Ru at five. Walk around South Bank, then Trafalgar Square and up Regent Street till around seven. Then my big idea. My big scary idea. “How much would you be up for making it a slightly different plan?”

Huh?

“What’s happened, Grace?”

She gulped. “Don’t freak out.” Too late. I already was. “But you know I said the auction for the meal with Joseph D Chambers just finished.” I nodded. “It went to a bid of…” She closed her eyes and bit her lip. “THREE THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POUNDS. AND NINETY-NINE P.”

Oh.

My.

What. WHAT?

That was enough to redecorate the whole of Holly Hospice social hall AND start a party fund that should last years!

“Seriously?” I whispered. Grace nodded, her face still in shock.

I pulled out a headphone. And yelled. Really yelled.

“WE JUST RAISED THREE THOUSAND POUNDS FOR GRAMPY G!!!!! AND ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POUNDS AND NINETY-NINE P.” Billy, Mum and I cheered so much a man in a suit gave the bright orange rocking screaming camper van a very suspicious look. But, THREE THOUSAND POUNDS?!! Harry and Elijah had come throuuuuuuugh!

But there was one person not leaping about. Grace. She was lying still, looking concerned.

“Grace?” I put my headphone back in.

“But that’s not the thing. Elijah said the bidder had a specific request…”

Oh no… Was the winner some kind of creep? Was Joseph D Chambers going to pull out? Had we actually not raised the money after all?!

“They’re not a weirdo, are they? They didn’t ask if they could…” I tried to think of something. “Lick his hair?”

But Grace shook her head.

“No, Mols. Weirder than that. The winner had one condition.” She paused. “The condition was…” She gulped. “The person that has to go to the meal with Joseph is … you.”

CHAPTER

17

If I’d been wondering what was worse than wearing furry Christmas pudding pyjamas for the only date I’d ever been on.

Now I knew. Wearing furry Christmas pudding pyjamas for the only date I’d ever been on THEN meeting a movie star.

I didn’t speak the rest of the journey. What was happening? Was Elijah playing a joke? Maybe even Harry?

And I didn’t speak as we crawled down Regent Street under the huge Christmas lights, twinkling away in the dark evening. Nor as Billy waved at a police horse that was mid arrest. Not even when we pulled into a tiny side street with our hotel at the end. It was HUGE and had baubles and canes pouring out of every window and round the pillars at the front.

It looked gorgeous.

No … it looked AWFUL!

Could we turn back?