Because outside the hotel wasn’t just a doorman in a top hat.

Outside the hotel was Ru. Five minutes early.

Who on earth turned up early?!

I pulled Billy’s dressing gown over my face. Please don’t let Ru notice me. Cara. My family.

“Put your foot down,” I hissed to Mum, like she had a side hobby as a getaway driver.

“Mols, they park your car-slash-beloved-camper-van for you, you know?” She shimmied her shoulders. “So posh!”

“Can we not park it ourselves?” I spat. This could not be happening. “In fact, let’s go back a street. I’ll get out. Check that it’s the right hotel?!”

“But it says ‘The Strand’.” Mum waved at the doormen. Then flicked Cara’s lights on, illuminating the front of the hotel like a school disco.

Everyone turned to look.

I slid down in my seat.

And now Mum was beeping and Cara was blaring “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” to the poshest street in London.

And Ru was…

I could hardly bring myself to look.

I peeped out from under the dressing gown.

Ru was … smiling. And waving. At me?

There was nothing for it. I pulled the dressing gown off my head, pretended I’d only just noticed we’d arrived and waved back.

“Is that your friend?” Mum said. “Now I can see why you didn’t give us more details!”

She laughed in a way that I wasn’t a hundred per cent OK with. Nice to know my own mother thought Ru was out of my league. I jumped out.

Ru looked even better than I remembered, even if he’d failed to bust out the merest smidge of festiveness. Still, I hadn’t warned him what I had in store. He was in a long black coat, grey scarf, black baseball cap, black hoodie.

Think positive, Mol. Maybe I’d remembered my outfit worse than it was? The doorman saw me and tumbled backwards into a Christmas tree. Not the confidence boost I was after. He scurried over to help Mum unknot herself out of Cara, and Ru walked towards me. I tightened the belt on my dressing gown. This was happening. I’d rehearsed and rehearsed what to say. The perfect witty, hilarious, seeming-as-if-I’d-just-come-up-with-it greeting to go with.

Which I’d completely forgotten.

“EYES UP!” I yelled. “Do not look down,” I said, pointing – which made him instantly look. “I said, don’t!!!!”

“Hello to you too,” Ru laughed. “And don’t worry, I completely haven’t noticed the raisin print pants. Or exceptionally fluffy Christmas slippers.” Cringe. Die. Mortification. “Although…” He flicked out the lapel of his coat – there was the tiniest, teeniest enamel reindeer pin on it. “Look! New purchase! Festiveness! I got you one too, to replace the one you lost in Edinburgh.”

What? I looked at him blankly! Oh yes! The imaginary one!

“Thanks,” I said, after too long a delay. But my pin was really cute. Two little entwined smiling candy canes. I pinned it on. “Also, did I mention that’s not our car? Had to borrow it from those neighbours I told you about.”

Too late. Ru was looking at Cara like she was a limited edition sportscar.

“Wow, it’s a Christmas wagon!”

Billy bounced over before I could reply.

“Do I know you? I think I know you… Did you ride a really big Lipizzaner?” she said in full interrogation mode.

“It’s a horse,” I said, putting my arm around her. Ru didn’t even do a double take at my little sister clutching a fake horse’s tail with a boiled sweet stuck in it.

“And I know you too?” Uh-oh. “You’re Tilly?” I went full coughing fit. Did I cover it? “Who won best in show with … Spud? Did I get that right?”

He even remembered to say pony, not horse. Billy blushed. I was today years old when I discovered she was capable of this.

“Oh.” Ru reached into his tote bag. “I thought you might like this.”

He passed Bil a chocolate, gold-foil-wrapped horse. Billy didn’t say anything. My sister was speechless. A WORLD FIRST. I could not wait to tell Tess.

“Next time I need to silence her, I know what to do.” I ruffled her hair. “And what do you say, B-Tlllmmmy?” I mumbled something incoherent. But Billy was staring at the horse like Ru had passed her actual baby Jesus.

“And I got these for your mum. For when she’s done checking in.” Ru passed me a metal tin that said “Biscuiteers”. His presents were so posh! Inside were the most perfect iced biscuits I’d ever seen. Little presents, Christmas trees, sleighs, even polar bears in Christmas hats.

“Thanks,” I said, overwhelmed. Was this boy for real? He’d turned up with thoughtful gifts for my family – and I hadn’t even worn outside clothes? I was SO out of my depth. “You’re basically the three wise men right now. Except one. And with better gifts. I mean, who wants myrrh?” What was I talking about?! I needed to get in, get changed, reset. “Look, I’m really sorry, but would you mind just giving me fifteen minutes to…” Check I don’t smell of BO? Brush my hair for the first time today? “Freshen up?” I winced. “Long journey.”

Of course, he said it was no problem, so I did my most confident walk into the hotel – then ran as fast as I could as soon as he was out of sight. I don’t think the conference room of business people in suits expected to see a Christmas pudding sprint past, but it wasn’t my fault I had a hot wise man waiting for me. And fifteen minutes later, with dripping wet hair, make-up sliding off over my moisturizer and a damp T-shirt, cardi and jeans on (no time for the towel stage), I was in the lift back down to the lobby, trying to catch my breath.

I stared in the mirror.

It was fair to say today’s look was “right mess”.

And – I full-body shuddered as I remembered – I was also meeting Joseph D Chambers looking like this?! If I looked a state now, what would I look like in a few hours?! When I was meant to be going on a private boat trip on the Thames with the world’s sexiest man (not Grace being dramatic, he’d actually picked up an award). GULP! I’d forgotten there were going to be photographers too?!

The lift doors pinged open. Ru was sitting on one of the sofas scrolling his phone. For a second I felt calm. In all the worrying, had I forgotten that this was going to be fun?

But then Ru looked up and made eye contact – and every single bit of calm pinged out of me and got replaced by pure panic.

What was I going to speak to this specimen about? He lived in America! Travelled the world! Bought classy gifts!!

And me? I was wearing socks that said “Molly’s Mistle-toes” with tiny bells sewn on. Tess had made them. And in my pocket were the pair we’d made together for Ru.

Time to be brave.

“So, I’ve got a question.” I sat next to him. “You know how you and me don’t like Christmas?” He nodded. “Well, how about we don’t? Not like it. Just for one day.”

“Hmmmm.” He dropped his head to one side, not convinced.

“Being stuck in traffic meant I had some time to look up some stuff we could do?” Truth was I’d been working on this plan every single spare second since we’d agreed to meet and had ten pages of notes ready to go. “For one day only. Go hot turkey.” He looked confused. In fairness, I didn’t know what I was talking about either. “Like cold turkey, but hot. All the Christmas. As in, even Father Christmas would be like, ‘Whoa, that’s a bit Christmassy, isn’t it?’”

But Ru didn’t laugh; he looked … scared.