That would be the stupid cherry on the stupid Christmas cake.
We’d planned to have an outdoor river picnic, and I’d even sneaked some breakfast pastries out of the hotel. Grace loved a mini croissant. And there she was!
“Graceeee!” I yelled, waving from the barriers at the platform. I’d made it in time to see her get off the train. But she wasn’t heading towards one of the exit gates. “Grace!!!!!” I yelled again, but she was marching towards the ticket booth – and she didn’t look happy.
“Grace?” I yelled even louder. Phew. She saw me and walked towards me. Man, it was SO good to see her. But why did she look so unhappy? Had she already heard about Joseph and this was her solidarity rage? “Everything OK? You need a hand with anything?”
She stopped, and folded her arms.
“I’m not staying long.” I knew that – we were only here for one night. “I just got off the phone to my dad.”
“Is he all right?” Suddenly all the sadness I’d had about Joseph paused. Seeing Grace like this rugby tackled it way down the priority list.
She shrugged. “Sure. He was letting me know he’d got his work to sponsor some pretty amazing lights for Grampy G’s Grotto.” Wasn’t this a good thing? “And he’d just been to drop them off at the village hall to get a head start.” But that’s when I remembered. Like a snowball in the face. I’d never told Grace about the village hall. “And they said you’d known from the start that we never had it booked?”
Oh no. Oh no, oh no!
“Oh my goodness, I meant to tell you…”
She raised her eyebrows. “And?”
I had to explain. I hadn’t done it to ruin things. I’d done it so it was one less thing for her to worry about.
“Don’t worry. I can explain. I was just waiting until…” Until I had the replacement. Oh no. A shudder went through me as I realized … I was meant to ring the yurt place this morning. Twelve p.m. was the cut off to confirm. And I’d completely and utterly forgotten.
I didn’t have a replacement, did I?
“Until?” Grace waited for me to explain. To say there had been a mix-up. That it was all under control.
But the reality was, I’d really messed up – I’d been so caught up with Joseph.
“Grace, I’m SO sorry … I know it looks really bad but I promise, I can explain.”
“All I need you to explain” – she was speaking so slowly, so calmly, her voice thick with anger – “is do we have somewhere to hold Grampy G’s party? In forty-eight hours’ time. Or do I have to head back to Bromster right now to tell everyone – all my family, Grampy G’s friends in Holly Hospice that were looking forward to it, all the people travelling down, flying down! – that instead of celebrating Grampy G, I’ve just wasted their time? And probably money too.”
Things with Joseph were bad, but nothing, NOTHING, felt as bad as me letting Grace down… Letting Grampy G down.
“Grace, I’m so sorry. I can sort it. I promise!”
But Grace shook her head, her disappointment so very clear.
“I guess that’s my answer then.” She grabbed the handle of her case. “My train home is leaving in four minutes.”
“Please!” I shouted, as she turned to go. “Whatever you do, don’t call it off!”
I was going to fix this!
But when she looked back, there was a tear rolling down her cheek.
“And you know the worst thing?” She stopped and caught her breath. “It’s not even that you messed up.” Her voice started to break. “It’s that you said no more secrets – and I believed you.”
CHAPTER
23
TO DO:
•Find a venue / build a venue / JUST GET A
•VENUE Get Grace to talk to me (cookies?? Photos of Sosig in costumes??)
•Don’t cry
•Buy waterproof mascara
“Anything more from the Christmas Cheer menu?” One of our hotel waiters dressed as an elf offered a tray of reindeer-decorated breakfast muffins and Christmas-tree-shaped pastries. Could he not see I was one Christmas item away from bursting back into tears?!
I hadn’t slept a bit. I’d spent the night staring at my phone, hoping for Grace to read any of my messages, pick up any of my calls. At least let me explain.
All these years I’d thought the worst thing that could happen to me would be everyone finding out about that stupid Christmas song. About my elf past. About who my family really was.
But Grace being mad at me was worse. WAY worse.
Forget being an elf. I was the worst best friend on the planet.
I’d left messages begging her to not cancel Grampy G’s Grotto, saying I’d sort it, even though I had no idea how – but I didn’t even know if she’d got them.
And Joseph had rung and rung me, but I hadn’t turned up to meet him and I think he was getting the message I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. His voice messages said the photo of Maeve wasn’t what it looked like. Sure. That he didn’t know how anyone had got the photo of us either.
