‘Give her my love.’
They went in different directions and Bryony drove to her mother’s, picked up Lizzie and headed for home.
Lizzie was so excited she was bouncing in her seat like a kangaroo and Bryony felt something tug at her heart.
‘It would be great if Santa brought you that nice new doll you saw,’ she said, but Lizzie shook her head.
‘I don’t want to be greedy. A daddy is enough.’
And after that Bryony fell silent, totally unable to find a way of persuading her daughter that her dream might not come true.
She cooked tea with a cheerful smile, hung the stocking on the end of Lizzie’s bed and left a mince pie and a glass of whisky by the fire for Santa.
‘Do you think he’d like more than one mince pie?’ Lizzie asked, and Bryony shook her head.
‘He’s going to eat a mince pie in every house. That’s rather a lot, don’t you think?’
‘Can we leave carrots for the reindeer?’
‘Sure.’ Bryony smiled and fished in the vegetable basket, hoping that Santa’s reindeer weren’t too fussy. Her carrots had definitely seen better days.
Lizzie bounced and fussed and squashed some of her other presents but finally she was bathed and in her pyjamas.
‘This is going to be the best Christmas ever.’ She hugged Bryony and snuggled down, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. ‘Santa won’t come while I’m awake so I’m going straight to sleep.’
Bryony bit her lip and then bent to kiss her daughter. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep tight.’
And with a last wistful look at the blonde curls spread over the pink pillow she switched on the tiny lamp and left the room.
CHAPTER TEN
‘MUMMY, Mummy, he’s been.’
Bryony struggled upright in bed, watching as Lizzie dragged her stocking into the bedroom.
She looked for signs of disappointment but Lizzie’s eyes were shining with excitement.
‘This stocking is so lumpy. Can I eat chocolate for breakfast?’ She giggled deliciously as she poked and prodded and Bryony smiled.
‘I suppose so. Come into bed and we’ll open it together.’
‘In a minute.’ Lizzie dropped the stocking and sprinted out of the room. ‘I’ve got to find my daddy first.’
Bryony sank back against the pillows and gave a groan. ‘Lizzie, I’ve already tried to tell you, there won’t be a daddy.’
‘Well, not in my stocking,’ Lizzie called back, ‘because no daddy would fit in there, silly. I’m going to look under the tree.’
Bryony closed her eyes, listening to the patter of feet as her child raced downstairs, and she braced herself for Lizzie’s disappointment. It was perfectly obvious that all the dolls in the world weren’t going to make up for not having a daddy on Christmas day.
She should have tried harder.
She should have used a dating agency or gone speed-dating.
She should have tried anything.
Deciding that she’d better go downstairs and comfort Lizzie, she swung her legs out of bed and then heard a delighted squeal from the sitting room.
Bryony froze. What could Lizzie have possibly found underneath the tree that excited her so much?