Her mother taught the reception class at the local primary school and the highlight of the year was the nativity play.
‘Then the innkeeper said, “We’re totally empty, how many rooms would you like?”’ Katy continued, curling her leg under her as she helped herself to another mince pie. ‘And Joseph and Mary were so confused they completely forgot their lines and then one of the shepherds tripped and fell on the baby Jesus and—listen to this because it’s the best one—one of the three kings said, “I bring Frankenstein.”’
Christy laughed and Ben frowned. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Because the King brings frankincense. Frankenstein was a monster.’ Katy yawned. ‘A bit like you, really.’ She reached an arm across the table and Christy removed the plate quickly.
‘Enough, or you’ll be too full to eat your tea. Go and play a game while I get supper ready.’
‘Let’s play squash the present.’ Katy slipped off the chair and grabbed Ben’s hand. ‘We’ll squeeze and prod and shake and see if we can guess what’s in the parcels. Then we’ll see if we’re right on Christmas Day.’
‘If you haven’t broken it,’ Christy pointed out dryly, dropping onion into melted butter and frying it gently. She was wondering if she had time to take a shower before Alessandro arrived home.
Quickly she browned meat, added stock, wine and herbs and slid the casserole dish into the oven.
The children were sprawled on the living-room rug, bickering over a game of Monopoly that they’d started the day before.
Christy smiled as she watched them. They argued but there was no denying the love between them. Her children were gorgeous, she thought to herself.
Deciding that she could safely take a shower without war breaking out, she sped upstairs, stripped off quickly and padded into the bathroom.
She showered quickly, washed her hair and then padded into the bedroom and stared into her wardrobe, hoping for inspiration.
What was she going to wear? Something that would ensure that Alessandro would notice her.
But nothing too obvious or she’d look ridiculous.
Katy wandered into the room, wearing jeans, a baggy jumper and stripy socks. ‘Are you going to dress up for Dad?’
Christy felt the colour rush into her cheeks. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because you’ve got a funny look on your face and you’re staring into your wardrobe instead of grabbing a pair of jeans.’
Was that what she usually did? Christy frowned. She wore a uniform for work and it was true that when she arrived home she often just pulled on the nearest thing, which was invariably jeans and a jumper.
‘Wear red,’ Katy advised, springing onto the bed and sitting cross-legged. ‘Dad always looks at you in a funny way when you wear red.’
Wondering just when her daughter had become so observant, Christy reached into her wardrobe and pulled out the red dress. It was made of the softest jersey fabric and skimmed over her curves. She’d always loved it but she hardly had occasion to wear it any more.
She’d been wearing it the night of their anniversary. The night he hadn’t turned up. The night she’d decided to leave in order to shake him up.
What exactly was happening to their relationship now?
Certainly things between them had improved dramatically. They were working together and in many ways their relationship felt the way it had before they’d had children.
But did he really care for her or was he making an effort because he valued the institution of the family so much?
She wriggled into the dress, slipped her feet into a pair of high-heeled shoes that she loved and frowned at her hair.
Should she try and straighten it?
It tumbled in crazy, dizzying waves down her back, gold and russet mingling with rich copper. Occasionally she had it blow-dried straight, but left to its own devices it curled and twisted.
Wild, passionate hair, Alessandro had always called it.
Remembering his preference, she left the straighteners in her drawer.
‘Mum?’ Katy slid off the bed and hesitated, suddenly looking less confident than usual. ‘Are we going back to London after Christmas?’