‘Because he adores you,’ Corinne said. ‘He worships you. He’d go through fire and water for you. Haven’t you got that through your thick skull yet?’

She broke off and gave a sigh of frustration. ‘We’re quarrelling again.’

‘Yeah, well-’ He shrugged, sharing her frustration.

He was saved from needing to say any more by the sound of his cellphone coming from the hall. He answered it with relief.

It was Mark Dunsford, his assistant, as zealous about business as he was himself. Mark was jealous of Kath, who had been with Alex longer and had his total trust. He tried to compensate by giving himself to the job, body and soul, twenty-four hours a day, and making sure that his employer knew it.

‘I just wondered if you had any final instructions for me,’ he said now.

‘No way. It’s Christmas. Get off home to your family.’

‘I don’t have a family.’

‘Well, get off home, anyway. Or wherever you get off to.’

‘Wherever I am, I’ll be keeping an eye on things. I thought that you would be, too.’

‘Mark, lighten up. It’s Christmas. There’s nothing to keep an eye on.’

‘All right, but perhaps you’d better give me a contact number where you are. I know I can call the cellphone, but another number is always useful.’

He hesitated. Nothing was likely to happen, but it was as well to be prepared.

‘OK. The phone number of this house is-’

He stopped. Corinne had wandered out into the hall and was looking at him, her head on one side.

‘No,’ he said. ‘This is a private number. I can’t give it out and I’d rather you didn’t contact me at all. In an emergency, use the cellphone, but it had better be life or death or there’ll be trouble. I’ll call you when I’m ready.’

‘But-’

‘Goodbye, Mark.’

He hung up and looked at Corinne with a touch of defiance.

‘Thank you,’ she said warmly.

He put out his hand and she took it between both of hers. ‘I’m glad you came,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be a great Christmas.’

Her eyes were as warm as her voice and he tightened his hand. But the next moment she stepped back, smiling and saying, ‘It’s time for bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.’

Next morning the snow lay thick on the ground as they had Christmas Eve breakfast.

‘Are we going to see Uncle Jimmy?’ Mitzi asked.

‘No need,’ Corinne said. ‘I’ve already called the hospital and he can come home. I’m going to fetch him later. You three can go shopping.’

The children cheered, but a few minutes later Alex took her aside.

‘It’s a bit soon for him to be leaving hospital, isn’t it?’

‘Hospitals don’t encourage people to stay over Christmas, and it’s only a collar-bone. I can look after him here. Jimmy’s been kind to me.’

She saw him scowl and said firmly, ‘Alex, I am not leaving him to spend Christmas in hospital. Besides, you’ll be the gainer.’

‘How?’

‘I’ll be spending a lot of time with Jimmy, leaving you with the children. So, you make the most of it.’

For a man who wanted to be with his children it was a good bargain. But ‘I’ll be spending a lot of time with Jimmy’ had a melancholy sound.

Alex became aware that Bobby was signalling to him, and remembered.

‘So, tell me how the school play went,’ he said, tweaking Mitzi’s hair. ‘I want to know all about it.’

She produced her photo album so fast that it was clear she’d had it ready, and they began turning the pages together. There she was in a green hat and green costume with bells, giving the world her wide, gap-toothed grin.

Alex gave her an answering grin, but it was too late to smile back at her. It was only a week ago but that mischievous imp was already gone for ever.

Along with many other things.

After that he made a good job of it, showing an enthusiasm that Mitzi, the unsubtle, accepted at face value. When she’d gone away happy he met Bobby’s eyes, silently asking the child if he’d done all right. And his nine-year-old son nodded in approval.

They split into two parties. Corinne headed for the hospital, while Mitzi and Bobby piled into Alex’s car and directed him to the shopping precinct.

It was quieter than Alex had expected, with most shoppers having finished the day before. On the lower floor an amateur brass band played carols, with spectators joining in. Bobby and Mitzi enthusiastically sang ‘While Shepherds Watched their Flocks’ while Alex, suddenly inspired, sang ‘While Shepherds Washed their Socks,’ at the top of his voice, until compelled to desist by the glares of a large woman shaking a collecting box.

Under her reproving gaze he put a very large donation into the box and scurried away, his children clinging to his hands and rocking with laughter.

‘Oh, Daddy, you are funny.’ Mitzi giggled.

‘I used to sing that at school,’ he remembered. ‘It got me into trouble then, too.’

Strolling around later, Mitzi noticed something that made her gasp with joy.

‘Daddy, look! Santa Claus!’

The precinct’s Santa was just embarking on his last stint, complete with grotto and tree. Mitzi looked up at her father eagerly, but Bobby touched her arm and shook his head.

‘We already saw Santa,’ he urged. ‘Yesterday.’

‘We saw him last week too,’ she pointed out, ‘and the week before.’

Alex watched to see if his son would be stuck for an answer. But he wasn’t.

‘They were just pretend Santas,’ he said. ‘The one we saw last night was the real Santa.’

‘How do you know?’ she demanded rebelliously.

‘I just do.’

‘How?’

‘I do.’

Mitzi subsided, apparently satisfied with this brand of logic. Bobby looked up at his father and received a wink, which he returned.

‘Why don’t we go in there?’ Alex said, pointing quickly at a store that sold books, CDs and various related items.

As soon as they were inside he struck lucky, coming across a display of ‘Marianne’ picture books, with one prominently displayed featuring Marianne as a rider.

‘Has she got that?’ Alex muttered to Bobby.

‘No.’

‘Here.’ He shoved some notes into Bobby’s hands. ‘You get it while I distract her.’

The teamwork went like clockwork. In a short time Bobby was back with a parcel wrapped in anonymous brown paper.

‘What’s that?’ Mitzi demanded.

‘What?’ Bobby looked innocently around.

‘That!’

‘I don’t see anything. Do you, Dad?’

‘Not a thing.’

Making a covert purchase for Bobby was harder, because he couldn’t use Mitzi as an agent. But he struck lucky, noticing a series of video cassettes titled ‘Water-colour Technique’. Managing to catch the assistant’s eye, he mouthed, ‘How much?’ pointing at Bobby to explain the reason for silence.

She indicated the price and Alex produced his card. The videos vanished and reappeared safely wrapped.

Luckily, Bobby had started bickering with Mitzi and noticed nothing.

‘How about something to eat?’ Alex asked. All this undercover work was exhausting.

They found a café and Alex studied the menu, but the other two knew what they wanted.

‘Cocoa and cream buns,’ Mitzi said blissfully.

‘Yes, please,’ Bobby chimed in at once.

‘But what about your lunch?’ Alex objected. ‘If I take you home already full your mother will kill me.’

‘It’s real cream,’ Bobby pointed out.

‘Lots and lots of it,’ Mitzi said ecstatically.

‘Does Mummy allow you to eat cream buns before lunch?’

They considered.

‘No,’ Bobby said regretfully.

‘No,’ Mitzi agreed.

‘Well, then!’

Bobby regarded him innocently. ‘But Mummy isn’t here.’

Alex made the mistake of engaging him in debate.

‘But aren’t you equally bound by her rules even when she’s absent?’

‘No,’ Bobby explained. ‘Because it’s Christmas, so she might have changed her mind, just this once. We don’t know, do we?’

‘I suppose we don’t,’ Alex said, eyeing his son with new respect. ‘Mind you, I’ve got my phone. We could call and ask her.’

‘That wouldn’t be fair,’ Bobby said quickly. ‘Mummy’s very busy, doing last-minute things. We shouldn’t interrupt her.’

‘Ah!’ Alex gave this idea his full attention. ‘You think we could simply assume her agreement-out of consideration for her?’

‘Yes,’ Bobby said firmly.

They shook hands.

‘When you want a job,’ Alex told him, ‘come to your old man. The thought of you arguing on the other side scares me stiff. You’ve got every trick.’

‘I learned them from my dad.’

‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ Alex said at once. ‘I’m not taking the blame for your devious mind.’

Bobby grinned.

They each had three cream buns and two cups of cocoa, and Alex thought he’d never tasted anything so delicious. Then they went home to confess to Corinne. But she wasn’t fazed.

‘Fine. It’ll save me cooking a big lunch. Uncle Jimmy’s here, kids.’

Overjoyed, they dashed into the next room where Jimmy, swathed in plaster, was reclining on the sofa. Alex followed and was in time to see them climbing up beside him, moving carefully, not to hurt him.

Mitzi was on his uninjured side and put her arms about him. ‘Poor Uncle Jimmy,’ she said. ‘Is it very bad?’

‘Not really,’ he said cheerfully.

‘What did you do?’

‘Fell in the road,’ he said at once. ‘Silly me.’

Alex regarded him with mixed feelings. It was decent of Jimmy not to have blamed him. On the other hand he couldn’t like him, especially as Mitzi was greeting him with real affection. Bobby was less effusive, but he was on Jimmy’s injured side.

‘Tea up!’ Corinne called, entering with a cup.

She handed it gently to Jimmy, who smiled, receiving it, while Mitzi solicitously plumped up his cushions.

A shiver went through Alex. It was absurd, of course, but for a moment they had looked like a family.