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them along with the first pile.

‘I get it. You don’t trust me. You really don’t want me to go out there … but why?’

‘Mummy, who are you talking to?’ A sleepy Alex appeared in the doorway.

‘Oh, hallo darling. You’re awake! Just to myself as usual! Now, I expect you’d like a drink after your nap and then perhaps we could go out for a walk and get some fresh air.’

‘Christmas tree,’ Alex reminded her.

‘Later darling. When Daddy gets home. He’s bringing it with him. Remember?’

‘When will he be home?’

‘Not long. After our walk.’

The afternoon passed uneventfully with a visit to the park nearby and a long session of pushing Alex on a swing. By the time they got home, Adam was already in the process of manhandling a large tree out of his Mercedes estate.

‘Wow! Fab tree!’ Emily exclaimed.

Alex’s face crumpled when he saw it. ‘Where are the sparkles?’ he wailed. ‘I want tree with sparkles.’

‘Me too,’ Emily replied. ‘That’s why we’re going to decorate it - so it sparkles.’

‘Let’s get it in through the front door first.’ Adam hefted it, with some difficulty, on to his shoulder and carried it into the house. ‘It weighs a ton.’

With Emily directing operations, the tree was established in its position in the corner of the living room and Adam lit the fire while Alex began putting baubles on the lower branches. There was something truly special about dressing the tree as a family, Emily decided. It was like a signal that the magic of Christmas had begun. When they had finished, they switched on the lights and received a rapturous reception from Alex.

‘Pretty lights!’ he exclaimed. He reached out chubby fingers to touch them.

‘Yes, they are pretty but you need to leave them alone, Alex, or they might break,’ said Adam.

‘Presents?’ Alex asked hopefully.

‘We have to wait for Christmas for presents,’ Emily answered. ‘Father Christmas won’t be coming until Christmas Eve and that’s as long as you’re a good boy. Now it’s time for tea. Daddy will take you to wash your hands while I get it out of the oven.’

After they had eaten and Alex was bathed and in bed, they decided to watch an episode of Game of Thrones with a cup of coffee and Adam went into the kitchen to make it. While he was waiting for the kettle to boil, he noticed the piles of newspapers and magazines on the worktop in the utility room.

‘What do you want doing with all this rubbish?’ he called through to Emily. ‘Shall I bin it?’

‘What rubbish?’ Emily walked through to the kitchen. ‘I tidied up today, remember?’

‘All this paper.’ Adam signalled the offending heaps. ‘Looks like you didn’t really tidy the mess – you just moved it out of sight!’

‘Oh yes, I was going to put that out earlier. Then Alex woke up.’

‘Ok, I’ll do it.’ As Adam grabbed an armful of paper, Emily noticed Molly once again standing in front of the back door. Her face looked panic stricken and her eyes were beseeching Emily to do something.

‘Er … no. Leave it. I just wanted to go through it one more time - just in case I’d thrown out something important. You know what I’m like.’

‘Only too well,’ Adam smiled ruefully. They were both remembering the time when, about to leave for a holiday in France, Emily couldn't find her passport which she distinctly remembered putting safely in her bag. After twenty minutes of desperate searching, Adam discovered it in the bin, along with the detritus Emily had decided to empty out of her handbag before they left.

Adam returned to the kitchen to make the coffees while Emily continued to watch Molly. The panic had left her face and Emily would have sworn that she looked relieved. She wandered over to the papers and began to flick through them. Could there really be something of significance in amongst all this rubbish?

‘Your coffee’s waiting for you,’ Adam called through from the living room.

If there was something important there, it would have to wait until tomorrow. With a final glance at Molly, she switched out the light and went to join Adam.

◆◆◆

It was the afternoon of the following day before Emily once again retrieved the piles of paper and dumped them on the kitchen table. Molly stood beside her, watching her intently, and Emily felt a frisson of excitement. Was she about to discover something important?

‘Don’t be silly. You’re being ridiculous,’ Emily said aloud and gave herself a mental shake. She was looking through a pile of old newspapers and magazines after all - not opening the lid of a suddenly discovered box of antiquities. Picking up the first paper, an edition of the East Anglian Daily Times, she started turning the pages, her eyes quickly scanning the headlines. Nothing. She set it to one side and picked up the next one. Again nothing. She sighed. This was going to take forever!

‘Can’t you give me a clue what I’m looking for?’ she demanded but Molly just continued to watch her with the same intensity. ‘Thought not.’ She picked up the next one. This time it was a magazine, a copy of Ideal Home. Nothing. She continued to look through every newspaper and magazine for the next hour without finding anything of interest. Simmering with frustration, she pushed the current pile to one side and got to her feet. She needed a break.

As she pushed her stool away from the table, her elbow caught one of the remaining piles and around half of them fell heavily to the floor.

‘Brilliant!’ Emily exclaimed

Sighing, she bent to retrieve them when some wording on the front of a Sunday supplement caught her eye; ‘Country retreats on a budget.’ She remembered the article. It featured a number of properties in East Anglia offering bed and breakfast accommodation. A jolt of realisation shot through her and she began fumbling quickly through the pages to find it. There were several glossy photographs of different cottages, taken from different aspects and,

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