Staying Away at Christmas Read Online Free PDF

sat in silence for a few minutes. ‘There was a little bottle of truffle oil I meant to give to Grandpa but forgot. I’m fairly sure it’s still in with the groceries I haven’t unpacked yet.’
    ‘Perfecto!’ said Isa. ‘Go and get it.’
    ‘Please!’ said Lulu.
    Isa gave Miranda the lopsided smile that so often got her out of trouble.
    Miranda went into the kitchen. The Berkleys were all watching television and didn’t notice her rummaging in her box. She found the little bottle and went back to her bedroom.
    ‘OK,’ said Isa, after the girls had wrapped and filled Dan’s stocking. ‘Do you mind going out for a bit, Mum? We’ve got things to do.’
    ‘But this is my bedroom!’
    ‘I know, but currently it’s Christmas Central,’ said Lulu. ‘Out!’
    Obediently, she left the room.
    Much later, Miranda hung four, fat, red socks on the mantelpiece and admired the effect. The room was all so Christmassy, partly thanks to Sheila’s tree and decorations, but also because someone had lit a Christmas candle and the smell lingered. The fairy lights had been left on and it almost did look like a magazine Christmas. She smiled. It was all going to be very different but it was going to be fun. Having turned off the fairy lights, she went back to bed.
    Miranda was awoken the next day by Lulu and the smell of cooking. She looked at her watch. It was half-past nine. It was unheard of for her to sleep this late, but she had been really tired.
    Lulu was holding a cup of tea. ‘Get up, Mum! There’s breakfast and we’re all waiting for you.’
    Miranda sat up and took the tea. She could smell cooking but couldn’t identify it. ‘So what are we having?’
    ‘Scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. I don’t think I like smoked salmon do I?’
    ‘You might like it now.’
    ‘I’ll try it. Now hurry up.’
    ‘Should I get dressed? Is everyone dressed?’
    Lulu thought about it. ‘Yes, but you don’t have to be. You’ll be ages and we can’t start anything until you get there. Just wear your dressing gown.’
    Miranda’s dressing gown was new, a Christmas present from her mother, she had chosen it herself. ‘Oh, OK.’
    She took the time to fluff up her hair and put on enough make-up to feel human, and went into the kitchen. She couldn’t remember a Christmas that had started with a cup of tea and breakfast cooked by someone else. Her ex could hardly make toast.
    Anthony was by the cooker. ‘Happy Christmas,’ he said, apron on and smiling. A million miles away from the man she’d first encountered yesterday afternoon.
    ‘Happy Christmas back,’ she said, aware that she was happy. It was all so different from the usual disappointments that Christmas sometimes brought with it. She didn’t need a husband today.
    ‘I have a very limited repertoire,’ said Anthony, indicating the saucepan he was stirring eggs in, ‘but what I can do, I do well.’
    Dan was buttering toast. The table had been set and someone had lit the wood burner. Miranda checked to see the stockings wouldn’t be scorched when she noticed there were now five. A silver spangled sock sat fatly beside its scarlet companions. She smiled.
    ‘More tea or coffee?’ demanded Dan.
    ‘Tea. Milk, no sugar. I don’t much like coffee.’
    ‘Coming up.’
    ‘He works in a restaurant sometimes,’ explained Amy, bringing in a plate full of toast. ‘I couldn’t find a toast rack.’
    ‘That’s OK.’ Miranda could have told her where to find the toast rack but something about Amy suggested she was expecting criticism and she didn’t want to imply that toast on a plate wasn’t fine.
    Dan then swooped in with three plates of scrambled eggs, one of them balanced on his arm. Anthony came in with two more and Lulu brought the last one. ‘This is mine,’ she explained, ‘with no smoked salmon.’
    Miranda realised that Anthony must have cooked hers separately and appreciated the gesture.
    ‘OK everybody, eat it before it gets cold,’ he said.