I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,123

the box was a note, and under it an elegant black wallet, again bearing the head of Medusa in gold, at the bottom right-hand corner.

My dear Luke

I hope this finds you well.

I have bad news. I’m afraid my wonderful Charlie sadly passed, not long after we waved goodbye to you. It was quick and peaceful, which in time will bring me some comfort I’m sure, but not at the moment. His funeral is at Tuckwitt Church, 11am on 25th January, dress code: black and smart. Please come, let us all be the Figgy Hollow Six for the last time.

Charlie asked me to send this wallet to you. He bought it but never used it. He always said he intended to give it away to someone whom it would suit more than him. The Medusa logo is very interesting because she had a gift of making people fall in love with her and making it almost impossible for them to unlove her again. You are as magnetic as she, Charlie said. We both grew so very fond of you in our short time together.

Please come and say hello to me on the 25th, and say goodbye to Charlie.

With my very best wishes

Robin xx

‘Oh no,’ said Luke, shaking his head regretfully. ‘That’s so very very sad. Charlie died.’

‘Ah, I’m so sorry, Luke. You will go to the funeral of course,’ said Carmen.

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ said Luke.

25 January

Chapter 38

The weather couldn’t have been more different than it was a month to the date ago. After the coldest December for many years, England was experiencing the mildest January on record. The sun had been bright in the sky since the new year and had fooled the bulbs of snowdrops, hyacinths and crocuses to pop out early from the soil. The trees were sprouting leaves and blossom buds were forming; the grass was verdant after being so hydrated. The day of Charlie’s funeral could have been one of spring May, not mid-winter. Only more of the same was forecast.

Bridge and Mary filed into the small church. Or at least it looked small from the outside, but its narrowness was deceptive as it was disproportionately long. A bride in heels would have bunions the size of walnuts by the time she got to the altar, Bridge thought. The dress code had been strictly adhered to; everyone was in black, men were smart in suits, many women sported hats and fascinators. They slipped into a seat at the back on the left; the front half of the pews on either side were already full. The heady scent of Stargazer lilies drifted over to them from the surfeit of flowers adorning the ends of the pews and showy displays at the front: roses and Christmas foliage, great scarlet heads of poinsettias shouting in beds of holly and ivy. An organist was playing church musak, something halfway between a dirge and one of the less jaunty hymns. An air of respectful solemnity pervaded but also the mood prevailed that people were attending for love rather than duty.

Mary looked around for a familiar face, the familiar face. Would he come? She felt not unlike being sixteen and hanging around the entrance to the school disco hoping that the captain of the football team, Jock Briggs, would turn up. Then he did and it was as if someone had poured a jug of joy into her heart. It emptied when she found him snogging the school ‘it’ girl an hour later. She should have learned then to stay away from any boy whose name was a variation of Jack, it was bound to not end well.

Bridge read the order of service that had been handed to them when they walked in. On the front: A Celebration of the Life of Charles David Reuben Glaser and a photograph of him looking like a portrait by Van Dyck with his long, thick salt-and-pepper curls, moustache and pointy beard. He was sitting at a table in a garden, holding up a glass of champagne. In front of him was an enormous slice of cake, every inch the bon vivant. He was smiling and she imagined that behind the camera Robin was telling him that the cake was for photographic purposes only and he was strictly not to eat it. On the back was a black and white image of a much younger Charlie in a tuxedo, looking handsome and slightly vampiric with his long, dark locks and trademark arrangement of