A Surprise Christmas Wedding - Phillipa Ashley Page 0,25

scan and check-up to see if the cancer had been treated successfully. Lottie didn’t want to add yet another layer of anxiety but, on the other hand, she knew Steph would probably want her to share such major news.

Carnthwaite was encircled by the heather-clad fells and soaring peaks of Skiddaw and Blencathra. The lights of the houses and pub twinkled in the valley as Lottie descended from Firholme. Fireworks fizzed in the sky, and there was a lingering smell of smoke in the air. The girls were off to an organised event that weekend, so they were happy to stay in on Bonfire Night itself and Steph would be tired anyway after working at the school all day.

Lottie parked outside her sister’s semi, in a small close in the heart of the village. The girls were waiting and flew on her as soon as she’d gone into the hall.

‘You’re pleased to see me, then?’ she said, hugging both girls at once. Instantly, her mood lifted and the cares of the day were temporarily forgotten.

Over dinner, she related the story about the red squirrel she and Jay had seen, and told them about the trees they’d chosen for Firholme. Afterwards, Lottie snuggled on the sofa with her nieces in the living room. The girls were as full of beans as a Heinz warehouse, despite being in their pyjamas and meant to be winding down. Lottie had taken the dishes out to the kitchen while Steph had supervised their bath time and they were all now relaxing – or meant to be – in the sitting room.

‘Is it almost time for Santa to come yet?’ Myra asked, clambering onto the sofa next to Lottie. Her damp hair was fluffy and she smelled of strawberry bubble bath.

‘Not yet, sweetheart. Let’s get Bonfire Night over first. I expect he’s busy getting ready,’ Lottie answered. ‘You know that, though. Christmas Day is still seven weeks away.’ And Connor’s wedding only six, she thought, with a lump in her throat and a rising sense of panic.

‘Santa won’t come if you keep asking when he’ll come,’ Jodie said, rolling her eyes at her sister. ‘Like Mummy says when we’re in the car. We won’t get there if you keep asking when we’ll be there.’

Myra stuck out her tongue. Before Lottie could issue a gentle reminder to ‘Be kind’, Myra had switched tack. ‘Guess what happened at school today?’ she said, studiously ignoring her sister.

‘Jonas Baxter’s brother did a poo in the garden!’ Jodie shouted and dissolved into giggles.

Myra squealed in indignation. ‘Shut up, Jodie, I wanted to tell Auntie Lottie that!’

‘It’s my story too!’ Jodie cried.

‘Girls, girls. You can both tell me, one at a time. Myra: doesn’t this Jonas have a bathroom?’

‘I ’spect so but his dad told him to do it in the garden,’ said Myra.

Lottie exchanged an ‘eugh’ face with Steph.

Jodie shrugged dramatically and held out her hands. ‘Well, how d’you expect me to know?’

Lottie was struggling to hold in her laughter. Jodie’s shrug and eye-roll were exactly like Steph’s gestures.

‘Jonas’s brother is three,’ Steph explained. ‘Apparently, his dad told him that weeing on the compost was good for it. He was only following orders, I suppose.’

‘But why should we do a wee on the compost?’ Myra asked then pushed her glasses up her nose. ‘What’s compost?’

‘It’s a place where you put the dead leaves and grass from your garden and all the insects turn it into a mush that helps the plants grow,’ Lottie said. ‘I don’t know why anyone would wee on it.’

‘But … that will kill the insects and the hedgehogs sleeping in the leaves!’ Myra said.

‘Urgh …’ Jodie poked her tongue out.

Steph laughed. ‘I’m not sure it’s the best way of looking after your garden. I’d stick to the bathroom, I think.’

Steph and Lottie exchanged amused glances.

Later, after listening patiently to more details of the twins’ day at school, Lottie helped get them to bed and stayed to read them a bedtime story, while her sister had a short break.

The twins were a joy but a handful. They were the result of a holiday romance in Spain. Steph had always had problems with her periods and hadn’t realised she was pregnant for a few months. Lottie would never forget the shock on her face when she’d revealed she was carrying twins. The father hadn’t left Steph his number and all attempts to track him down on social media had failed so she’d decided to carry on alone. It was bad