A Wedding on Christmas Street

by Ivy Pembroke

Genres: Family Life; Holiday books

Synopsis

'Heartwarmingly festive - if only all streets were like Christmas Street!' Ali McNamara

Sam is about to propose to his girlfriend Libby, and his neighbours in Christmas Street all think they know the right way to do it. With their help - and sometimes hinderance - Sam gains a fiancée and the wedding planning begins.

Meanwhile, Sam's nine-year-old son Teddy and his friend Pari - with their constant companion Jack the street dog - are fascinated by the arrival of a mysterious new neighbour on the street who has rented the empty, run-down house. Their attempts to spy on her are thwarted by her staying indoors with the curtains drawn most of the time. But soon Christmas Street begins to work its magic and Millie is reluctantly drawn into street activities.

As Millie starts to relax into thinking she can have a different life, maybe even with Jasper, the local carpenter, someone turns up from her past to threaten that. But with all of the street looking out for her, Millie's Christmas will be filled with hope and promise.

Release date: November 15, 2018

Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group

Print pages: 352

Sample

It’s already time for another school year! Where did the summer hols go? We here at Turtledove Primary School look forward to welcoming all of our students back for another year filled with fun learning!

‘Coo, coo,’ said Sam Bishop, and held up the post, where in among the usual junk mail was an actual letter from Turtledove Primary School.

Libby Quinn looked up from where she and Teddy were working on a jigsaw laid out on the coffee table and grinned. ‘Oh, look, that means school is around the corner!’

Teddy groaned dramatically and fell backwards onto the floor. Jack, the street dog who happened to be visiting them at the moment, came over to Teddy, tail wagging, to make sure he was okay, and sniffed at him curiously.

‘Oh, please!’ Libby laughed at Teddy. ‘As a teacher, I am mortally offended by your behaviour right now. School is a delightful place you should be happy to return to.’

‘I’d be happy if you were still my teacher,’ Teddy said. ‘I don’t know about this new person.’

Sam was rather glad Libby was no longer Teddy’s teacher; it made the fact that Libby was now Sam’s girlfriend much easier to deal with. ‘Mrs Dash,’ Sam announced, reading from the letter. ‘She sounds nice.’

‘You’re basing that off her name,’ Teddy said, and Sam thought how Teddy at the ripe old age of nine was exponentially more pitying of his father’s hopeless cluelessness than he had been at the age of eight. ‘How can you possibly know anything based on her name? She sounds nice? So did Maleficent.’

‘Actually, Maleficent sounds evil, like the word “malevolent”,’ replied Sam.

Teddy made the epic sound of disgust perfected by sons with regard to fathers.

‘Well,’ Libby said, ‘I know Mrs Dash, so I can say, on more than the basis of just her name, that she’s a wonderful teacher and you’re going to have a great year.’

Teddy made a face.

‘Coo coo,’ said Sam, using the traditional Turtledove Primary School method of greeting, and waved the school letter around.



That night, getting ready for bed, Libby groaned dramatically and Sam lifted an eyebrow at her. ‘You sound just like Teddy.’

‘I can’t help it,’ said Libby. ‘School is right around the corner!’

Sam laughed and crawled onto the bed with her. ‘What happened to being mortally offended at the idea that going back to school isn’t the best thing to ever happen?’

‘Oh, that’s just show for the kids,’ Libby said. ‘The end of summer hols is always terrible. New kids to get used to, new morning routines to develop …’

‘I’m sure the new kids will be great,’ Sam said. ‘And I hear good things about your new morning routine.’

‘Oh, do you?’ said Libby, grinning up at him.

‘I hear your new morning routine makes really excellent breakfasts.’

‘You burn, like, everything,’ said Libby.

‘I suppose I do,’ Sam replied good-naturedly.

‘I mean, the only thing I can really truly trust you with is cereal,’ Libby continued.

‘I have other advantages,’ said Sam, leaning over her.

‘Oh, do you? What are they, exactly?’

‘Ha,’ said Sam. ‘You’re so hilarious.’

‘That’s one of my advantages.’

‘I can’t even argue with that,’ sighed Sam, settling on his back next to her. ‘You win.’

‘Do I?’

‘I mean, it’s true that you’re hilarious and I’m bad with everything but cereal.’

‘I have every confidence that if there were a way to burn cereal, you would find it.’

‘Thank you for your support in the matter,’ replied Sam gravely.

There was a moment of companionable silence. From the Pachuta side of the wall came the sound of Emilia on the drums.

Libby remarked, ‘I can’t believe Teddy sleeps through that.’

‘I don’t think he does,’ Sam responded drily. ‘Pretty sure he just stays up as late as he pleases. We’re the old folks who are too exhausted to keep up with him.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ said Libby, and gave Sam a little affectionate nudge.

Sam chuckled. ‘Fair enough.’

There was another moment of silence, and then Libby ventured, ‘I had a great summer.’

Sam turned his head to look at her next to him on the bed. ‘Me, too.’

She smiled at him, laugh lines crinkling along her eyes, and Sam kissed the tip of her nose because he couldn’t help it. Sometimes she was too adorable not to be kissed.

‘It’s been a great year,’ said Libby.

‘Has it been a whole year?’

‘Basically. I mean, definitely since we first met in the supermarket.’

‘Ah, yes, and I wooed you over beetroot.’

‘It was all very smooth, and stunningly romantic.’

‘I’ll never forget how you looked standing there holding your carrots,’ said Sam, and curled a strand of Libby’s auburn hair around his finger. ‘And I’ll also never forget how you looked when I walked into that school classroom and realised you were my son’s teacher.’

Libby laughed. ‘Well, imagine my shock in return!’

‘I feel like you should have warned me when you met Teddy in the market! You could have said, “I teach little boys around your age, just FYI.”’

‘I can’t just go around saying that to every little boy I encounter! That would be creepy!’

‘Well, it would be weirder for me to ask every person I encounter, “Do you think you might be my son’s teacher?”’

Libby snorted. ‘Well, I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t think you’ve ever met Mrs Dash. She is a person you’d remember meeting.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Sam, stomach sinking a little. ‘That doesn’t sound like Teddy’s going to be in for a good year.’

‘Oh, he’ll be fine. Mrs Dash is a great teacher, really good with the students, they all adore her. It’s just that she’s also a character.’

‘And what does that mean?’

‘Hmm.’ Libby gazed at him reflectively for a moment, then grinned. ‘No, no, I think I’ll let you see for yourself. It’ll be a delightful surprise for you.’

‘Impossible,’ Sam said. ‘There’s no way she could be a more delightful surprise than you.’

Libby, after a moment, leaned forward and kissed him, smiling softly.



The house seemed unbearably quiet without Libby and Teddy in it. Sam wasn’t used to that any more. He wandered through the rooms feeling a little sorry for himself in his loneliness and wishing he hadn’t let Jack out to visit Bill Hammersley next door.

Which was probably the most selfish thought he’d had in a while. Jack belonged to the entire street and needed to visit everyone, and also Bill, who was older and lived by himself and didn’t have any visitors other than Jack and the rest of the street, especially needed the company (even if he liked to pretend that he loved to be alone).

Sam was supposed to be working. He had a million items on his to-do list. But he always had a million items on his to-do list, so that didn’t exactly inspire him with ambition. He was never going to finish them all, so he might as well take a few minutes and call his sister Ellen.

She answered with, ‘Hello, little brother. How are things?’

‘Fine,’ he said automatically. ‘What are you up to? Are you busy?’

‘Between clients at the mo,’ she replied. ‘So I’m all yours, good timing. I mean to ring you anyway.’

‘Oh?’

‘Sophie and Evie want to take some photos of the designs they did for your house.’

This gave Sam pause. His teenage nieces had been enthusiastic decorators but their designs hadn’t been what anyone would call practical. ‘I, uh, took the stalactites in the lounge down. They remember that, right?’

‘Yes, but you left up that wallpaper they chose.’

‘Because wallpaper is an enormous bloody pain to remove,’ Sam pointed out.

‘Anyway, they want the photos for their portfolio.’

‘Their … portfolio?’

‘Their design portfolio.’

‘They have a design portfolio?’

‘Online,’ Ellen said impatiently, as if Sam wasn’t making any sense at all.

‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t they teenagers? They aren’t even in uni yet.’

‘Sam, waiting for uni to start your career is so last century, please enter the modern world with the rest of us. Teens have to start driving their online brand as soon as possible, and the photos from your house will really help Sophie and Evie.’

‘Wow,’ said Sam. ‘I’m reconsidering the idea of having a teenager.’

‘Too late,’ Ellen replied blithely. ‘You already have your child well on his way.’

‘Damn,’ said Sam.

‘So anyway, we’ll probably be by at some point so the girls can take photos. And I can probably bring some takeaway on whatever night I come, so Libby doesn’t have to cook and she doesn’t have to eat whatever you try to cook. Bonus all-round for her.’

‘Everyone has been so hard on my cooking lately,’ said Sam. ‘It’s been a theme.’

‘Easy target,’ Ellen explained.

‘It is that,’ Sam agreed, and let the conversation lapse.

‘Sam?’ Ellen asked after a moment.

‘Still here,’ he confirmed.

‘You called me,’ she told him. ‘Was there something you wanted?’

‘I …’ Now that he had rung Ellen and found himself having to say the words out loud, he had a momentary moment of panic. What the hell was he doing? Why had he decided that he could do any of this? It was utter madness and Ellen was going to call him on it immediately.

And then he looked at the photo on his laptop, open so that he could ostensibly work. It was a selfie he’d taken of himself and Teddy and Libby on an outing to the Cotswolds they’d had over the summer. In it, Libby and Teddy were clutching ice creams and balancing on an old stone wall, and they were both laughing at the position he’d had to contort into in order to capture the selfie. It had been a golden, gorgeous afternoon, and in the long, dusky twilight Teddy had ducked into a hedgerow to explore and Sam had kissed Libby back against the branches and neither one of them had protested at the scratchy, unyielding prickliness of their touch. On that day, on the way home, Sam had thought of other moments from his past, of other joyful, oblivious kisses punctuating stolen, secret, insulated days, and how unlikely they had seemed to reoccur. And how now he … had them again.

‘I’m going to ask Libby to marry me,’ he heard himself say to Ellen, his voice steady and matter-of-fact, the statement as unremarkable as a statement about the weather or the grocery list, as undeniable, as inevitable.

Ellen screamed loudly enough that Sam had to hold the phone away from his ear.



Teddy arrived home from school first, walking back as usual with Pari Basak, his best friend who lived two doors down. Sam waited outside for them, and Bill came out to join him, letting Jack loose into the street.

‘He’s been moping all day about the children being gone,’ grumbled Bill, obviously trying to sound like he didn’t approve. But Sam, of course, knew by now that Bill’s default position of disapproval was just an act.

‘He and I should have moped together,’ Sam remarked. ‘It was bloody lonely in my house all day.’

‘Lonely,’ harrumphed Bill. ‘In my day, we didn’t go on about such nonsense. Lonely! We called it peace and quiet and we got stuff done.’

‘Yes,’ Sam agreed, hiding his fond smile because it would only make Bill grumble more.

Teddy and Pari appeared at the top of the street, and Jack barked as loudly as possible to alert everyone to their presence, circling around them and making little leaps and pirouettes to punctuate his glee. Pari was chattering a mile a minute to Teddy, who was interjecting every so often.

‘Hello, kids,’ Sam called out when they got close enough.

‘Hi, Mr Bishop!’ Pari called back happily, and waved enthusiastically.

Teddy waved as well. He didn’t look as gleeful as Pari but he didn’t look miserable either. He looked like he was doing some deep thinking about everything that had transpired at school.

‘Hello, Teddy,’ Bill said, with the guff sternness that betrayed his concern. ‘How was school?’

‘It was good,’ Teddy said thoughtfully, and then burst into a smile, so Sam believed him. ‘Can I go to Pari’s for a bit?’ Teddy asked him.

‘Can you tell me how school was first?’ Sam asked. ‘How’s your new teacher?’

‘OMG,’ said Pari.

‘What does that mean?’ asked Sam.

Pari rolled her eyes.

‘Dad,’ said Teddy, plainly embarrassed beyond words.

‘I mean, I know what it means,’ Sam defended himself indignantly. ‘I know what it stands for. I just don’t know what it means with regard to your new teacher.’

‘She is something,’ said Teddy emphatically, handing Sam his schoolbag, because apparently Sam’s primary occupation these days was His Son’s Butler.

‘Something bad or something good?’

‘She’s amazing,’ Pari said, as she and Teddy went running off.

‘Something good!’ Teddy called back.

‘He’s so informative,’ remarked Sam to Bill.

‘He said it was something good, that’s good enough for me,’ said Bill, and headed back into his house.

Sam carried Teddy’s backpack into his own house.



‘Mrs Dash is going to be my hero,’ Pari announced, with firm finality.

‘Who’s this?’ Emilia Pachuta asked. She dropped a bowl of grapes onto the coffee table for an after-school snack and sat next to Pari’s older brother Sai on the floor. Sai was dating Emilia, who also lived next to them on Christmas Street, and so that meant that Emilia was always hanging out with them.

‘Our new teacher,’ Pari said.

‘They have Mrs Dash,’ Sai said.

‘Ohhhh,’ said Emilia. ‘Yeah, totally hero material.’

‘How was school for you two?’ asked Pari.

‘Dead pointless,’ Sai said, ‘because I could stay home all day streaming me playing videogames and making tons of money.’

‘Not according to Dad,’ Pari reminded him, because that had been a constant fight in the Basak household recently.

‘Whatever,’ Sai mumbled. ‘Dad has no idea.’

‘You should listen to your dad,’ Emilia said. ‘Videogames might be a good hobby but they’re probably not going to be your career. I mean, you don’t see me quitting school just because I’ve joined Amazing Spiders.’

‘Joined what?’ asked Teddy.

‘Amazing Spiders. It’s my band.’

‘Oh,’ said Teddy. ‘Huh.’

‘It’s a great name, right?’

‘Right,’ said Teddy. ‘Yeah, absolutely.’

‘Teddy and I are going out into the back garden,’ Pari announced, taking one final grape and standing, ‘because we have a lot of work to do.’

‘What sort of work do you lot have to do?’ asked Sai, looking surprised.

‘Important work,’ said Pari, very importantly indeed, and then led the way outside confidently, followed by Teddy and Jack.

They all settled in the back garden, even Jack, who, understanding what a momentous occasion this meeting was, ignored the squirrels to sprawl out on the grass with them.

Pari said in a serious Grand Leader voice, ‘I think the time has come to take what Mrs Dash said today to heart, and make a difference.’ She tried to say it with the same impressive grandiosity Mrs Dash had used to say the phrase. She probably couldn’t achieve quite Mrs Dash’s level but Mrs Dash had had years of practice. Pari was sure she was still rather impressive.

Teddy said, ‘Okay. How?’

Pari opened her mouth to inform him exactly how, and then closed it again, and then frowned. After a moment she said, ‘Huh.’



Sam actually was working when Libby walked in, although he’d taken his laptop downstairs.

‘Hello,’ he said pleasantly. ‘How’d your first day go?’

She smiled at him and dropped onto the couch next to him and disrupted the computer on his lap so she could kiss him. And then she said, ‘Good. Really well. I just needed to get back and into the swing of things.’

‘Good group of kids?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. They seem very sweet.’

‘What about the parents? Any attractive parents?’

‘I’ve found my attractive parent.’

‘I was asking for me.’

‘Ha ha,’ said Libby. ‘Where’s Teddy? I was hoping to hear how his day went.’

‘Well, naturally he is off with Pari, no doubt rehashing everything that happened. But he seemed to like Mrs Dash. Pari seems to think she’s amazing.’

Libby chuckled. ‘Yeah, she can have that effect. Well, I can’t wait to hear Teddy’s adventure of the day over dinner tonight.’

The doorbell rang.

Sam glanced toward the front door curiously. ‘Who could that be?’

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Libby, and leapt to her feet. ‘Oh, no! I’m totally running late!’

‘Late?’ echoed Sam, confused. ‘Late for what?’

‘Oh, God, did I forget to tell you?’ said Libby, even as she rushed out to open the door. ‘I told Pen I’d start going running with her after work.’ Sam heard Libby open the front door and then say, ‘Hi, Pen! I’m so sorry, I just got home and haven’t changed yet.’

‘That’s okay,’ Pen responded cheerfully. ‘I can wait.’

‘Give me two ticks,’ said Libby. ‘Sam’s in here, you can chat with him.’

Libby went jogging up the stairs and Pen Cheever, the freelance writer who lived at the end of the street, came around the front door and into the lounge with Sam. ‘Hiya,’ she said.

‘Hello,’ Sam replied.

‘You’re not going running with us?’

‘I am working,’ Sam said, gesturing to his closed laptop on the side table. ‘Very hard.’

‘I am also working very hard. Running is great for writers’ block. Plus, it can really clear the brain and give you a bump of energy. It’s an endorphin rush. You know? I wrote an article on it once.’

‘I am going to take your word on all of this,’ said Sam amiably.

Libby came jogging back down the stairs.

‘I can’t convince Sam to come jogging with us,’ said Pen.

‘It’s okay,’ said Libby dismissively. ‘He’d only cramp our style.’

‘And what style is that?’ asked Sam innocently.

‘Ha.’ Libby finished pulling her hair back in a ponytail. ‘We have a lot of style.’ She leaned over and pecked a kiss on Sam’s lips. ‘I’ll be back later.’

‘See you,’ Sam said. ‘Have a good run.’

And with that Libby and Pen went off to be healthy runners and Sam sat on his couch like a lump pretending to work.

Maybe, he thought, he should get out of the house.

The latest trends in interior design will make you wonder why your walls are still the same boring shade they were when you moved in. And isn’t it about time you did something about that horrible old carpet?

A few doors down on the street, Max and Arthur Tyler-Moss’s house was the same level of base chaos that Sam had come to expect from it, but it was the sort of chaos that felt warm and welcoming and almost irresistible. It was chaos born of love and that was a different sort of chaos altogether.

Their adopted baby Charlie was crawling all over the place grabbing at anything he could, which sometimes was toys and sometimes was decidedly not a toy.

Either way, Max seemed calm about it.

‘The house has been baby-proofed,’ he said. ‘Arthur was insistent. So maybe Charlie is playing with a couple of pots and pans, but it’s fine.’

Charlie certainly seemed to agree, banging the pots and pans around with profound enthusiasm.

‘So,’ Max continued, setting tea down in front of Sam, ‘to what do I owe this visit? The usual procrastination?’

‘Yeah. Libby’s started going running with Pen.’

‘They didn’t invite you?’

‘Not exactly,’ Sam hedged.

Max barked laughter. ‘You didn’t want to go.’

‘Well, I mean—’ Sam began to defend himself. Then he sighed. ‘No, I didn’t want to go.’

‘I know exactly how you feel, and it’s how I feel every time Arthur suggests that we develop a more balanced diet. Must our significant others have so much ambition?’

‘I suppose it’s part of why we love them,’ Sam decided.

‘Excellent point.’

And because Max was his friend and because it was the type of decision he kept feeling himself compelled to share with others, Sam raised his voice to be heard over the racket Charlie was making with the pots and pans and said, ‘I’ve decided to ask Libby to marry me.’

Max gasped dramatically enough that Charlie stopped banging his kitchen tools to look at his father in concern. But then Max said, ‘Oh, Sam, that’s wonderful! Charlie, keep banging away, love, this calls for a celebration!’

‘And what a celebration,’ Sam said, pleased at the fuss and also vaguely embarrassed by it. He’d felt that way at Ellen’s reaction, too.

‘For what it’s worth, not that you were waiting for my approval – or, I don’t know, maybe you were, because I do have fabulous taste – but she’s a catch and delightful and the two of you are delightful together so: huzzah, is my final assessment.’

‘Huzzah?’

‘Yes. It’s apt.’ Charlie banged particularly enthusiastically on his pot. ‘Charlie agrees.’

‘Well, good. I’m happy about the huzzah.’

‘And also happy to be shortly engaged, I assume.’

‘Yes. If she says yes. It’s weird, I …’ Sam took a deep breath and exhaled into a heavy sigh. ‘I keep thinking I should feel more conflicted.’

‘You feel conflicted?’

‘No, I keep thinking I should feel conflicted. And instead I … I don’t. It doesn’t feel like the last time I felt this way, but it shouldn’t. And it doesn’t feel like a betrayal of Sara, because it isn’t. It just feels like … I always thought that I’d just know, if the right person ever came around again, if lightning struck twice. And … I did.’

Max smiled at him softly for a moment as Charlie banged away with his pots and pans. And then he said, ‘I am not the right person to talk to about this.’

This surprised Sam, who would have thought Max was the perfect person to talk romance with. ‘You’re not?’

‘I’m sure there are many people you could talk to who would be sensible and tell you that emotions aren’t to be trusted and you should make decisions with your head instead of being carried away.’

‘Is that what Arthur would say?’ guessed Sam.

Max laughed. ‘He would have done, when we first met. I don’t think he would as much any more. But my point is that I’m never going to be the one to talk you out of this, mate, if that’s what you were looking for.’

‘No!’ protested Sam. ‘That’s not what I was looking for at all! In fact, I wanted you to validate me!’

‘I will absolutely validate you. I knew the moment I met Arthur that I was going to marry him.’

‘I assumed,’ said Sam, because … yeah.

‘So. How are you going to do it?’

‘How am I going to do what?’ asked Sam blankly.

‘The proposal!’ exclaimed Max, and looked down at Charlie. ‘Sam is so very silly sometimes.’

‘Oh,’ said Sam. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t really decided on anything yet.’

‘Well, it’s imperative,’ said Max. ‘You have to do it right. You’re going to be telling this story the rest of your lives, so you want it to be a good one. It can’t just be, “Oh, whilst we were washing the dishes one night, I asked her to marry me.”’

‘It would be unexpected, though,’ Sam ventured.

Max gave him a look. ‘Everyone might say it was a sweet surprise but they’d all be judging you on the inside.’

‘Ah, but that’s going to happen anyway,’ joked Sam.

‘How did you do it the first time? With Sara?’

‘Oh, you know, I …’ Sam scratched his nose. ‘We were washing the dishes.’

Max burst out laughing. ‘Oh, no. Were you really?’

‘Yeah,’ Sam admitted.

‘Well, I didn’t mean to belittle you so directly when I came up with the dish-washing example.’

‘It’s okay.’ Sam waved his hand around. ‘It was doubtless a questionable tactic. I was young. It can be excused.’

‘Yes. You are not excused this time around. You should come up with something spectacular.’

‘Hmm,’ said Sam. ‘No pressure.’

Max shrugged.

‘Did you propose to Arthur?’ asked Sam.

‘I did.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I bought a new suit.’

‘Aww, you wore a dashing suit to propose to him?’ said Sam.

Max looked indignant. ‘How dull. No. I planted bits and pieces of the suit all along our house. It was a treasure hunt. The suit was designed to make sure Arthur was motivated to play along with the treasure hunt. He isn’t always. But also he can seldom resist puzzles and logic games, and I knew that, so all the clues I created were meant to be intriguing little challenges for him. It was glorious, watching him try to work them out.’ M. . .