Free Meet Me Under the Mistletoe by Abby Clements

Stadium, Alexandra Palace up on the hill. Just seeing the urban skyline was enough to give her a buzz. Right then, as they picked up speed, she felt like grabbing the city with both hands and never letting go.
    She flicked through to Twitter on her iPhone and posted a tweet on her account:
    Leaving London and heading for the Yorkshire dales, wish me luck! #rubbishatrelaxing
    She smiled at the one-line replies that flooded through almost immediately.
    As she read one from her cousin Andrea, she was reminded of family. Her mum. She quickly sent her a text:
    Mum, hi, how are things? Sorry I’ve not been in touch. How are you? I’m going out of London for a couple of weeks. Having a holiday. Love Lx
    A message beeped through a moment later.
    L, that’s great you’re going on holiday. Clara said she saw you. Everything is fine here, just the usual. Love and miss you, Mum x
    An hour passed, and the Victorian terraces had been replaced by roughly ploughed fields, blue skies stretching out above. The further they’d come out of the city, the louder everyone seemed to talk – the carriage was full of shrieks and chatter. She tried to focus on her iPad edition of Vogue , but she was vying for space with both her seat partner and a bulky plastic dog kennel and a cuddly husky that the little girls opposite her were playing with.
    ‘Do you want to stroke him?’ One of the little girls offered up her fluffy dog. Laurie smiled and gave him an awkward pat, pulling away at the touch of a sticky, jelly cola bottle stuck in his fur.
    After wiping her hand, being careful not to stain her cream silk top, Laurie went online. There was something wrong with her work account, she couldn’t get access to it. She sighed – she was sure there’d be messages needing an urgent response from her – and clicked into her personal one instead. She smiled to see that she had a message from her goddaughter, Milly.
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Hi Laurie,
    I just got your postcard from Beijing and it’s really cool, thank you. I’ve added it to the collection on my pinboard.
    Laurie wasn’t a brilliant godmother, she knew that – but postcards were a habit she’d kept up. She pictured her goddaughter in the photo she’d seen on Facebook – tall for her age, with dyed dark-red hair and her dad’s hazel eyes. In Milly, Laurie saw some of the spark she’d had when she was younger, a hunger to get ahead, to make a better life.
    We are heading down to London and to your flat today – it’s all a bit mad, isn’t it? I’m really looking forward to it though, I can’t wait to see a bit of the city and stay at your place. Did you tell me you have a dressmaker’s dummy there? I have a textiles project I’m bringing down to finish.
    I hope you find something to keep you entertained in Skipley, my God, it’s boring. Anyway the parentals are worried about Granny Bea, but she seems OK to me and is being all cheerful and Granny-like about having to go to hospital.
    Have a good journey,
    Lots of love
    Milly xxx
    P.S. I found an old photo of you and Mum. You are about my age and Mum has this trashy red lipstick on. The photo’s nice, though. I have one of me and my friend Kate that is almost the same.
    She tapped back a quick reply.
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Millypede! Hello.
    Great to hear from you. I hope you enjoy the flat. There’s a stack of fabrics in my spare room, where you’ll be sleeping, I think, so help yourself to anything you like for your project. And do use Matilda (my resident dummy). She gets very lonely without a bit of attention. Zak might like her as a dance partner.
    I hope Bea gets much better soon.
    Sending you all hugs,
    Laurie xxx
    P.S. Wow, I bet I had dreadful hair in the photo. They hadn’t invented GHD straighteners back then. I KNOW.
    Milly’s reply came back in an instant – ‘Your hair’s pink, actually.’
    ‘Well,’ Laurie tapped back,