Free Ivy Lane: Winter: by Cathy Bramley

hour.
    I wrapped the end of the cable around the final wooden upright on the porch, climbed down from the stepladders and held my breath as I tried the electrics.
    Ta dah! At the flick of a switch the pavilion was transformed from a damp and dreary hut to a fairy-tale house. I stood back to admire the sight and pressed a hand to my mouth to stop myself from squealing. It was absolutely breathtaking.
    ‘Sterling work, Tilly,’ I murmured to myself as I moved the ladders to the centre of the porch.
    There was just one more thing to do.
    I tied a big red satin ribbon around the huge bunch of mistletoe that I’d bought from Kingsfield market, climbed back up the ladders and fixed it just above the front door.
    I smiled to myself; this would put a twinkle in many a person’s eye this evening. Kissing under the mistletoe was de rigueur at all the best Christmas parties. And this was definitely going to be
the
best Christmas party, if I had anything to do with it. My friends at Ivy Lane had done so much for me over the year and this was my way of thanking them. For bringing me back to life.
    Inside the pavilion I checked that the mulled wine was simmering nicely before switching off all the lights except those on the Christmas tree. I paused and looked around the room before locking the door, my heart swelling with pride. Nigel was right, everywhere did look wonderful. We’d set up a small Christmas tree adorned with red baubles and strings of silver beads as well as hundreds of tiny fairy lights, of course. The entire room was festooned with garlands of ivy and holly picked from the allotment and dozens of little candles were dotted about the room ready to light at the start of the evening.
    As I drove away, I glanced at the magical picture behind me, the pavilion twinkling in the darkness and the bunch of mistletoe hanging like a big question mark above the door.
    I looked away and concentrated on the road ahead.

Chapter 9
    My party outfit for this evening consisted of a short-sleeved teal satin mini dress, which floated elegantly from around my legs and gathered softly around the scooped neck. It was very flattering and, worn with a tiny black cardigan, black tights and heels, it was verging on the sexy side for the Ivy Lane pavilion, but for once, I decided to throw caution to the wind. It was Christmas after all and if I couldn’t let my hair down at Christmas, when could I?
    I ruined the effect slightly by setting off from home in wellingtons with my heels tucked into my handbag, but it couldn’t be helped. Better to arrive in wellies than with a broken ankle. I’d hoped to be one of the first to arrive in order to witness everyone’s gasps of wonder when they saw all the fairy lights, but shuffling along the icy pavements had taken longer than I’d anticipated and I could already see people inside as I approached the steps.
    As I paused on the porch under the mistletoe to change my shoes, Gemma and Mike arrived.
    ‘Christmassy dot com, Tilly! Everywhere looks amazing!’ she cried as she waddled up the steps towards me like a side-stepping penguin. Mike was following closely behind, carrying an assortment of bags in one hand and supporting his wife’s bottom with the other.
    I helped her up the last step and laughed as I pulled her into my arms. ‘Hello, you! I knew you wouldn’t let me down with your appreciation of my efforts.’
    I was so relieved to see her. Part of me had been worried that the baby would come before the night of the party and whilst I was sure she would rather be propped up in bed with a new baby in her arms, selfishly, I was delighted that she had made it.
    And she looked absolutely radiant. She wore a long black dress with tiny crystals around the low neckline with a long black coat over the top and her hair sparkled with little diamantés. The baby was due in a matter of days and I had a sudden prickle of tears as I realized that this would probably be the last time we’d see her at Ivy