Tinsel and Terriers. Cressida McLaughlin
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fun!’
‘Sounds like?’ Polly asked, frowning.
Cat stifled her gasp and stared at Jessica.
Jessica gave Polly a cat-like grin. ‘I’m redesigning my website, my whole brand. A fresh look for a new year, and you know me, I’d much rather support local businesses. I emailed Magic Mouse Designs and Joe told me he was in Portland. Some of the photos he’s been sending me – it looks gorgeous.’
‘He’s sent you photos?’ Polly asked. ‘I’ve only had two.’
Jessica preened. ‘We’re going to meet up when he’s back, but for now the email exchange is working well. I think he can see what page I’m on.’
Cat doodled a picture of a Christmas tree on her notepad and tried not to think about Jessica’s flirtatious emails to Joe.
‘Well, I —’ Polly shook her head. ‘It’s fantastic that you’ve asked him. He’ll be so busy he won’t know what to do with himself!’
‘I’d better get some mistletoe in,’ Jessica said. ‘An essential element of any Christmas party. And Joe will be a great person to manoeuvre underneath it.’
‘I’ll tell him you said that,’ Polly said, laughing. ‘I’m sure he’ll be flattered.’
‘I hope he’ll be more than just flattered,’ Jessica said, running her polished nails up the stem of her wine glass.
Cat felt her cheeks burning, her mouth drying out.
‘So,’ Owen said, rubbing his hands together. ‘What are your thoughts, Cat? You said you wanted something that could work with Jessica’s party.’
Cat swallowed, nodded and turned to her notes. ‘I was thinking of organizing some kind of game or competition that the whole of Primrose Terrace can take part in. Offices have Secret Santas and Christmas buffets, and there are always family games at Christmas – charades and quizzes. I thought about a quiz, but I’m not sure it would bring the street together in the way I want to.’
‘A treasure hunt?’ Owen suggested. ‘Taking people all over Fairview, with a Christmas theme and the prizes given out at Jessica’s party.’
They pondered this, Polly chewing her pen. ‘But if everyone knew it was ending at the party, wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?’
‘And it’s only going to get colder between now and Christmas,’ Elsie added, ‘so I’m not sure it would play to everyone’s strengths.’
‘True,’ Owen said, his head on one side, his black curls bouncing. ‘Maybe that’s more a summer thing.’
‘A competitive element would be good, though,’ Polly said. ‘That way people would make an effort.’
‘So something that can be judged, with prizes awarded at the party?’ Jessica went to the cupboard and took out a box of dog biscuits. She shook it, and the three Westies, followed by Owen’s fox terrier Rummy, and then Disco and, finally, Chalky, pattered in from the dog den where they’d been playing. She crouched, her grey cashmere shawl brushing the floor, and gave out the treats.
‘I like prizes,’ Owen said. ‘Pets win prizes?’
Cat nodded. ‘I want to involve the dogs somehow. It’s such a doggy street. Except…’ She glanced at Polly. ‘We don’t have one.’
‘No,’ Polly said, ‘but that means we could judge it. Especially as you’re the resident dog walker.’
Cat thought of Joe’s insistence that she couldn’t have dogs in the house, the hints that he and Polly had given her since the spring that the reasons were complicated. She still hadn’t got to the bottom of it, but had begun to accept it. The details that the woman at the vet’s had given her were still in her coat pocket, but she had her clients’ dogs, and she got to spend time with them every day. Perhaps she wasn’t destined to have one of her own.
‘So, one thing for the dogs,’ Elsie said, ‘one for the humans.’
‘Something sparkly and fun and creative,’ Cat added. ‘There’s loads of creativity on this road – Boris and Charles are super stylish with their bed and breakfast, there’s Frankie and the girls who are always doing crafty things, and then us.’
‘Sure,’ Polly said. ‘Just think of the banner Joe designed for your event.’
‘Exactly.’ Cat could picture it perfectly when she closed her eyes. It was rolled up under her bed, within reach whenever she wanted to have another look at it. ‘Something Christmassy and crafty.’
‘Tree decorations?’ Elsie asked.
‘Good,’ Cat said, ‘but I think it needs to be bigger.’
‘Christmas trees?’ Owen suggested. ‘People go to town with their trees.’
Cat nodded. ‘That sounds great, but…’ She frowned, thinking. ‘Something even bigger. Something we could all enjoy without having to traipse through everyone else’s house. Maybe…’ She stared out of the window, seeing the glimmering fairy lights against the reflection of them sitting round the table. She turned back, mouth open, and Jessica caught her eye.
They spoke together.
‘Christmas lights.’
Jessica’s smile was triumphant.
‘Lights?’ Polly asked, ‘on the trees? Isn’t that the same as decorations?’
Cat shook her head, dropped to the floor and pulled Disco towards her, lifting the mini schnauzer up. Disco pawed at Cat’s dress and licked her cheek.
‘Not on the trees, on the houses. Primrose Terrace is one of the prettiest roads I’ve ever seen, let alone lived on. All the houses have their own character, so why not have a lights competition? See who can decorate theirs the best?’
Owen sat up. ‘Everyone would have to decide whether they wanted to go for classy, just a couple of colours, or all-out with reindeers and Santa climbing up the side of the house. You’d have to think tactically as well as creatively.’
‘You could judge it, Owen,’ Elsie said. ‘You don’t live on Primrose Terrace.’
‘Are you kidding? There’s no way I’m being left out. I’ll help with number nine, if – ’ he turned to Polly, taking her hand – ‘if you’ll have me?’
Polly grinned, her pale cheeks flushing. ‘Of course I will.’
Cat buried her smile in Disco’s fur. The young dog yelped, jumped down and went to be overfriendly to Chalky who, having had his treat, was lying on the floor next to Jessica’s glass-fronted wine cabinet.
‘We’ll have to get someone else to judge it,’ Jessica said. ‘Someone unconnected with Primrose Terrace. Maybe someone at the Fairhaven Press?’
‘To judge a Christmas lights competition?’ Owen asked, incredulous.
‘Why not?’ Jessica said. ‘I’ve done enough interviews with them. I’m sure if I got in touch they’d spare a reporter.’ She left the room and came back with the day’s paper. ‘I’ll see if I can find someone.’
Cat swallowed, her eyes drawn to the newspaper. ‘We could ask Phil,’ she said, ‘who I’ve been in touch with about doggy events, and the protest. He might be happy to do it.’
‘Oh, of course!’ Jessica said. ‘Of course he would, silly me.’
Jessica moved the paper aside. ‘Right. Let’s think about the details and the dog element.’
‘Dogs and lights aren’t a good mix,’ Elsie said. ‘There could be chewing issues.’
‘No, you’re right, we need something distinctly dog-related.’
Quiet