It was funny to see Effin out of his fluorescent-yellow jacket. He had a shirt and tie on, and he was linking arms with one of the biggest, ugliest women Eve had ever seen. He was pointing things out to her and she was nodding and listening to him, and it was more than evident how proud he was of his contribution.

'Well, I don't know how you did it, but you did,' said Violet, coming up behind Eve and putting a hand on her shoulder.

'We did it,' corrected Eve. 'It was a joint effort. Everyone had a part to play.'

'You look lovely,' said Violet, lifting a shank of her cousin's loose dark hair before letting it fall. 'You shouldn't ever tie it back again. It makes you look years younger like this.'

But Violet knew it wasn't just the hair that was doing that. Since the candle had gone out, she had felt Eve move back into the world with them again. She had watched her face soften over the days, seen a brightness return to her eyes.

'Is that invitation still on to spend Christmas with you lot?' asked Eve on a whim.

Violet smiled. 'Eve, you would make us all very happy if you did. Mum's freezer is bursting at the seams with food. Patrick has got her the world's biggest turkey. It's like an emu.' She linked her arm through Eve's and squeezed her. 'That's just the best news I've had in ages; Mum is going to be so made up. We'll buy you a Fuzzy Felt. You can't change your mind, you know. You've just entered a verbal contract.'

'Good. Hold me to it,' said Eve. She didn't want to be alone this Christmas. She wanted to be with her family, eating around Auntie Susan's big table, clinking glasses, laughing at corny Christmas cracker jokes. She wanted to make some fresh memories of lovely Christmases and stamp out all the unpleasant ones of years past. The decision to spend Christmas with her family might have been a hastily decided one but boy, it felt so right and brought a lovely thrill of anticipation with it. It was as if she had moved into that giant snow globe at last. She was no longer peering in from the outside. Christmas was all around her and she was part of it and it was part of her.

And in the first week of the new year, Darklands was going up for sale, she decided. It was too big a house for herself to rattle around in with old, cold memories. The house deserved to be full of life and light and children it was the final act of letting go.

'Have you heard from Jacques?' Violet asked softly.

'No,' said Eve. Violet saw her gulp a ball of emotion down as she said it. 'I'm not sure I'll ever hear from him again.'

'I thought he might have turned up. Hot-tailed it back from Australia. I know it was a mad thought, but it's no madder than what else has happened in the past three months.'

Eve didn't say that she had hoped for the same. She so wanted him to be here and see his creation, because this Winterworld wasn't the one she had envisaged. If shingles hadn't driven her to bed, she would have ridden rough-shod over so many of Aunt Evelyn's plans. Holly wouldn't be here and consequently Noel and Blizzard, or the Schneekugelmuseum. There would be no people dressed as snowmen or as many elves, and she had recruited more in the past week an elf brass band who were presently gearing up to play to the visitors. This Winterworld was the glittery, Christmassy nightmare she would have fought every step of the way to prevent happening and what a mistake that would have been. Jacques Glace had been loyal to Aunt Evelyn in a way she wouldn't have been. And because of him, she could feel her aunt's approval floating down with every snowflake from those giant German snow machines. He, more than anyone, deserved to see the smiles of everyone who walked in through the gates.

She wanted to email him, say 'Come home, Jacques. Because this is your home and your Christmas family are missing you, dear Captain. I am missing you and your daft flirtations and your SpongeBob SquarePants phone sock on your desk.' But he deserved better than her. She had never met nor was she likely to meet again anyone who was as brave and honourable. And she, as he once so delicately put it, was a mess.

Eve hadn't contacted any celebrities to open up the park there was only one person who could cut the huge red and green ribbon and let the crowds in Santa. He was in position on his motorized sleigh, ready to ride to the front gate. He looked amazing and even more real than usual. Next year they would have reindeer pulling that sleigh.

'Are we all ready?' said Eve. She raised the glass of mulled wine which she had in her hand. 'A toast to the good ship Winterworld and all of us who sail in her. And to you, darling Aunt Evelyn. You've given so many of us so much, I only wish you were here to see your dream come true. And a toast to you, dear Captain Jacques wherever you are.' Come back to us. Please.

Glasses were raised and touched together. The elf band leader counted in his musicians and they followed Santa's sleigh to the gate playing 'Winter Wonderland'. Fat flakes of snow drifted down on their heads from the machines and the atmosphere couldn't have been more filled with Christmas if it had tried. Not the Christmases that Eve remembered, though, but Christmases she had read about, seen on films: mince-pie scented, cosy fireplace-warmed, snow-filled, happy, contented Christmas. The sort of Christmases she would have from now on.

'Welcome,' said Santa's booming voice. 'Welcome to Winterworld, my friends.'

And the masses poured in, gasping at the snow, the lights, the elves, the snowmen, the cabins, the lovely enchanted forest, and the train waiting to shake their bones. The soldiers and their families were first in, the children running here and there, not knowing which direction to go in first.

'I want to go to the ice-cream parlour.'

'I want to go on the train.'

'Santapark.'

'Reindeer, before the crowds.'

Eve felt a tug at her sleeve. Phoebe was pulling her down so she could whisper in her ear. 'Oh Auntie Eve, it's perfect.'

And it so very nearly was. The only thing missing was Jacques, and if he had come through the gates, Eve thought her heart might leap out of her chest to greet him. But he didn't.

Chapter 55.

Six Months Later 'Job a hanner bois. Dw i'n browd o chi gyd.'

'Oh 'eck, Effin's off on one again,' Eve chuckled, hearing the little Welshman's voice blasting at his workmen. The park hadn't been the same since they had finished work in December. Thank goodness lots of new plans had been approved and Effin and his men were now back here working.

'Actually he's saying, "That's a job well done, lads. I'm proud of you",' smiled the young pretty blonde who was walking at her side: Thomas the Tank's step-daughter, Myfanwy. She had been Eve's PA now for four months and was a total godsend. The log cabin office was a much jollier place with her in it and Gabriel. The cat's home hadn't been able to sell him and so Eve bought him from them. He sat in the corner with the baubles on his antlers and for a reason that Eve could never fathom, he made her smile every time she saw him.

'Get lost,' grinned Eve. 'You can't talk Welsh. You lied to me.'

'Honest,' said Myfanwy. 'I'd get him to the first-aid cabin if I were you. By the way, can I nip over and get an ice cream?'

'There's a shocker,' said Eve. 'Go on, I'll wait.'

Myfanwy crossed to the ice-cream parlour, now run by the new manager Janet, as Violet and Pav had returned to Carousel. Still, Eve saw a lot of Mr and Mrs Nowak and her Auntie Susan, who had married Patrick on Valentine's Day. It was so nice to see those she loved happy and being looked after. Violet and Pav had decided to have a baby they were just waiting for her to 'catch on'.

'It can't be long,' Violet confided. 'We're at it like rabbits,' which made Eve crack up with laughter because Violet wasn't one for crude talk. Still, her lavender eyes looked as if they had a 1000-watt light-bulb behind them these days.

Eve watched Myfanwy studying the flavours in the cabinet. She always spent ages looking, only to pick the 'Reindeer Nose', which had big cherries in it. She took even more time to decide when Janet's big handsome son Robbie was working there. He had a look of a young Jacques Glace about him albeit one smaller and younger with brown eyes, instead of blue ones, full of mischief.

Eve hadn't heard from Jacques since the night when Jonathan's flame died. He had gone off to Australia and she had ploughed all her energies into making the park as successful as could be. But six months down the line, as proud as she was of her achievements, it wasn't enough. A part of Jonathan would be with her always, and with the passing of time, she had remembered how much he had loved life, that he would want her to live and laugh and love. He had blossomed young, Evelyn had blossomed old. Neither of them would have wanted their Eve not to have her time to flower.

There was a lot of shrieking going on at the other end of the park, which was closed for two months whilst the builders worked flat out. The train tracks were being extended, the increasingly popular wedding chapel was being enlarged, and two more honeymoon log cabins were being built. A children's roller coaster and the Snow Globe experience were being erected in Santapark, and a craft market and more toilets. Holly had a new companion a young female reindeer called Ivy and there was a small sanctuary for snowy owls who couldn't, for one reason or another, be released back into the wild. One of them Stephen was a real character, very tame, and delighted crowds of children with the tricks he could do. He and his handler gave two shows a day and Stephen never tired of showing off. Jacques would have loved the owls, she thought. She could imagine him literally charming them out of the trees. Her thoughts often strayed to him. She hoped he was happy.

'He's gorge, isn't he Robbie?' said Myfanwy, returning with her cherry-studded ice cream. 'I reckon he's on the verge of asking me out.'

'Oh definitely,' said Eve. 'His pupils dilate to the size of dustbin lids when he sees you.'

'I know,' said Myfanwy with a confident casual sniff as she licked her ice cream.

'Lot of shouting going on over there,' said Eve, as another round of noise hit the air. 'Shall we go and have a look what's going before we head over to the gift shop?'

They walked through the enchanted forest, something which Eve never tired of doing. She still got that magical prickle under her skin whenever she was in there.

'Morning, missus,' called an engineer who was servicing the snow machines from up a tree.

'Morning,' sighed Eve. She never did become 'Captain' in the end. She was stuck with 'missus' and probably always would be.

'Who's that?' said Myfanwy, pointing in front of her.

'Can't see that far,' said Eve.

'Great big tall bloke with a cowboy hat on. Hang on, it's one of those Australian things with all the corks dangling off it. All the builders are crowded round him.'

Eve's heart stopped in her chest for a beat. No, it couldn't possibly be. Her pace accelerated so much that Myfanwy couldn't keep up.

'Hey missus, look who it is,' called one of the Welsh lads. And the big tall man turned around and it was him in yet another silly hat. He grinned and his blue, blue eyes sparkled against his antipodean tan.

Eve felt her heart thump against her chest wall as if it was making a bid for freedom, though her legs suddenly glued themselves to the spot. She couldn't move, even her breathing seemed to stop.

'Well, there you are,' he said in an exaggerated Aussie accent. 'Long time, no see, Sheila.'

'You're telling me,' she managed on the little remaining breath she had inside.

She had mentally rehearsed what she would do if she ever saw him again. She saw herself running up to him, throwing herself around his neck and raining kisses on his cheek, but now he was actually here in the flesh, all she could do was stand there and not breathe.

'I came back to see my girl,' he said, then added, 'Holly.'

'Ah,' said Eve.

'It's the antlers. I love a woman with antlers.'

'I'll try and grow some.' Her mouth wanted to grin, so she let it.

'You could do anything you set your heart on, Eve Douglas.'

Jacques made 'see you later boys' noises at the builders, then he held out his big hand towards Eve. 'Take a walk with me, missus.'

She moved slowly towards him, his hand curled around her own and together they fell into a slow stride.

'A postcard would have been nice,' she said, as they headed for the heart of the enchanted forest.

'Absence makes the heart grow fonder,' said Jacques, his grin equally as wide as hers had grown.

'Out of sight, out of mind,' parried Eve.

'Never thought of that one,' chuckled Jacques. 'Have I been out of your mind then?'

'No.'

Jacques stopped. 'No? Is that all I get? I don't know. I come back to marry you and that's the extent of your declaration of affection for me.' And he carried on walking, tugging Eve forward when her legs stopped moving.

'You're unbelievable,' said Eve. 'I never thought I'd see you again.'

'I told you I would marry you on our very first meeting. An officer and a gentleman never breaks his word, you should have known that.'

'Well, I didn't.' Her tears began to fall, happy tears full of relief.

'Ah, you're sounding snotty again. I thought I'd come and book your wedding chapel. I've seen on the internet that it's been a big hit. I saw the grand opening on YouTube too it looked fantastic'

'Yes, it was perfect. Well, it would have been but something was missing.'

'Me?'

'A hotdog kiosk.'

Jacques threw back his head and laughed. The sound filled the forest. My God, how she had missed that ridiculously loud, annoying, rich-as-a-Christmas-cake boom of a laugh.

He was leading her towards a circular bench which had been fitted around one of the tree trunks. There was a brass plaque on it which read, 'In memory of Christopher, the biggest, best and most beautiful snow pony in the world.'

'Anyway it's 'our' wedding chapel. You might have made a letter of intent, Jacques, but I never accepted it. That would be going against Aunt Evelyn's wishes, so any profits due to you have been banked separately. Don't buy a penthouse yet, though. This is one big, expensive place to run. We're opening up a Christmas tree farm this November, which should up our income. We've planted acres more. And we're extending Santapark.'

Jacques sat down. 'I hear you don't charge entrance fees for families of the military still.'

'No,' said Eve, sitting beside him.

'Any plans to end that?'

'No.'

He smiled a smile that reached right up to his blue eyes. 'Do you say no to everything?'

'No.' Eve's eyes began to twinkle too, like the little lamps hung between the trees.

Jacques put his hand on her cheek. It felt so soft. She looked soft. Her hair was loose and long around her shoulders and his fingers strayed to it. He had thought of this moment so many times, wondered how long he should leave it before returning. Gambling that she would miss him, think of him, have space in her heart for him at last.

'Dear Eve,' he said. 'You look beautiful with your Christmas tree eyes. Should I ever leave you again?'

'No,' she said, her mouth a smiling arc that wanted his placed upon it. Now.

'If I tried to kiss you, would you push me off?'

'No.'

'Do I need mistletoe in order to do that?'

'No,' she replied, and watched his mouth slowly and tantalizingly descend upon hers. As their lips touched, she felt him shift into the place in her heart which was ready and open for him with Jonathan's blessing. His kiss was like the best Christmases ahead of her, waiting for her to enjoy, all come at once.

Sometimes our light goes out but is blown into flame by another human being. Each of us owes deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light.

Albert Schweitzer.

Acknowledgements.

As always a massive thank-you to the team at Simon & Schuster for their support, affection, kindness and patience: Suzanne Baboneau, Ian Chapman, Nigel Stoneman, Maxine Hitchcock, Clare Hey, S-J, Ally, Dawn, Rumana, Georgina . . . everyone there. And to my darling agent Lizzy Kremer. It's always a bonus when you feel the people you work with are your friends too.

Thanks to my little son George for all the coffees whilst I was working and to my big son Terence for setting up all the gadgets. What would I do without either of you?

Diolch o gallon i Owen Williams who has been an 'effin' godsend. I'm sorry I made you translate so much filth, Owen especially as I rather enjoyed doing so.