*What's your window dressing budget?'

Lolly shrugged. *Well, I spent fifty dollars on that tulle, and it looks useless. I suppose I could go to two hundred, maybe a bit more.'

Asking if I could make a phone call, I found out Mrs Carlisle's number from directory enquiries and called her. The elderly woman was thrilled at the opportunity to make a substantial amount selling all the sheep at once.

*I can ask Hammertro to bring them, he is such a nice boy.'

*Hammertro doesn't have a car.'

*Doesn't he? I always see him in one.'

*Are you sure that's not a police car?'

She thought for a moment. *Oh, yes, possibly.'

I said to call a cab and put the sheep inside, and send it to LollyBliss. *We'll pay the driver this end.'

*Very good dear. And Scarlet?'

*Yes?'

*Thank you.'

Lucinda and I put up a sheet so that the window display under construction was hidden from shoppers, and once the sheep arrived, we began our work.

It was pretty hilarious watching the girl from the Upper East trying to jam a jumper on a stout fibergla.s.s sheep, and I had to admit that my mood improved immeasurably as the minutes raced away.

By the time we had sourced jumpers that would work together in the display, and then got them to fit the sheep without looking completely ridiculous, it was five fifteen. I hadn't checked my mobile for hours, but intuition told me Carson was trying to call and force me to come home.

Why? So he could go out and enjoy his freedom?

Sod him.

*Right,' I said, my b.u.t.t in the air as I pushed the last sheep into place, *what do we think?'

Lucinda frowned. *That you could stand to lose a few kilos?'

*Not about me, Lucinda, about the window display?'

*Oh, I don't know. What do sheep have to do with Santa?'

*It's ironic.'

Lucinda's dazzling eyes flickered, trying to compute the meaning of the word ironic.

Before she could offer a retort, Lolly appeared inside the curtained-off window. *Oh Scarlet, this is amazing.'

As we looked around, I had to admit it was pretty amazing.

We'd taken the tulle and sprayed it with opaque white from a nearby hardware store. Next, we'd arranged it in bunches in the window, pus.h.i.+ng butcher's paper behind the big tulle b.a.l.l.s to bulge them out and give the impression of snowy fields. Then, after the sheep were dressed in the colorful jumpers a magenta, bright green, red, blue, orange and yellow a we suspended them at different levels as if frolicking in the window. We'd discovered that the sheep weren't identical, which meant their legs all moved in different directions. The overall effect was slick, bright and humorous. The lads from Monty Python would be proud.

*You like it?' Lucinda asked, confusion evident on her beautiful face.

*Lucinda, can't you see that it's just what I was trying to achieve?' Lolly turned to me. *I know you wanted to design clothes, but this is much more your thing. I am paying you for this.'

*Lolly, no, I didn't do it for that. Plus you had to pay for the sheep and the cab.'

*But Scar, you saved me. We'll use the sheep again too. Maybe they can be our festive theme?'

*Halloween sheep? That could work?' Ideas were already racing about in my head.

*Absolutely. And I am definitely paying you to do that. Now, I'd better get my face on, that reporter will be here soon.'

So as Lolly went to freshen up, Lucinda and I pulled the curtains off the windows and turned on the twinkling lights that Lolly had leftover from last Christmas.

People outside stopped and began pointing. On seeing them, other pa.s.sersby did the same.

I only hoped that the magazine people thought the window was as wonderful as Lolly did.

It wouldn't do if I ruined Lolly's business, on top of everything else.

Lolly completed her own transformation, slipping into a red silk dress and shrugging on a woolly white jumper just as the reporter from NYC Shopping Weekly shoved against the gla.s.s and bra.s.s monogrammed door and stomped into LollyBliss, complaining about the weather.

Lucinda and I had run about tidying the store, but the window seemed to be enticing people in to browse, even though it was early evening and rain was pelting the sidewalks outside.

*Horrible weather,' Lolly said, hand outstretched.

*Never mind that,' said the haughty girl, who was almost a deadringer for Lucinda. She was dressed head to toe in camel colored Ralph Lauren and had straight light brown hair that came to her shoulders. *By the look of that window display, this is going to make a great feature.' She spun around. *Huffie? Huffie?'

The accompanying photographer, an elderly man seemingly entering his tenth decade, was struggling with his equipment and the door that the reporter had shut in his face. Lolly ran to help him.

*Huffie, there you are.' The reporter walked over and indicated the street. *Get back outside and photograph this marvelously kitch window. I think we've got our Christmas cover.'

I don't know who was more astonished: Lolly, me or posh Lucinda, who'd thought the sheep were barmy and me a mutant from somewhere designer brands didn't dare to venture.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Sat.u.r.day, November 25 If you let small problems fester, they soon expand to the point where going back is impossible.

Jocelyn Priestly.

MY HEAD FELT AS if a lorry had reversed over it in the night. Lolly had offered to take me out for a celebratory dinner, and after texting the kids with instructions of how they could heat up leftovers for dinner, I'd agreed.

She'd splashed out on Gramercy Park Tavern, and I had savored every mouthful, only feeling slightly guilty that Jessie and J were eating ca.s.serole from two days ago when the most spectacular chocolate dessert was served.

When I got home, Carson was asleep on the sofa, but at least the front door was back on its hinges.

I knew he was awake, because the rumbling snores he usually emitted were absent, but not a word was spoken.

Good.

Let him stew.

Looking at the calendar for that day, I silently told Jocelyn Priestly that letting small problems fester wasn't always a matter of choice.

No one would choose that kind of life, would they?

*Mum,' Jessie called, as I sidled past the mountainous basket of dirty was.h.i.+ng outside her bedroom.

*Hi darling, what is it?' Looking at her sweet face, minus the gla.s.ses and the hint of mascara that she'd taken to wearing in the belief that I didn't know she was doing it, Jessie reminded me of the toddler she once was.

*Where did you go?'

*Aunty Lolly's.'

*Was it fun?'

*Busy. I helped with a window display. I suppose you'd call it fun.'

*Mr Phillit from your work called. He didn't sound happy.'

My stomach fell. *He never sounds happy, baby. I wouldn't worry about it.'

*But if you lose your job, I won't be able to go on the excursion to Boston with school, will I? That's what Dad says.'

Now the contents of my stomach began churning. I'd forgotten all about that cla.s.s trip. And my job at Flindes. How could I have missed my s.h.i.+ft?

*Sweetie, trust me, you are going.'

Jessie considered this for a moment, wrapping one of her dark ringlets around her finger in contemplation.

*Dad didn't have dinner,' she said.

*What? Why not?'

Being angry with his wife was one thing, but taking it out on his kids was quite another.

*Because he wasn't home.'

My blood boiled. *So who was here while the door was being fixed?'

*Don't know. Not me or J. It was all done by the time we got home.'

Now I was fuming. Anyone could have been lying in wait inside the flat. *What time did he get home?'

*About fifteen minutes ago.'

*What!'

In the room next door, Carson stirred.

Eavesdropper!

I wanted to call out for him to get up and defend himself, but that would involve upsetting Jessie even more.

Small problems! Jocelyn Priestly didn't know the half of it. What the h.e.l.l had got into Carson?

Since when did he abandon his kids?

Then I remembered I'd turned my phone off, and booting it up again, I saw the ten or so messages from him, imploring me to go and watch the kids.

Please Scar a this work is really important. I know you're angry but I promise you things will get better. Soon.

It was a strange thing to say in a text, and totally uncharacteristic of Carson. He was a meat, three veg and no emotions kind of guy.

After kissing Jessie and J goodnight, I dropped down onto the bed that hadn't been made that morning, and pulled the sheets up around me.

Carson was up to something.

I only hoped it wasn't what I thought it was.

Couldn't be.

Could it?

Forcing myself to focus on the more pleasant aspects of the day, I wondered if the woman from NYC Shopper Weekly was really going to put LollyBliss's window on the cover.

Lolly said they'd give me a credit, for my portfolio.

If so, it would be the first piece of legitimate commercial work I had ever done.

- Cue yet another pathetic melancholy memory: Lolly McGuire was exactly like my best friend Lil, back in Bath, so it wasn't unusual that I gravitated towards her. The first day at the college in lower Manhattan, I was snuffling about, looking for a lecture theatre and feeling, despite my scholars.h.i.+p, like a complete dunce. Everyone at the school seemed so worldly; in fact they seemed to come from another world. Edgy a that's the world Lil would use. They were from Planet Edgy.

Every second person had a cigarette hanging casually from a hand; each boy seemed to have tight stovepipe trousers or cute summer dresses that revealed legs tanned naturally by the sun in the Hamptons, instead of under a sunbed in some dingy North London salon.

Thinking it might be better to pack it in then and there, I suddenly heard an infectious Tinkerbell-type laugh that seemed to resonate a just like Lil's.

Edging into a crowd that had formed around a trio of girls, I saw the three were doing some sort of dance. Well, two were dancing, the middle one a a crazily dressed blonde with the longest legs I'd ever seen a was sort of lurching about.