Jane Linfoot - Christmas Promises at the Little Wedding Shop - Celebrate Christmas in Cornwall with this magical romance!

Despite the open door, as I follow him into the hallway, the warmth hits me in the face, then envelops me. Gazing past Gracie to the wide white-painted room beyond, I spot a log burner in the corner, blazing behind a fireguard. In the time it takes to drop my camera bags onto the tiled floor by the entrance and shed my leopard, my cheeks have flushed from crimson to burning beetroot.

I scan the sofas and table for an empty space to put down my coat, and fail. ‘Good to see you aren’t a tidy obsessive.’ If were talking mess explosions, this is on a par with the bridesmaids’ room. Whereas I’m still used to Luc, who liked everything in its place. Although that insistence on order is something I never properly appreciated until I lost it.

Rory clears a space with his boat shoe, slides Teddie onto the rug and throws the Barbour he was wrapped in behind a tub chair. ‘The mess is the downside of having a three-year-old for a housemate.’ As he rubs his forehead with his fist, there’s a disgusting flash of tanned stomach. ‘You wouldn’t believe it but Immie had this place looking impeccable this morning.’

Actually I would. Him leaving the dirty work to someone else sounds exactly right. Which is why I need to get in and out of here like a lightning strike. ‘Okay, time for bed?’ If I wasn’t purple already, I would be after how that came out.

‘Sounds like a plan, Holly Berry Red Cheeks.’ There’s the lowest chuckle in his throat. ‘Bedrooms are straight through, past the kitchen.’

I’m not even going to bother about his jibes. It’s bad enough being in his living room. If I stop to think about being near his bedroom, I might vomit again. From sheer distaste.

As I clamp my eyes onto the sparkly snowflakes on Gracie’s top and march her across the rug, I can’t help noticing. She’s rocking the ‘Courtney Love walking out of a wind tunnel with a hangover’ look. Complete with dark shadows under her eyes and cheeks so white I’d swap with her in a heartbeat. I’m puzzling at how this fits with the super-uncle care package. ‘Have you brushed your hair today?’

There’s another low laugh from across the room, as Rory picks Teddie up and tosses his own hair out of his eyes. ‘You already know I’m allergic to hairbrushes. Fingers work every time for me.’

I can’t quite believe what I’m hearing. ‘It might come as a surprise, but there are other people here apart from you, Rory.’ I smile down at Gracie. ‘Maybe ask Uncle Rory if you can have your hair done tomorrow.’ I turn and look daggers at Rory. ‘ Before the tangles get too bad. A week like this and she’ll have dreadlocks.’

He shrugs. ‘It’s all about priorities. There’s no time to sweat the boring stuff here.’

I sniff. ‘I can see that.’ As I pick my way over the mayhem and pass the bathroom, on balance I decide not to mention teeth-cleaning.

Rory’s swagger at his mantra takes us all the way to the kid’s room, where he rolls Teddie down into a travelling cot, muttering as he drops in a soft toy. ‘Instructions page two, cat stays with baby at all times.’

Blocking out his self-congratulatory expression, I step over a tangle of t-shirts and towels as Gracie clambers into bed. Then I get out my phone and I try to sound businesslike. ‘Right, time for Let it go ? We’ll have the YouTube version – with lyrics.’ It’s not strictly necessary, seeing as Frozen is one of our go-to films when we have girly nights with Poppy and the crew. Singalong? You bet we do. But there’s no way I’m about to claim I’m word perfect without accompaniment. I’m so tempted to say ‘watch and learn’ but I bite my tongue. ‘Thanks Rory, I’ll take it from here.’ Hopefully he’ll take that as a dismissal. The last thing I need is an audience.

‘I can’t watch?’ His disappointed wail sounds a lot like Gracie’s.

‘Absolutely not.’ I wait for him to move, but he’s still standing smirking, shoulder against the wall. ‘It’s a deal breaker.’

I ignore his disgruntled sigh and wait until he’s shuffled well out of view. Then I perch on the blue-striped duvet and grin down at Gracie. ‘Ready?’ From somewhere in amongst the mess, she’s found both Immie’s snowmen and a teddy, and tucked them under the covers next to her.

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