The Perfect CHRISTMAS

She’d been prepping to ensure everything would go smoothly. What could possibly go wrong?

I knew something was wrong the minute Will opened the door. Instead of being hit by the smell of turkey cooking, I could only smell lime and lemongrass from my 6 am mopping spree.

Carrying a sleeping Amelia, I dashed into the kitchen.

‘Will, the oven! It’s not on!’

I was sure I’d switched it on, but despite turning the dial to 180°C, I’d clearly forgotten to press ‘set’.

Amelia promptly woke up and let out an ear-splitting yell. Despite being only nine months old, she knew how to choose her moments.

‘Shhh, darling, Mummy didn’t mean to shout. It’s just that Granny, Gramps, your auntie, uncle and all your cousins will be

Sensing my panic, her howling intensified.

I looked at the raw turkey through the oven glass.

A sob, almost as loud as Amelia’s, overwhelmed me. I plonked myself down in the chair in the corner of the kitchen and fed Amelia.

‘It’ll be fine,’ Will said. He clicked on the oven and the fan whirled into action.

I glared at him. How could he say that? I’d ruined Christmas! ‘You could’ve checked the oven was on.’

‘Sorry, Becky, I thought you had it under control.’

‘I had… I did… We should never have gone for a walk.’

‘But…’

I cut Will off. I could easily complete his sentence: ‘But, it had been a lovely walk.’ And Will was right. It had been. There was a light frost on the ground, but the sun had warmed our faces through the trees. The sky was a glorious blue and Will and I had chatted and laughed and held hands like we’d done before Amelia was born. Amelia had slept the entire walk, oblivious to the robins and squirrels we passed.