Ah, right. So Phil can’t take you? Well, I can drive you and Jack to the Christmas tree place, Tara,’ my new neighbour Nick offered.
‘Oh, that’s a kind offer. I know it’s a bit early, but we like to go before the best trees are snapped up.’
He nodded. ‘That’s fine.’
I smiled. ‘After I’ve collected Jack from school, we can head out, if that’s OK?’
‘Of course it is! I’ll pop round later this afternoon, about 3.30pm.’
‘See you then!’ I waved, as Nick ambled away from the front doorstep.
I was so relieved that I didn’t have to disappoint my six-year-old son Jack. Visiting the plantation and choosing a tree (to be delivered to our home later) every year was one of our favourite family Christmas traditions.
But my hubby Phil couldn’t make it this year because he was working. He’d generously offered to cover shifts for his colleagues who were off sick with winter colds and flu. It meant extra duties,
