A Cornish Gift: Previously published as an eBook collection, now in print for the first time with exclusive Christmas bonus material from Fern. Fern Britton

keep forgetting!’

      ‘Oh, Mum, stop teasing! You know full well I’m in Madagascar. We’ve been exploring some of the most remote parts of Masoala National Park – you wouldn’t believe how amazing it is. Tomorrow, we’ll be staying somewhere there’s an Internet connection, so I’ll send photos.’

      ‘Make sure there are some pictures of you too and not just the monkeys! I want to see you’re all right. You’re still my little girl and it’s so far away, I can’t help worrying. I hope you’ve got nice people out there taking care of you.’

      ‘Everyone is lovely, Mum, and like me, all they want to do is help protect the environment here. We’re trying to support the locals’ efforts to stop logging companies from destroying any more of the rainforest.’

      ‘Oh, darling, I know it is what you want to do and I’m so proud, but I do wish you were here with us. Summer is growing so fast.’

      ‘I know, I Skyped Sean and Terri the other night. They reckon she looks a bit like me.’

      ‘She does a bit, but she’s got Terri’s eyes.’

      ‘How is everything else? How are you and Piran getting on?’

      ‘Oh, you know what Piran’s like.’

      ‘Impossible?’

      ‘That’s the word!’

      They both laughed. It felt so good to hear Chloe’s voice.

      ‘When are you coming home, darling? Whenever I see Mack on the beach messing about with his surfboard, he always asks after you.’

      ‘Soon, Mum. Tell him soon.’

      ‘I will, sweetheart,’ said Helen. She could hear someone in the background yelling to Chloe to end the call, the bus would be leaving any moment. ‘Bye, Chloe – love you. And don’t forget to call your father!’

      ‘I won’t! Love you too, Mum. I’ll Skype tomorrow,’ Chloe promised and rang off.

      Oh, damn, thought Helen as she started the car. I forgot breadsticks!

      *

      It seemed the whole of Trevay were busily stocking up on last-minute items, as if the shops would be closed for weeks instead of a few days. Helen darted in and out, picking up a few more crackers, some chocolate decorations that Summer could dress the tree with, more Sellotape, more wrapping paper and a big slab of smoked bacon rashers, which would do for breakfast on Christmas morning and for dressing the turkey with. As she went about her errands she scanned the crowds for a familiar face, but there was still no sign of Piran.

      Heading back into Pendruggan, she passed by The Dolphin. Don, the pub’s owner, was busily rolling a barrel from the back of his pickup truck towards the pub. When Helen tooted, he abandoned his barrel and waved for her to stop.

      ‘What have you got there, Don?’

      ‘Ah, this, this here is me special Pendruggan Christmas Ale. Comes from a secret brewery that only I knows about and I can only get me hands on one barrel a year. Folks come from far and wide to try this. We crack it open on Christmas morning and it’s all gone by lunchtime.’

      ‘Secret?’ Don’s wife, Dorrie, suddenly appeared in the pub doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘Nothing secret about it at all. He brews it in his shed and drinks most of it himself on the day!’ They laughed good-naturedly at this and Helen laughed along with them.

      ‘Well, I might be along to try it myself.’

      ‘Make sure you bring that Piran Ambrose with you ’n’ all. He’s quite partial to a bit of this.’

      ‘I’ll try, Don – if I ever find him.’

      ‘Find him? Well, he be down on his boat – I were out over Trevay Harbour way and I saw him. Set to be there all day from the look of ’im.’

      ‘Oh. I see …’ Piran used his boat the way a lot of men used their potting sheds. It served a purpose that went beyond fishing trips – he used it as a place to think. Or a place to be alone. Why had he gone out there today of all days, knowing that she was counting on his help?

      ‘Thanks, Don. Save some of that ale for me!’

      ‘Ah, no special treatment, I’m afraid, you’ll just have to be early doors tomorrow!’ he called after her as she gave another toot of the horn and drove off.

      *

      When she got home, Helen insisted that Sean and Terri leave Summer to her while they had some time to themselves. They needed little encouragement; within minutes they’d grabbed their coats and set off for a bracing walk along the cliffs.

      ‘And stop by The Dolphin for a pub lunch,’ she urged as she and Summer waved goodbye from the cottage door. ‘There’s no rush to get back. Summer and I can have an afternoon together, can’t we, darling girl?’

      ‘Gan Gan!’ Summer gave her another sloppy kiss.

      Helen was pleased when Summer went straight down in her travel cot. Her parenting skills – or grandparenting? – were coming back and as she gazed down at her granddaughter’s angelic features, she kept her fingers crossed that Summer’s teething pains wouldn’t disturb her slumber.

      Putting her feet up for five minutes, she called Penny and told her about Piran’s disappearing act.

      ‘Do you think he’ll remember our plans for tonight?’ Penny asked.

      That evening, the village green was to be given over to a carol concert and the entire village would be there. A huge Christmas tree decked with hundreds of multicoloured lights had been erected on the green. When darkness fell and everyone gathered round it, the atmosphere would be magical; it was something everyone looked forward to each year. Afterwards, they were all going to head over to Trevay for a curry. It wouldn’t be that late, so Sean, Terri and Summer were going to come along too. Piran adored Summer, but he hadn’t been in to see her since she arrived. Stop it, Helen told herself, knowing that if she thought about it too much she’d get cross.

      ‘He’ll remember,’ she assured Penny, ‘if he knows what’s good for him. I’ve been looking forward to it for ages, so he’d better not let me down tonight as well.’

      *

      The rest of the day passed without a peep from Piran. Helen had tried his phone once or twice, each time with the same result. She kept herself busy, and tried to stay jolly with Christmas music playing in the kitchen as she ticked off as many of the necessary preparations as she could. She’d got out the ice-cream maker and had enjoyed making a rich vanilla ice cream. Tomorrow, she was planning to take some of the Christmas pudding and churn it in with the ice cream with a drop or two of rum. She’d then freeze it again into a block and then later on, when their dinner had gone down a bit and they were watching telly, she would cut it into thick slabs, stick the slabs between two wafers and serve them up as a lovely decadent Christmassy take on a childhood favourite.

      Despite her best efforts, there was no denying that Piran’s absence had taken some of the enjoyment out of it. Helen couldn’t stop herself running to the window every time she heard a vehicle, hoping to see his battered truck pulling up outside.

      It was now early evening and almost time to set off for the carol singing. Terri and Sean had enjoyed their walk and then gone for a little nap upstairs while she and Summer watched Finding Nemo on TV. When her parents started to stir, Summer had insisted on joining them upstairs on their bed. Now Helen could hear them all getting ready, singing songs and enjoying being together. It made her smile to hear them.

      This time when she ran to the window at the sound of a pickup on the lane, her heart leapt as she saw Piran climb out, leaving Jack, his faithful Jack Russell terrier, gazing out of the window.

      Helen was at the door before he had even got halfway up the path. He looked tired and troubled, but at the same time she could see that streak of