Page 74 of The Best of Times

“I’ll see you later,” Aron said, putting his jacket on. “And don’t be late. I won’t defend you.”

With one final glance at Paul, he left them to it. Out on the street it was pouring with rain. The marquee still held firm.

He dashed up the paving stones. He couldn’t wait to give Granny her gift. Every year they tried to outdo each other with techy presents. This year, he’d nailed it.Thank you, New York City.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the change in sleeping arrangements.”

Aron snapped to attention. Alexander hung out of his first-floor drawing room window.

“Nothing to do with me and please don’t ask me to elaborate on this day of all days.”

Alexander frowned then realisation dawned on his face. “Oh. Gosh. Good for them. I wonder if you are making the most of this inconvenience also?”

Aron grinned. “Merry Christmas, Alexander.”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, Aron.”

He disappeared into his house and shut the window. Aron was drenched at this point. So much for his Christmas jumper.

Rubbing the water out of his eyes, he ran the rest of the way. Granny’s house was toasty warm.

“Merry Christmas, Granny,” he shouted as he shrugged out of his sopping coat. “Where are you?”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, darling. I’m upstairs.”

He kicked his shoes off and went up.

The drawing room was already awash with wrapping paper. It appeared the Professor had spoiled his bride. Granny sat in the centre in her dressing gown.

“I’m not even dressed and I make no apology,” she declared.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll join you. I’m soaked.”

She leapt up. “Go. Now. You’ll catch your death. I’ll make coffee. Shall we have a little something to go with it?”

“Granny. It’s not even ten o’clock.”

“It’s Christmas Day. The rulebook doesn’t count.”

“Then who am I to argue?”

“Good because I’ve a bottle of Dom chilling in the fridge.”

Only his grandmother would pair coffee and champagne.

“Shoo,” she said. “You’re dripping on my carpet.”

He kissed her on the cheek before obeying her. He needed to get out of his soaked jeans quickly. The jumper hadn’t sustained much rain, so he put it on the radiator.

“Power Rangers may ride again.”

Once inside his cosy brushed cotton pyjamas and fluffy robe, he grabbed Granny’s gift and returned to the drawing room.

She was back on the sofa. A tray laden with crudities, caviar, smoked salmon and crackers lay before her.

“Wow.”

“I simply unpacked it. We’re too late for breakfast but too early for brunch. So I thought we’d eat for the sheer fun of it.”