Read Christmas at Rosie Hopkins' Sweetshop for Free Online

What did you think?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Rosie. “I might have been tempted to tell them I hurt it in an intergalactic space raid to make them impressed with me.”
    Stephen lifted his cup of tea.
    â€œThat didn’t occur to me. Anyway, I told them so they won’t worry about it. And also, I wanted them to see the lengths some kids in this world have to go to to get an education. How lucky they are.”
    â€œNo kid ever thinks they’re lucky,” mused Rosie.
    â€œSome adults do,” said Stephen, looking at her for a second until she smiled, her worries forgotten. She’d tell him later, she thought.
    â€œOh, and I almost forgot!” said Stephen, his face lighting up. “Mother says we can have one of Bran’s pups when they come!”
    â€œI know,” said Rosie. “She told me.”
    Stephen looked at her face.
    â€˜This is amazing!” he said. “They’re worth a fortune, Bran’s pups. He’s a wonderful working dog.”
    â€œWhere are we going to put a gigantic dog?” said Rosie, glancing around the cozy little room, the logs crackling in the fireplace, the light dancing in the old brasses.
    Stephen shrugged. “Well, it’ll just go where we go, won’t it? And it’s not like we’ll be here forever.”
    Rosie looked up in surprise.
    â€œWhy, do you have a plan?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “But, you know, it’s not ideal, is it?”
    â€œIt’s lovely, and five seconds from our jobs,” said Rosie. “Seems pretty ideal to me.”
    â€œYes, but that’s because you grew up in a box.”
    â€œYou are SUCH a disgusting snob!” said Rosie.
    â€œI know,” said Stephen. “That’s why you love me and the dog so much.”

 
    Chapter 3
    R OSIE W AS GOOD friends with the village GP, Moray. On Friday she persuaded him to come with her to see Lilian. Stephen had already started planning the school concert.
    â€œHe’s so into it,” said Rosie in wonder. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
    â€œThat’s Stephen,” said Moray, who’d grown up with him. “Intense.”
    They both smiled. The snow had stayed on the ground, with more threatened, but for now, the Land Rover was managing over the undulating single-­lane roads through the hills. With the sun sparkling across the mountaintops, it was like being at the top of the Alps.
    â€œWell, it’s good,” said Rosie. “I like him happy.”
    â€œI would hope so,” said Moray, giving her a sideways look. “How are you? Not missing the smoke?”
    â€œHave you ever been to London at Christmas?”
    â€œYes,” said Moray promptly. “Full of ­people wearing suits getting off with other ­people wearing suits at four o’clock in the afternoon completely pissed. Awful.”
    â€œNo, it’s lovely!” said Rosie, surprised. “All the shops decorated, and the taxi lights and the Oxford Street displays . . . okay, it’s freezing, and the Oxford Street displays are all sponsored, and you can never get a taxi . . .”
    â€œAnd everybody’s pissed . . .”
    â€œAnd everybody’s pissed . . . No. Shut up, it’s brilliant.”
    â€œFeel free to hurtle about pissed in the day,” said Moray. “I’m sure no one will notice or comment. Or be remotely surprised, actually.”
    â€œI think you’re off my Christmas list.”
    â€œOh, boo-­hoo,” said Moray. “I shall have to wave goodbye to seventy-­nine pence worth of cost-­price, slightly damaged licorice allsorts.”
    â€œIt was going to be lemon sherbets actually.”
    â€œHow will I overcome the pain?”
    Lilian’s care home wasn’t decorated for Christmas yet, but it looked pretty nestled in its lovely gardens, tucked in cozily under a hill. It had, in its