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The Mince Pie Mix-Up
Jennifer Joyce


Curl up with a mug of hot chocolate and a warm mince pie for the perfect festive read this holiday season!‘I wish I could live your life. I’d happily swap lives with you.’’Tis the season to be jolly but for Calvin and Judy the usual festive bickering has already begun! Judy’s convinced that her husband has it easy – no glittery wrapping paper, no playground gossip and absolutely no Christmas baking.Calvin wishes he could trade in his obnoxious boss and dull nine-to-five job to spend more time kicking back with his kids – how hard can Judy’s life really be?But after a magical mince pie mix-up, one thing’s for certain – by Christmas Day, life for Judy and Calvin will never be the same again. Perhaps the grass isn’t always greener after all…A hilarious, feel-good festive read, perfect to curl up with this Christmas. Fans of Carole Matthews, Jane Costello and Mandy Baggot will love this story! As will fans of Freaky Friday or 13 Going on 30!What readers are saying about The Mince Pie Mix-Up:‘An adorable, fun-filled and festive read for everyone who likes to take a break from the relentless Christmas rush!’ ― The Nest of Books Review‘I couldn't stop laughing and smiling my way through The Mince Pie Mix-Up…incredibly fun story, perfect for this time of year!’ ― Gilbster (Top 1,000 Amazon Reviewer)‘Grab a couple of mince pies and a mulled wine and get into the Christmas spirit. Curl up with The Mince Pie Mix-Up this Christmas.’ ― Shellybackbooks Review







‘I wish I could live your life. I’d happily swap lives with you.’

It might be the season to be jolly but for Calvin and Judy the usual festive bickering has already begun! Judy’s convinced that her husband has it easy – no glittery wrapping paper, no playground gossip and absolutely no Christmas baking.

Calvin wishes he could trade in his obnoxious boss and dull nine-to-five job to spend more time kicking back with his kids – how hard can Judy’s life really be?

But after a magical mince pie mix-up, one thing’s for certain – by Christmas Day, life for Judy and Calvin will never be the same again. Perhaps the grass isn’t always greener after all…

A hilarious, feel-good festive read, perfect to curl up with this Christmas. Fans of Carole Matthews, Jane Costello and Mandy Baggot will love this story!


The Mince Pie Mix-Up

Jennifer Joyce







Copyright (#ulink_a560cab8-375e-5b50-929a-a85a623a1713)

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015

Copyright © Jennifer Joyce 2015

Jennifer Joyce asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474045896

Version date: 2018-07-23


JENNIFER JOYCE

is a writer of romantic comedies. She's been scribbling down bits of stories for as long as she can remember, graduating from a pen to a typewriter and then an electronic typewriter. And she felt like the bee's knees typing on THAT. She now writes her books on a laptop (which has a proper delete button and everything). Jennifer lives in Oldham, Greater Manchester with her husband Chris and their two daughters, Rianne and Isobel, plus their bunnies Cinnamon and Leah and Jack Russell Luna. When she isn’t writing, Jennifer likes to make things – she’ll use any excuse to get her craft box out! She spends far too much time on Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram. You can find out more about Jennifer on her blog at jenniferjoycewrites.co.uk, on Twitter at @writer_jenn and on Facebook at facebook.com/jenniferjoycewrites


A great big thank you to my family for their support and encouragement. I’ll always be grateful that none of you have laughed in my face at my attempts to write. At least not to my face, which is good enough for me. Extra special thanks to Chris, Rianne and Isobel for not minding when I hole myself away at my desk – though I suspect you quite enjoy the peace.

Thank you to all the wonderful book fiends on Twitter, who make procrastinating all the more alluring. Also, massive thanks to Team Novelicious, who make being a book nerd so much fun.

Finally, thank you to Clio Cornish and all at HQ Digital UK, especially my editor Charlotte Mursell, who pushed me to make The Mince Pie Mix-Up the better book it is today.


For Chris, Rianne and Isobel, with love at Christmas and always


Contents

Cover (#u939b0fd8-8784-593a-aa28-8c66eff707d4)

Blurb (#u175ff7bf-643b-5789-8ea0-7ca5e5c2ea5d)

Title Page (#uca9916d9-e812-528d-8450-7d7499ef274c)

Copyright (#u5d8057af-374e-5d9a-bd75-b65c33045261)

Author Bio (#u0dbdf341-ccb5-5489-8b41-a230a98fae87)

Acknowledgements (#u7568f875-9585-509b-a9b4-8fb1d0443ed0)

Dedication (#ue7480a8e-4a1d-52b0-8496-b99c066e6d67)

Chapter One (#u39ed7ac5-ea4a-50e4-b96d-910afa511703)

Chapter Two (#u2e887dde-4302-54b0-8841-03eb4e109410)

Chapter Three (#uac6c4952-0b01-5043-824b-7f70c5333f88)

Chapter Four (#u26f2d4ce-d640-5575-85fb-df4d76e4be90)

Chapter Five (#u26108b00-c65d-5c3a-ba65-7aae43af5cc6)

Chapter Six (#u2cdb99cd-5b6e-5ed8-937c-29fa0a13d3fc)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One: Mince Pies at Dawn (#ulink_41e90caa-25e3-56fe-bf14-cda754b338a8)

A dozen pastry stars. Two lunch boxes. No, one lunch box – where was the other? Dog lead. Second batch of mince pies out of the oven. Quick, get the pastry stars on top of the third batch. Where is that lunch box? And why are there only ten pastry stars? Pastry cutter, pastry cutter, aha! Two more pastry stars, now plonked on top of mince pie cases. Mince pies in the oven. Woof. One minute, Miller. Where is that bloody lunch box?

‘Scott? Charlie? Are you out of bed yet?’

Lunch box, lunch box. Where could it be? Woof.

‘I’m so sorry, Miller. I promise I’ll take you out in two ticks. Scott! Charlie!’

Judy leapt around the kitchen, popping hot mince pies onto cooling racks while searching for the missing lunch box. It had been there only moments ago, sitting on the counter with the other one, she was sure. She’d only packed them a few minutes ago, just before she rolled out the pastry for the stars.

‘Aha!’ Lunch box. Half-buried beneath a blanket of flour. Judy blew the flour away and shoved the lunch box on top of its brother. ‘Scott! Charlie!’

‘All right, all right. We can hear you, you know.’ Scott, Judy’s thirteen-year-old son, wandered into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in comical black tufts, his eyes prised half-open in an attempt at being awake. ‘What’s for breakfast?’

‘Whatever you make yourself. I need to take Miller out for a walk.’ The dog’s ears pricked up, eyeing his dog lead hopefully. It was sitting on the table, where it had been abandoned in favour of mince pies. Miller didn’t dare hope that he’d finally get to leave the house and empty his bladder.

‘Can you get something for Charlie?’ Judy grabbed the lead and Miller jumped out of his basket where he’d been sulking all morning, his claws clattering on the lino as he circled his owner’s legs. ‘And tell your dad to keep an eye on the mince pies. They need to come out in ten to fifteen minutes if I’m not back. Scott, did you hear me?’

‘What?’ Scott turned from the cupboard where he had been observing the cereal boxes. Frosties or Coco Pops?

‘The mince pies.’ Judy struggled to clip the lead onto Miller’s collar as he danced around her ankles. ‘They need to come out of the oven in ten to fifteen minutes. When they’re golden. Tell your dad.’

‘Mmm.’ Scott turned back to the cupboard and grabbed the Frosties.

‘Don’t forget Charlie.’ Judy had finally managed to tether the dog but paused on the kitchen’s threshold. ‘Cereal or toast for Charlie. Do not feed her mince pies for breakfast. Again.’ Miller tugged Judy towards the front door. He would not be teased like this. He either peed outside against a tree or he made a puddle on the floor, which was humiliating for Miller and infuriating for his owner.

‘Have you seen my tie?’ Judy’s husband was halfway down the stairs, his shirt open at the neck. ‘The grey one with the white stripes?’

‘I think it’s in the bathroom, on top of the drawers.’ It certainly wasn’t hung on the rack in the wardrobe where it should be, Judy thought as she grabbed her coat and shoved her arms through the sleeves. ‘Is Charlie out of bed yet? Can you make sure she gets up and has breakfast? No mince pies this time. Speaking of which, can you take them out of the oven in ten to fifteen minutes if I’m not back? Once they’re golden?’

‘Yeah, sure.’ Calvin had already turned his back on Judy and was hopping back up the stairs to retrieve his tie. Judy finally opened the front door and Miller tugged her out into the cold December morning. The sky was still a deep navy, the village vaguely lit by street lights and the odd amber glow from the windows of early risers. The windscreens of the cars sparkled under a layer of frost and the grass was stiff and crunchy underfoot. Judy allowed Miller to set the pace – which was rather rapid due to his full bladder and the sight of his favourite tree. Once Miller had relieved himself, his pace dropped to a gentle trot as they made their way along the canal, following their usual route along the towpath until they reached the school’s playing fields and turned onto the public footpath. The path was little more than a dirt track that filled Judy’s shoes with mud. She should have changed into her wellies, really, but she’d been in a bit of a rush. They walked along to the high street, which was still asleep, and followed it down until they came full circle onto their road. She waved to their neighbour, who was busy scraping frost from his car, his teeth chattering at an alarming rate. The sky had lightened by now but it was still bitterly cold so Judy was glad of the warmth as she stepped into the house and removed her coat.

‘I’m back!’ Judy unclipped Miller’s lead and hooked it onto the coat stand. She hoped Scott and Charlie had eaten and were at least part-way dressed by now. The kitchen was silent, which was a good sign. She didn’t even mind seeing the dishes piled up on the side as it was at least evidence that her children had been fed.

‘My tie wasn’t in the bathroom.’ Calvin’s tone was almost accusatory as he joined Judy in the kitchen. He was wearing a lime green tie as he clearly hadn’t managed to locate the grey one.

‘Then I have no idea where –’ Judy paused mid-sentence, her nostrils flaring as she picked up the faint whiff of smoke. Her eyes scanned the kitchen. The mince pies! Flying towards the oven, Judy wrenched open the door, stepping back as a mixture of smoke and steam billowed out, clearing to reveal her mince pies – decidedly the wrong side of golden brown! The smoke alarm kicked into action, screeching despite Judy’s oven-glove-wafting in the air.

‘I asked you to check on them. Why didn’t you take them out of the oven?’ She shoved her hand into the oven glove so roughly, her fingers almost poked out of the other side. The mince pies were yanked out of their incinerator and the tray dumped on the worktop. There really was no way of salvaging them. She’d hesitate to serve them to her own family, never mind the paying public.

‘I thought they were already out of the oven.’ Calvin pointed at the batches cooling on the side. ‘How was I to know there were more in the oven?’

Judy closed her eyes. How to answer that ridiculous question without causing offence? ‘Because I asked you to take them out of the oven?’ That should have been her husband’s first clue. ‘Or how about the smell of burning?’

‘I couldn’t smell it, could I?’ Calvin wasn’t completely stupid. Had he actually been in the presence of the burning pies, Calvin was certain he’d have twigged that there was another batch awaiting his assistance. As it happened, he was detained elsewhere. ‘I was upstairs looking for my tie.’

Judy stared at her husband. He stared back. Neither was willing to back down, both believing wholeheartedly that they were in the right. In the end, Judy decided against saying what was on her mind – which would have caused offence – and instead turned her attention back to the mince pies.

‘Can you sort that out?’ She jabbed a finger at the still screeching smoke detector as she surveyed the singed pies before her. Did she have time to make a fresh batch? Not a chance. Instead, she pushed the tray to the back of the work surface – they were too hot to bin straightaway – cleared away the debris of the morning’s baking and hurried the children along. Calvin left for work somewhere along the way but Judy didn’t bother to say goodbye. She was too annoyed and too frantic getting everybody ready to leave the house on time.

‘Have you got everything?’ With the two batches of mince pies packed away in boxes and stacked in her arms, Judy herded the children out of the door while going through her usual checklist. ‘Homework? Lunch? PE kit? Do you have that consent form I signed for the school? Have you got your reading book?’

With an affirmative for all of the above, Judy and the children set off through the village, Scott towards the bus stop while Judy and Charlie made their way towards the village green. Judy heard the rumble of the bus in the distance and hoped her son had managed to catch it in time. The last thing she needed was another ticking off from Scott’s head teacher. She and Mr Peebles had already had words over her son’s apparent lack of ‘educational motivation’. What Steve Peebles didn’t seem to grasp was that Scott was motivated by little other than sports and his band. She’d been tempted to invite Peebles over to take a peek at her son’s bedroom and see just how motivated he was to put his laundry in the basket or open his curtains once in a while. Instead, she’d taken the criticism on the chin and set about motivating her son via threats of taking away his football and band privileges.

Charlie skipped alongside her mother as they made their way through the village. The sky had lightened considerably by now but there was still a bleakness in the air. Still, the sight of Christmas trees in the windows and wreaths adorning the doors helped to inject a bit of cheer into the village. If Judy didn’t have a festive to-do list as long as the fairy lights wrapped around her tree at home, she’d be able to relax and enjoy the season.

The Green Teapot sat on the edge of the village green and was already open for business, catering to those in need of a good cup of tea to kick-start the bitter morning. Christmas music was playing softly in the background as Judy and Charlie stepped inside, with Bing Crosby crooning about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. It was warm in the tea room and the air was filled with the smell of cinnamon and freshly baked bread.

Judy placed the batches of edible mince pies on the counter, apologising profusely about their meagre numbers. ‘It’s been a bit of a nightmare morning.’ Judy didn’t mention her husband’s incompetence. ‘But I promise I’ll make some more during my shift.’

Judy worked as a waitress at the tea room, as well as baking at home to earn a bit of extra cash. She’d have to squeeze some baking in between her usual duties. Somehow.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Enid, owner of the Green Teapot and Judy’s boss, gave a wave of her hand. ‘We’ll sort something out.’

Judy knew she was incredibly lucky to have such an understanding boss. Leaving the surviving mince pies in Enid’s capable hands, Judy and Charlie returned to the cold and hurried through the village to the primary school. A rainbow of colours greeted them as children tucked up in hats, coats and gloves whizzed by with insatiable energy and Charlie eagerly joined them, seeking out her friends easily despite them being covered almost head to toe in winter gear.

‘I wish I had this much energy first thing in the morning.’ Laura, Judy’s friend and fellow parent joined her, blowing on her cold fingers to warm them up. She and Judy had met ten years ago, when their boys both started at the village nursery, and now Charlie and Laura’s youngest son were in the same class.

‘I want to curl up and go back to sleep.’ Judy had been up since dawn to fit in her baking before the school run, creeping around the kitchen so as not to wake her family.

‘If only.’ Laura sighed. Like Judy, as soon as the children were safely inside, she’d be off to work. ‘Don’t you wish you were her sometimes?’ Laura pointed across the playground to where Abby Frost was holding court, her designer handbag hooked over the crook of her elbow. Abby Frost was what some people might have described as a ‘yummy mummy’ but what Judy described as a stuck-up cow. Married to a wealthy ex-banker-turned-MP, Abby took every opportunity to flaunt her affluence and status within the community. She didn’t have to work for a living and looked down at the mums who did, publically pitying their offspring for their lack of parental presence.

‘I’d rather clean urinals with my own toothbrush than be her,’ Judy replied. Money was one thing – and quite a nice thing, Judy thought – but being a judgemental snob was another, and not something Judy would wish on anyone. Especially herself.

‘Mrs Neil!’ Judy looked up as she heard her name being called and saw Charlie’s teacher heading towards her, waving to catch her attention. ‘I’m so glad I caught you. I just wanted to check that you’re still okay making the extra costumes for the nativity? We’ll need them for the dress rehearsal next Wednesday.’ Miss Daniels scrunched up her nose. It was a lot of work but Charlie’s mother had volunteered and the school’s nativity budget was tight. Practically non-existent, in fact. They could only just about stretch to new material for the costumes.

‘That’s fine.’ Judy didn’t need to sleep, right? ‘I’ll have them ready.’

‘Great.’ Miss Daniels seemed to deflate with relief. ‘Thank you so much.’ She grinned at Judy before she rushed off to herd the children off to their classroom.

‘How did you end up with that job?’ Laura always did her best to avoid being lumbered with school duties. She had too much on her plate as a single mum of three without piling more on top.

Judy rolled her eyes. ‘I stupidly stepped forward. You know I like sewing and everything but I forgot how hectic it is around Christmas. I’ve only got myself to blame.’

‘Give me a shout if you need a hand.’

Judy thought it was very sweet of Laura to offer, considering she couldn’t so much as thread a needle. ‘I will, thanks. I’ll see you later.’ Charlie’s class had been led into the school by Miss Daniels so Judy made her way back to the Green Teapot, where she threw on an apron and helped clear the early morning rush. It was mid-morning before she managed to cobble together another batch of mince pies before the lunchtime crowd descended upon them. She was rushed off her feet for the rest of the afternoon so it was a relief to finally hang up her apron at half past two. She had just enough time to take Miller to his favourite tree and load the washing machine before dashing to the school to pick up Charlie. She made sure the children were washed and changed while transferring the washing to the dryer and piling in another load. She checked her watch as it began to grow dark outside. Calvin had promised he’d be home early tonight. Where was he?


Chapter Two: Frostie the Snowman Forgot (#ulink_4169768b-fe05-5cb4-8fc9-8e38bdf46812)

Perry was fuming. Calvin had never seen a face quite so puce as his boss stalked up and down the office, firing off expletive after expletive, practically foaming at the mouth as his rage spilled forth. His head was going to explode, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing apart from the mess it would create on the walls of B&R Marketing. Maybe Calvin would get splattered and then he’d have to listen to Judy go on at him about the stains on his shirt. At least he wasn’t wearing his favourite grey tie, Calvin supposed. He didn’t mind if the horrible lime green one was ruined with his boss’s brain matter.

‘Are you all frankincense stupid or something?’

Perry hadn’t really used the word frankincense, but Calvin was passing the time by replacing the swear words with those associated with Christmas. It made the experience a tad more pleasant – as long as you ignored the spittle flying across the office as Perry went about his business of giving his employees an almighty ticking off.

‘What kind of idiots do I have working for me? You’re all a bunch of figgy pudding chestnuts. I should fire the whole baubles lot of you, you incompetent donkeys.’ ‘Donkeys’ could have been an actual insult for Perry to use, but the one Calvin had replaced was marginally more insulting. ‘Whose job was it to book the photo shoot?’ Perry’s eyes shone as they ran across each employee, seeking out the weakest member of his team. The one who had well and truly dropped the ball on this project. ‘Which advent am I going to sack?’

‘Sack?’ Everyone in the office had been silent up until this point (they’d long ago figured this was the best way to deal with Perry’s rages) but now a voice squeaked from the back of the office. ‘But it’s December.’

It was Sarah who had spoken out. She was relatively new to the B&R Marketing office and wasn’t familiar with all the rules yet. You didn’t take stationery from the cupboard without permission from Perry first (which was sometimes only granted after a full-on grovelling session. Pens were precious in the B&R office, according to their tight-fisted boss). You didn’t take the last biscuit out of the tin in the kitchen unless you wanted an ear-chewing from Overlord Perry and you never, ever spoke out during one of his tirades. To do so would only put you in the firing line and prolong the agony for everybody else.

Poor Sarah.

‘I don’t give a flying fa la la la la what month of the year it is.’ Perry gave a hoot. ‘Are you referring to Christmas? Do you actually think I give a rat’s antlers about Christmas?’ Perry marched towards the back of the office, where Sarah was quivering in her chair. ‘Christmas means more business. Profits!’ Spit flew through the air, landing on Sarah’s cheek. She didn’t dare move to wipe it away. ‘It doesn’t mean I’ll turn into a soft Tiny Tim just because you lot stick up a bit of tinsel.’ ‘Tinsel’ was Perry’s own word this time. He flailed his arms around to indicate the sparkly stuff attempting to add cheer to the grim office. ‘Don’t think I won’t sack the lot of you at Christmas because I will if I have to. You French-henned this project up and I want to know why and, more importantly, who.’

He glared at his employees, turning full circle so that nobody was left out. His nostrils were flared as he attempted to sniff out the weak link.

‘Well?’ The fact that he had failed to sniff out the culprit was making a vein throb in his temple. It grew larger as he turned to examine his staff yet again and the offender remained hidden. ‘May I remind you how much work we’ve got on over the next few weeks? Francesco Benvenuti is coming into this office next week. Francesco. Benvenuti. Do you realise how much money that dude will bring to this company? I cannot allow any of you to fairy lights this campaign up!’

Perry stormed out of the office, his fury continuing for the remainder of the day, though thankfully he took it into the solitude of his own office once it became clear that nobody was actually going to be man enough to own up to messing up the campaign. Although he’d threatened to sack the lot of them, it wasn’t really plausible, so he’d stormed into his office to seethe and plot for the rest of the day.

‘Perry should expect the arrival of three ghosts this Christmas,’ Sarah said as they packed up at the end of the day. Perry had moments earlier popped his head through the door to tell them they should all ‘frost off home’ and ‘thank themselves festive lucky that they still had their Father Christmas jobs’. Calvin was running out of Christmas-themed F words.

‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ Sarah paused by Calvin’s desk and lowered her voice. ‘And thanks for not landing me in it. I thought I’d booked that photo shoot weeks ago.’

‘Don’t worry about it. It was a mistake.’ Calvin thought of the blackened mince pies from that morning. ‘We all make them.’

With his computer shut down for the evening, Calvin made his way down to the car park and climbed into his car. He had an hour’s commute from B&R Marketing’s city centre office to his home in Hartfield Hill. He knew how much Judy loved the village but it was a pain in the artificial Christmas tree (Calvin must stop doing that now) getting to and from work during rush hour. It was half past six by the time he pulled up outside the house, the evening already well and truly underway. Judy and the children would have already eaten, meaning he’d have to sit in the kitchen by himself yet again. Calvin opened the oven but it was empty. Probably punishment for the mince pies, which were still sitting accusingly on the side – he was evidently not out of the doghouse then. Never mind. He wasn’t that hungry anyway. He’d grab something later.

‘Where have you been?’ Judy was sitting on the bed when Calvin went upstairs to change, her face twisted and strangely resembling that of Perry’s earlier. Great. Just what Calvin needed. He’d already had a bollocking from his boss – he didn’t need another from his wife.

‘I’ve been at work. Where do you think?’ Calvin opened the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of jeans and a hooded top.

‘You’re late.’

‘I know.’ It was all right for Judy. She only worked a few streets away. If she ran, she could be home from work in two minutes. Not everybody had it so easy. ‘Traffic was terrible. It always is at this time of year.’

‘And you really couldn’t have got here any earlier?’

Calvin held in a sigh. No, he really couldn’t have unless he had the ability to sprout wings and fly home. Which he didn’t. ‘Is this about the mince pies? I said sorry.’

‘You didn’t, actually,’ Judy muttered. Calvin chose not to hear and instead changed out of his work clothes (which Judy snatched off the floor where they fell before dumping them forcefully into the laundry basket) and into more comfortable attire. Sometimes it felt like he was wearing a noose to work instead of a tie.

‘I’m sorry, okay? About the mince pies and being late and everything.’ Over the years, Calvin had come to the realisation that it was easier to apologise, even for the things out of his control. ‘I’ll see you later. I won’t be late.’ He stooped to kiss Judy goodbye but she put out a hand to stop him.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘To the pub.’ It was Friday. He always went to the pub with the lads on a Friday to unwind after a stressful week at the office. It was the only thing that got him through the week at times.

‘But we’re going to my parents’.’ Judy folded her arms across her chest, her eyebrows raising a fraction in challenge. ‘It’s been planned for weeks. It’s the last chance we’ll get to see them before Christmas. They’re spending Christmas and New Year with my sister.’

‘Your sister only lives down the road from your mum and dad.’

Judy’s eyebrows rose further, no longer a challenge but a threat. ‘She moved to Edinburgh. Eight months ago.’

Yes, Calvin remembered now. They’d helped pack up the house and Judy had cried for a week.

‘I forgot.’

‘You forget a lot of things.’ Judy let that statement hang in the air for a moment before she continued. ‘Anyway, we planned to go to Mum and Dad’s tonight. It’s been on the calendar for weeks and they’re expecting us.’ They’d been expecting them over an hour ago but Judy forced her lips to close tight. For a millisecond. ‘You promised to be home early so we could go.’

‘But it’s Friday night. It’s the only night out I get.’

Judy threw back her head and barked with laughter. ‘Are you taking the piper’s piping?’ Calvin really couldn’t help replacing the obscenities. It had become a habit. ‘You go out on Monday and Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings!’

‘But that’s to play pool and football.’ He couldn’t let his teams down, could he? ‘Friday night is the only chance I get to relax.’

Judy looked at him. She looked at him some more. Too angry to speak, she stalked out of the room.

‘Does this mean I still have to go tonight?’ Calvin called after her.

‘YES!’


Chapter Three: Two Parents A-Rowing and a Partridge in a Pear Tree (#ulink_e9e15bd3-2f8a-5324-9609-eae3171d2803)

Judy and Calvin thought it was best if they didn’t communicate for a while, so the journey to Judy’s parents’ was strained as they each did their best to ignore the other. Calvin turned away from his wife as best he could while confined to the passenger seat of the car and tethered to his seat by his belt, staring out of his window while Judy put on her very best everything-is-fine-kids voice as she chatted away to them. Not that the children noticed the tension between their parents. Scott was engrossed with his phone while Charlie was chattering away non-stop about the importance of shepherds.

‘What do you think, Daddy?’

‘About what?’ Calvin dragged his gaze away from the window and looked at his daughter through the gap between the seats.

‘About shepherds.’

‘Oh.’ Calvin shifted into a more comfortable position. ‘It must be a pretty boring job, mustn’t it? And cold and wet. Who would want to be stuck out in a field all day with nothing but sheep for company? It’s a rubbish job if you ask me.’

‘Da-ad!’ Charlie’s bottom lip started to tremble and her brown eyes pooled with tears.

‘Charlie is playing a shepherd in the school nativity next week,’ Judy hissed.

Oh, candy canes. ‘I was only kidding, Charlie-Chalk.’ Calvin laughed, to show what a silly, jovial mood he was in. ‘Being a shepherd is one of the most important jobs there is. What would we do without shepherds? There’d be sheep running around everywhere, wouldn’t there?’

Charlie nodded, eyes dry again. ‘And they’d poop everywhere, wouldn’t they, Daddy?’

‘Everywhere. Imagine the smell.’

Charlie giggled, her father completely forgiven for his mishap.

‘You did book the time off work, didn’t you?’ Judy asked, ruining the mood. ‘It’s been on the calendar since last month.’

‘Yes, yes, of course I’ve booked the time off work.’ How could Calvin forget when Judy had been chewing his ear off about it for weeks? He turned back towards the window, spending the rest of the journey counting fairy light-framed windows and lit-up Santas along the way.

‘I’m so sorry we’re late.’ Judy hugged her mother when they arrived, trying to convey through body language alone that it was all Calvin’s fault. ‘I hope tea isn’t ruined.’

‘Of course not. No harm done.’ Susan led the family straight through to the dining room where everybody squeezed around the table. ‘I’ve made an early Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. I know it’s not the same as spending the actual day together but it’s the next best thing. I’ve even bought crackers!’

‘Mum says you and Grandpa can’t come to my nativity play.’ Charlie’s wobbly lip was back as she spoke to her grandmother.

‘I’m so sorry, darling.’ Susan stroked Charlie’s curly brown hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. ‘We’ll be away. But maybe your daddy can film it and we can all watch it together when we get back in the New Year. Would you like that?’

‘Can we have popcorn?’

‘Of course.’

‘And ice cream?’

‘Don’t push it,’ Judy said and Charlie reluctantly backed down, fearful that she’d lose the popcorn she’d already bagged if she persisted. ‘Do you need a hand with anything, Mum?’

‘No, thank you. Everything’s under control.’ Susan went through to the kitchen and when she returned she brought with her the festive smells of a good, old-fashioned festive feast. Calvin’s stomach rumbled and he temporarily forgot about the lads and the pint he’d sacrificed for family harmony. The evening’s misdemeanours seemed to be forgotten as the family ate and chatted and pulled crackers with naff jokes and even naffer prizes.

‘Have you told Grandma and Grandad about your band?’ Judy asked Scott.

The tips of Scott’s ears turned pink, glowing brightly against the yellow paper crown he was wearing. ‘We’re playing our first gig on Sunday. They’re switching on the village lights and we’re allowed to play three songs.’

‘Three songs? Wow. You’ll soon be a superstar.’ Susan smiled encouragingly at her grandson before turning to Judy. ‘They’ve left the lights until the last minute, haven’t they?’

‘They were supposed to be switched on at the beginning of December,’ Judy explained. ‘But vandals nicked the bulbs from the tree and they’ve only just been replaced.’

Susan gave a tut. ‘Is nothing safe these days? Bulbs!’

‘So what songs will you be playing?’ Scott’s grandfather asked. Bernard had been in a band himself in his youth, though it had been the church’s brass band and probably not quite in the same league as his grandson’s.

‘We’re playing a couple of Christmas songs. But, like, really cool ones. And then we’re playing a song I wrote with the drummer.’

‘Very impressive. It’s a shame your Grandma and I will miss it.’

‘At least Dad will be there this time.’ Scott couldn’t quite bring himself to forgive his father for missing his first football match for the Woodgate Juniors. Months had passed but it still stung.

‘I only missed one football match.’ Calvin had been caught up with work and he’d made sure he’d been at every one since.

‘You missed all of my basketball games.’

‘You gave up after three.’

‘And you missed my awards ceremony at school.’ Scott believed this was now his trump card for life. Whenever he wanted something, he could always bring out the awards ceremony card to get his way.

‘I had a very important meeting at work.’

‘Yeah, because everything’s more important than us.’ Scott scraped back his chair, excusing himself with the pretence of needing the loo.

‘What’s up with him?’ Calvin asked, watching as his son disappeared from the room with slumped shoulders.

‘Think about it, Calvin,’ Judy said.

Think about what? That his son had turned into a moody teenager? That was hardly his fault, was it?

Calvin sulked – in Judy’s opinion – for the remainder of the evening, sitting hunched in his seat and giving mumbled, one-syllable answers. For Calvin, he was merely sitting and observing his family, responding when he had something to say rather than wittering on. What was the point of speaking anyway when his words were twisted and made into something else? No, he would keep his gob shut and that way he couldn’t be blamed for anything else.

‘Are you going to sulk all night then?’ Judy slipped into the driver’s seat of the car, smiled fixed in place as she waved to her parents on the doorstep, belying the fact that she was livid.

‘I haven’t been sulking.’ Calvin was already belted into his seat, arms thumped across his chest and his gaze fixed on the window. The house across from Susan and Bernard’s was decked out like the Blackpool illuminations. It must have bumped their electricity bill up to at least double the normal price. It was a ludicrous waste of time and money in Calvin’s opinion.

‘You’re still sulking now.’ Judy sighed. There was no point in having this row. Not when they would be stuck inside the car with the children for the next twenty minutes. ‘Are you buckled in, Charlie? Scott, can you check for me?’

‘Just a sec.’ Scott was already engrossed with his DS. His sister’s safety could wait.

‘Scott! Now, please.’ Judy snatched her own seatbelt and dragged it across her body. Why was it always her who had to drive on occasions such as these? Calvin claimed he didn’t feel like driving after enduring rush hour traffic twice a day already, but what about Judy? She baked and served all day but that didn’t stop her from getting food on the table each evening or picking up after three people who were more than capable of picking up after themselves. Judy suspected it had more to do with the cans of lager Calvin had downed and the whiskey he and Bernard had enjoyed on the sly.

‘All right, all right. No need to get all snappy.’ Scott, still clutching his DS, leaned across to check his sister’s seatbelt.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ Judy shouldn’t take her bad mood out on the children. ‘Are we all ready?’

Judy’s mood didn’t improve during the drive home, especially when Calvin parked himself in front of the television as soon as they arrived, leaving it up to Judy to get Charlie ready for bed. It was always the same. If it involved the children, it was automatically Judy’s responsibility.

‘Thanks for tonight. I really appreciate it.’ Judy had been seething all evening but waited until both Charlie and Scott were in bed before venting her frustration.

‘What do you mean?’ Calvin was instantly on edge. Was she truly thankful? Because her tone suggested otherwise.

‘I mean you being a complete baby and sulking. Why do you have to be so rude whenever we visit my parents?’ Judy could understand if her parents were anything like Calvin’s, who couldn’t give a toss about any of them and would rather spend time with their daughter and her family than Calvin’s. But Judy’s parents were nothing but pleasant towards Calvin. They saw him as their son.

‘I need your support, Calvin, especially with Christmas approaching. I’m rushed off my feet all day at work and then when I come home I have to do everything here.’

Calvin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Do you think I have it easy? Do you think I enjoy working my arse off to support this family?’

Judy threw her arms up in the air. Why did she even bother? ‘I work too, you know.’ Judy stormed from the room as hot tears threatened to spill and make her look like a fool. She wasn’t upset. She was angry. Frustrated. Why couldn’t Calvin understand? Why couldn’t he see that her job was just as important as his? Yes, Calvin worked hard but his duties ended as soon as he shut down his computer. He could come home and relax. He didn’t have to cook or clean or ferry the children here and there. He didn’t have to shop or organise or help with homework. Judy’s responsibilities were never-ending.

‘What, that little baking job?’ Calvin had followed Judy and was trailing her up the stairs. ‘You work a few hours a day. Try working my hours and then you’ll know what it’s like to be exhausted. I don’t need this crap after a day’s work.’

‘And I don’t need to run around after an overgrown child.’ Judy had reached the bedroom and contemplated slamming the door in Calvin’s face, but that would only diminish her point. Acting like a hormonal teenager wouldn’t give her the upper hand she thought she deserved. ‘I already have two children. I don’t need another.’

‘So I’m like a child now? You should try living my life and you’d soon change your mind.’

Judy reached out to close the door now Calvin was inside the bedroom, not wanting to wake the children. ‘You should try living my life and then you’d realise what a pig you’re being.’

‘I wish I could live your life.’ Calvin thought how luxurious it would be to work part-time without the commute. ‘I’d happily swap lives with you.’

‘Me too!’

Judy and Calvin stood just inches apart, glaring at their spouse. In the movies, they’d fall into each other’s arms and make up like there was no tomorrow. But this was no movie and Judy and Calvin were far too incensed to even think about sex.

‘You think my life is easy, do you?’ Judy asked. There were those damn tears again! She didn’t want to cry – she wanted to speak and be heard for a change.

‘Compared to mine, yes. You don’t have a jumped-up prick of a boss breathing down your neck or deadlines looming around every corner. You don’t have to battle rush hour traffic or miss out on the kids’ stuff. Do you think I wanted to miss Scott’s award ceremony?’

Judy honestly didn’t know the answer to that. Calvin’s work commitments were unavoidable but she sometimes got the impression Calvin would rather be anywhere else other than with his family.

‘I just need you to understand what my life is like,’ Judy said.

Calvin pulled his hoodie over his head and tossed it towards the laundry basket. It missed by about a foot but he made no attempt to pick it up and try again. Instead, he kicked off his shoes and wriggled out of his jeans before climbing into bed.

‘I know what your life is like, Judy. You never stop bleating on about it.’ Calvin turned away from his wife and within minutes he was snoring and making enough noise to rattle the windows. Picking up Calvin’s discarded clothes and dropping them into the laundry basket, Judy got herself ready for bed, but sleep was not as forthcoming for her as it so audibly was for Calvin.

‘I wish we could trade lives,’ she told Calvin’s back. ‘Then you’d understand.’


Chapter Four: We Made a Wish (#ulink_fede7a0e-1af5-5149-b18e-36852064f76b)

The alarm clock jumped to attention, emitting an annoying but effective siren to wake the occupants of the nearby bed. The occupants groaned and stretched but, as no attempt was made to reach for the clock, it kept going, enjoying stretching its clock equivalent of vocal cords. This clock was a true professional. There would be no snoozing on his watch.

From the bed, Calvin groaned, rubbing at his dry, scratchy eyes. How much had he had to drink last night? His brain was fuzzy but he recalled eating turkey with all the trimmings the evening before. So why could he taste mince pie? Slightly burnt mince pie? Had Christmas been and gone already? Did that mean that they had reached the Benvenuti deadline at work? He hoped the rescheduled photo shoot had gone well. He couldn’t remember it at all.

Shoving his head under his pillow, Calvin mumbled something incoherent about turning off the alarm. Though Calvin couldn’t remember much, he was pretty sure it was the weekend. Didn’t a bloke deserve a lie-in at the weekend?

Inches away from Calvin, Judy stretched out a hand, wriggling fingers searching for the off switch on the alarm. How could it be morning already? It seemed like only minutes ago she’d been driving home from her parents’ and having a stupid row with her husband. But she must have been asleep because she’d been having a weird dream about eating one of her burnt mice pies, fairies and pine needles. A life-sized fairy had crashed into the sitting room, waking her and Calvin and upending the Christmas tree.

Wait, she could even taste mince pie. Had she angrily eaten one before bed last night? She hadn’t really done her mum’s festive spread justice yesterday evening, what with seething about Calvin all through the meal. She’d gone to bed hungry so maybe that hunger had driven her to the kitchen in the night. A belly full of burnt pastry would certainly account for the bizarre fairy dream.

Judy couldn’t seem to locate the alarm. Squinting through one blurry eye, Judy realised what the problem was. She was sleeping on the wrong side of the bed, which meant the alarm was next to Calvin. She gave him a nudge, which ended up being more of a shove. Maybe there was a little residual anger left from their stupid row last night.

Calvin failed to stir and Judy knew there was no point giving him another nudge. Her husband could sleep through a hurricane rampaging through the bedroom. Reaching over Calvin’s cocooned body, she switched off the alarm and dragged herself out of bed, her eyes bleary from lack of sleep. She’d tossed and turned for what felt like hours before she’d eventually succumbed to sleep what felt like only a matter of minutes ago. Shoving her arms into her dressing gown, Judy made her way out into the hallway. The dressing gown felt oddly snug, as though it had shrunk in the wash.

Scott’s bedroom door swung open as she reached out to knock on it, revealing her scowling son.

‘Your stupid alarm woke me up.’ Scott pushed past Judy and stomped his way to the bathroom, only to poke his head back out to face her again. ‘Why are you wearing Mum’s dressing gown? Pink really isn’t your colour.’ Scott sniggered and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Judy would normally tell her son off about the door-slamming (he needed reminding at least five times a day) but she was too preoccupied by the dressing gown thing. Why are you wearing Mum’s dressing gown?

Judy turned around as a door opened behind her. Charlie emerged from her bedroom, one leg of her pyjamas lodged mid-calf so that she resembled a nineties rapper. Judy always thought her daughter looked adorable first thing in the morning, her curls amassed around her head to Sideshow Bob proportions. Of course, it wasn’t quite so adorable when Judy had to brush the curls later on, but for those first few minutes of the day she could appreciate the charm.

‘Is it morning, Daddy?’

Daddy?

Judy looked down at the increasingly uncomfortable dressing gown, pulling it tightly across her body, and realised she was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts underneath.

Boxer shorts?

Slowly peeling away the dressing gown again, she gasped when she caught sight of the hairy belly and even hairier chest beneath the fabric. And her legs! What the hell had happened to her legs? Yes, it was winter and she wasn’t quite as razor-happy as she was in the warmer months but she looked like a Yeti.

‘Can I go and watch cartoons?’ Charlie asked.

‘Yes, sweetie.’ Judy clamped a hand over her mouth, shocked by the voice emerging from her lips. It was gruff but not in a first-thing-in-the-morning, bottom-of-hamster-cage sort of way. It was not her voice at all. It was a man’s voice.

‘Yay!’ Charlie bounded down the stairs, not at all concerned that her mother had spouted an alarming amount of body hair overnight and adopted a man-ish tone.

With shaking fingers, Judy pulled the waistband of the boxer shorts away from her body, wincing as it snapped back into place once she saw what was in there. That did not belong in there at all.

‘Da-ad!’ Charlie hollered up the stairs. ‘What’s happened to the Christmas tree?’

Judy’s eyes widened. The Christmas tree!

The fairy had catapulted into the tree, knocking it to the floor and scattering its pine needles. But that was a dream.

Wasn’t it?

‘Just leave it, sweetie. I’ll sort it out in a minute.’ Judy covered her face with her hands. That was definitely a man’s voice coming out of her mouth. Specifically, her husband’s.

‘What’s up with Mum?’ Scott asked as he emerged from the bathroom. Judy sighed with relief. So Scott could see it too. She wasn’t going mad and imagining things! ‘She usually gets up with us. Are you taking me to football?’

‘I don’t know,’ Judy said in Calvin’s voice. ‘I don’t know what’s going on.’

‘Okay.’ Scott gave Judy a funny look. ‘Whatever. I’m going downstairs.’

‘Don’t touch the tree,’ Judy said before dashing into the bedroom and heading straight to the dressing table mirror. An anguished cry escaped her as she saw the image looking back at her. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

Judy crept towards the bed, releasing another anguished cry as she saw the body sprawled out in the bed. Instead of her husband, she saw herself. Man, she looked rough first thing in the morning.

‘Calvin,’ she hissed, shaking his – her – body. ‘Calvin, wake up. Something’s happened.’

‘What?’ Judy watched as her body propped itself up on its elbow and rubbed at its eyes. It threw back its head and flung open its jaws to yawn. Yep, there were her fillings.

‘Calvin!’ Judy hissed again, eager to get this mess sorted out.

‘What do you want?’ Calvin asked in Judy’s voice. He opened his eyes and shook his head as he took in his own image staring back at him. ‘What the –’

‘We’ve switched bodies.’ Judy sank onto the bed and grasped Calvin’s – or rather or her own – arm. Gosh, this was confusing. ‘I had a dream. We were visited by an overgrown fairy.’

‘She woke us up,’ Calvin said slowly.

‘Yes!’ Judy’s eyes almost popped out of her skull. ‘Yes, that’s right! She appeared in our sitting room. Crashed into the tree.’

‘We ate a burnt mince pie and we made a wish,’ Calvin said. It started to come back to Calvin then, slowly at first and then rushing at him and knocking the breath from his body. The row. The peculiar winged being destroying their Christmas tree. The wish to swap lives. The fairy had said they could switch lives – live as one another – until Christmas Day. All they had to do to make it happen was eat one of those dodgy mince pies.

‘Up to Christmas Day?’ Judy had asked. ‘Or including Christmas Day? It’s just that Calvin would never be able to handle the turkey and everything. We’d end up having a not-very-festive plate of egg and chips for lunch if it was left to him.’

‘Hey!’ Calvin had cried. ‘I can handle a bloody turkey. All you have to do is shove it in the oven.’

Judy and the fairy had shared a look. ‘Up until Christmas then.’ The fairy gave a decisive nod of her head. ‘You’ll spend Christmas Eve as the other person, then you’ll switch back in time for the big day.’

So they didn’t trust him with the bloody turkey. ‘Isn’t Christmas two weeks away?’

The fairy had turned to Calvin with a sweet smile, her eyes twinkling like a set of fairy lights. ‘Don’t you think you could handle two weeks of Judy’s life, Petal?’

‘Handle it?’ Calvin had snorted with derision. ‘It’ll be like a holiday. Bring. It. On.’

‘Then wish it. Say “I wish we could swap lives”. Both of you. Then take a bite of the mince pie.’

Judy and Calvin had looked at one another before they both uttered the words. ‘I wish we could both switch lives.’

But that wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real.

‘Look, Calvin.’ Calvin’s replica pointed to the other end of the room, at the large mirror on Judy’s dressing table. The image of Calvin and Judy stared back at them in the wrong order. ‘I’m you. And you’re me. The wish came true. We’ve switched bodies.’


Chapter Five: The First Stage in Wish-Fulfilment: Denial (#ulink_6e4068ca-76cd-537e-b8fa-5a9a9d84b948)

Calvin gave a snort and threw back the covers. Switched bodies indeed. What a load of nonsense! Yes, he did appear to be wearing Judy’s penguin-print fleecy pyjamas (that he’d never found particularly sexy on his wife and which he suspected were even less appealing on him). And yes, his voice was a bit squeaky and feminine, but there was no way he had switched bodies with his wife. It was a ludicrous idea!

‘Look at the state of me. I’m so hairy,’ Judy-in-Calvin’s-body wailed as she looked down at her bare chest.

Calvin ignored the hysterics as he made his way towards the dressing table mirror. There would be some explanation. Some trickery. Some way to put an end to this charade. He reached out and touched the glass but the mirror seemed real enough. He frowned. Judy frowned in the reflection. He stuck his tongue out. Judy stuck her tongue out. He stretched the corners of his lips with his thumbs, baring his teeth while tugging down on the skin underneath his eyes with his index fingers. Judy pulled the same face back at him.

‘No, no, no.’ Calvin stepped away from the mirror, shaking his head. Judy stepped away from her side of the mirror, shaking her head. ‘This can’t be real. This is insane! People don’t wish for things that come true. Not crazy shit like this.’ He turned to Judy, who was inspecting the contents of her shorts and curling her lip in distaste. ‘They might wish for a promotion that they then rightfully earn. But they do not wish to change lives with their wife and end up in her body. Judy! Stop playing with my knob and take this seriously.’

‘Sorry.’ Judy let go of the waistband of the shorts and turned her attention to her husband. She had never seen herself looking so terrified. It was unsettling.

‘This is nuts, Judy.’

Judy thought about the nuts that were currently attached to her body and nestled in her shorts. This was by far the craziest dream she had ever had (and it had to be a dream, Judy realised. Calvin was right – for once – wishes just didn’t come true). She’d laugh about all of this once she woke up.

‘What are we going to do?’ Calvin asked.

‘What can we do?’ Judy gave a shrug. ‘This has to be a dream, brought on by eating burnt pastry. We’ll just have to get on with things until we wake up and things go back to normal.’

Judy wriggled out of the snug dressing gown and reached for her deodorant, only realising she’d picked up the wrong one as she lifted her arm and caught sight of a hairy pit in the mirror. She doubted Calvin would be impressed if she made his body smell of jasmine and creamy vanilla. Picking up Calvin’s musky deodorant instead, she got herself ready, kitting herself out in a pair of Calvin’s baggy jeans and a gloriously roomy hoodie. Why did she truss herself up like an Egyptian mummy in tight jeans and tops when loose clothing was quite clearly the better option?

‘What are you doing?’ she asked once she realised Calvin had snuggled back down under the covers.

‘It’s still early.’ Calvin nodded towards the alarm clock. ‘And it’s the weekend so I’m getting a few more zeds in.’

Without a word, Judy peeled the hoodie off and kicked off the jeans, resisting the urge to pick them up and fold them neatly away and instead leaving them where they happened to land. She climbed into bed, placed her feet against her husband’s back and gave him an almighty shove so that he toppled out of bed and onto the floor.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Calvin picked himself up and rubbed at his knee.

‘I’m going back to bed and having a lie-in.’ Judy settled herself back down into the pillows. ‘And you’re going to drop Scott off at football and take Charlie to ballet.’

Calvin was still rubbing at his (probably bruised) knee. ‘Why me?’

‘Because you’re Mum now.’ Judy pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. It was a pity she’d have to wake up and do those jobs herself soon. ‘And that’s what Mum does in this house. Dad is going back to sleep. Oh –’ Judy opened one eye, enjoying the look of horror on her face that now belonged to her husband. ‘Don’t forget to take Miller out for a walk before you go.’

Miller tugged on his lead, insisting that he and Judy (who was actually Calvin but the dog didn’t know that) walk beyond the first tree that they came to. Calvin had expected to dash outside, let Miller do his business and then dash back inside but Miller had other ideas. Calvin found himself being dragged through the village and along the canal, trailing through a muddy dirt track and along the high street, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to put up any resistance. He couldn’t believe he was going along with this. Not the walking the dog thing. He did that regularly. Well, as regularly as a full-time job and his commitments would allow. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d taken Miller out, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen.

No, it was the whole body-swap thing he couldn’t quite grasp. How could he be expected to believe that he had switched bodies with his wife? The evidence was pretty damning, he had to admit. Calvin was currently sporting a pair of women’s jeans (which were overly clingy and not very comfortable), a pink jumper (which Judy had found hilarious) and a beige mac, which was the most masculine coat Judy owned. Oh yes, AND HE HAD JUDY’S BODY AND FACE.

What the hell was happening to him? Had the stress of the Benvenuti campaign got to him? His boss had been piling on the pressure lately – maybe Calvin had finally cracked. That must be it. He was stressed and overtired and that was making him temporarily barking.

‘Morning, Judy.’ Calvin’s thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Enid Thomas, Judy’s boss at The Green Teapot. He remembered to play along, smiling and returning the greeting. ‘Are you still okay to work tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow?’ Aha! Here was further proof that this wasn’t real (the first bit of evidence being that it wasn’t possible). Judy didn’t work on Sundays.

‘Yes, tomorrow. You said you’d work an extra shift during the lights switch-on.’

Oh.

‘Is that still okay?’

‘Yes. Absolutely.’ Surely they’d have sorted out this mess by tomorrow and Judy could work the shift as arranged. Calvin certainly didn’t want to be stuck working at the weekend. The weekend was his only chance to rest.

‘And you’re still okay to bake the extra batches?’

‘Yes.’

‘Brilliant!’ Enid flashed him a radiant smile and patted him on the arm. ‘Thank you, Judy.’

‘No problem. I’m happy to help.’

Calvin wondered how soon he could get an appointment to see the doctor.

Judy was up and dressed by the time Calvin arrived back at the house with Miller. She’d tried to go back to sleep but the drama of the morning had ensured that she was wide awake, so she’d got herself dressed again and wandered downstairs, where she’d discovered the toppled Christmas tree and their poor, battered fairy. She’d managed to right the tree and hoover up the pine needles but she was afraid the fairy’s wings would always be a bit wonky from now on.

Judy was in the kitchen when she heard Calvin arrive back from his walk with Miller. She was planning on enjoying a leisurely breakfast for a change. She didn’t know how long this dream would last or what would happen next – perhaps she’d change into Scott or even Miller – so she was going to make the most of it.

‘You’d better hurry up,’ she told Calvin. ‘Scott will be late for football.’

‘Where is he?’ Calvin hung up Miller’s lead and grabbed the car keys.

‘Gone back to bed, I think.’ What should Judy have for breakfast? Cereal? Toast? Whatever it was, she wouldn’t have to cram it into her mouth between batches of cakes or biscuits or on the way to the car. She would have the luxury of sitting down to eat and actually chewing her food.

‘He’s in bed?’ Calvin checked his watch. Football practice started in half an hour and it meant driving into town. ‘Why didn’t you get him up?’

Judy closed the cupboard containing the breakfast cereals. She would push the boat out and have breakfast in the village. ‘When was the last time you got our son out of bed? I’ll give you a clue: he was still in nappies.’

‘That isn’t true at all.’ Was it?

‘I think you’ll find Mum is responsible for all duties involving the children. Which reminds me, you need to go into town this afternoon to do a bit of Christmas shopping.’ Judy had been planning on nipping into town to pick up some bits and pieces while Calvin ferried the children around for their activities, but no! Calvin would never waste his Saturday morning shopping. He hadn’t bought a Christmas present since 2001. Christmas presents – the shopping for and wrapping of (including her own) – had always been Judy’s domain, although not by choice. No, if Calvin thought her life was a breeze, he could have the full-on experience.

‘I’ve made you a list.’ Judy passed him the slip of paper. He was lucky; Judy had already bought the majority of the gifts weeks ago. There were only a few more bits and pieces left to buy.

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ Calvin snatched the list and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.

‘Hysterically.’ It was just a pity Judy would wake up in her own body soon.

With Calvin and the children on their way to football and ballet, Judy took herself to The Green Teapot for a croissant and a pot of tea. It made a nice change to have somebody bringing her tea instead of having to serve it.

‘We don’t usually see you so bright and early on a Saturday,’ Enid said as she placed Judy’s order on the table.

‘That’s because I’m usually languishing in bed until lunchtime.’ Judy smiled at her boss and picked up her warm croissant. She took her time with her breakfast, savouring every moment while it lasted. She wouldn’t get this chance again.

‘Can I get a croissant and a coffee to go?’ Abby Frost barged her way into the tea room in a pair of skin-tight jeans and heeled knee-length boots. ‘Quick as you can. I’m in a rush.’ Marching to the window, she wriggled her fingers at the car waiting outside. Her daughter waved back from the passenger seat. ‘Oh hello, Calvin!’ Abby tottered to Judy’s table and dropped into the seat opposite. ‘We’re just on our way to ballet. Why don’t you ever come along? You’d cheer the place right up!’ Abby pouted at Judy, her lips a glossy red. She’d definitely had them done. Either that or she’d been stung in the chops by a hundred bees all at once.

‘Ballet’s not really my thing,’ Judy said. The thought of Calvin being stuck in a room full of Abby-alikes was quite amusing. That was one activity she really wasn’t going to miss.

‘That’s a shame,’ Abby purred, blinking coquettishly at Judy. Was she trying to flirt with Judy’s husband? ‘We could use a bit of testosterone around the place. Especially from someone as handsome as you.’ She squeezed Calvin’s arm and batted her eyelashes.

She bloody well was!

Judy wondered whether you could injure somebody with half a lukewarm croissant.

‘Croissant and coffee to take away,’ Enid called out, holding the order aloft. Judy was glad to see the glint of disapproval in her boss’s eyes as she watched Abby.

‘I guess I’ll see you around.’ Abby pouted at Judy once more before she grabbed her order and tottered out to the car.

What a cow! Judy had never liked Abby in the playground or at the PTA meetings and she liked her even less now. She wasn’t really hungry after her encounter with Abby so, once the car had turned out of the green, she had a stroll through the village, stopping to pick up the papers and admire the festive window display of the children’s bookshop. She noticed that there was going to be a Christmas story time that afternoon. She could take Charlie while Calvin was out shopping. It had been ages since she’d had the time to take her daughter to story time. Being Calvin was bliss.

Calvin was feeling anything but blissful as he sat in the small, too-hot room in the community centre, surrounded by a gaggle of gossipy mothers as their children pointed their toes and twirled around in the next room. Calvin was bored stupid. He couldn’t wait to get home and put his feet up with the papers. How long did he have left?

Forty minutes.

Great.

‘It’s an absolute nightmare,’ one of the mothers said with such drama she should have been performing at the Globe Theatre. She looked vaguely familiar. Calvin had never been to Charlie’s ballet classes or any of her performances as he’d always happened to have meetings scheduled that he couldn’t get out of. And if he didn’t, he’d made one up. He couldn’t help it. Ballet wasn’t his thing at all.

Calvin figured this woman must be a parent from Charlie’s school. She’d been bleating on about the extension her husband had bought her as an early Christmas present for the past fifteen minutes.

‘There’s nothing but dust and noise! It wouldn’t be so bad if there were any hunky builders but they’re all fat and hairy.’ The mother shuddered. ‘I can’t wait to escape over Christmas. Did I tell you he’s booked a Caribbean cruise for us? It’s going to be gorgeous. No stress over cooking or putting up with family squabbles. I can’t wait!’

Calvin should have bought a newspaper en route. He didn’t think he could put up with much more of this garbage.

‘I’ve bought him a car. He’s had the Merc for three years now so I thought he deserved an upgrade. He’s had his eye on this Ferrari for a while now so I’ve treated him.’

Calvin leapt out of his seat and wandered to the window but he could still hear the woman going on and on about money as though it grew on a tree at the bottom of her garden.

‘I’m going to take Tabitha on a surprise shopping spree at the end of term. She’s been desperate for this Dolce & Gabbana dress and she’s going to need a whole new wardrobe for the cruise.’

‘You’re taking Tabitha on the cruise with you?’

‘Oh, yes. I wouldn’t want to go without my baby! My mother’s coming with us though, so she can babysit and give us a bit of time together, you know.’

Calvin thought seriously about jumping through the window. Hopefully the glass would slice into something vital and end this torture.

On and on she went, the other mothers oohing and aahing and nodding in agreement when all Calvin wanted to do was scream at her to shut up. He didn’t care about her extension or the new kitchen or the cruise. He certainly didn’t want to hear about the bloody Ferrari. He bet this woman and her super-rich hubby wiped their arses on bank notes.

‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Finally the ballet class ended and Charlie came tearing towards Calvin. ‘Come and meet Miss Pasquin!’ Calvin had been hoping to head straight home once Charlie’s ballet class finally came to an end, but his daughter had other ideas and dragged him to meet her new ballet teacher. Miss Pasquin was tall and implausibly thin and she couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old.

‘Mrs Neil.’ Miss Pasquin shook Calvin’s hand daintily. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m going to be helping out my mum here to make sure the girls are ready for the Christmas show.’

‘Mrs Pasquin is Miss Pasquin’s mummy.’ Charlie covered her mouth and giggled, finding the whole concept hilarious. What would she think if she knew her mummy was really her daddy?

‘Are you looking forward to our Christmas show?’ Miss Pasquin brushed Charlie’s curls with her dainty hand. ‘Charlie here has been working so hard. She’s going to be a superstar reindeer!’

‘Tabitha wanted to be a reindeer but she has to be an elf.’ Charlie beamed up at Calvin, proud of her achievement.

‘Elves are just as important in the show too,’ Miss Pasquin pointed out.

‘But I bet they’re not as important as reindeer, are they?’ Calvin nudged Charlie and she giggled.

‘All parts are important to the show, Mrs Neil.’ Miss Pasquin’s features had become pinched so Calvin decided it was time to get out of there before she gave him a ticking off. Miss Pasquin may have been young, but she looked fierce.

‘Come on, Charlie-Chalk. It’s time to go home.’ Calvin held out a hand for his daughter, but Charlie hesitated.

‘You don’t call me Charlie-Chalk.’ Her little brow was furrowed as she looked up at Calvin. ‘Daddy calls me Charlie-Chalk.’

Good point. ‘What do I call you then?’

Charlie giggled, assuming her mum was playing a game. ‘You call me sweetie. Because I’m sweet.’

‘Then come on, sweetie.’ This time Charlie took Calvin’s hand. ‘Let’s go home.’ The sooner the better. But it took a good while to actually get Charlie into the car as she insisted on showing off her ballet moves after every other step, proving her worth as a reindeer. But eventually she was in the car and buckled into her seat. Calvin couldn’t wait to sink into his chair at home and have a well-deserved rest.

‘Reindeer are better than elves, aren’t they, Mummy?’ Charlie asked as they made their way back towards the village.

‘A million times better,’ Calvin replied. ‘Elves smell like wee.’

Charlie covered her mouth and giggled. ‘Tabitha isn’t going to be home at Christmas. She’s going on a big boat. That means she won’t get any presents, doesn’t it? There won’t be a chimney for Santa.’

Calvin guessed that Tabitha was the offspring of Mrs Super-Rich and suspected she’d be getting a lot of presents. Expensive ones her mother could brag about. But he didn’t tell Charlie this.

‘Mummy?’ Charlie had continued to chatter away for the entire journey but her tone was suddenly sharper as they reached the village. ‘Why didn’t we pick up Scott?’


Chapter Six: The Second and Third Stages in Wish-Fulfilment: Fear and Anger (#ulink_d5a51422-0fe7-5af9-8e43-8908b4423463)

So Calvin’s rest would have to wait as he was forced to turn the car around and head back into town to pick up his disgruntled son. Scott was not impressed that he’d been left in the freezing cold for so long and took his grievance out on his younger sister, teasing her relentlessly and causing her to whine in frustration. Calvin was ready to kick them out of the car and make them walk the rest of the way home. He was cranky enough after spending the morning listening to the bragging of Mrs Money Tree without adding two squabbling kids into the mix.

‘Can you two please just be quiet for five minutes? You’re giving me a headache.’ Calvin couldn’t wait until this mess was sorted out. Perhaps the doctor could prescribe a pill to take the crazy away.

‘But Mummy, Scott keeps prodding me and it hurts.’

‘I am not. She’s just being a baby.’

‘I’m not being a baby. You’re being a big poo-poo-head. Ow! Mummy! Scott pinched me.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

Calvin thought about kicking himself out of the car and walking the rest of the way home. Alone.

‘Please. I’m begging you to act like civilised people and stop arguing and pinching and everything else that’s going on back there.’ Calvin took a quick look in his mirror to see if his children had listened. Scott was picking at a patch of dried-on dirt on his shin while Charlie was wafting her hands and humming a now all too familiar tune from the upcoming Christmas show. It seemed they’d taken in his plea and had granted him a reprieve from their bickering.

It lasted for a whole thirty-two seconds before all hell broke loose in the back seat of the car. Calvin jabbed at the radio to drown them out as there was clearly no reasoning with them. Elton John’s ‘Step into Christmas’ blasted into the car. Calvin didn’t want to step into Christmas. He wanted to step into his house and park his arse in his chair with the newspaper.

They finally made it back to the village – again – and Calvin had never been so grateful to see his house. He was already mentally kicking off his shoes and opening his newspaper. But he didn’t get the chance to do either as Judy insisted he turn right back around again, reminding him about the shopping list lodged in his pocket.

Charlie was super-excited when Judy suggested they go to the bookshop on the green for story time. Judy was quite surprised the dream had yet to end, but she wasn’t going to complain. Layering Charlie up in her coat and woolly hat, scarf and gloves, they headed out into the cold.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to come?’ Judy asked Scott before she shut the door. ‘We’re going to get hot chocolates. Maybe even a cake?’

Scott looked as though Judy had just suggested they strip off their clothes and climb the giant Christmas tree on the green. ‘Er, no. I’m going to band practice in a bit.’

‘Do you want a lift?’ Charlie was hopping from foot to foot and tugging on Judy’s arm, eager to get to their festive activity but Judy was feeling guilty at leaving her son behind.

Scott looked suspicious. ‘Why?’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’re always telling me you’re not a taxi service?’ Scott suggested.

‘I do not say that!’ Judy cried before realising that she was Calvin now and therefore probably did say that. Quite a lot. ‘Not often.’

‘You say it all the time. Anyway, I’m getting a lift off Jack’s dad.’ Scott gave a shrug and wandered away, leaving Judy staring into an empty hallway.

‘Bye then,’ Judy called before closing and locking the door and giving in to Charlie’s demand to come on before we miss it!

Story time, Judy assured her daughter, wasn’t for another hour so they headed across to The Green Teapot, where Judy ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a gingerbread Christmas tree with green icing and gold edible balls for Charlie and a cup of tea for herself. She thought having a cake herself was a bit greedy after eating a croissant that morning but then she remembered that a) she was in Calvin’s body and therefore it would be his problem afterwards and b) this was a dream so the calories wouldn’t count.

‘And I’ll have a gingerbread macaroon, please.’

Judy joined Charlie at the table she’d chosen by the window. Outside, the green was still glistening slightly from the morning’s frost.

‘I know your mummy,’ the man at the neighbouring table was telling Charlie as Judy approached.

‘Do you?’ Charlie asked and the man nodded.




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