Lily, Charlie and the Christmas Map: A Lily and Charlie Christmas Adventure
About
Snow had been falling since breakfast.
Not the wet, slushy sort that disappeared as soon as it touched the pavement, but proper Christmas snow — soft white flakes that settled on rooftops, garden walls and the bare branches of the trees.
Lily stood at the sitting-room window and watched the street slowly disappear beneath it.
Charlie stood beside her.
Or rather, Charlie had his front paws balanced on the windowsill while the rest of him stretched as far as a beagle could stretch without falling over.
His nose left a small misty patch on the glass.
“You’ll never catch them, you know,” Lily told him.
Charlie glanced at her.
Another snowflake drifted past the window.
Charlie snapped at the glass.
Lily laughed.
“I told you.”
From the kitchen came the warm smell of gingerbread, cinnamon and something else Lily could not quite identify.
Whatever it was, Charlie identified it immediately.
His paws dropped from the windowsill.
His ears lifted.
His nose twitched.
Then he turned towards the kitchen.
“No.”
Charlie looked back at Lily.
“You’ve already had one.”
Charlie tilted his head.
Lily folded her arms.
“And half of mine.”
Charlie sat down.
He produced his most sorrowful expression.
It was a look that Lily knew very well.
Charlie used it whenever someone had food.
“You are not starving.”
Charlie sighed.
At least, Lily was certain it was a sigh.
Her mother appeared in the doorway carrying a tray of gingerbread stars.
“Who’s starving?”
Charlie was on his feet before Lily could answer.
“Mum!”
“What?”
“You know exactly what he’s doing.”
Her mother smiled.
Charlie sat beautifully.
His tail swept backwards and forwards across the rug.