Under The Mistletoe: Mistletoe Mansion / The Mince Pie Mix-Up / Baby It's Cold Outside

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‘Not Antonia Hamilton who won last year’s Strictly Disco?’

He clasped his hands together. ‘Yes! She visited. I think she took time off from her tour to help choreograph Melissa’s fitness DVD. I looked through my backlog of Starchat and sure enough, they both went to school together. They’d been photographed together by the paparazzi at some school reunion.’

‘You keep a backlog of Starchat magazines too? My boyfriend never understood why I did that.’

‘Neither did Ken.’

‘And Infamous magazine?’

‘Shh! It’s our little secret! We really ought to be reading some more upmarket coffee table magazine in Harpenden.’

I grinned again.

‘You’ll have to come round some time, Kimmy. Now must go. Frazzle will be wondering where I am.’ He tilted his cap. ‘Ciao, sweetie! Any problems, I’m just next door.’

Frazzle? Was that a nickname for some new boyfriend? He paused for a few seconds to look at Mistletoe Mansion, opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then changed his mind.

Mrs Winsford! Antonia Hamilton! Living here was going to be so cool. Maybe I’d become good mates with Melissa, we’d go shopping and she’d tell me the latest gossip about her famous chums. Perhaps she’d advise me on keeping your man, and help me win back Adam.

Humming quietly, I led Groucho up the drive, when he suddenly ground to a halt. His chocolate button eyes stared right up at the locked front left room. I followed his gaze and the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. In that top window, staring straight back, appeared a…a strangely illuminated, transparent face. Every millimetre of moisture drained from my mouth and my legs felt wobbly. I squinted as it darted from side to side, my heart racing and hands feeling clammy. OMG! Not only did we live next to a celebrity – now we had our very own ghost.

OF COURSE! The G word that Deborah had managed to hide… That red writing, under the hole-punch… The Gh must have meant… I swallowed hard: Must Love Ghosts.

I’d always wanted to appear on Most Haunted, that programme where they investigated spooky goings-on. Now I had my own live show. Stumbling slightly, I scooped up Groucho and looked around for Terry, but there was no sight of the bright anorak. I forced myself to gaze up at the window again and jumped back – it was still there.

‘Cooee!’ I warbled and waved with a trembling hand. Appear friendly. Don’t show you’re scared to death (unfortunate use of words, there).

The face stopped still for a minute then darted manically. My stomach scrunched. Perhaps I’d upset it. Who knows what other ghouls were in this place? With a deep breath, I charged towards the house. There was no time to lose. Practically wetting myself with fear or not, I had to get in the house and warn Jess.