A Christmas Wish Read Online Free

have had weeks to prepare and this really isn’t good enough! Outside, now!’ She pointed towards the door. Poppy remembered the gold cross that dangled below her wrist from her gold bracelet. It twisted in the light and made her think of Jesus.
    It had almost been a relief to go outside and stand with her back against the painted wall. Far easier than watching her classmates use generous dollops from the glue pot to add little felt jackets, heart and star stickers, googly eyes and hair made from wool onto their puppets, which were finished off with large sticks shoved up their jacksies.
    It was these memories, sharp and bitter, there for perfect recall, which made Poppy feel waves of anger towards her mother. The thought of Peg or Max experiencing even a second of unease or discomfort made her heart constrict. She wanted to bubble-wrap them from the world for as long as possible, keeping them safe and happy inside her little nest and this instinct made it even harder to understand her mum’s total lack of interest.
    Poppy stood and perused the school noticeboard opposite the classroom, where idling parents could read about what was going on in the school community. She leant towards it, studying the posters and flyers that detailed fundraising events, dates for the pre-school Nativity, slimming clubs with vacancies and mother and baby yoga classes. She squinted at the telephone numbers of enterprising mums who flogged candles and aloe vera products at awkward parties where you felt obliged to buy something after knocking back a glass of cheap plonk and a slack handful of salted peanuts.
    The classroom door opened suddenly and Freddie’s parents spewed forth like a laughing, chattering wave breaking in the hallway.
    ‘Oh yes, let’s do that! Call you soon!’
    ‘Bye! Have a lovely break, Janine!’
    ‘You too. Bye bye!’
    Poppy swallowed the swell of sickness that washed over her as nerves threatened. Janine , so that was what the ‘J’ stood for. As a child she had always found it impossible to imagine her teachers having a first name; she just couldn’t picture them being referred to as anything other than Miss or Mr. The other thing she just couldn’t picture was what they looked like in their pyjamas.
    ‘Ah, yes, Mrs…?’
    Poppy had met Mrs Newman on a couple of occasions and yet didn’t seem to have gelled in the woman’s mind.
    ‘Day, Poppy Day.’
    ‘Of course, come in, Mrs Day.’
    Poppy stuttered. ‘Oh… sorry, actually it’s Mrs Cricket. I’m Peg’s mum. Poppy Day is my not married name.’ She blushed. Not married name ?
    ‘I see. Please sit.’ Mrs Newman stretched out her palm towards the chairs and gave the ‘t’ such a hard sound, Poppy felt like a dog. ‘No Mr Cricket?’ Mrs Newman looked at the little chair next to her.
    Poppy bit her lip, fighting the temptation to say, ‘Yes, he is sitting right next to me; he is just very, very small!’
    ‘No, he’s in Sy—’ She stopped herself. What had he said? ‘No specifics, just say “away”.’ She gave a small cough. ‘He’s away.’
    Poppy watched Mrs Newman inhale deeply as if preparing for battle.
    ‘I see.’ She shuffled the sheets of paper in front of her. ‘Peg has been in my class for one term now…’ She paused and looked up. ‘May I ask, is Peg an abbreviation?’
    ‘Not really. I mean, yes, it is, but not for Margaret or anything, which I get asked a lot. Her name is Peggy, but she’s always been Peg.’
    Poppy noticed the flicker of irritation around the woman’s eyes. She continued as if Poppy hadn’t spoken.
    ‘If I am being honest, it has been a most challenging term.’
    Poppy wondered if it would be okay to have the dishonest version, thinking it might be slightly easier to hear. ‘In what way?’
    Mrs Newman pushed her glasses up her nose, back to the point from which they had slid. ‘Peg asks a lot of questions.’ She smiled briefly.
    ‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Shows she’s