Page 80 of Driving Home for Christmas

He places the ring on my finger, and I squeal. It’s green onyx, just like the earrings I wanted last Christmas. He remembered. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so instead I throw my arms around him and do both.

‘I love you so much,’ I tell him. ‘I’m going to be the best non-wife ever!’

‘I love you, too,’ he says, placing his hands on my face, then kissing me, so softly, I fear I might melt.

‘Eww, they’re kissing!’

I pull my face away from Ed to see Tom, in bright green wellies, making a beeline for us, just as his snowball hits my leg.

‘What the. . .’ Everyone is here, not just Ed’s parents: Mum, Gary, even Gubba. I wave my newly not-engaged hand towards everyone like the Queen.

‘Well, you did say you wanted a joint Christmas this year,’ Ed remarks. ‘Everyone together in one place.’

‘Yeah, I didn’t mean the station car park, Ed.’

‘Think they saw all that?’ he asks.

‘Yep,’ I reply. ‘One hundred per cent. Look at your mum’s face– she’s about to implode.’

He smiles and takes a deep breath. ‘OK. Ready to go and confuse the shit out of everyone?’

‘Definitely,’ I reply. ‘We can. . .’ My words are muffled by a second snowball which lands squarely on the side of my face.

Tom laughs loudly. ‘Yeah! You got her, Gubba!’

Gubba? I wipe my face to see Gubba laughing hysterically.

Ed and I take cover behind the bus which pulls up to collect the rest of the passengers and begin scooping up snow, ready to pelt the living daylights out of an elderly woman and a young boy. However, Ed’s dad lands one on Gary and knocks his hat off which makes me roar with laughter.

As I watch our families begin their first proper Christmas together with a snowball fight, I can’t help but smile. Of all the fights I’ve had at Christmas, this is by far my favourite.