And a Sixpence for Luck Author: Lilac Mills

Daisy Jones has hit rock bottom. Or so she believes.

A cheating boyfriend, trouble at work, having to move back in with her mother, and being forced to compare her brother's loved-up, newly-wed status and brand-new shiny house with her own dire lack of prospects, isn't what she imagined her life was going to be like at thirty. To top it all off, Christmas is just around the corner!

Daisy, bless her, thinks things can't possibly get any worse, but when her ancient great-grandmother persuades her to plant a silver sixpence in the Christmas pud for luck, Daisy is about to discover that they most definitely can.

Sandra made the brandy sauce and Daisy took centre stage as she carefully carried the flaming pudding into the dining room, images of accidentally setting the curtains alight popping into her head. What idiot had started the stupid tradition of pouring neat brandy onto a pile of cooked fruit and setting it on fire anyway? Someone who sold sprinklers or smoke alarms for a living, probably.

‘Ooh,’ Gee-Gee exclaimed. ‘It looks lovely. Did you make a wish?’

‘Yes, Gee-Gee, when I put the sixpence in, remember?’ Daisy replied.

‘What did you wish for?’

Elsie said, ‘Don’t tell, Daisy, otherwise it won’t come true.’

‘Since when did you believe in sixpences?’ Gwenda demanded. ‘You’re too miserable to believe in anything! You’ve never been the same since that man of yours did a runner.’

‘Pudding anyone?’ Daisy asked, seeing the very real possibility of the once-civilised meal deteriorating into a verbal mud-slinging match. Exactly the same thing had happened last year, except Elsie had started it first. This year it appeared to be Gee-Gee’s turn.

‘I’ll have some,’ David replied, gamely, as he held out his hand for a bowl.

Zoe shook her head, and Daisy thought the girl didn’t look at all well.

‘Gee-Gee?’ Daisy asked, praying she’d managed to head things off at the pass.

‘And whose fault was that?’ Elsie demanded.

‘Gee-Gee? Pudding?’ Daisy tried again, hearing the slight sound of desperation in her own voice.

‘Yours, that’s who!’ Elsie continued. ‘You frightened him off.’

‘If your daughter had come home at eighteen and told you she was up the duff, you’d frighten off the bloke who’d got her that way, too,’ Gee-Gee said.

‘Nan? Pudding?’ Daisy pleaded, looking at David for help when Elsie failed to respond. David had his head down and his gaze on his own bowl, and was pretending he was deaf.

Daisy saw her sister-in-law kick him on the shin, and he looked up at his wife in confusion. Zoe waggled her eyebrows at him, and jerked her head at the combatants.

‘Oh, er, right. Now?’ David asked.

Zoe nodded.

‘We was going to get married, before you went and interfered,’ Elsie stated.

Daisy decided she’d done all she could, and it was best to keep out of it and let the two old biddies have their slanging match, so she turned her attention to her own dessert and spooned some of the pudding into her mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise. It was actually quite good, and the brandy sauce set it off nicely. Why hadn’t she eaten Christmas pudding before now? Why hadn’t she made it before now?

David clinked his spoon against the side of his glass. Everyone ignored him.

‘Bah!’ Gwenda fired back. ‘He got what he wanted from you, then he took off like a rat up a drainpipe when he saw the size of your belly. And who ended up looking after you and your baby, eh? Me, that’s who!’ Gwenda tried to poke herself in the chest with a distorted finger.

‘I didn’t ask you to!’ Elsie cried, snatching up an empty bowl and angrily dolloping a generous helping of Christmas pudding into it.

‘We’re pregnant,’ David said.

‘Yes, that’s right, David,’ Gwenda said. ‘Your grandmother got herself pregnant.’

‘It takes two, you know,’ Elsie retorted. ‘I didn’t do it all by myself.’

‘No, but you had to raise the baby all by yourself, didn’t you?’ Gee-Gee’s face creased into a smirk.

‘I thought you just said you raised the baby,’ Elsie countered.

‘Pregnant?’ Sandra repeated.

‘Keep up,’ Gwenda grumbled. ‘Of course, your mother was pregnant. How do you think you got here?’

Daisy shot a swift glance at Zoe, who was staring down at her hands as they twisted in her lap. No wonder her sister-in-law was upset. Daisy’s family was enough to upset a gang of football hooligans on the way to a match. This sort of squabble tended to happen quite often between the three women, which was possibly one of the reasons why Freddie always found some excuse or another to avoid Sunday lunch at Sandra’s house.

‘I’m not talking about Mum,’ Sandra said.

‘Who are you talking about, then?’ Elsie asked, and Daisy, sensing she’d missed something important, hurriedly shoved the last spoonful of pudding into her mouth.

‘Zoe, my lovely wife,’ David said, ‘is expecting a baby.’

Daisy tried to swallow the mouthful of pudding and speak at the same time. She took a breath, felt something hard hit the back of her throat and swallowed convulsively. It was stuck. She tried to swallow again, but it didn’t budge. When she tried to take another breath, she realised what had happened.

That bloody sixpence!

If you've ever thought you had a run of bad luck, you should read about Daisy Jones. 
Daisy has a job few can boast. She is in a surprising relationship and has a close but contestible relationship with the women in her family. She calls her brother Saint David.

After a delicious first experience with Christmas pudding almost kills her, Daisy's life will never be the same. Humorous miscommunications make this a most enjoyable read, although frustrating for Daisy. Her eyes are opened and each of her relationships changes. 
Unlike any other romance you've come across, Daisy and her luck are unique.

Bio

Lilac spends all her time writing, or reading, or thinking about writing or reading, often to the detriment of her day job, her family, and the housework. She apologises to her employer and her loved ones, but the house will simply have to deal with it!

She calls Worcester home, though she would prefer to call somewhere hot and sunny home, somewhere with a beach and cocktails and endless opportunities for snoozing in the sun…

When she isn’t hunched over a computer or dreaming about foreign shores, she enjoys creating strange, inedible dishes in the kitchen, accusing her daughter of stealing (she meant to say “borrowing”) her clothes, and fighting with her husband over whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher.

Website: www.lilacmills.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lilacmills

Facebook:  https://en-gb.facebook.com/LilacMills/

Purchase links

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0752XTPHB

Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0752XTPHB