Chapter Four: Under Some Shrubbery As Tradition Goes
“I have to admit,” Rose said, her arms full of tinsel and hay, “I didn’t expect to be doing this three days before end of term.”
John sneezed, dropping his own bundle of sparkly straw. He was assisting Donna set up for the annual Christmas Panto that night, and Rose had somehow been roped into it, too.
“Ooh, bless you,” she said, setting her armful down.
“Thanfs.” He wiped at his face and sneezed again. “I fink ahm ahleergic.”
Rose tried not to laugh. “Let’s get you away from this stuff. C'mon.”
They hurried to deposit the hay bundles onto the stage at the bottom of the small auditorium and escaped through a back door. It was, miracle of miracles, gently snowing outside - tiny little flakes that melted once they hit the ground. It certainly wouldn’t last, not by a long shot, but it did make everything look like a scene out of a Christmas card.
He reached for her hand and pulled her along the path through the school grounds behind the Drama building.