My Christmas Wish

Published by Avon

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2015

Copyright © Julia Williams 2015

Julia Williams asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © December 2015 ISBN: 9780008173258

Version: 2015-12-02

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Joe’s Wish

Christmas, last year

Winter, this year

Spring, this year

Summer, this year

Autumn, this year

Winter, this year

Read on for an extract from Make a Christmas Wish!

Keep Reading – Make a Christmas Wish

Keep Reading – Granny’s Christmas Wish

Keep Reading – Dad’s Christmas Wish

About the Author

About the Publisher

My mum died. This is bad. My dad is sad. My granny is sad.

I think I must be sad.

Sometimes my eyes leak water and I don’t know why.

The world has gone dark now, when it felt full of light.

It is Christmas and Mum has gone. People shouldn’t die at Christmas. That’s wrong.

My counsellor says I should talk about it. But who to? And what would I say?

So I’ve decided to write to you, Mum. I know you’ll understand.

Dear Mum,

You died yesterday. There was an accident and you died.

I went to the hospital with Dad. I kissed you and said goodbye. But I don’t know where you have gone.

Now our house is full of people. They are all talking in low voices. Everyone is sad.

Granny is here, making tea. No one drinks it, but she makes more.

I don’t know why she is making tea. Hot chocolate is better.

I don’t like all the people. They make me feel hot and flustered. They keep asking how I am. I don’t know how I am.

So I go into the loft and hide until they’ve gone. I feel safe there.

And when it’s dark I look through my telescope and wish you were here.

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

Dad says I need a suit for the funeral.

I didn’t like the suits I tried on. They are itchy and scratchy and don’t feel right.

Dad seems to think it’s important.

I think you won’t care.

Dad got cross when I told him.

So I am wearing an itchy suit for the funeral.

I don’t want Dad to be cross.

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

Today was your funeral.

Dad, Granny and I followed your coffin into the church.

There were a lot flowers on top of it.

Six men carried you into the church. They must be very strong.

I couldn’t picture you in the coffin. I remember seeing your body at the hospital. You looked like you were asleep. But I couldn’t see you asleep in your coffin. Were you really there?

There were too many people in church. It made me agitated. I wish you could have been there to help me calm down.

Granny helped me instead. So that was good.

Dad cried.

Then Granny cried.

I didn’t know what to do.

So I cried too.

I think that’s what you do at funerals.

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

It feels like a long time since I have seen you. Though it is only two weeks.

Granny came for Christmas. It was sad. We all missed you. Christmas shouldn’t be sad should it?

Nothing feels right now you are gone. I wonder if Christmas will ever feel right again?

I try to picture you. But you are not here. Where have you gone?

Where does anyone go when they die?

Logically I know you are in the ground. I have put flowers on your grave. Your bones will rot and crumble away. One day there will be nothing left.

But if there is nothing left, why do I remember you?

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

I looked at Venus tonight through my telescope. The one you gave me for my last birthday.

Do you remember telling me that Grandad was a star when he died?

Maybe you are too.

If you are a star, I think you must be Venus because it is the evening and the morning star. And you used to get me up in the morning and put me to bed at night when I was little.

It is a long time since you tucked me into bed. But I wish you were still here to do it.

Now it’s just Dad and me. And nothing is the same.

When I look at Venus I will think of you.

And I will remember you always.

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

It is January now.

The weather is cold.

The house feels cold too, because you are not there.

How does that work? It isn’t logical.

But you were here and the house felt warm. And now it doesn’t.

Your son