After their night of cathartic sex, Miranda and Andy spent a very quiet Christmas Eve, loving and nurturing each other in the warmth and peace of the town-house. It was insulated by a thick blanket of snow which had started to fall, and had continued throughout the night.

For breakfast, Andy made the thick oatmeal porridge she had learned from her Scottish grandmother on her Dad's side, prinking it up with maple syrup and some of the heavy cream left from her eggnog recipe, and Miranda didn't make any derogatory comments about it being too fattening. She just ate it with huge enjoyment, licking her lips and scraping out the bowl like the twins.

"What would you like to do today, sweetheart?" she asked, watching as Andrea poured her out a second cup of coffee.

"I don't want to play in the snow," laughed Andy. "It looks like there'll be plenty of that to do when the girls come home."

"If they come home," Miranda said, looking out of the kitchen window. "Geoff's parents are very elderly. I wouldn't want them to try driving if the snow is still this bad tomorrow. We may be facing Christmas all on our own."

"However it turns out, it will be wonderful. We can sit and read, like they do in Iceland, where everyone exchanges books at Christmas.

"Or, how about this Miri, I had an idea to take you up to the piano room and give you a starter lesson on the instrument up there. There's no logical reason why you shouldn't be able to play it yourself. You'd enjoy it, especially if you can accompany yourself. You have such a lovely voice."

"But I've never learned. I can't read a note."

"Defeatist talk. You're more musical than I am, and I think your ear is probably as good as Caroline's. Come on, after breakfast let's go and see how you get on. It's a beautiful piano you've bought for them, and it's a shame to waste it. You only need to be able to remember the letters A to G"

"I had thought of having it lifted from the top floor and brought downstairs into the living room. Then we could all play it more."

"Good idea!"

Miranda called Geoff and the girls, and discovered it was true; they were snow-bound up near Boston. She insisted they only tried to travel back to New York once the roads were totally safe. She then had a longer conversation with her Ex., once the twins were off the line.

"The weather forecast doesn't indicate a quick thaw. Please don't risk it. Give Cassidy her telescope this evening. Then she can look out for Santa's reindeer as they fly over Boston."

"But what about you and Andy?"

"We will be absolutely fine. I shall feel a million times better knowing your parents and the girls are safe with you. There are twelve days of Christmas, after all!"

"Ok, girl. If you're sure."

"Geoff, remember last Christmas. They hardly saw you at all. Make the most of this year, and enjoy it. How's being on the wagon going? How's Cindy?"

"Still sober. Three days now! And Cindy is cautiously optimistic she might still love me in April. She's talking about an Easter wedding."

"Great. But she'll be very pregnant."

"I know. She fell completely in love with you by the way. It isn't fair. I'm sure she prefers you to me."

"She's a very sweet kid. She reminds me of my younger self though, but less screwed up."

"Were you screwed up? I just used to think you were naturally gifted at bitchiness."

"No, Geoff, believe me, I was seriously screwed up. Andy and her mother have done wonders to help me, but it is still a work in progress. I will tell you the whole story sometime. It wasn't your fault, so much that went wrong in our marriage."

"Well, I'm no saint. Let's just call it water under the bridge. Anyway, enjoy your Christmas with Andy. What are you getting her, by the way?"

Miranda made sure she was out of ear-shot, then told him, and he smiled.

"She'll like that."

"I know."

Later in the morning, Andrea gave Miranda a short music theory lesson, and then sat her at the piano keyboard and explained chords and how they worked together, using the little 'tonic sol-fa' song from the sound of music as a starter.

By the end of the hour, they hadn't quite progressed to diminished 6ths, but Miranda had a much clearer idea of how music worked, and why she found traditional jazz so satisfying. She felt ridiculously pleased with herself when she could feel the chords as an accompaniment to her favorite song by Stevie Wonder, "You are the sunshine of my life."

"There you go. I knew you had a fantastic ear. Just go for it. Do you know, Paul McCartney can't read music? Many of the greats can't."

Miranda smiled. This was another of her childhood dreams coming alive. She happily tinkered away on the keyboard for the rest of the morning, while Andy went back to writing her novel, and Pumpkin stared out at the white world around them.

In the evening of Christmas Eve, Andy gave Miranda her present while they sat by the fire in the living room. It was a moderately heavy square parcel, wrapped in elegant gold and silver Christmas paper, with very frothy ribbons. Hannah had helped her prink it up. She watched as Miranda weighed it speculatively in her hands.

"I'm guessing . . . a book?"

"Getting warmer."

"Knowing you and knowing me, it's most likely to be "How to win friends and influence people."

"No! I don't think you'll guess it that easily. I hope not!"

Well, pass me a pair of scissors. I don't want to spoil these beautiful ribbons."

Miranda slowly unwrapped the parcel, and then revealed the book Andrea had found for her. She just stared at it and her eyes filled with tears. Andy was aghast.

"Darling!"

"No, no! Don't worry. It's the most perfect present in the whole world. You remembered . . . How did you find it?"

"The wonders of the internet. It's a first edition."

"I can see that. With the original illustrations. Oh sweetie, it's wonderful. Thank you so, so much."

Miranda had cradled in her hands "A Little Princess" by Frances Hodgson Burnett. It was the book she'd been given by a teacher when she was ten and which her step-father had thrown into the fire. ** Losing the one possession of her own she cherished had been the catalyst for her flying at him, being beaten so badly she could hardly stand, and finally being rescued from the hell of her childhood.

This lovely volume would take pride of place in her book collection. She wondered now why she had never sought a first edition of it before, but knew the scars had just been too painful.

She thanked Andrea again, and felt around for a tissue to dry her eyes, and repair her mascara.

Andy lightened the mood with chuckling.

"Honestly, darling. Only you could put mascara on when it's a day of staying at home, with only me and Pumps to admire you. Margot asked me if you put on lipstick to throw out the trash, and I had to be honest and admit, that, yes, you did!"

"Don't make fun," sniffed Miranda. She felt too emotional to be teased.

"All right. Now let's turn on the TV to watch the Carol Service from Kings College. It's on in a moment."

"Don't you want to know what I'm giving you for Christmas?"

Andy laughed and made herself comfortable on the sofa.

"I'm not sure. I'd rather not, especially if it's another spanking like last night."

Miranda dropped her eyes. "No, my wrath is completely dissipated. And I think you punished me sufficiently for it."

"I did. So come and sit by me and tell me more about your mystery present. Let's play Twenty Questions."

Miranda cuddled up to her, and put her head on Andy's shoulder while they watched the carols and listened to the beautiful singing. Every now and then Andy would ask her another question.

"Could I eat it?"

"No."

"Could I wear it?"

"No."

By a miracle, Miranda managed to deflect the questions.

"Well, give me a clue."

"It's something you will have to choose for yourself."

"So you haven't even bought it yet?"

"Not exactly."

"So when will I see it?"

"Perhaps tomorrow, if we can get the car out of the garage."

"Hmm. So tomorrow morning I had better start shovelling snow from in front of the garage. It's two feet deep at the moment."

"Let's see. When you've chosen your present, we won't be able to bring it home yet anyway."

"Why?"

"Not telling. You have to guess. I've given you enough clues."

"It's a plant! You know I like those orchids they have up in the garden centre."

"No, it's not a plant."

Andy veered off in entirely the wrong direction.

"Then it's a new computer. Thank you darling. With a wide screen for editing text. And we need to book a technician to set it up properly."

Miranda said nothing but managed to look as though Andy had guessed correctly.

"That's enough for now. Watch those little choirboys. I like their very crisp stiff collars. One day I will take you to England and we can visit Kings College in Cambridge. The architecture is astounding. It was built in the early 1500s."

The spirit of Christmas settled over them with the old carols, and Andrea stopped guessing. A new desk-top computer would certainly be useful.

On Christmas Day, the snow-storm had blown through, the sky was a hard blue shell with bright sunshine. After they'd had some delightful Facetime with the twins, and with Andy's family in Ohio, Andy, feeling in need of some vigorous exercise, put on her boots and thick gloves and carried the snow shovel outside to clear the front steps and the steep drive down into their garage.

It took two hours of hard work and much sprinkling of salt, but she cleared the steps, the sidewalk in front of their house and the garage entrance. Sufficient numbers of vehicles had come up and down the street to damp down the snow in the middle of the road, and she thought they might get one of Miranda's cars out if they were careful.

Miranda had fixed tomato soup and turkey sandwiches for lunch, and Andy was ready for it. Afterwards she said, "Let's go out. We can take the Porsche. It has better torque."

"Torque eh? You're getting rather knowledgeable about such matters. Don't you think it would be more sensible to wait until Roy could come for us?"

"We can't get Roy to come all the way in from where he lives, not over the holidays. Let's go, wherever you want us to go. Where is it, by the way?"

"Oh, not too far. I'll drive."

They both wrapped up warmly, and Andy noticed Miranda had not bothered with mascara after all. With a certain amount of revving, Miranda made it safely out of the garage, and then followed the line of other vehicles up the salted street. Too many wealthy people lived in her area not to have the streets properly cleared.

She drove them the eight blocks or so, to the house the twins had taken her a few days before, and where she had called ahead to find out if it was convenient to come, (on Christmas Day after all.) Andy was very surprised to see it was a private home, not a retail outlet of some sort. She vaguely recognised the woman who opened the door, from the Dalton school gates.

"Come through, we're expecting you. There are four still not spoken for, but still only six weeks old of course. They can't leave their mother yet, for another fourteen days."

Andrea looked at Miranda, her eyes like saucers.

"?"

"Come and see, darling. The twins brought me to visit them before Christmas."

In a warm back utility area, a small Bichon Frise bitch lay contentedly in her basket with seven balls of white fluff guzzling happily from her milk.

"What do you think? The other end of the scale from Patricia, but I was rather taken, I admit."

Andrea knelt down and watched intently as the puppies one by one disengaged themselves from their Mom and started to play about the basket. They were very small, but already individual character traits were beginning to show. One immediately headed for the edge of the basket and tried to escape, while another went off by itself and fell fast asleep.

She inspected them all, three boys and four girls.

"So which ones are still for sale?"

"The ones without a dab of colour on their necks. It's hard to tell them apart otherwise," said the owner, apologetically. She took out the available puppies and let them run about on the newspaper across the floor.

Andrea liked the larger of the two remaining bitches. It sat and stared at her, and for some reason reminded her of Miranda, defiant and self-assured, but also very curious. It began to play and then came forward to lick her finger, and then began to climb up her hand.

"She's adorable. I'd like this one please."

"If you're sure."

"Yes, darling. It's the most wonderful present. I love her. We can all go dog-walking again, and the twins will adore her."

"Do you think Pumpkin will accept her?""

"Oh, he's young. He'll adjust. I expect they'll be best mates before we know it."

There was then the expected discussion about pedigrees, where the puppies' father had come from, and all the details about inoculations and worming. Miranda dealt with all of that, while Andrea sat on the floor and played with the puppies.

She thought through the practicalities. The twins would love the little dog and she guessed it was they who had suggested a puppy as a present. Even if it needed frequent trips to the groomer to keep its coat immaculate, she knew her choice would be a spirited, intelligent little animal.

Frankly, a Bichon Frise pup would be more suited to New York life than Miranda's previously lovable but incredibly messy St Bernard. This dog, even when fully grown, would also be small enough to travel easily by car, train or even plane, so they could take her with them whenever they went to Cape Cod or Ohio.

"We'll come back on January 10th collect her," she said, as the breeder finally showed them out.

Miranda laughed as they reached the car.

"You never guessed, not even a clue?"

"No! Though I admit I have wanted a puppy ever since I moved in with you. I thought the redecoration project would block any chance however."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be no trouble. She won't shed fur anyway. Now, let's go out for dinner somewhere."

"On Christmas Day?"

"Yes, there will be plenty of Jewish or Islamic restaurants open. I'm going to fatten you up, my love. How about a nice juicy steak?"

"With fries?"

"Why not!"

And the two of them drove happily off through the city's festive twilight. They were as happy as two women in New York could be. Miranda headed for one of her favorite restaurants.

So Andrea had expected the present might be a new desk-top computer had she? Well, that was something Miranda could easily organise. She looked sideways at her elf-like companion, and just absorbed her beauty. Nigel had been right. It was time to start seriously planning their wedding. Andrea would look beautiful in white . . .

The End.

** Explained in "The Making of Miranda.".