tion id="uc8d7cad8-1aec-50b6-b401-dfcb7d0ca7b8">
MY CHRISTMAS WISH
Julia Williams
Published by Avon
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
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
Copyright
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,
