A Perfect Cornish Christmas. Phillipa Ashley

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you imagine Auntie Joan’s face, if she’d known we were spitting in her sitting room?’ Scarlett had asked.

      Ellie had laughed and held up the pot. ‘Maybe we should rename it the spitting room.’

      The results had taken about four weeks to arrive. The pots had gone off to TreeFynder.com and the results were posted online. They would reveal Scarlett and Ellie’s heritage and be linked to other people around the world who shared their DNA, if they were registered with the same company.

      It had taken everything for Scarlett not to look at the report, but it seemed like cheating if she knew the outcome ahead of everyone else, so she managed to restrain herself. She’d know everything in a few minutes, anyway.

      ‘Hey, you two.’ Her father, wearing a stripy apron, popped his head round the sitting room door. ‘Are you ready yet with this “big surprise”?’

      Anna followed him into the room. Their mother’s face was red from the heat of the kitchen. ‘The suspense is killing us, isn’t it, Roger?’ she said. ‘And as everything’s under control in the kitchen for a bit, can we get it over with?’

      Ellie nodded. ‘Yes. You can round up the troops, Dad, if you don’t mind.’

      He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s like herding cats, but I’ll do my best. What about the boys?’

      ‘Oh, you can leave them in the snug with their games,’ Scarlett said, aware that tearing the boys away from their Xboxes might be impossible anyway. ‘Thanks for coming all this way for Christmas.’

      ‘How could I miss it?’ He put his arm around her. ‘Especially with this big surprise you and Ellie have planned. You’ve been acting like a pair of kids for the past week. No idea what it is, though.’

      ‘All will be revealed any moment.’

      A few minutes later, Roger managed to get everyone – except the twins – gathered in the sitting room with a glass of fizz in their hands. Six pairs of eyes turned on Scarlett in expectation.

      Her parents were sharing the love seat, while Marcus and Heidi occupied the larger of the two sofas. Ellie was perched on the edge of the small sofa, a smile on her face. Only she knew what was coming. Now it came to the announcement, Scarlett had a momentary wobble. What if the gift was an anti-climax after all this build-up?

      ‘You’ve probably guessed that I’ve been up to something, and Ellie has been in on the surprise for a while. This present is especially for you, Mum, Dad and Marcus, but you’ll be interested too, Heidi.’

      Her parents exchanged glances.

      ‘You’ll love it, Dad,’ Scarlett said, mentally crossing her fingers. ‘You know how you’ve always said you must be a Viking?’

      ‘Er … Yes …’ Her dad looked a little confused. A quiet, thoughtful man with an engineer’s precise mind, he wasn’t given to effusive outbursts. However, Scarlett was convinced he’d be totally fascinated by all the data and details uncovered by the test.

      Marcus snorted. ‘What is this present? A custom-made helmet with horns?’

      Heidi sniggered. ‘Not planning on pillaging Porthmellow, are you?’

      Their mum frowned. ‘Am I the only one who’s confused?’

      ‘It’s not a helmet,’ said Scarlett. ‘It’s something even more exciting, and it’s for everyone. Now we’re going to find out if you really are a Viking, Dad. Ellie, are you set?’

      ‘Yup.’ Ellie held up her phone.

      Scarlett tapped her keyboard and a page from the TreeFynder website appeared on the telly, complete with its tree logo and banner announcing:

       Discover your roots with TreeFynder!

      She cringed at the cheesy copy on the ancestry website. Privately, she’d have loved to rewrite it all and get a new design done – as with most websites – but that was for another day.

      Marcus and her parents sat back, intent on the TV screen. Heidi crossed her legs and smiled. ‘Gosh, the suspense is killing me.’

      ‘All will become clear,’ Scarlett said dramatically, ignoring Heidi’s sarcasm but slightly disappointed by the baffled expressions of the rest of the family.

      She logged on and the screen flashed up a message:

       Congrats! Here is your Latham family tree!

      ‘A couple of months ago, Ellie and I decided to have our DNA tested, so we could find out our genetic roots, and we really will know if Dad’s a Viking.’

      Marcus let out a whistle. ‘Now this is interesting. I’ve always wanted to do this.’

      Re-sult, thought Scarlett in triumph. ‘Right. Deep breath, because neither Ellie nor I have looked at the results. We thought it would be more of a surprise for everyone that way.’

      ‘It’s been so hard not to check out the site,’ Ellie said.

      ‘Without further ado, now we find out who our ancestors were. Ta da!’ Scarlett declared and tapped her mouse pad. At the same time, Ellie clicked on her own results on her phone.

      The silence could only have lasted a second or two, but it seemed far longer to Scarlett, already wound up to fever pitch after keeping the secret for so long.

      Her mother spoke first. ‘Um. This is very exciting, I’m sure, but what does it all mean?’

      Scarlett had spent so long on the TreeFynder site, learning how to interpret the potential results of the ancestry test, that she’d forgotten the figures and tables on the screen would mean nothing to anyone but her and Ellie. The actual findings were a complete surprise to her too, but she knew what they might mean in principle.

      ‘Well, both Ellie and I have had our DNA tested, which of course tells us about the rest of our relations and ancestors – and yours.’

      ‘Ah, I see.’ Marcus leaned forward.

      ‘How fascinating,’ Heidi muttered, picking up a magazine.

      ‘Obviously it doesn’t cover Heidi, but it will show the boys’ heritage too,’ Scarlett said, hoping to win Heidi over.

      Heidi let the magazine rest in her lap, her attention caught at last.

      ‘Yes, can you please explain this to those of us still stuck in the Stone Age,’ her father said.

      ‘OK. Well, Ellie and I sent off a sample of our DNA to this ancestry site and these are the results of their analysis. This chart shows the areas of the world and types of people who are our ancestors. It says that I’m 60 per cent Iberian, 20 per cent Irish and 20 per cent other ethnicity. So – no Viking …’

      Ellie held up her phone. ‘I am! Mine says I’m 70

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