Gifts

Twelve people. Twelve gifts. One Christmas to remember. A novel in stories about how wonderful and sad and difficult and happy and strange Christmas can be. Stories to inspire, move and comfort. 'Warm and uplifting storytelling: a delightful treat' Clare Chambers, author of Small Pleasures 'If you're not in the Yuletide mood yet, you will be after this' Telegraph 'An ode to the strange and wonderful time that is Christmas' Stylist 'A novel that's sure to warm the heart of any Scrooge' Radio Times 'Tender and moving, Gifts is infused with Christmas magic - that bittersweet mix of joy, yearning, sadness and hope that accompanies the festive season' Daily Mirror 'A gorgeous festive tale... Beautifully written and highly emotionally intelligent' Daily Mail 'I loved The Versions Of Us by Laura Barnett and her new novel is just as wonderful... The ideal warm, bittersweet read to get you in the festive spirit' Good Housekeeping 'Full of warmth, poignancy and a huge dose of Christmas spirit' Red Twelve people Twelve gifts One Christmas to remember Maddy runs the bookshop on Market Square. She's struggling to choose a gift (a watch? a wine subscription? a weekend bag? all too much?) for her old school friend Peter, who's just moved back from London following a messy divorce. Peter doesn't have a clue what to get for his teenage daughter Chloe - furious with her mother, she's decided to up sticks and move to Kent with him, but he worries that he really doesn't know her at all. Chloe wants to buy something special for her grandmother Irene, who lives alone on the other side of town. Irene doesn't get out much these days, but she'd really like to find the right gift for Alina, who's so much more than a carer, really - always stops to chat for a bit, have a cup of tea, even if it makes her late. And Alina, meanwhile, has her eye on something for... From the no. 1 bestselling author of The Versions of Us comes a novel about how wonderful and sad and difficult and happy and strange Christmas can be. Stories to inspire, move and comfort. 'He felt it: the lightness, the expansiveness, the anticipation, the sense that something good was coming. And it was, wasn't it - though the world was still licking its collective wounds and there was still suffering everywhere, suffering and loneliness and sadness. Despite all this, it was good: it was kindness, it was giving without thought of recompense, it was light in the darkness'