A star is born

JUST two weeks to go before Christmas. With the fire glowing and a few coloured fairy lights, the dining-room was looking especially cosy.

I smiled across the table at my nine-year-old daughter, Maisie.

“What did you do at school today?” I asked her.

Maisie took a mouthful of shepherd’s pie with a thoughtful expression.

“We made Christmas cards,” she answered.

“That’s nice.”

“And we had a spelling test.”

“Very good. Did you get them all right?”

Maisie ignored my question.

“Jessica Brown’s going to be Mary in the nativity play,” she added instead.

I took a breath. So Jessica had won the coveted part.

I watched Maisie making patterns with the peas on her plate.

“Wasn’t she the Queen of the Easter fairies when you did the spring show?” I questioned.

Maisie nodded.

“That doesn’t sound particularly fair,” I murmured, trying not to sound as rattled as I felt.

“There are loads of parts, Mummy,” Maisie said, as if she could read my mind. “Miss Hedges says she needs lots of angels, and they’ve got lovely long white dresses to wear and tinsel haloes.”

I relaxed, loading my fork with shepherd’s pie.

“Ah, you’ll make a beautiful angel, darling.”

“All the girls’ names were put into a big hat and six names were picked out,” Maisie stated.

“Good idea – very fair.”

“My name didn’t get picked, though.”

“Oh.” I took a sip of water. I needed a moment.

Fair for those that got chosen, anyway!

“Tinsel can get very itchy, of course.” I tried to look on the positive side. “I bet your head would get all uncomfortable. Not the best part really.”

“Well, the shepherds are wearing tea towels on their heads!” Maisie giggled.

“You’re not a shepherd, are you, darling?”

I tried to make it sound like an innocent question.

Honestly, I couldn’t imagine Maisie dressed in a drab smock with a striped tea towel on her head.

She was far more suited as an angel. Surely Miss Hedges could see that.

Maisie shook her head.

“Has she chosen the wise men?” I asked hopefully.

“I told you, Miss Hedges has given out all the parts.”

“So you’re not a king?”

“Nearly.”

“How can you nearly be a king?”

“Nathan was sitting next to me and he got picked. So it was nearly me.” Maisie shrugged.

I looke