‘The one in a lip lock with the young gentleman?’
‘That’s the one,’ Daisy grinned, both herand Fern laughing at her sister’s blatant public display of affection, which was so unlike her.
‘A Christmas romance is always special,’ Anton approved. ‘Now I must go. Thank you for the tea, Daisy.’
‘It was my absolute, absolute pleasure,’ she answered, puzzling Fern.
When he was gone, Ginny came into the shop and the waft of gingerbread held them captive until Fern spied the quilt laid outon the counter. Her face fell, Ginny’s too. They were both staring at it, mesmerised, silence.
Fern covered her mouth and began to cry.
Ginny put an arm around Daisy and an arm around Fern as they all looked at the quilt, its blocks of fabric, decades old and still as strong as the memories that came with it, and Daisy finally managed to say, ‘It’s a long story.’
