Page 16 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

Amy did a double-take as she looked at her mum, clearly shocked at such a lax attitude to extra treats, but wise enough not to question it. The first flakes of snow began to fall as they disappeared into the crowd.

Well, Jen thought, that had been everything she’d dreaded. Happy birthday to her. At least she’d got to see the children.

Silently, Lou stroked her arm in an expression of sympathy. She wasn’t one to judge. Jen noticed Ted standing nearby. He’d clearly seen the whole thing, and was now staring at her with a disappointed expression, shaking his head.

‘Oh, don’t look at me like that,’ she snapped. ‘This is all your bloody fault anyway for bringing us to Babblebrook. Can we please get out of here and have a drink? Where’s the nearest bar?’

‘Well, Waterfield, I suppose, but I thought we were going to go back to the house and . . .’

‘Right.’ Jen was already booking an Uber.

The place was exactly what she wanted: loud, dark and busy. It was still happy hour, and the cocktails and shots were buy-one-get-one-free. Jen elbowed her way to the bar.

The others trailed behind her, distinctly less enthusiastic. Rich and Ted wore what they’d been wearing all day, Lou had stayed in her jeans but swapped her top for a dressier one and added a swipe of eyeliner. She looked horrified as a hopeful young man peeled away from his friends to approach her, glaring at him and pointedly waving around her wedding ring until he hastily rejoined them.

‘Let me get you a birthday drink,’ Ted said.

‘You might as well get me two, the second is free anyway. And it is kind of your fault I need one.’ She grinned, and he looked a little sheepish.

‘Suppose I deserve that,’ he bellowed over the music. ‘I should’ve known bringing you to Babblebrook wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.’

‘That’s OK. I’ll forgive you once I’ve had my second cocktail.’ She heaved herself onto a bar stool, and he took the one next to her.

He ordered, the barmaid batting her eyelashes and serving him before other customers who’d been waiting longer. He was oblivious to the effect he was having on her, and Jen rolled her eyes as he told her to get one for herself when he’d finished ordering the round.

‘What?’ he asked, as he called the others over to come and collect their drinks.

‘You haven’t got a clue, have you? Haven’t changed since college.’

He frowned, looking confused, as he handed a pint to Rich and a white wine to Lou. Reluctantly, the barmaid moved on to her next customer, trying once more to catch Ted’s eye. He didn’t notice.

In the past, Jen would have told him, and acted as his wingwoman, talking him up to the girl who was flirting with him. They’d done this for each other, back in the day, and she had fond memories of those nights spent with him. Often, the flirtation with the other person didn’t come to anything, but that never seemed to matter. Her memories now, as she looked back on those nights, were of Ted, not the hazy recollection of whichever stranger she’d been interested in at the time.

But this wasn’t going to be one of those nights. Ted was apparently happily coupled up, he would have no interest in flirting with the barmaid. And Jen knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t want to raise the girl’s hopes for nothing.

The cocktails soon disappeared, and were swiftly replaced; it was her birthday, after all, and her friends were spoiling her. Waterfield was a small town, really, but the bar was busy on a Saturday night, the music loud and the crowds enjoying letting off steam.

This was exactly what Jen needed. Her friends didn’t seem to be quite as up for it – Lou and Rich had given up trying to keep a four-way conversation going against the noise. They were now huddled just behind Jen and Ted, comparing pictures of their respective families and talking, from what Jen could hear of their conversation, about catchment areas.

Still, Jen was relaxed. She was buzzing with the cocktails and this was exactly the kind of distraction she wanted – the warm fug of bodies squeezed in together on a Saturday night, the smell of alcohol, aftershave and perfume, the beat of music reverberating through the floor.

Arctic Monkeys’ ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ came over the speakers. They’d danced to this many a time back in the day, and Ted caught her eye as she swayed in her seat, lifting her arms above her head and singing along.

‘Brings back memories,’ he bellowed, grinning.

‘You remember that club we always went to on a Friday night?’

‘Of course. And the chippy on the way back, still open at three in the morning!’

Jen laughed. There had been so many nights that they had all crammed into the little chip shop, the windows steamed up, ordering deep-fried deliciousness to soak up the drinks. ‘Remember when you and Rich climbed that tree to rescue a cat on the way back?’

He grinned, flexing the wrist he’d broken when he fell out. ‘How could I forget?’

Jen snorted, almost choking on her last gulp of drink. ‘That cat didn’t even need rescuing, it was fine!’

He shook his head emphatically, raising a finger. ‘No, I still maintain it was in trouble. Poor little thing was meowing for help.’

She batted his finger away. ‘Don’t get all deputy head on me!’ she said, laughing. ‘And that “poor little thing” needed no help at all, it jumped down perfectly well as soon as it saw you two great big idiots getting near it.’