Page 2 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

‘I don’t mind at all, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jen.’ She spoke loudly enough for the man across the aisle to hear, but he didn’t respond. He was back to reading his book.

‘And what’s your cat called?’ Lottie asked. Michelle looked confused.

‘I haven’t decided. What do you think would be a good name?’

Lottie frowned, her expression serious as she reached out and gently stroked the hat. ‘I can’t tell yet. I might need to cuddle it.’ Her eyes took on a hopeful expression as she gazed at Jen.

‘Lottie, I don’t think—’ Michelle said, reaching across the table to her daughter, just as the baby burped and dribbled milky vomit down them both. Michelle sighed and started hunting in her bag for a muslin.

‘It’s OK,’ Jen said, smiling reassuringly at Michelle then turning to Lottie. ‘Here.’ She handed the hat to the little girl, who took it with as much care as if it was made of delicate glass, and hugged it to herself, resting her cheek against the fur, and Jen knew immediately that her hat had found a new home, one where it would be wholly loved.

‘Aww,’ Lottie said. ‘Aww. Cute little kitty.’

Michelle glanced from her daughter to Jen, looking perplexed.

‘Her’s called Mildred.’

‘Mildred?’ Jen couldn’t keep the astonishment out of her voice. She was expecting something more along the lines of Socks or Tigger. Her own childhood cat, a sweet little black thing, had been called Jet. An entirely appropriate name.

Michelle just smiled and shrugged, and Jen was pretty sure she caught sight of the guy across the aisle shaking in silent laughter from the corner of her eye. When she turned to look at him, he was studiously focused on reading.

‘I want a cat,’ Lottie said. ‘I’ve asked Mummy and asked and asked but her never lets me have one.’ Her mouth drooped and her eyes shone with tears, a picture of tragedy.

Michelle looked exasperated, and shook her head. ‘She’s literally never asked.’

Jen smiled.

‘Lottie, we’re getting off soon,’ Michelle said. ‘Give the nice lady her hat back, please.’

The little girl glowered at her mum, clutching the hat tighter to her. ‘But I love Mildred.’

Michelle glanced at Jen, flushing a little. ‘Darling,’ she said softly. ‘I know you love her, but she belongs to the nice lady. We’re nearly home, why don’t we . . . ?’

Jen watched as Lottie’s eyes filled with tears, her face turned red and scrunched up, and her lips wobbled. Her words were undecipherable because they were broken by sobs and gasps as tears poured down her face, but Jen caught enough to know that it was something about how Mildred was the best and cutest kitty in the world and how she would be lonely without Lottie.

Jen was perfectly happy for the little girl to take ownership of the hat – it wasn’t her favourite, and she liked the idea of it bringing so much joy to a child in the form of an imaginary cat. But she didn’t want to undermine Michelle by saying so. She felt for both mum and daughter.

‘Lottie,’ Michelle said. ‘I know that—’

At this point Lottie’s wails increased in volume, Max’s grizzling became full-on bawling, and Michelle began to look like she might join them as she tried to soothe both children. Book Guy slid further down his seat, hunching over the pages.

‘Oh,’ Jen said, raising her voice slightly over the cacophony. ‘What’s that?’ She pointed out of the window, where skeletal trees reached into clear blue skies.

Immediately, Lottie stopped crying and turned to see. Michelle threw Jen a grateful look as she managed to soothe the baby.

‘What’s that? In the sky?’ Jen asked.

Lottie pressed her face to the glass, completely absorbed now, the hat forgotten.

‘I thought I saw Father Christmas.’ She wasn’t a fan of getting excited for Christmas early – or at all, these days – but the situation called for desperate measures.

Lottie turned to her, laughing. ‘That’s silly! He’s not in the sky yet.’

‘Isn’t he? I thought he might be bringing my present.’

‘No. You have to wait and be patient, even though it’s difficult.’ Lottie was serious now, and Jen worked hard to stop her lips twitching into a smile; this was obviously what her parents had told her.

‘Oh no, do I?’