Page 28 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

And she very much wanted to reply to him, and to arrange to see him again.

Sometimes, when she watched those black-and-white films, she let herself fall for everything they promised. She’d told Ted she might be ready to put herself out there again. But the reality of doing it was scarier than she’d thought.

Because the films promised a lie. As she knew all too well from her own experience, and though she still loved the glamour and drama of them, she no longer believed in their happy endings. Her gaze slid now to Dan, his elbow on the table as he rested his chin in his hand and yawned loudly, without bothering to cover his mouth. Here was a case in point. What a disappointment he must be to Julia, who no doubt thought she’d found her great romance, and had ended up with a man who considered Barry Manilow ‘quite cool, actually’.

She looked at her sister, her auburn curls gleaming and her eyes warm as she smiled a little nervously at Jen. She deserved better.

‘Right,’ Julia said, glancing at the clock on the wall. ‘Let’s get that face wiped, poppet, and your boots on. Time for school.’

Amy, perhaps thinking of Father Christmas’s ever-watchful presence, obediently slid from her chair and trotted off.

Jen looked out of the window. Snow was falling thick and fast. ‘Will the school be open?’ she asked doubtfully. Happy childhood memories of when the school had been closed due to heavy snow filled her mind; they had built snowmen and igloos and then come home to thaw out with a hot chocolate. But Julia was nodding.

‘Oh, yes. Most of the staff are pretty local and they’re all very dedicated, and all the kids live in the village so, normal service.’

Julia’s words gave Jen a surge of hope, and she checked the train app on her phone. Everything still cancelled. She was stuck here for the foreseeable. At least that gave her the chance to see Anthony. If she could somehow make her way out of this godforsaken village.

‘No trains?’ Dan asked.

She shook her head. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but she knew he was disappointed that they were lumbered with her for another day at least.

The feeling was mutual. She just wasn’t quite ungracious enough to say it.

Amy appeared in the doorway, her face damp and pink, although there was still a small crust of milk around her mouth. She had pulled on a bobble hat, a little wonkily, and a duffle coat which had the buttons done up skew-whiff.

‘I need help with my boots,’ she announced, looking expectantly around at the adults.

Jen put down her coffee. ‘Show me where they are.’

They soon had Amy in her boots and with her coat and hat straightened out. ‘I’ll come with you,’ Jen said, racing up the stairs to pull on her jeans and jumper.

The air outside was crisp and cold, the sun bright and the sky a dazzling blue, now the snow had stopped falling. The chill stung Jen’s cheeks and lips, and she was glad of the woolly hat and gloves Julia had lent her. Snow crunched under their feet as they joined the small throng of parents and children walking up the village street to the school. Dan was working from home, due to the weather, and so George had stayed in the warmth with him.

Jen had always considered Babblebrook boring, and though she herself was immune to its quaint prettiness and longed to be back in the buzz of city life, she could see why others were charmed by its beauty.

The village green sat on their left, The Plough on the other side of it, and Jen couldn’t help but admire the smooth snow-covered grass, broken only by a few bird footprints. At the pond, the ducks were gathered around a couple. Jen recognised the man she had seen selling his wooden crafts at the Christmas market and Marnie from the café as they threw chunks of bread for them, two small dogs sitting patiently at their feet.

The cottages they passed on the other side of the road snuggled behind gardens, smoke rising gently from chimneys and filling the air with a woody tang. Jen did her best to ignore the festive lights that glinted on porches and through windows.

Amy, with one hand in Jen’s and one in Julia’s, cried, ‘Swing me!’ They did, and she squealed with laughter as they lifted her higher and higher, until the crowds around the school gate were too big.

‘Last one, poppet,’ Julia said, and they gave her an extra-big swing. Jen couldn’t help catching Julia’s eye and smiling as they basked in the sheer joy of the little girl they both loved.

‘Train Lady!’ a voice squealed, and Lottie appeared, running over to them. ‘Amy, this is my Train Lady,’ she said.

Amy frowned. ‘No, it’s not,’ she said belligerently, folding her arms. ‘It’s my Auntie Jen.’

Julia and Michelle tried to explain that Jen was in fact both Train Lady and Auntie, but the girls refused to concede, running into school still squabbling about it, having ignored the cuddles and kisses from their respective mums.

Michelle rolled her eyes. ‘Marnie’s?’ she asked.

‘Good idea.’ Julia turned to Jen. ‘Fancy joining us at the café?’ she asked, that mix of hope and fear fighting in her eyes again, the one that made Jen’s stomach squirm.

But Jen shook her head. She’d spotted Ted, in a suit and smart wool coat, smiling as he ushered the stream of children through the gates. And so she made a beeline for him, ignoring the deflated slump of Julia’s shoulders, and the questioning look Michelle gave them.

Chapter Thirteen

‘Take me with you,’ she hissed, grabbing Ted by the tailored sleeve and dragging him aside.