Page 4 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

He stroked his chin. ‘Yeah, growing this has been the mane event recently.’ He paused, grinning. ‘Mane event. Get it?’

They all groaned, laughing. ‘Still going with the dad jokes, then?’ Jen said.

‘Ignore him; at least now the birthday girl’s here the party can properly start,’ Lou said.

Jen pulled a face. She wasn’t that keen on celebrating her birthday, truthfully. Who needed a reminder that youth was slipping away? The whole of December could disappear, as far as she was concerned. She would happily spend the whole month curled under a duvet or, better yet, lying on a beach in a hot country drinking cocktails. Still, she had to admit that she’d been looking forward to seeing her friends, and the house did look gorgeously cosy in the photos on the group chat.

Lou threw an arm around her as they walked through the pretty waiting room with its wooden slats and gleaming parquet floor.

‘You know we never let you get away with ignoring it, no matter how hard you try,’ she said. She looked a little pale, exhaustion shadowing her eyes. Twin toddlers would do that to you, Jen supposed.

‘Lead the way!’ Jen said, expecting a car to be waiting to take them to the house, but the group simply turned right out of the station and headed up the street.

At least she didn’t have to walk right past Julia’s house, which sat in the row of cottages on the other side of the station. She couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder, but it was hidden from view.

They were soon at the Airbnb, a gorgeous converted barn with a view of seemingly endless fields. Christmas lights were strung across the porch and hung from the eaves, a tasteful wreath hung on the door, and through the window she could see a huge tree twinkling with warm white lights and silver decorations.

‘Bit much,’ Jen muttered. ‘My God, we really are in Babblebrook.’

‘I told you we were,’ Ted said.

‘Well, I know, but I thought we were going to be on the outskirts, not right in the village.’

He laughed. ‘Outskirts? Babblebrook doesn’t have outskirts, it’s basically a street!’

He sounded so cheerful about it. Jen tried not to be grumpy; they’d organised the weekend for her birthday, at least in part, and it would be churlish to complain about the location. She’d just have to make sure they stayed away from the village itself; surely they’d be cosying up in this gorgeous house most of the time anyway, or maybe out in the local town, Waterfield, where Ted lived. She wouldn’t be in danger of bumping into Julia.

‘I hope you’ve saved me some of that mulled wine, at least,’ she said, trying to sound upbeat. She dumped her bag in the hall and followed them into the cosy living room, where festive garlands draped over the mantelpiece, framing the roaring fire in the log burner. A pleasant smell of pine, woodsmoke and spices filled the room.

‘Of course we did,’ Lou said. ‘I’ll get some now.’

They all trooped into the kitchen, where the pan sat warming on a gleaming Aga. Jen grabbed Lou’s arm. ‘Oh God,’ she groaned. ‘I have to tell you about this gorgeous guy I met on the train.’

Rich laughed. ‘Oh, here we go! How did the rest of us end up married with kids and you’re still young, free and single?’

Ted’s dark eyes flickered to Jen, and then to the hob, where he focused carefully on ladling wine into glasses. ‘I’m not married with kids,’ he said softly.

‘Might as well be, you’ve been with Sarah for ages now,’ Lou said, taking the wine he handed her and sipping. ‘So tell me about this guy – boring mum here needs some vicarious excitement!’

Jen knew that Lou was actually besotted with her children and wouldn’t change a single thing about her life. But she needed no encouragement to talk about the mysterious stranger she’d met on the train.

‘Oh my God, he was so handsome, he had this brooding sort of look, like an artist or something, he—’

‘An artist? Doesn’t sound like a very reliable prospect,’ Rich said, as they all took their steaming glasses to the living room and settled themselves around the glass-topped coffee table, sitting on the thick rug.

‘It’s romantic,’ Jen said. And who could tell whether a person would be reliable, anyway? She still marvelled that her friends had all apparently managed to find partners who’d stayed true to them. She’d never had that kind of luck; she just wasn’t that kind of girl.

Lou smacked Rich’s arm. ‘Shut up, I want to hear about it.’

‘He had that dark hair and blue eyes thing going on and cheekbones to die for!’

‘Sounds really dishy,’ Lou said, chin on hand, her eyes taking on a dreamy expression.

‘Oh yeah, nothing recommends a man better than brown hair and blue eyes,’ Rich said, a teasing tone to his voice as he shook his own blond head.

‘No, but this is the best part – he was reading Far From the Madding Crowd.’

Jen waited, glancing around at them all as though this explained everything. Lou and Rich looked perplexed.