Page 40 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

‘You’re not fine,’ she said, gently taking her by the shoulders and easing her out of the chair. ‘You’re disgusting, frankly, and you should be away from all human contact for a day or two at least.’ She took in Julia’s pale, clammy complexion and red nose. ‘Probably longer.’

‘It’s fine,’ Julia said. ‘I need to look after the kids anyway, Dan’s away and . . .’

‘And the kids have their auntie here. So you don’t need to worry about that.’

Julia blinked. ‘But – but you’re going back to . . .’

‘I can stay a bit longer.’

They stood for a moment, each looking into the other’s brown eyes, Julia’s full of wary hope. And even Jen couldn’t hold on to anger and distance, couldn’t cling on to the bitterness that kept her sister at arm’s length, when faced with the prospect of Julia ill and alone, trying to take care of her children.

‘I – thank you,’ Julia said. ‘If – I could always call Mum. If you need to get back.’

Jen sighed and began steering Julia towards the door. ‘Good God, what do you think I am, some kind of monster? Don’t be ridiculous. I can stay and look after the kids for a few days while you’re ill, it’s not a big deal. I’m their auntie!’

She felt the stiffness go out of Julia’s shoulders as she gave in, allowing herself to be propelled towards the stairs.

‘OK, well, thank you. That’s really kind.’

‘It’s the least I can do. You did put me up when I got stranded by the snow!’ She grinned. ‘OK, I’m going to check on the children. You all right if I go to this open mic? I promised Ted.’

Julia was nodding as she headed towards her bed. ‘Of course, yes. You have fun.’

Jen was dubious about the likelihood of that, but she didn’t like to mention it. ‘Message if you need me.’

Julia nodded, her eyes already closed.

Jen finished tidying the kitchen, then tiptoed to Amy and George’s bedroom. They were sleeping, George on his belly with his bum in the air, Amy spreadeagled on her back, arms flung out and hair splayed over the pillow, in the glow of a nightlight that sprinkled a display of stars onto the wall. All was peaceful.

Quietly, Jen dragged a brush through her hair, arranging the cat pendant on top of her jumper, and grabbed her coat, contemplating her promise to Julia. She’d really had no choice but to stay; she could hardly leave Julia to struggle on while she was ill and Dan was at the conference. Even after all that had happened between them, she couldn’t be that hard-hearted to her own sister.

She’d expected to feel some disappointment, or even irritation, at this extension to her unplanned stay in Babblebrook. Just because she’d chosen to do the right thing didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. But, as she stepped out into the frosty night and made her way to The Plough, her mind was still full of the image of her slumbering niece and nephew. And in her heart she found a sneaking warmth that felt suspiciously like joy.

The pub was crowded and she soon spotted Ted, waving at her from the bar.

‘I’m not sure I’ve got time for this now,’ he grumbled, as they found a seat. Jen took off her coat and huddled closer to the fire they’d sat next to, rubbing her hands.

‘Cold?’ Ted asked.

She nodded. It was freezing outside. ‘I forgot my gloves.’

He held out his hands, and she put her own in his. ‘Oh wow,’ he said, cupping them in his warm palms and rubbing gently. ‘Like little icicles!’

She smiled as the feeling began to creep back into her frozen fingers. The weather hadn’t improved, and she’d half-expected the event to be cancelled, but the pub was heaving.

Glancing around as she went to get drinks, she saw some familiar faces – Reverend Pauline was at the bar drinking a large glass of white wine, and Marnie from the café was in a corner with the handsome man who’d been selling the carvings at the Christmas market. They were looking pretty loved up; she was tucked into his arm and he was beaming as though he’d won a prize. There was a time when such a public display of affection would have brought out the cynic in Jen, but now she glanced at them wistfully. They seemed to be genuinely happy.

Marnie’s daughter, however, seemed less than thrilled by this cosy scene. She sat with her back to them a few seats away, alternately rolling her eyes and hiding her face, talking to her friend as they sipped their colas and munched through a bag of crisps each.

Next to Marnie sat the older couple Jen had seen in the café, although no one was in bike leathers this time. She also spotted plenty of Julia’s parent friends, though no Michelle, who was presumably still struggling with the cold that Julia now had.

‘I don’t know what you’re complaining for, you were the one who dragged me here, remember? And it looks like the whole village has come!’ Jen said, placing an alcohol-free beer and a gin and tonic on the table. Ted had to drive home, but luckily for her, Railway Cottages was in tripping distance of the pub.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. His hair was a mess and his shirt was rumpled. He gave a tired smile and a wave to a group of school mums who were trying very hard to catch his eye, and they giggled together in response. He remained oblivious, of course.

‘You OK?’ Jen asked. ‘Pressure of the job getting to you?’

He shook his head. ‘No, it’s not – well, yes. Kind of.’