Page 60 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

Julia gaped at her. ‘You knew, right? That’s why he broke it off?’

Jen frowned. His reasons at the time had been vague; he didn’t want to jeopardise their friendship, she was dealing with so much, it wasn’t the right time. Hurt, she’d assumed they were excuses. She’d assumed that she just wasn’t the kind of person that men were serious about. Everything that had happened since seemed to confirm that.

But Julia shook her head. ‘God, I thought he’d told you. He was worried, you know – you were a mess, Jen. He wasn’t sure you really knew what you wanted and he thought maybe you just needed a friend right then. So he stepped back.’

‘But – why didn’t he tell me? Why – why has he never said anything?’ A flash of irritation swept through her. There had been so many chances, over the years, for him to say something. Would everything have been different, if he’d just told her how he felt? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. ‘Are you sure? How would you even . . . ?’

‘He told us. One time when he came back home with you, I think you’d gone for a nap or something, and he – I remember him sitting at Mum’s table, telling us. He was – I felt so bad for him. He was heartbroken.’

‘But . . .’ Jen’s mind was reeling. Over the years she’d learned to tell herself that their dalliance at college had just been a meaningless fling, two friends confusing that closeness for something else. Their relationship as a couple would have been short-lived, but their friendship was for ever. And she wouldn’t want it any other way. ‘But I – it’s not that. It’s never been that.’

Julia drained her glass. ‘Or it’s always been that. And you were too scared to admit it, after Mum and Dad.’

Jen flushed. Julia’s words were like needles, piercing her skin. So what if she had been cautious? She knew what happened when love broke down, the pain, the ugliness of it. And how could you ever be sure that, no matter how well something started, it wouldn’t end up like that?

The one time she’d tried, her fears had been proved right.

‘But – that was all years ago, even if it’s true, and—’

‘It is true.’

‘—and it’s not like that now. We’re just friends, and I’d never jeopardise that. He has a girlfriend, and I’m seeing Anthony.’

Julia’s expression pinched.

‘What?’ Jen snapped. ‘What was that look?’

Julia widened her eyes, trying to appear innocent. ‘Nothing, I just – I’m sure it’s fine, but sometimes I think you’re a bit weird around this guy.’

‘I am not! You haven’t even seen us together.’

‘No, I know, that’s true, but – you seem a bit on edge sometimes. Checking your messages and worrying what to say. It’s like – you know you don’t need to try to be someone you’re not, don’t you?’

‘Oh, don’t you start.’ Jen gulped down her wine and put the glass back on the table a little too forcefully. ‘You all don’t understand why Anthony’s right for me because you don’t understand me! He gets me, he celebrates the things I’ve done and the choices I’ve made and – and the person I am, he’s not trying to make me into some boring suburban housewife.’

Julia looked stung, but Jen couldn’t stop herself now. ‘Ted – Ted was just telling me that I should become a teacher and live in Babblebrook, of all places, and I just—’

‘But that’s a great idea! You’re so good with—’

‘But that’s not who I am, and Anthony gets that. I don’t want that life!’

They were silent for a moment, Jen’s words still ringing through the air. She was flushed, her breath coming in quick gasps.

Julia looked at her steadily. ‘If you say so,’ she said.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jen didn’t sleep well.

Julia’s revelation about why Ted had broken up with her all those years ago went round and round her mind, and it was as though the years in between had slipped away. She felt as though she was still that young woman, in freefall as she tried to come to terms with the collapse of her parents’ marriage. Her trust in everything had been rocked. The world she’d always known, and all that she’d counted on to keep her safe, had been blown apart. Ted had been right; what she needed was not a lover who might eventually leave, but a friend she could rely on. And he’d given her that.

She’d just never realised that he’d sacrificed what he wanted to do it. She’d always thought that he ended things because she simply wasn’t the kind of woman people committed to. It became an assumption she carried for years. Now, she realised that wasn’t true. And it changed everything.

Perhaps her understanding of all that happened in the past wasn’t accurate. Perhaps her insecurities about whether she was good enough for Anthony were based on nothing.

They had been messaging a lot, but there was no firm plan to meet again, and she could feel her anxieties rising up. He had vaguely mentioned dinner, but nothing solid had been put in place, and Jen felt old doubts, old fears, creeping in as she lay sleepless. He didn’t mean the things he’d said; he would disappear from her life with no warning. Just because she felt things were good between them didn’t mean they were.

She turned over, pummelling her pillow into a more comfortable shape.