Page 65 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

You around for a catch up later?

She saw the notification but didn’t open the message. It wasn’t like him to ask to talk or meet up out of the blue, and he had looked tired. For a moment, she thought about calling him, even just quickly, to check in.

‘Where do you want to go?’ Anthony asked, smiling.

Jen fancied a curry. But she wasn’t sure whether he liked spicy foods; they’d never eaten anything like that when they’d been out.

‘Italian?’ she said.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The streets of Waterfield looked like something from a Hallmark movie; everything was open for late-night shopping and light spilled onto the pavements from shop windows that were decorated with festive garlands. People hurried along the street, wrapped in hats and scarves to protect them from the snow that had started to fall, carrying bulging bags and smiling cheerfully.

‘Oh, look,’ Jen said, stopping to gaze at the display in the toyshop window. Giant teddies dressed in pyjamas – a mum, dad and two children – stood next to a fake fireplace and a Christmas tree that twinkled with red and gold lights and decorations. Each teddy held a toy – a doll with long, dark hair, a wooden train, a red toy car, and the youngest bear held a teddy, dressed in pyjamas identical to its own.

‘How sweet! I still haven’t got presents for Amy and George.’

‘Want to go in?’ Anthony asked.

Jen was tempted. She knew that Amy loved the cows on the Woods’ farm, and she was sure she’d find a beautiful soft toy one in the shop, or perhaps a wooden farm set. George liked his tea set, and she was sure he’d love a little wooden cooker with some play pots and pans.

The shop looked beautiful, and she knew she’d find what she wanted in there. It also looked expensive.

Her dwindling funds were starting to worry her; she’d been dipping into the money she’d saved for her annual Christmas trip abroad, and it was rapidly disappearing. She knew she could pick up shifts at the bar when she returned to her old life; the manager had already messaged a few times, asking when she might be available. There were plenty of staff, and the manager was understanding, but eventually her patience would wear thin.

Jen had stayed in Babblebrook far longer than she’d intended; she should get back to her own life at some point. But not yet.

She shook her head.

‘No, it’s OK, thanks. I’m kind of hungry, so . . .’

Anthony nodded. ‘Then let’s get you fed!’

As they walked away, Jen gave one last look back at the toyshop. Perhaps she could ask Andrew, Marnie’s partner, if he had any of the nutcrackers left from the Christmas market. With a bit of luck he’d give her mates’ rates.

They went to the same restaurant, sat at the same table, in a cosy corner. Carols played softly in the background and there was a comforting hum of people talking and clinking cutlery. The smell of garlic and wine hung in the air.

‘I can’t believe you just turned up at Julia’s house out of the blue like that,’ Jen said, smiling, as she glanced at the menu.

Anthony reached for her hand across the table. ‘I just really wanted to see you. And I had a feeling you’d be OK with something spontaneous, I know you’re not uptight about that kind of thing.’

She felt her smile grow wider. She wasn’t great at planning, never had been, and other people had let her know in no uncertain terms that they found this trait frustrating. Even at college, she’d annoyed her friends by failing to turn up at prearranged times because she’d been distracted by something or lost track of time. They’d despaired when they were all on teaching practice and she was up till the early hours preparing activities for that day, while they had finished their planning and prep days in advance.

Lou would often help, although she did gently suggest that Jen become more organised, and Ted would cheerfully stay up with her, helping to cut out craft activities or make wordsearches on whatever topic the children were studying.

But even he gently questioned her these days, asking about her work or living situation with a desperately neutral expression that she suspected hid judgement.

And then there was Julia, with her perfect life, who had done all the right things at the right times; graduated university and immediately got a finance job at a pensions firm, married her first boyfriend, moved to live close to where they’d grown up, had two children. Apparently, when snow and illness didn’t intervene, she took the children to Jen and Julia’s mum’s every month. All while remaining cheerful and unflappable, and looking stunning. How was Jen supposed to compete with that? She couldn’t, so she’d gone in another direction; that of disappointing everyone around her with panache.

She never felt that pressure with Anthony.

He celebrated her for refusing to choose a conventional life. At last, she’d found someone who truly understood her.

‘Not everyone gets it, do they?’ she said.

He gazed at her with those blue eyes. ‘I’ve never found anyone else that does, really. Not – not like you. You’re just so open about things like careers, you know, about understanding that an office job or whatever isn’t for everyone. And you’re so – you don’t judge, do you?’

She shook her head. ‘I admire it, really. Like you, with the writing and the poetry or whatever.’ She realised that she had a rather hazy idea of what Anthony actually did. But he carried that notebook wherever he went, it was poking out of his jacket pocket right now, and she knew he wrote poetry. ‘That’s – there are so many people who have that dream, who have some kind of creative talent, but they’re not brave enough to follow their heart. People just take the easy road and get a proper job, you know?’