Page 76 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

‘Am I?’ Ted asked.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Jen snapped, hurt by his lack of support.

He laughed, but there was no humour in it. ‘Oh, now you ask.’

‘What?’ She noticed that there were shadows under his eyes and he was pale behind the neat beard, and for the first time it occurred to her that he might be really struggling with something. ‘Wait – what’s going on? Are you OK?’

She stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. He sighed and gazed down at her.

‘Yeah, I’m just – well, not really. That’s why I messaged you last night, to see if you had time to chat.’

She remembered now, his text after the nativity play. He’d seemed unlike himself then, now she thought about it. But she’d been too busy with Anthony to reply, and then too busy getting drunk to think about Ted. Until she needed him.

‘I’m sorry. It’s been a – it’s been rough.’ Her voice shook and she swallowed.

‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘And I am sorry, you don’t deserve that. At all.’ His gentle gaze lingered on her face. ‘But you’re not the only one with problems.’

‘So what’s going on?’

Behind him she could see Julia, Dan and the children start to walk away. Michelle, Lottie and baby Max were with them. She was itching to join them, to try again to make up for disappointing the children by taking them to the café.

Ted was talking about the school Christmas fair. ‘. . . absolute nightmare, to be honest with you, everything I planned seems to have fallen through. It’s just been one problem after another, everyone seems to have this flu or they’re double-booked and they’re all cancelling, and it’s supposed to be next weekend, and I just don’t know how I’m going to get it sorted. I really don’t want to let the children down. You know?’

Jen tore her gaze away from the figures of the children as they slowly made their way across the green. She nodded. She did indeed know.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, closing his eyes. ‘And that’s not even the worst thing.’

The children were leaving the green now and turning towards home. Her eyes flicked between them and Ted, and back again. The little figures disappeared behind the hedge.

Ted had stopped speaking. He was looking at her, and the disappointed expression was back.

Jen shook her head. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Carry on, the Christmas fair, yes. Sounds like a nightmare.’

She tried to be sympathetic, and she could see he was stressed. But she secretly thought he was putting too much pressure on himself; the fair might not be as impressive as last year’s, but people would understand if bad weather had intervened.

She’d just been betrayed in a devastating way by a man she trusted. A man she really thought understood her. Liked her. Wanted to build something with her. She was still reeling, still feeling broken. It put the fair issues into perspective, she thought, and she was used to Ted being the one to support her when things got tough.

He was silent, looking at her with pain in his eyes.

‘What?’ she said. It came out tetchier than she meant. She was hurt and hungover and guilty and tired. ‘Are you annoyed with me or something?’

He shook his head, and spread his arms. ‘I know you’re struggling,’ he said. ‘But sometimes other people have problems too, and sometimes they come at the same time as yours.’

She stared at him. ‘What does that even mean?’

‘Just – just go after the kids. I can see you want to.’

She did want to. And she was finding him annoying, truthfully.

‘It’s OK,’ Ted said. ‘They’re important to you, I get it. Honestly. Just go, we can catch up later.’

He smiled. It almost convinced her. It convinced her enough to send her scurrying across the green, calling for Amy.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The café was a warm, cosy, ginger-scented haven. Jen sat in the children’s area, George on her knee, Amy and Lottie on chairs next to her. She’d offered to bring them to give the adults a break, and everyone had taken her up on it enthusiastically. The girls drank hot chocolates laden with marshmallows while George sucked on a chocolate crispy wreath, managing to cover his whole face, hair, hands and a good section of Jen’s jumper, in smears.

Technically, it was Julia’s jumper. But even if it had been her own, her best, Jen wouldn’t have cared.