Page 8 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

Lou laughed, and the others looked perplexed.

‘What, she just dumped it on the bar? Was it in a cage or something?’ Rich asked.

Jen shook her head.

‘A lead.’

‘A lead?’ Lou was incredulous now, her eyes rounding out like saucers.

‘I kid you not. She brought it in on a lead and put it on the bar and when the manager told her to move it because, you know . . .’

‘Hygiene,’ Ted said.

‘Hygiene, exactly, she said she couldn’t because it was her support animal.’

Rich was chuckling, and began to wipe his eyes. ‘A guinea pig, though . . .’

‘I know!’

‘Aww, it’s cute though,’ Lou said. ‘I’d like a guinea pig support animal.’

‘It’s the lead though!’ Ted was looking incredulous. ‘I mean, they’ve got tiny little legs, right? How – how was she walking with it? She must’ve been, like – tiptoeing. Right?’ The others laughed as he looked around. ‘I mean . . .’ He tapped his fingers on the table in tiny movements, close together, to indicate small steps.

‘I know, right?’ Jen grinned. Their laughter was earning a few good-naturedly curious glances from other customers. She took another sip of coffee, satisfied that her story had entertained them.

Rich sighed as he wiped his eyes, their laughter abating. ‘So, it’s – you’re still at the pub? Is that just part-time, or a, you know. Permanent kind of thing?’

They all fell silent, turning serious gazes on her now. There was something in their expressions, a kind of careful lack of judgement, that set her on edge. She tried to think of another funny story to distract them with.

She shrugged. ‘Oh, you know. It suits me for now.’

A silence fell over the group as they looked at her, nodding, their expressions carefully neutral.

‘Oh well, that’s – that’s good, then,’ Lou said. The mum of the group, ever the gentle one. She would never criticise her friend’s life choices, and yet Jen flushed, feeling defensive.

‘It’s fun, I get to meet some really interesting people. And the hours suit me, you know I’ve always been a night owl!’ She glanced at Ted, willing him to agree with her; they’d spent many a night sitting up till the small hours putting the world to rights when they were at college.

He nodded, clearing his throat and glancing down at the game. ‘So, where were we with this?’ he asked, his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

Politely, they continued with the game. No one asked about her work, or talked of their own, for the rest of the evening.

Jen played half-heartedly, losing as always. She didn’t know why she felt so hollow. Her friends had made their own choices, and she was glad for them. They were content with their jobs and relationships, and that was fine, but it wasn’t for her. She was independent, a free spirit, not reliant on anyone. And she was happy with her choices.

Chapter Four

She hadn’t quite escaped their scrutiny.

They wrapped up in coats and scarves, and waved goodbye to Marnie. She was fussing over the little dog, Holly, and chatting to the girl they’d seen walking her, but she waved and smiled warmly at them.

‘So, how’s – you still sharing that flat with those friends of yours?’ Rich asked as they turned onto the village street, passing the farm and a row of cottages, all twinkling with Christmas lights in the dark night. On their right, the village green was shrouded in mist.

Jen pulled her coat tighter around herself and tucked her chin into her scarf. ‘Uh huh,’ she said. ‘Friends’ was putting it strongly; her flatmates had come and gone over the years, those she shared her living space with seeming to grow younger each time. In fact, each flatmate was around the same age, early-to-mid-twenties, while she ventured into her thirties.

‘Well, that must be fun,’ Lou said kindly as they walked past the school, the inflatable Santa now a slightly eerie flapping shadow in the gloom. ‘How nice to be sharing with grown-ups! I bet they don’t chuck their food behind the radiator and vomit down your clothes.’

‘Only on a Saturday night,’ Jen quipped, and they all laughed.

‘So no significant other at the moment? Still playing the field?’ Rich asked.