Page 80 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

It was all she could do to stop herself eating it out of the tub with a spoon.

She began with the fair.

She had just under a week to finish organising it.

‘Did you go to the Christmas fair last year?’ she asked Amy and Lottie as they were eating Dan’s pasta leftovers for lunch the next day.

They both nodded enthusiastically.

‘It was at Wood End,’ Amy said. ‘And Father Christmas came and—’

‘And he brought his reindeer and we could stroke them,’ Lottie added.

Amy nodded, and spoke though a mouthful of pasta. ‘And there was a giant big tree that filled up their whole actual hall and—’

‘Yes, with presents underneath for everyone and—’

‘And remember the thing with chocolate falling down and you could put your marshmallow in it?’ Amy’s eyes rounded out with wonder at the memory.

Lottie giggled. ‘And Oscar put his face in it and his mummy was ever so a bit cross and her made him go home before the proper party with the games and the music and the special sparkly light and the fireworks.’

They giggled together. Then Amy nodded, spooning up the last mouthful of pasta. ‘And my daddy said those roasted porks were the yummiest he’d actually had.’

‘Sounds great,’ Jen said, clearing their empty bowls and wondering how on earth she was going to produce anything that compared to all this on a few days’ notice, so close to Christmas.

‘Yes, and this year will be even better, won’t it?’ Lottie said.

Amy nodded, swinging her legs happily. ‘Because Mr Piper said so. And he always keeps his promises, doesn’t he?’

Jen smiled at their hopeful, happy little faces. ‘Yes, he does.’

Ted had been on her mind constantly since their conversation the day before. The realisation that she’d let him down, had consistently been letting him down, sat like a stone in her chest. She remembered all the times he’d been there for her; the nights at college when they’d sat on the floor, drinking and talking till the sun rose. Setting the world to rights. The songs he wrote and played, sweeping her away from her own problems into a world of beautiful melody and heartfelt lyrics. The films they’d watched, he alone of her friends sharing her taste for the classic, passionate stories of yesteryear. The jokes he made, always terrible, always succeeding in lifting her spirits if she was low.

He’d been the best friend a person could ask for, and she realised she’d taken him for granted. Well, now she was determined to make up for that.

The gentle touch of a hand on her arm brought her out of her reverie with a start, and she almost dropped the bowls she was holding.

‘You OK?’ Julia asked, her expression sympathetic. She eased the bowls out of Jen’s grip and put them on the side. ‘He’s not worth it, you know.’

‘What?’

‘Anthony. I assume that’s what you were thinking about?’

Anthony. She realised with a jolt that she hadn’t thought of him for hours. ‘Oh. Anthony, yes.’

‘Waste of space,’ Julia grumbled. ‘And a waste of your time.’ She squeezed her shoulder before bending to wipe the girls’ faces. ‘Don’t give him another thought.’

Jen nodded.

‘I’m going to see Ted,’ she said.

She borrowed Julia’s car, a fairly ancient Ford Focus that had two car seats in the back and was covered in a veritable carpet of crumbs, half-sucked rice cakes and dog-eared board books. Jen hadn’t driven for some time, there being neither the need or the funds in her city life, and the snow wasn’t helping with her confidence. She inched along, nose to the steering wheel, like a near-sighted OAP. She went to collect the decorations, only to find that they’d been returned; she’d left it too long. Guilt twisting inside her, Jen added it to the list of things she needed to organise by the weekend.

Luckily Ted didn’t live far away, and she arrived unscathed and with a disproportionate sense of achievement, despite the decorations debacle. He stood in the doorway in a T-shirt and pyjama trousers, arms folded as he watched her multiple attempts to parallel park.

‘Good God,’ he said with a small smile as, finally successful, she climbed out. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when you got behind the wheel again. Are we going to get one of those government warnings on our phones?’

She grinned. ‘Rude! I’m a perfectly capable driver, thank you very much.’