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Mel’s gaze snaps back to Hattie, who has a rather shrewd look in her eye. So maybe Hattie knows a little more than she’s letting on?

Mel smiles. “I would love to be a bridesmaid, Hattie. Thank you for asking me.” She gives Hattie a quick, hard squeeze. She’ll deal with it, she tells herself. If this is it, for her and Finn, she’ll deal with it. And at least they will have parted on better terms this time around, so maybe being there at the wedding will be possible? Maybe they’ll be able to see each other and be, if not friends, then friendly? And as for Susan…

“Right,” says Susan loudly, gathering everyone’s attention. “Shall we do Secret Santa before the obligatory Christmas Day walk?”

They all head into the living room, curling up on every available seat, with Hattie perched on the sofa arm next to Dylan, and Mark sitting on the floor by the fireplace with Freya. Freya hands out the presents, bouncing on her toes when she gives Mel hers. Mel shakes it, holding it to her ear, and Freya grins.

“On three!” Susan says. “One, two, three…” And they all tear off the paper.

Mel hears Mark’s chortle when he sees his tie—a bunch of Santas wearing kilts on a green background. “Oh, this’ll be great for the office Christmas party next year,” he says. Mel catches Finn’s eye, where he’s sitting on the sofa next to his mum, and he winks at her.

Finn has a tartan hat, which Hattie insists he has to wear to the wedding, and Susan has a few jars of Scottish-made jams, which she declares “lovely.”

Mel’s present is a gorgeous wooden jewelry-making set, with wooden beads and a set of paints. “This is amazing!” She holds it up for everyone to see. “Thanks, Santa.”

“It wasn’t Santa—it was me!” Freya bursts out.

Mel laughs. “Well, you’re an excellent stand-in for Santa. Maybe you can go and work with the elves.”

Freya comes over, clearly desperate to open the kit.

“Freya,” Kristen says, a touch of gentle warning to her tone, “that’s Mel’s present, remember?”

“It’s okay,” Mel says. “We can share.”

She gets out all the different parts and starts showing Freya how to make a bracelet. It’s silly, given the kit is obviously made for kids, but there’s something soothing in the activity—and it reminds her of the bit she’d once loved. She’d started her business a bit by accident, given the way it took off, but she’d always done it because she’d loved designing and making jewelry, loved the idea of someone wearing one of her designs and it helping them feel special. Loved the feeling of satisfaction at the end when you saw something you’d created with your own hands. And, somewhere along the line, she’d lost that.

They all go out for a walk before lunch, heading directly from the cottage into the pine forest, where snow still lingers on the forest floor, crunching underfoot and frosting the top of the pine trees. Is this Mel’s first-ever white Christmas, she wonders? She thinks it might be.

She and Finn hold hands as they walk, content to just be there in each other’s company, while Freya gets a piggyback from Mark most of the way, and Hattie and Susan link arms, chatting at the back of the group. Mel tries not to keep checking on Susan as they walk, tries to forget about the secret she’s holding and what it might mean, and concentrate only on the here and now. Because if Susan wants a perfect Christmas then she’s damn sure going to get it.

Christmas dinner is a huge success, with roast turkey, roast potatoes in abundance, and the best Yorkshire puddings Mel thinks she’s ever tasted. They all chip in with cooking—Hattie refuses to let Mel anywhere near the spinach—with Freya getting involved and making the cranberry sauce. When Mark asks Kristen if she wants a glass of red with dinner, she declines, and though Mark gives her a slightly quizzical look he says nothing.

Mel manages to pull Kristen aside, the two of them hanging back in one corner of the kitchen while the rest of them are being loud in the dining area.

“I just wanted to check,” Mel says, glancing around to check no one is in earshot. “Are you…okay?”

Kristen gives her a shrewd look. “Are you?”

Mel blows out a breath. “No. Not really.” She swallows and lowers her voice. “I can’t get my head around it. It doesn’t feel real, and, God, poor Susan, but I…”

“I know,” Kristen whispers. “I’ve been off with Mark all week—I know it, and I know he can tell, but I think he just thinks I’m tired and a bit stressed.” Mel feels a rush of guilt. Here she is, feeling awful about not telling Finn, when Kristen has been keeping this secret all week.

Kristen places a hand on her stomach. “I found out I was pregnant the day before I found out about Susan. I was working up to tell Mark, after figuring out how I felt about it and what it meant for me, but I was going to tell him, talk to him about it, and then…” She shoots a nervous glance toward the dining area. “It’s like it’s tied up together. Like if I tell him about being pregnant, I’ll have to explain why I didn’t tell him sooner, and that will lead to Susan, and she really wants to be able to tell them herself—so what do I do?” She closes her eyes. “It’s all such a mess, Mel.”

“I know,” Mel says quietly. Because what else is there to say? Is there a right thing to do, Mel wonders? What would she want, if it were her mother, keeping this from her? She can’t imagine, and even the thought of it sends a jolt of fear through her. And she doesn’t know what she’d want. She’d want to know, wouldn’t she? But what if she could do nothing to change it? And does it matter what she’d want? It’s about what Susan wants, isn’t it?

She pulls Kristen into a hug, and they stand there for a minute, Mel fighting the urge to cry. She feels Kristen take a sobbing breath and knows she must be trying to do the same.

“Hey, what’s going on over here?” It’s Finn’s voice, and Mel jumps away from Kristen guiltily. Kristen turns her head away, using the excuse of bending down to find some placemats, while Mel forces herself to smile brightly.

“Oh, just girl talk.” She immediately cringes. Since when has she used the expression “girl talk”?

“Right,” Finn says, looking between the two of them. “Are you sure you’re—”

“We’re fine, Finn.” And again, that too-bright voice is back. “Come on. It’s time for dessert.” She marches back over to the dining table, where they have a Christmas pudding waiting for them—and a chocolate brownie for Freya, which Hattie declares she’s jealous of. Mel can feel Finn watching her, and does her best to throw herself into the conversation around the table so he can’t keep probing her. He was right. He does know her too well—but she only has one more day to get through, doesn’t she? One more day to keep the secret, and then surely by the time she sees him again—if she sees him again—he’ll know? And she can’t think about that right now, how he’ll be once he knows.

Susan has got them all crackers, and they sit with paper hats on their heads, reading out the jokes to one another.