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“Yes,” she says firmly. “We’ll talk.”

Chapter Thirty

When Mel gets downstairs, Freya is going around each room in turn saying goodbye to inanimate objects. “Bye, tree!” She tries to hug the Christmas tree and laughs when Finn joins in, doing a good impression of a man who has not just had an emotional conversation upstairs.

Kristen watches her daughter, standing by the doorway with Mel. “I suppose she has to make friends with trees, with no other children here.”

Mel glances at Kristen’s stomach. “Well, maybe not for long.” Kristen immediately grimaces. “Sorry,” Mel says quickly.

Kristen shakes her head. “I just—I can’t think about it. Not until…”

“Yeah,” Mel agrees, her mouth dry. Not until Susan says something.

Mel feels tearful as she leaves the cottage, and almost wants to do what Freya did, go around and say goodbye to each room in the house. The fact that she’d said no to coming in the first place seems alien to her now.

Susan looks a bit pale and drawn as she locks the front door for the final time, the Christmas tree a little sad through the window, without the lights to brighten it up. Mel wonders if it’s the knowledge of what the new year might bring that’s making Susan look like that. She’s been putting it off, Mel knows, maybe refusing to see reality, using Christmas as something on which to focus—and now that’s over she’s got nothing to distract herself with, nothing to hide behind. She can’t imagine how Susan must be feeling—and doesn’t know what to do to make it better. She wants to give her a hug, tell her it’ll all be okay. But she can’t do that without calling attention to something wrong—and she doesn’t know if it’ll all be okay, does she?

She brushes past Susan on the way to the car and squeezes her arm as subtly as she can. It feels inadequate—even more so when Susan catches her eye, smiles sadly, and gives her a nod.

“You okay?” Finn asks as they get into the rental car—just the two of them. It’s the first time they’ve really spoken all morning.

“Yeah,” Mel says, because what else is she supposed to say?

He takes her hand, squeezes it. And she wonders if, despite what is going on with Susan, things might really work out between the two of them.

Susan has booked a table at the same pub they’d danced at—was that really only three days ago? The fire is roaring and crackling in the corner, just like last time, and it smells comfortingly of smoke and wood and beer. There’s no band this time—Mel supposes it’s not quite the right vibe for Boxing Day lunch. The atmosphere is still buzzing, with music on in the background and the sound of chatter and laughter sweeping over them.

They are seated at a corner table, and the waitress produces menus for them all and a coloring book and crayons for Freya.

“I actually think I’m stuffed after breakfast,” Mark says with a sigh, rubbing his stomach for emphasis.

“Ah, suck it up,” Finn says.

They order drinks, Mel opting to stick with water even though she’s not the one driving, and when it’s time to order food she barely pays attention to what she’s choosing.

“Well, this has been the best Christmas,” Hattie says. Dylan puts an arm around her and Hattie leans in. Mel has hope that they will, in fact, see it through. “Thanks, Mum. You’re amazing, not that we needed any more proof of that, of course.”

Susan smiles. It seems forced. Is it forced? “I’m so glad you could all make it. And thank you, all, for getting stuck in.”

“Let’s do best bit, worst bit, funniest bit of the holiday,” Hattie announces. “I’ll go first. Best bit—winning the meal competition.”

Finn raises one eyebrow. “I thought we weren’t judging that?”

“Funniest bit,” Mark says, “seeing Dylan act out The Jungle Book.”

Dylan shakes his head. “Never going to live that down, am I?”

“Mel?” asks Hattie. “Best bit?”

Mel immediately thinks of Finn, of kissing him under the stars, of the way he looked at her in their room, only last night. “Do I have to pick just one? Being here with you all has been the best.” Finn puts an arm around her, pulling her close, surrounding her with his scent.

Hattie waves that away. “You’re terrible at this game. Mum?”

“Hmm?” Susan blinks at her daughter. “Oh. I’m with Mel, it has all been amazing.” She smiles around at them again. “I just need to pop to the loo. You all start, if the food arrives.”

“What about you, Freya-bean?” Mark asks. “What was your best bit?”

“Presents,” Freya says, without looking up from her coloring.