The Holiday Cottage

16

Dorothy

“ S hould we call the police?” Dorothy paced across the kitchen and back again. “She’s not in the cottage, but her car is still there. Her bag is here. Where could she be?”

“She must have gone for a walk, but I drove around the local roads for a good ten minutes and there was no sign of her.” Sara closed the kitchen door. She was looking strained and exhausted.

They’d given the girls lunch and the two of them were now safely curled up in the TV room with Bailey, watching cartoons.

“A walk?” Dorothy couldn’t bear to think about it. “But it’s freezing out there and she has no coat! And she’s been gone for hours. Maybe she has had an accident. She was very upset. What if she slipped and fell?”

“I’ll take the car and drive around again. I’ll go in a different direction this time. See if I can spot her.” Sara grabbed her keys. “I’ll call Patrick and ask him to come over and look after the girls.”

“I don’t want you to drive. One person in trouble is enough. You’re upset and there is ice on the roads.” Now that she was more in control of her emotions, Dorothy was almost as worried about Sara as she was about Imogen. Sara’s coping mechanism had been different to hers. Sara chose not to think about that time, not to talk about it, and now Dorothy’s actions had forced her to confront a traumatic part of her life. “I’m so sorry, Sara.”

“There’s no need to apologize. We just need to deal with it.”

Dorothy didn’t know how to deal with it. “Should we call the police?”

“No, not yet.” Sara put her keys down. “I can’t bear the idea that all these years she thought we’d rejected her.” Sara’s voice broke. “She hates us.”

Dorothy was shaken by it too. “No. She is angry with us because of what she thinks we did. But once she knows the truth, that will change.”

“Will it? If she has grown up thinking we deserted her and Tina, it won’t be easy to persuade her otherwise. And it doesn’t seem as if she’d be keen to sit down and have a heart-to-heart over a cup of tea.” Sara rummaged in her pocket for a tissue and blew her nose hard. “Sorry. Reliving this whole thing is my nightmare.”

“I know, sweetheart. And I feel terrible about it. I should have told Imogen right away who I was, but I was so shocked to see her that first day in that meeting and I missed the moment, and after that I was just enjoying spending time with her. I didn’t want to risk it all going wrong.”

“I know. I understand.” Sara took a deep breath. “I need to keep it together. The girls are already asking difficult questions. What do I tell them?”

“The truth.” Dorothy felt bone-tired, but no matter how exhausted she felt, her concern for Imogen was greater. “Let’s find Imogen first, and then sort everything else out later. She can’t have gone far. What if she was walking along the road and was hit by a car? It’s icy out there and the roads haven’t been cleared. Call the hospital, Sara. Once you’ve done that, I’ll call the police. I think it’s time. Maybe if we do that, she’ll turn up. You know what life is like.”

This time Sara didn’t argue. She reached for her phone, found the number and dialed.

She was on hold, waiting for someone to answer when Dorothy’s phone rang.

She snatched it up with a surge of hope, and then sighed as she saw the caller ID. “It’s Miles. I don’t know why I would have thought it was Imogen given that her phone is here.”

“Answer it,” Sara said, “if Miles is out on visits you can ask him to keep an eye out for her.”

It was a vain hope, but at this stage she was willing to cling to anything no matter how fragile. She answered the call.

“Hello, Miles.”

“Dorothy? I have Imogen here.”

“Imogen?” Dorothy grabbed the nearest chair and sat down hard. She waved a hand at Sara. “Imogen is with Miles.” She turned back to the phone. “Miles? Where are you? How do you have Imogen?”

“It’s a long story. We’ll tell you when we see you, but I wanted to let you know she’s fine. I thought you would be worrying.”

He knew her so well.

“Thank you, Miles.” She could barely speak for the relief. “Is she all right?”

There was a pause. “Yes.”

She wondered about that pause. “Are you at your place? I’ll come right now and pick her up.”

“No, don’t do that. We’ll come to Holly Cottage. We’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”

Holly Cottage. Why not the house?

Oh, what did it matter? All that mattered was that Imogen wasn’t lying in a ditch or worse. For now, that was enough. The sense of relief was enormous.

“Sara and I will go straight there now. And Miles—” she swallowed “—thank you.” She ended the call and looked at Sara. “He’s bringing her to Holly Cottage. Let’s go.” She stood up and looked round the kitchen, flustered. “She didn’t eat anything at lunchtime. She must be starving. I’ll wrap some of the chicken and take the loaf I baked this morning. There’s chocolate cake in the tin. Sara, could you grab that?” She glanced at Sara and saw her typing a message into her phone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m asking Patrick to come straight here and take the girls.” Sara pressed Send.

Dorothy felt guilty. “I can do this without you. Patrick is Christmas shopping, and you have to take the girls to their party soon.”

“I’m coming with you. There’s no avoiding it now. Imogen needs to know the truth, and it might be easier if two of us are telling it. And I need to see her, and talk to her, and tell her—” She gave her mother a helpless look. “I don’t want her feeling badly about us. And also, now that we’ve come this far, I want to find out more about her life. I hope that’s not going to be upsetting.” She rubbed her fingers over her forehead and gave a wan smile. “Who am I kidding? The whole thing is upsetting.” Her phone buzzed and she checked it. “There. Patrick says he’ll be here in five minutes. He was already on his way home from the village, so good timing. He can spend an hour with them and then take them on to the party.”

“That’s kind of him.” This time Dorothy didn’t argue. She wasn’t sure she could do this without Sara. She needed Sara. Was that wrong? Sara was a grown woman, but she was still Dorothy’s child. Her job was to protect her child, wasn’t it? Although she’d failed utterly in that goal with Tina. How did you protect a child who had no wish to be protected? Who seemed to embrace the very things that kept Dorothy awake at night?

She and Sara had been together through all of this, right from the beginning. Sara was the one person who knew all of it. Maybe it wasn’t wrong to accept the support she was so freely offering. Maybe this was something they both needed to do.

Sara put her phone down. “How did Imogen come to be with Miles?”

“I don’t know. But I’m relieved that she is. She was so very upset when she left here.” It broke her heart to think of it. “I was afraid something had happened to her.”

“If she’s with Miles, she’ll be okay. He’s good with anything distressed, animal or human. I still remember that night he stayed with me while you went to the hospital.” Sara stood up and stuffed a few of her belongings into her bag. “Is she going to talk do you think? Or is she coming back to Holly Cottage to pack up her things and leave?”

Dorothy felt her stomach lurch. That was her biggest fear. That Imogen wouldn’t listen, or that she’d listen but not believe them.

“I don’t know. But we’re going to tell the truth and hope that’s enough.”

She packed the loaf, the chicken and the cake into a bag, and by the time she’d finished, Patrick had arrived.

He brought with him an air of calm capability, as well as a fair amount of new snow. He tugged off his boots in the doorway.

“Anyone home?”

Both girls heard his voice and emerged from the TV room.

“Daddy! Why are you here?” Ava was delighted to see him, but suspicious. “You said you were doing your Christmas shopping.”

“I’ve finished my shopping and the village is looking so Christmassy with the snow and the decorations I thought I’d take you and Iris there for a treat.” Patrick scooped up Ava and held out his hand to Iris. “It’s a Daddy and his girls trip. And then I’ll take you to your party afterward. Who is excited?”

Iris beamed and slid her hand into his. “I am.”

“Me too.” Ava put her arms around his neck. “Can we go ice-skating? I want to see if I can twirl on the ice.”

“Not today. We’ll keep that treat for a different day.” Patrick grabbed the girls’ coats from Sara and also the bag with their change of clothes.

“Will Imogen be here when we get back?” Ava was clinging like a monkey. “She said she’d make Christmas decorations with me. Where is Imogen? She didn’t eat her chicken.”

“Perhaps we’ll see her later.” Patrick brushed the question aside with a light touch. “Now let’s get going so that we can see those shop windows before everything closes.” He shifted his gaze to Sara. “Call if you need me.”

She nodded, and Dorothy felt a lump form in her throat as she saw the look they exchanged.

She was pleased that Sara had Patrick. That the two of them had each other.

Patrick had been more of a son to her than Tina had ever been a daughter. It was funny how life turned out. Sometimes it was the people closest to you who disappointed you the most.

Patrick left with the girls, and Sara picked up her coat and then put it down again.

“I’m scared.”

“Of Imogen?”

Sara looked at her and her eyes said everything. “Of reliving the past. And that’s what we will be doing if we tell Imogen the truth. I don’t really want to go there. It took so long to get my life into a good place after Tina left.”

“Oh, sweetheart—” Dorothy felt her chest tighten. She didn’t want to relive the past either, but it was a little different for her. Unlike Sara, she’d never managed to block it out. She’d carried it with her and learned to live alongside it. She was almost relieved that things were finally in the open. And she was feeling more optimistic than she’d been an hour ago. At least Imogen hadn’t left. They were going to have another chance at a proper conversation. “It’s going to be fine.” She said it with more conviction than she felt. “We don’t have to go through every detail. Just give her the chance to ask any questions she wants to ask.”

“That’s what worries me. I don’t want to talk about Tina. I don’t want to think about Tina. I’ve worked hard not to give her any space in my life, and I love the life I’ve built. I won’t let thoughts of her spoil it, but seeing Imogen has opened it all up again. I realize that I haven’t moved on or forgiven. All I’ve done is learn to ignore it.” Tears spilled over, and Sara pressed her palm to her cheek. “Oh God, I can’t believe I’m letting her get to me like this. But you lost so much because of her, and so did I. You lost your husband, and I lost my dad. And Imogen—” Her voice broke. “She didn’t care how we felt about Imogen. She didn’t even ask what we needed, or what Imogen needed. She dumped her daughter when it suited her, and she took her away when it suited her. Everything was always about her. She was the most selfish person on the planet back then, and there is no reason to believe she has changed. I’m not sure I can sit there with Imogen and say nice things about Tina.”

Dorothy crossed the room and hugged her daughter. “You don’t have to. We are going to tell the truth. How much of it we tell, we can decide when we talk to her.” She stepped back and picked up Sara’s coat. “I think this could end up being the best thing that could have happened.”

Sara sniffed and took the coat from her. “You don’t know that. You’re just trying to be an optimist.”

“At least everything will be out in the open.” No more sleepless nights wondering if she should tell Imogen who she was. When she should tell Imogen. “Let’s go. I don’t want them to turn up and find we’re not there.”

She picked up her coat and the bags, had a quick check of the kitchen and hurried to the car. It seemed ridiculous to drive such a short distance, but she didn’t want to waste a moment.

Once inside the cottage, she and Sara unpacked the food in the kitchen and put the kettle on.

Then they lit the log burner in the living room and turned on the fairy lights that snaked along the beams so that the place looked cozy and welcoming.

“I wish we’d bought her a tree, or wrapped a garland around the banister.” Dorothy fretted as she looked around. “Something to make the place festive.”

“I don’t think a fir tree and a few decorations are going to make this any easier,” Sara said and then paused as they both heard a car outside. “She’s here.”

Dorothy felt her heart give a frantic pump. “It’s going to be fine.” She hurried to the front door and saw Miles pull the car into the space next to Dorothy’s.

Imogen’s rental car was now covered in a thin layer of snow.

Miles was first out of the car and then Imogen slid out of the passenger seat.

Dorothy couldn’t remember ever feeling more nervous.

She noticed that Imogen was dressed differently. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater in a soft shade of pink that brought out the flush in her cheeks and the blue of her eyes. She looked vulnerable and unsure, and Dorothy had to stop herself rushing across and hugging Imogen tightly, as she’d done when she was a young child.

Imogen was clutching a large bag stuffed with what looked like clothes, and in the other she was holding tightly to the lead of a dog. Dorothy took a closer look.

“Is that Ralph? Has something happened to Valerie?”

“Valerie is fine, but Ralph has had an exciting morning.” Miles strode round the car and bent to pat the dog. “He took himself on a solo countryside walkabout and frightened poor Valerie to death. We’ve agreed that he is going to come and live with me.”

“But—” Dorothy struggled to keep up with this new development. “Valerie said she would never let him go. She felt she owed it to Jim.” And she’d worried about it because she knew Valerie wasn’t coping. “I offered to take Ralph myself, but she wouldn’t have it. How did you persuade her to let you take him?”

“I told her I was heartbroken after Alfie, and I needed another dog.” He gave Ralph a pat. “She took pity on me.”

Dorothy felt a lump in her throat. He’d done that? “But you said you didn’t want another dog after Alfie.”

“I had a rethink, and now I have Ralph. It pays to be adaptable in life.” Miles scratched the dog’s head. “You should have seen him when I pulled him out of the ditch. He was a mess. Imogen got soaked trying to bathe him with me, which is why she’s now wearing Lissa’s clothes.”

By focusing on the dog, he’d successfully smoothed over the initial awkwardness, and Dorothy felt a burst of gratitude. He’d made it so much easier for everyone.

“You’re very generous. Valerie will be relieved. And Ralph is lucky.”

“I’m not sure he agrees.” Miles straightened. “Ralph has fallen madly in love with Imogen. I’m a poor second choice.” He smiled at Imogen, who returned the smile tentatively.

It was a relief to see that smile. Also a relief that Imogen no longer seemed angry. If anything, she seemed nervous.

They were all nervous.

“Well, thank you for bringing Imogen, Miles.”

She assumed he’d leave, and Imogen seemed to make the same assumption because she gave him a strained smile and held out the dog’s lead to him.

“Thanks for everything.”

But he didn’t leave and he didn’t take the lead. Instead, he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and stayed by her side.

“Ralph is not going to want to be parted from Imogen and he has already had a pretty stressful day, so I’ll hang around for a bit if that’s all right.” He glanced at Imogen with a smile. “I’ll be right here for a while. Moral support. For Ralph. If that’s okay with you.”

Moral support. For Ralph.

Dorothy caught Sara’s eye.

“I—yes. If you’re sure.” Imogen looked startled, as if this was the first time anyone had ever been in her corner, and Dorothy felt a lump form in her throat.

She and Sara had been focusing on how they were feeling, but it must be a million times worse for Imogen, who was finding out things for the first time.

How much had she told Miles?

Some of it, surely, or why else would he be insisting on staying?

“Let’s go inside. It’s cold out here.” Dorothy headed back into the cottage, but Imogen didn’t follow.

She clung to the dog’s lead. “What about Ralph?”

“He can come too! Dogs welcome.” Right now she wouldn’t have cared if Miles had invited a herd of elephants into her home. She was just relieved Imogen was here and not showing any signs of leaving. “Come into the living room. It’s cozy with the fire going.”

They all joined her inside and Imogen sat down on the sofa. Miles settled himself next to her, his long legs half filling the room, and Ralph immediately lay across Imogen’s feet.

Sara vanished toward the kitchen. “I’ll make us some tea.”

Dorothy decided that the only way to do this was to dive right in.

“First I need to apologize,” she said, “for not telling you exactly who I was right away. It was a shock seeing you, to be honest, that day last year in the conference room where we had that meeting. I was taken by surprise.”

“How did you know me?”

“It was when you smiled. You have the same little dimple in your cheek that Sara has. Your grandfather had it too. It doesn’t sound like much, but I knew. I knew right away.”

Imogen sat rigid, and Ralph raised his head and looked at her, sensing tension. Then he took a sneaky look at Miles, jumped onto the sofa and sprawled across the two of them, his head on Imogen’s lap.

Miles rolled his eyes. “These were clean jeans,” he murmured, “but you just make yourself at home.”

Imogen rubbed the dog’s fur and Ralph thumped his tail and settled in for some serious attention.

Sara returned with a tray loaded with mugs of tea. She put it on the low coffee table that formed the centerpiece of the room.

“I shared some of our history with Imogen.” Miles took the mug Sara offered him with a smile of thanks. “I didn’t know who she was.”

Dorothy was still wondering how the two of them had met, but there would be time to discover more about that later. For now she needed to keep the focus on the things that needed to be said.

“There is a lot to say, so why don’t I start at the beginning.” It sounded logical, but identifying the beginning wasn’t easy. “Tina was my first child. Phillip and I doted on her. Perhaps a little too much—”

Sara sighed. “Mum—”

“I’m sorry. It’s impossible not to rake over every minute of the past and try and work out how things went so wrong. You convince yourself that there must have been something you did, or didn’t do.” She felt Sara’s hand pressing her knee, a gentle prompt that she should move on. And she was right. This conversation wasn’t about her failings as a parent. “Everything was normal until Sara arrived. From the moment she was born, Tina resented her, and nothing Phillip and I did seemed to change that. Everyone told us that older siblings often resented younger, and it was just a question of time and patience. We did everything we were advised to do. We made sure we gave Tina special time so that she didn’t feel pushed aside, we praised her, we encouraged her, we involved her. We thought that maybe we were getting somewhere, but then at five months old Sara contracted meningitis.” She rarely thought about it now, but at the time it had consumed them. “She was in hospital for a month and I was by her side almost constantly. I tried to make sure I saw Tina too, but it was hard. We thought we were going to lose Sara. I don’t want to linger on that part of the story, except to say that when we returned home, things were worse. Tina wouldn’t let me out of her sight, and she hated me spending even a moment of my time with Sara. We spoke to doctors and did everything they suggested, but nothing seemed to help.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sara muttered. “How could you possibly think it was your fault? The jealousy was there before I went into hospital. You said so yourself.”

“That’s true, but afterwards it was worse.” She turned her focus back to Imogen, reminding herself to try and stick to facts, not emotions. “We couldn’t leave her alone with Sara for a moment. I turned my back to take a phone call on one occasion—it was seconds, that was all—and when I looked back, Tina was holding a cushion over Sara’s face.” She stopped, conscious that this was Imogen’s mother she was talking about. “I’m sorry. This is so difficult. Maybe I should—”

“I want you to carry on.” Imogen’s voice was barely audible. “Please carry on.”

“We hoped that if we kept showing love and consistency, eventually she’d settle down, but she didn’t. She broke Sara’s toys, she shouted at her—that was the worst part. We never raised our voices, but Tina became verbally aggressive. It started to affect Sara. She was quiet at school, afraid to speak up or draw attention to herself. She hid in her bedroom if Tina was around.” Looking back now, she wondered how they’d got through it. It was funny how time had the ability to blunt the razor-sharp edges of pain. “We took Tina to a psychologist. He advised us to set firmer limits and hold her accountable for her behavior, but all that did was make her reject us more. Things got worse when she became a teenager. She stole from us, she lied, she skipped school and spent time with a crowd of kids older than her. Soon she was coming home drunk or high. Frequently, she’d stay out all night and we wouldn’t have a clue where she was. She was arrested for shoplifting, even though there was no reason for her to do that. I sometimes thought she chose to do the things she knew would worry us most.” She felt Sara’s hand on hers, squeezing.

“It’s okay, Mum.”

“Everyone said it was a teenage phase. That she was testing the limits. But she didn’t grow out of it. We considered moving to get her away from the people she hung around with, but in the end we decided that wasn’t fair on Sara, or indeed practical. This was our home, and also our business and there was no guarantee that moving would help.” She didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt Sara push a tissue into her hand. She blew her nose. “Phillip and I blamed ourselves, of course. We assumed there was something we must have done wrong.”

Sara inhaled sharply. “Mum—”

“The truth is we think we have a strong influence over who our children become, but perhaps we don’t. And that’s hard to accept. As a parent you tend to blame yourself for everything.” Dorothy took a deep breath. “She got pregnant and that seemed to calm her down. She never told us who the father was, and we didn’t push her. We were just so relieved that she was spending more time at home. She took a job in the local shop and worked until she had you. For a few months we were hopeful this was the beginning of a fresh start.”

Imogen stirred. “But it wasn’t.”

“You were a week old when she walked out.” It still stunned Dorothy. “She’d met someone, she said. And she was moving to London. She didn’t want to have any contact with us.” She stared down at her hands. She would rather have not relived this part. “We had a terrible argument. I said things—awful things, I admit it. I lectured her on responsibility. Told her that she had a child now and had to step up. I wish I’d handled it more sensitively. I wish I hadn’t said the things I said.”

“She still would have left,” Sara said quietly, “It would have made no difference. And she said awful things too. Truly awful.”

Dorothy glanced at Sara, both of them remembering.

“It was terrible, but we had to keep going because we had you. In the middle of all that stress and anguish, you were the joy. And you were such a sunny baby right from the beginning. We raised you as our own. You adored Sara. We tried to put you in your own room when you turned eighteen months, but you just wanted to sleep in the bed with Sara.”

“That’s true.” Sara gave a hesitant smile. “Wherever I was, there you were.”

“You used to wait by the door for Sara to come home from school.” Dorothy blinked several times. “Despite everything, it was a happy time. We were all settled. This was our life. And then four years later, a week before Christmas, Tina suddenly appeared with no warning and said she was taking you. She was in a new relationship, she was living in London and had a job. She picked you up, and oh, you were screaming—” Dorothy broke off. She could still hear those screams. Feel the anguish. “Tina was a stranger to you. You didn’t know her. You clung to Sara. I remember she was wearing a scarf around her neck and you almost strangled her because you just wouldn’t let go. We tried to talk to Tina, to persuade her to at least stay with us for a while and get to know you, but she said she didn’t want us judging her, and telling her where she was going wrong the whole time. I told her we wouldn’t judge her, we just wanted to support her, but she wouldn’t listen. She had a car waiting outside and she took you. Clothes, toys—she left them all behind.”

“She wouldn’t even take Bunny,” Sara said, and Imogen looked at her, confused.

“Bunny?”

“I gave it to you when you were born. You slept with it every night. You wouldn’t let us take it away long enough to wash it. I knew you wouldn’t sleep without it so I raced after her car, but she wouldn’t stop. I could hear you screaming in the back seat. It took a long time to get that scream out of my head.”

“Maybe we would have driven after her.” Dorothy kept talking. She knew that if she didn’t finish the story now, she never would. “I don’t know. But Phillip collapsed about half an hour after she drove off. Massive stroke.” She took another breath. “He had blood pressure problems, and the additional stress of losing you proved to be too much. He died after three days in the hospital and our whole world changed.”

“I’m sorry.” Imogen had tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Dorothy knew she couldn’t crumple. Not now. Not having come this far.

“I’ll keep this part short. We contacted social services and a lawyer. We didn’t even know where Tina lived. Where she’d taken you. Eventually, we did find her and we sent a message, letting her know that her dad had died. She didn’t respond.” And that had been the lowest point. She’d wondered then who Tina was, because she felt like a stranger. “She didn’t come to the funeral. It was an incredibly tough time. As well as processing the loss of your grandfather, and you, I was trying to keep the company going.”

“I honestly don’t know how you did it,” Sara murmured. “You were incredible.”

“You just do,” Dorothy said. “You get out of bed every day and do what needs to be done and mostly you don’t even know yourself how you’re doing it. It was weeks before we were able to focus on Tina properly. Anyway, social services decided you should stay with her. She was your mother and they saw no risk to you. She was in a steady relationship. Getting married.” She tried to keep her voice steady. Tried not to let the despair and upset of that time invade her words. “We tried to stay in your life. We visited once and you were so upset and confused. Tina decided she didn’t want us visiting at all. She said it unsettled you. That you needed to learn that your home was with her. And it’s true that seeing us did unsettle you, but I was never sure if that was more because you picked up Tina’s tension.”

“You were so little,” Sara said softly. “And you looked so confused by everything. It was horrible.”

Dorothy reached out and gave Sara’s hand a squeeze. “So we stayed away. We stayed away because that was what Tina demanded, but don’t think for a moment that it was easy. And I blamed myself. If I hadn’t spoken to her the way I did when she walked out that first time, maybe she would have seen us as a support instead of the enemy.”

Sara opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but then shook her head. “Go on.”

“I saw a lawyer.” Dorothy paused. “Did you know that grandparents have no automatic right to see their grandchildren? There are ways, but I decided that all the conflict wasn’t good for you. We agreed to take a step back. Tina promised she’d pass on letters, so I wrote to you every month, and on your fifth birthday Sara and I traveled to see you with presents and a cake, hoping that this might be the start of something more regular. Time had passed, we hoped things would be different, but Tina had taken you out. You weren’t there.”

“I wrote to you too.” Sara glanced at Dorothy, who nodded.

“Tina returned those letters. On your seventh birthday we turned up unannounced, hoping to see you. You were on your way to the park with Tina and a man who presumably was her husband. We tried to talk, but you didn’t recognize us and Tina wanted us to leave. She said she wanted a chance to make her own family, without us breathing over her. And that was it.”

“We kept writing to you,” Sara said. “But we never heard anything back.”

“And we assumed that if you wanted to make contact when you were older, then you’d do it. But you never did. And that’s fine,” Dorothy said quickly. “It was a difficult situation, I can see that. And we lived with it. We tried to accept it, although I thought about you constantly and wondered how you were doing. Sometimes I thought about reaching out again, but the fact that you hadn’t reached out to us made me think it wasn’t something you wanted. When you walked into the meeting room that day, I couldn’t believe it. I knew it was you.”

Imogen had been sitting frozen to the spot as she listened, but now she shook her head. “How could I have reached out? I didn’t know anything about you. And I didn’t see any letters.” Her voice sounded strange. “There were no letters. Whenever I asked my mother why we didn’t have family, she said you’d rejected her. She said you didn’t want us in your life.”

The sudden punch of emotion made it hard to breathe.

Even though Imogen had implied as much in the kitchen earlier, it was a struggle not to react. Dorothy reminded herself that this wasn’t about her, it was about Imogen. “I sent you money—”

“She must have kept it.” Imogen looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

Dorothy noticed the lack of surprise in Imogen’s voice. She sounded more resigned than shocked. World-weary and older than her years.

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your responsibility.” Dorothy was quick to reassure her. “And the money didn’t matter. What mattered was you. It breaks my heart that you thought we’d abandoned you.”

“That was what she told me.” Imogen was holding tightly to Ralph. “I thought I didn’t have a family.”

The words tore at Dorothy. “You do have a family, Imogen. You have a family who loves you very much and would like the chance to get to know you better. But that’s up to you, of course.” Her throat was so thickened by tears it was hard to speak, but she held the emotion back because she didn’t want to make this worse for Imogen. “We can’t do anything about the past, but we can do something about the future. You’ll have questions, I’m sure. You’ll want to think about what I’ve said. Perhaps you won’t believe—”

“I believe you. And I have a million questions, but perhaps for later. Not now.” Imogen looked exhausted, and Ralph lifted his head and licked her hand.

“You should have this.” Sara reached into her bag and pulled out a slightly battered stuffed bunny. “It’s yours.”

Dorothy stared at the familiar bunny. “Where did that come from?”

“Home. I asked Patrick to bring it for me when he came to take the girls. I thought it might—I don’t know.” Sara gave a helpless shrug. “It belongs to Imogen.”

Dorothy hid her surprise. She’d had no idea that Sara had kept the bunny. She knew her daughter had worked hard to block out memories of that time, but still she’d kept that bunny safe. A reminder of Imogen.

Imogen was staring at the toy on Sara’s lap, a strange expression on her face. Then she leaned forward and took the bunny from Sara.

“I remember this,” she said finally. “I didn’t think I had any memories of the time you’ve been talking about, but I remember this.”

Dorothy felt a surge of hope.

“You loved that bunny,” Sara said softly. “I wanted Tina to take him because I knew you’d be upset without it, but she said she’d buy you a new one.”

“I don’t remember a new one, but I remember this.” Imogen gazed at the bunny and then looked at them. “Can I keep this? For now?”

“Keep it forever. It’s yours.” Sara’s voice shook. “It has always been yours. I was just taking care of it.”

Imogen wedged the toy between her leg and the sofa. “I don’t want Ralph to eat it.”

“Neither do I,” Miles said dryly, “or I’ll be the one removing it from his stomach.”

Imogen smiled, as he no doubt intended, but then looked at Dorothy. “Thank you for your honesty. I’m sure that wasn’t easy to relive. And I owe you an apology. I was rude earlier. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know any of this, and I’m partly to blame for that.”

Sara sighed. “Mum—”

“I know.” Dorothy lifted a hand to stop her saying what she was about to say. “No blame.” Although she didn’t believe that of course. Not for a moment. She knew she was always going to blame herself, but she could do it quietly. “The past is what it is. I do hope you’ll stay, Imogen. Holly Cottage has always been a very happy place. It has been good to me. I hope it will be good to you, too.”

Imogen’s hand was gripping Ralph’s collar tightly. “You’re very kind—”

She was terrified, Dorothy thought. Terrified and overwhelmed.

“I know Ava and Iris would love to spend time with you.” Sara sounded tentative. “You are cousins, after all.”

“Cousins.” Imogen said the word as if it was foreign. “Yes, we are.”

Dorothy felt a rush of relief. She’d been afraid that Sara might hold herself back to protect herself, as she’d done so many times before. But she was reaching out, even if her approach was a little cautious and careful. It meant that she was thinking about a future, instead of focusing on the past.

“And you must get to know Patrick,” she said, and Sara nodded.

“Yes. We live about five minutes from here.”

Dorothy was aware that this must all seem like too much. Imogen had gone from believing she had no family to suddenly discovering she did indeed have family and that they were all keen to meet her and spend time with her.

“If you stay, you’ll have complete independence and you can come and go as you please. I don’t like to think of you on your own, though. I know all this is a lot to take in. But I’m just up the driveway.” She had a sudden inspiration. “And of course you’re welcome to have Ralph here whenever you want to. I’m sure Miles would appreciate the help when he’s out on calls. Wouldn’t you, Miles?”

To give him his due, Miles didn’t falter. “It would be a great help, if you’re sure it isn’t an imposition. Just while I find the rhythm of having a dog back in my life.”

Imogen looked at him and then at Dorothy.

“Ralph could stay with me? Here?”

“He seems rather attached to you.” Dorothy gave a faint smile, because that had to be the understatement of the century. “He’s probably feeling a bit lost with all these changes happening in his life.” Like you , she thought. “If you want to have him here with you and Miles doesn’t mind, I think that would be wonderful.”

She understood how comforting a dog could be. How healing all that unconditional love and affection. She respected Sara’s wish not to talk about the past, so whenever she felt the need she talked to Bailey.

Imogen wrapped her arms round the dog. “I’d love him to stay here with me occasionally. If you’re sure, Miles?”

“You’d be doing me a favor.”

Dorothy wanted to hug Miles. “There, that’s settled.”

Imogen still didn’t look convinced. “He’s very active. Your beautiful cottage—”

“Has had plenty of canine visitors.” Dorothy swiftly waved away that concern. She’d redecorate the entire place if she had to. It was the least of her worries. If Ralph was giving Imogen comfort, then he was welcome as far as she was concerned, even if he shredded the place. “I lived here for a while after Sara left for college. I was rattling around in the house, trying to find my bearings, so I decided I needed a change of scene. I hope you’ll be as happy here as I was.”

“Well, in that case, thank you.” Imogen turned to Miles. “Will it confuse Ralph if he spends some time here with me?”

“I don’t think so. It’s the people, as much as the place, and he has certainly taken a shine to you. I’ll have him when I’m not working and drop him off with you when I need to go out and about. I think it’s a great idea.” He reached out to rub Ralph’s ears, and Dorothy noticed that his fingers brushed against Imogen’s.

A thought crept into her head, but she immediately pushed it away. There would be no interfering from her. She was just grateful to Miles for his help and for making what should have been a difficult encounter much easier.

Imogen stroked Ralph. “I don’t actually know much about looking after dogs.”

“I know a lot,” Miles said, “so that will make us a good team. I’ll pop back home in a minute and bring you some things. But he likes you, and he feels safe with you, so that’s a start.”

“He can have Bailey’s spare basket.” Dorothy stood up. “And we have a few other things up at the house that we can bring down here. You missed lunch, Imogen. There’s cold chicken in your fridge, a fresh loaf on the side and chocolate cake in the tin.”

She was conscious that Sara probably wanted to join Patrick and the girls in the village for the party, but Sara showed no signs of rushing off.

She was studying the living room of the cottage.

“We need to decorate this place,” she said. “Starting with a tree. Do you have a favorite type?”

“A favorite type of Christmas tree?” Imogen looked blank. “Er—no. I’ve never had a real tree before. It’s never really been an important time of year for me. I always find it difficult, although last year I did put a set of lights on my plant. It’s fake, so I didn’t singe the leaves or anything. And I treated myself to a turkey pizza, although it was a bit gross, to be honest.”

A set of lights on my plant.

A turkey pizza.

Dorothy felt a pang. “You don’t spend Christmas with your mother?”

“Tina? No. Not since I left home for college. We don’t really—” Imogen paused. “Family get-togethers aren’t really our thing.”

Dorothy thought about the many family occasions when Tina had refused to leave her room and join them.

She tried not to think about how many Christmases Imogen must have spent alone.

“Christmas is very much our thing, so I think it’s past time you learned what it means to go completely over-the-top at Christmas.” She didn’t add that they’d worked very hard to make Christmas their thing after that awful Christmas years ago. “I happen to know a couple of experts in tree hunting. Sara? Didn’t Ava suggest that Imogen should join you tomorrow?”

She wondered if she’d gone too far issuing that invitation, but Sara smiled.

“She did. What do you think, Imogen? Do you fancy joining our crazy, family tree-finding trip? It usually involves Patrick complaining that the tree is too big and then the girls begging him until finally he relents. And we end up with a tree that scrapes the ceiling. But we go to a farm where they grow their own trees, and there’s hot chocolate and it’s all very festive.” Sara paused, suddenly uncertain. “No pressure, obviously. If it all feels like too much and you’d rather have a quiet day, that’s fine.”

“I’d love to come,” Imogen said quickly. “But I wouldn’t want to leave Ralph.”

“Bring Ralph! The girls would love having him there. And Miles—” Sara turned to him “—if you’re free tomorrow, why don’t you come too?”

“For once I’m free, and the answer is yes. I can help Imogen transport the tree home. You and Patrick will already have a full car with the girls and trees.”

“Come to the house for dinner after, all of you.” Dorothy was already planning. She’d make it special. Festive. And later perhaps, when Imogen was a little more used to them, she’d invite her to spend Christmas Day with them. She wanted to make up for all those Christmases Imogen had missed. No more fake plants. No more turkey pizza.

Her spirits lifted.

A few hours ago she never would have predicted this outcome, but now she was feeling ridiculously hopeful. This wasn’t about the past, it was about the future.

There was still much to unravel, of course. Still so much to work out and discover. She wasn’t going to pretend that any of this was going to be easy. They didn’t really know Imogen, and she didn’t know them. But the fact that Imogen was staying and planning on joining Sara for a Christmas tree trip, was all good. It gave them a chance. A way forward.

And what better time of year was there to bring a family together than at Christmas?