The Holiday Cottage

18

Imogen

“ I don’t normally share a bed with someone just a few hours after I met them, but you’re just so easy to talk to. I’ve never met anyone I connected with so quickly. It’s as if you know exactly how I’m thinking and feeling. I am so, so glad I met you right in my moment of need.” Imogen blew her nose and snuggled under the duvet. She’d lit the fire in the bedroom and it glowed cheerily in the semi darkness. She could have put the light on, but it was easier to talk in the dark.

She hadn’t pulled the curtains, and she could see the soft fall of snowflakes drifting white and silver against the midnight blue sky.

“I’m sorry to go on and on about it, but it’s been a bit of an upsetting day, that’s all. Talking about it helps me process it. Is that okay? The truth is I feel betrayed. How could my mother have lied about her family? I want to believe there has been some horrible mistake, but I know there hasn’t been. And I feel so mixed-up about it. Part of me is really angry, because she basically made the decision to deprive us both of family. And part of me is sad because although I’ve done okay, and actually I’m pretty proud of who I am and what I’ve achieved, it has been hard—” Her voice cracked and she felt him press closer to her. She appreciated the silent comfort. “There have been times when it has been really hard, and knowing now that it didn’t have to be that way is really tough to deal with. I could have had Dorothy and Sara in my life the whole time. Family. I almost can’t think about that because it’s too upsetting. Why did she do it? Don’t bother answering that. I don’t understand my mother, so I certainly don’t expect you to. But it’s outrageous, don’t you think?”

Also mystifying, because unless there was some side to Dorothy and Sara that she wasn’t seeing, they were good people. Why on earth wouldn’t her mother want them in her life? It made no sense at all.

They’d seemed so nervous when they were talking to her, and she knew she was partly to blame for that, because she’d yelled at them when she’d seen the photo. The whole thing had been such a shock.

But once she’d calmed down and listened to what they had to say, she’d known instinctively that they were telling the truth. And it wasn’t all instinct. Some of it was experience. She knew her mother lied when it suited her. She’d lied to Imogen on plenty of occasions. It just had never occurred to her before that her mother would have lied about this.

“Also it doesn’t make a lot of sense. In that last horrible meeting, the one that resulted in me almost losing my job, she told me I was the worst thing that had ever happened in her life.” Saying the words aloud was actually harder than she would have imagined. “But if that’s true, then why wouldn’t she have jumped at the chance to leave me with my grandmother? That would have been the perfect solution, wouldn’t it?”

She saw nothing but sympathy in his eyes and pulled him closer.

“You’re a brilliant listener. Most people judge, or you know they’re just going to go and gossip about what you’ve told them, but you listen and sympathize. You really care, I can tell.” She looked at him and met his gaze. “I shouldn’t be letting you sleep in my bed, I know that. There are probably going to be consequences, but I don’t care. Being with you makes me feel better, and for now that’s all that matters. And how can something that feels so right possibly be wrong?”

Her phone rang and she reached for it and checked the number. “It’s Miles. I’d better take this. Do not make a sound!”

Ralph thumped his tail on the bed and put his paw on her arm.

“Hi, Miles, are you okay? How is the sick cow?”

“He’s going to be fine, but the whole thing took longer than I thought it would.” His voice sounded distant and she could tell he was driving. “I assume you’ve already gone to bed. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No. I was just lying here thinking about today.”

“I can imagine. That’s why I called, really. Wanted to check you’re okay. You had a difficult day.”

“I’m fine.” She put her hand on Ralph’s head.

“You’re sure?”

She was touched that he cared. The truth was he was almost as easy to talk to as his dog. “Yes. It’s been great having Ralph here. He’s a real distraction. Thanks for letting me borrow him.”

“You did me a favor. I couldn’t take him on my call. I was going to pick him up on my way home, but is it too late?”

She felt something close to panic. No way did she want to lose Ralph. Not tonight. “I’ve already settled him down for the night, so why don’t you just come here tomorrow for our Christmas tree trip and pick him up then. It seems a shame to disturb him.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“It’s fine.” It was a relief to know Ralph was staying. “Come early if you like and I’ll cook you breakfast.”

“Sounds good. And thanks, Imogen.”

“You’re welcome.”

“One thing—whatever you do, don’t let him sleep on the bed.”

Imogen stroked Ralph, who was very much awake on the bed. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t. I only mentioned it because if he thinks that’s okay he will try and sleep in my bed, and that’s not going to happen. Nothing is guaranteed to stifle your sex life as a dog in the bed.”

She laughed, but part of her was curious. “Your girlfriend doesn’t like animals?”

“Currently single because, in fact, it turned out that my last girlfriend did not particularly like animals. She especially didn’t like the fact they had a tendency to get ill in the middle of the night, resulting in my frequent absences. How about you?”

His willingness to share personal information so freely made her feel better about the fact he already knew more about her than anyone else.

“Me?” She pulled Ralph closer. “I like animals.”

He laughed. “Sleep well, Imogen. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

And she was. Who would have thought she could actually have smiled after the day she’d had? It was mostly down to Ralph, of course. Nothing to do with Miles, even if he did have kind eyes and a good sense of humor.

Oh, who was she kidding?

Grinning, she put her phone back on charge and picked up the herbal tea she’d made before coming up to bed.

“You’re not supposed to sleep in the bed, but surely one night isn’t going to hurt. Don’t tell him, will you?”

Ralph thumped his tail and snuggled down with his head on his paws.

“I did try and get you to sleep in your basket. But that didn’t really work out, did it?”

She’d put his basket under the window in her bedroom so she could see him. He’d sat in it for less than a minute, looking hurt and sorry for himself, before joining her on the bed. He’d tried to do it stealthily, perhaps hoping she wouldn’t notice, but stealth and bouncy retrievers didn’t really go together, and his efforts had made her smile.

She knew she probably should have sent him back to his basket, but she’d been feeling horrible after the conversation with Dorothy and Sara, and she’d found the warmth of his solid body unbelievably reassuring. No wonder all her colleagues were crazy about their dogs. She’d had no idea a dog could be such a perfect companion.

She took a few photos of him, just so that she had something to remember him by when she was back in London.

She didn’t want to think about being back in London. Nor did she want to think about her mother. She was so tired of it all.

She turned her head and looked at the stuffed bunny Sara had given her, now on her nightstand.

As ridiculous as it sounded, that bunny felt like a connection between the past and the present.

Ralph whined, and she shifted her attention from bunny to dog.

“We should get some sleep. Christmas tree hunting tomorrow.” And she already felt nervous about it. They might be her family, but she didn’t really know these people and they didn’t know her. What if they didn’t like her? There were no rules that said family members had to like each other, her mother’s behavior was evidence of that. “Not sure I’m looking forward to it that much to be honest, but at least you’ll be there. And Miles. That should help.” She put the tea down and snuggled under the covers.

Ralph had apparently decided he’d done enough listening for one night and was already asleep with no sign of guilt or regret that he was on the bed.

Imogen had no expectations of getting any sleep at all after the activities of the day, but she closed her eyes and next time she opened them it was morning and Ralph was scratching at the door.

Bleary-eyed, Imogen glanced at her phone. “I cannot believe I slept all night!”

Ralph wasn’t interested in her sleep patterns. He whined, and she forced herself out of bed and pulled a sweater over the T-shirt she’d worn to bed.

“I’m going to let you out into the garden right now.” She grabbed socks and followed him down the stairs into the kitchen.

The floor was warm underfoot and she opened the back door. Snow covered the trees and the garden, glinting like sugar crystals in the weak sunlight.

The cold snaked its way into the cottage, and she wished she’d taken the time to find her jeans or better still, the fleece-lined leggings that she’d packed.

She let Ralph out and pulled on socks and her fur-lined boots. Then she stood in the doorway shivering and watched Ralph investigate his new surroundings, his explorations leaving paw prints in pristine snow. The garden of the cottage was surrounded by a high wall, making it both private and safe, but still she watched Ralph carefully. He was her responsibility, and she didn’t want him to come to any harm, although right now she was the one risking frostbite.

“Hurry up, Ralph!” Her teeth were chattering. “Otherwise I’m going to be greeting Miles in my nightwear.”

“I have no problem with that, so don’t rush on my account.” Miles’s voice drifted over the garden gate, and Ralph barked with delight and sped across to him.

Imogen was conscious of her bare legs and the fact that her T-shirt stopped at midthigh. The sweater she’d pulled on was almost as long. It certainly wouldn’t have been her first choice of outfit for a meeting with Miles.

Why hadn’t she heard the car? “You’re early.”

“We didn’t exactly fix a time, so I can’t be early.” He bent to make a fuss of the dog. “Someone seems to have enjoyed his sleepover. Was he good? Did he behave himself and sleep in his basket?”

“He was perfect.” She evaded the question. “We both slept late, which is why there was a bit of a rush to let him out.” And she was still surprised by that. She never slept through the night, but last night she had.

“Sleeping late is good. I bet you needed it after yesterday.” He straightened and scanned her bare legs. “That is a cute look.”

“Ralph was desperate. Obviously, I had planned to get dressed before I saw you.”

“Don’t rush on my account.” He gave her a slow smile and she felt that smile right down to her bones.

“If you make the coffee, I’ll go and dress in something warmer.”

“Probably a good idea. Christmas tree hunting definitely can’t be done with bare legs.” He encouraged Ralph into the house. “I’ll get breakfast started.”

She didn’t argue.

Ten minutes later she was showered and dressed in warm clothes. Before joining Miles, she quickly straightened her bed and rumpled the blanket in Ralph’s basket to make it look as if he’d slept there just in case anyone checked.

At least dogs didn’t drop earrings or other personal items that might give away their presence.

She walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the delicious smells of bacon and fresh coffee. Through the windows she could see snow glistening on the trees.

“I love this room.”

“I love it too. Any room that has food in it is always my favorite room.” Miles was standing in front of the stove frying bacon. He’d slung his coat over the chair and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

As he had his back to her, Imogen allowed herself a moment to study him. She was glad Janie wasn’t around. Smoking hot , she would have said, and Imogen would have struggled to disagree, but she knew the attraction went much deeper than that. He was strong and capable and, most important of all, kind.

“Can I help?”

“Everything is in hand. I was going to make you a healthy bowl of oats, but then I spotted the bacon Dorothy left in your fridge. You won’t have tasted anything like this. Organic, grass-fed—” He forked a few crispy strands onto slices of bread and put the plate in front of her. “Try it. And don’t say you’re not hungry because Christmas tree hunting is hard work, particularly when it involves Ava. That girl knows what she wants and she is not going to stop until she finds it. This could be the last meal you have for a while. This trip could take until Christmas Eve, so you need fuel.”

“She seems like a real character.” She sat down and bit into the sandwich. “Oh that’s delicious—”

“Isn’t it?” He sat down next to her, and Ralph settled himself by Imogen’s chair.

There was something strangely intimate about sitting here together sharing breakfast. It should have felt uncomfortable, but oddly enough it didn’t.

He picked up his mug and then put it down again. “You’re looking at me in a funny way. What’s wrong?”

She put her sandwich down. “I’m thinking that I don’t do this.”

“Eat bacon? I know it’s not something one is supposed to do often, but moderation in all things I always say. Particularly when I’m justifying something I want to do.”

“Not the bacon. You. This. Breakfast.”

“You don’t eat breakfast? That’s a shocking habit, Imogen.” He gave her a reproving look. “It’s the most important meal of the day.”

She smiled because she knew he was deliberately misunderstanding her.

“I mean having breakfast with a man I met just the day before.”

“Yes, well, it was a pretty intense day. And now we share custody of a dog—” he glanced at Ralph “—so that brings us together.”

Her heart gave a little skip. “We’re going to have him every other night and every other weekend?”

“That is yet to be worked out, but I’m hoping we can keep the lawyers out of it.” He took a mouthful of coffee. “How’s the bacon sandwich?”

“Incredible. I suppose you make breakfast for women all the time.”

“Hardly ever. I don’t even make it for myself that often.”

“So what did I do to deserve this?”

He put his mug down. “I thought you needed fuel for the trip ahead. Also company, because I didn’t want you sitting here all alone eating a lonely bowl of cereal and worrying about whether the day is going to be awkward or not.”

And that, of course, was exactly what she would have been doing.

“That’s why you arrived early? For moral support?” She couldn’t forget the fact that he’d stayed with her the day before, when there were probably a hundred other things he could have been doing with what seemed to be a rare day off. “You’re probably thinking I’m the most high-maintenance woman you’ve ever met.”

“No.” He held her gaze. “But you’re definitely the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

She swallowed. “Me?”

“Yes. When I stopped my car next to you yesterday you were shocked and upset—presumably because you’d just found out that Dorothy was your grandmother—and the last thing you wanted was company. You didn’t want to get in my car, but then you saw Ralph and you climbed in so that you could help.”

“That doesn’t make me brave. It makes me a sucker for a dog in need.”

“Maybe it’s both. But when we’d finished sorting out Ralph, you could have gone home, back to London, but you agreed to hear what Dorothy and Sara had to say, and none of that made easy listening. I kept thinking that if that was me, I probably would have walked out because it would have felt like too much, but you sat there and let them say what they needed to say. Not only that, but you accepted what they said as the truth when it would have been easier to deny the whole thing. Not easy to deal with something that difficult.”

She thought back to the day before.

There had been a moment, after Miles had told her his version of the story, when she almost had left.

“Leaving would have been the easy decision. No difficult conversations.” But she’d known that if she did that, if she walked away and blamed her family for everything that had happened, she’d be denying the truth. She’d be turning herself into a victim like her mother. She’d stay locked in the past, instead of moving forward. It would make her life feel less real, and after embracing fake for so long, she badly needed her life to feel real.

She’d thought about what she’d said to her mother in the hospital that day.

You choose to blame me for everything instead of taking responsibility for your own bad choices.

“I knew that however hard it was, I needed to hear their side of the story. Give them a chance to explain.”

He nodded and took another bite of sandwich. “So, as I said, brave.”

“Having Ralph there was good.” She hesitated. “And having him there meant you stayed too, and that also helped.”

“I didn’t stay because of Ralph.”

She felt her heart thud a little harder. “Miles—”

“And even after that conversation, you could have left. You could have told them that you needed time to digest everything they’d told you, but you didn’t. Sara invited you to join them and you could have said no, but you didn’t.” He finished his coffee. “I’m guessing today is going to be a bit overwhelming for you.”

She opened her mouth to issue a denial, but instead found herself telling the truth. “I’m a bit nervous, that’s true. Scared.” She expected him to be flippant, or make another joke, but his gaze was serious.

“What scares you the most?”

Where to start? “I suppose the fact that they don’t know me. What if they don’t like me? My mother obviously hurt them a great deal, and I feel responsible.”

He frowned. “Imogen—”

“I know that’s illogical, but sometimes it’s possible to feel things even if you know it’s not logical.”

“I can tell you without a doubt that however nervous you are, Dorothy and Sara are equally nervous, if not more so.”

“More? That’s not possible.”

“They lost you,” he said softly. “They’re probably terrified of losing you again.”

Was that what they’d thought when she’d walked out the day before? That they’d lost her? “They lost me because of my mother. That’s not going to happen again.”

“Maybe not in the same way, but see it from their point of view—” He paused. “You’re an independent woman with a busy life. Maybe you don’t have room in that life for family. Maybe you’ll enjoy a few weeks at Holly Cottage, share a few meals with them and then take off back to London and send a Christmas card every year. I know plenty of families who barely see each other from year to year.”

She felt something shift inside her. “That’s not going to happen. And I’ve never sent Christmas cards, so I don’t suppose I’ll start now.”

“But they don’t know that. It must have been very hard for Dorothy to work with you for so long and not tell you who she was. I’m guessing that was partly because she was afraid it might all blow up and she’d lose you.”

She’d been angry that Dorothy hadn’t told her the truth right away, but she could see now that it wasn’t that simple. “I’m glad in a way that I got to know her a little bit before I found out.”

“And now you’re going to get to know her properly.” He finished his coffee. “All right, let’s make a deal. If you want to bail at any point the code word is—” he paused for a moment “—fir tree.”

“Code word?”

“Yes. If it’s all too much, you say the word and I’ll make an excuse and we’ll leave.”

She was touched. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. Just say the word.”

She smiled. “Fir tree is two words. Also, I assume we’re going to be looking at a lot of fir trees so maybe we should pick something different.”

“Good point. I’m willing to admit that code words might not be my strength. You choose.”

She probably should have said that there was no need for a code word, but she actually liked the idea of being able to escape if she felt the need. “How about we say we’re going to visit Valerie, to put her mind at rest about Ralph?”

“Great idea. An even better idea would be to actually visit Valerie. She’d like to meet you, I’m sure. And it will make her feel better to see how happy Ralph is. Right. That’s agreed. If you say ‘don’t we need to visit Valerie?’ I’ll know I need to do a rapid exit.” He paused. “But you’re going to be fine, Imogen.”

“I hope you’re right.” She looked at Ralph. “I’m glad he’s going to be there.”

“Hey, I’ll be there too. And I’ll be more support than Ralph.”

“You think?” She tried to make light of it. “Ralph offers a lot of support. He’s very emotionally intuitive.”

Miles grinned. “No, that’s just him knowing you’re the last person who fed him.”

Flustered by his smile, she stood up and cleared both plates. “Thanks for breakfast. I suppose we should leave? How long will it take to get there?”

“About half an hour if the roads aren’t too bad. It’s a pretty place.”

“Sounds great.” Part of her wished she could just spend the day here, with Miles and Ralph. Maybe go for a walk in the country (dressed appropriately this time, of course, and also with someone who hopefully knew the way), or to explore the village.

He picked up his coat and produced a lead for Ralph. “You’ll like it. It’s very festive.”

Usually, she avoided festive because it made her imagine a life she was missing, but today she was actually stepping into that life. How many times had she imagined what it must be like to choose a tree with family? Many times, and today she was going to do it.

“I’ve never done Christmassy things before. I’m looking forward to it.”

She intended to embrace it. Even if it turned out that they just didn’t have anything in common, that it was too hard to forge a relationship when so much lay between them, she should make the most of this moment.

She’d always wanted a family and it turned out she’d had one all along, so was she really going to turn down the chance to get to know them just because she was nervous of the outcome?

No, she wasn’t.

And in the end it was much easier than she’d predicted, mostly because of Ava.

“The first rule of finding a tree is that it has to be big.” Ava held tightly to Imogen’s hand and tugged her from tree to tree. She was wearing a pink padded jacket and green boots and her ponytail poked out from under her warm hat. “I like the ones that smell. Do you like the ones that smell?”

“I don’t know. I’m relying on you to advise me.”

“What’s advise ?”

“It means you tell me what you think I should do.”

“Oh.” Ava brightened. “I can definitely do that.”

“She definitely can,” Iris said as she walked past with her hand in Patrick’s. “Another word for it would be bossy .”

“I’m not bossy. Oh, look !”

Imogen almost lost her balance as Ava suddenly hauled her toward a tree on their right.

“Ava—” Sara reached out and rescued the scarf that was threatening to abandon contact with Ava’s neck “—you can’t just drag Imogen everywhere.”

“Why not? We’re having fun.”

“I know you’re having fun and that’s great,” Sara said, “but maybe have fun a little more gently.”

Watching Sara interact with her children brought a lump to Imogen’s throat. She was so warm, loving and patient. She would never send a child away if she’d had a bad dream.

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.

What would her life have been like if her mother hadn’t taken her away?

She snapped herself out of that thought. What was the point in going there? All they had was now, and hopefully the future. The past was gone, and she wasn’t going to let it contaminate the present.

But she wondered, maybe, if Sara’s and Dorothy’s warmth and strong sense of family had somehow seeped into her, even though she had no memories of it. Were those early days of security and safety part of the reason she had remained so steadfastly loyal to her mother?

The question vanished from her head as her arm was almost pulled from its socket by Ava.

“This one!” Ava didn’t like being reined in.

“Ava!” Sara sounded exasperated. “Stop pulling Imogen.”

“I wasn’t exactly pulling her. It’s just that I wanted her to walk faster. I like her, Mummy.”

“I know you do. We all like her, but we don’t want her to fall on her bottom on the ice, otherwise she won’t like us! And she won’t want to come with us next time.” Sara secured the scarf and gave Imogen an apologetic smile. “She is so excited. So is Iris. We all are, to be honest. I hope you’re not finding us too overwhelming.”

We all like her.

“It’s wonderful.” She realized that Sara was as nervous as she was, and she was grateful to Ava, who was so open and accepting and blissfully unaware of the potential for awkwardness. Ava’s total absence of emotional caution somehow made the whole situation easier. “You do this every year?”

“Yes. It’s one of our favorite family traditions. I did it with my parents, and so did Patrick, so I suppose it was a natural thing to repeat it with our own children. It’s something we all look forward to.”

Bored with listening to adult conversation, Ava skipped ahead to take a look at another tree.

Family tradition.

Imogen wanted to ask if her mother had done it too. If she’d joined in the Christmas tree trip, but she didn’t want to risk killing the mood by mentioning her.

“Tina never joined us,” Sara said softly. “She hated family trips. She was happier spending time with her friends.”

Imogen wondered how she’d known what she was thinking. “That must have been hard on you all.”

Sara shrugged, her gaze fixed on Ava. “It’s life, isn’t it? You make the most of the parts that are right, and do what you can about the parts that aren’t so great. I suppose we got used to not having her with us for things like this. We accepted it.” She glanced at Imogen. “And that probably made things worse. No one forced her to join us, but by not joining us it just deepened the divisions. Maybe we should have tried harder.”

The others had strolled ahead, and Imogen saw Patrick lift Ava onto his shoulders so that she could get a better look at the trees.

Miles was talking to Iris, who was holding tightly to Ralph’s lead.

It was a perfect family scene, but not in a million years could she picture her mother here.

“You can’t make someone do what they don’t want to do.”

“No.” Sara smiled. “That is very true. I remind myself of that every day when I struggle to get Ava to bed.”

“The girls are close.”

“Yes. And obviously Patrick and I hope they always will be. We encourage them to look out for each other and be thoughtful, but the truth is their affection is genuine and natural.”

Imogen had always thought it would be nice to have had a sibling, but she found herself wondering how it must feel to have a sibling who wanted nothing to do with you.

Parts of her life hadn’t been easy, but that was true of Sara too. And also Dorothy.

“Would you tell me a little about your childhood?” Sara was hesitant. “I’ve lain awake at nights wondering where you were and if you were okay. Was it bad, Imogen?”

Bad.

How was she supposed to answer that? Her instinct was to lie. To put a gloss on it. She was used to disguising her past. To hiding it. To inventing a life that made her fit in and made others comfortable.

But there was no point in doing that now. This was Sara, and Sara knew Tina. There was no need for fake dogs or fake boyfriends or a fake family. Sara was her real family, and she already knew much of the truth.

“Sometimes it was difficult. Tina didn’t want to be a mother, so she wasn’t very hands-on or involved—” She was surprised how good it felt not to have to pretend or put on an act. To just tell the truth and be who she was for a change. Acknowledge her life instead of spinning a fictional version.

“I noticed yesterday that you called her Tina. Why?”

“She insisted on it. Firstly, I think it meant she could pretend she wasn’t a mother, and secondly because she liked to present herself as a young, single person with no ties.”

It was where she’d first learned that it was possible to invent a life. After all, wasn’t that what Tina had done?

Sara listened. “What happened to the guy she was with the last time we saw you?”

“Terry.” Imogen had good memories of Terry. “He was kind. He used to read to me. But they weren’t happy together. I was too young to understand the detail, but they had a lot of fights and eventually he left.” And she hadn’t blamed him. She remembered wishing that she could have left too. “They divorced. She didn’t have a long relationship after that. Men came and went.”

“Did you stay in touch with Terry?”

“He moved abroad. He sent the odd postcard, but that didn’t last long. He wasn’t really the type to write letters. And I suppose it was awkward. He built a new life, and I wasn’t part of that.”

“It must have been difficult for you.”

“Sometimes.” There was plenty she could have told Sara, but how was that going to help? Sara was trying to build a bridge between them, not probing for dark details. Maybe she’d talk about it one day, but this wasn’t the time. “It wasn’t so bad. It made me self-reliant and that’s a good thing.” She made a point of always trying to find the positive. Focus on the things she could influence. Not because she was some ridiculously naive optimist, but because it helped. If you turned the spotlight onto the good, if you were lucky the dark stuff faded into the background.

“You’ve done so well,” Sara said. “You should be proud of yourself. Do you have anyone special in your life?”

“No.” Imogen stared at the trees, at the snow and the peek of ice blue in the sky. “My fault. I’m not that good at getting close to people.” Was she even capable of it? She’d never had a relationship where she was truly herself. She showed people what she wanted them to see, and she was miserly with the information she shared. She’d learned to rely on herself from an early age and she’d spent her life protecting herself, careful not to make herself vulnerable. Was she able to lower her guard sufficiently to get close to someone?

Her gaze slid to Miles, who was listening intently to Ava.

She thought about how easily she’d talked to him the day before, and how comfortable she’d felt with him when he’d cooked her breakfast earlier. He already knew more about her than anyone else in her life.

And that made her feel nervous, as if she’d been wearing a costume that had suddenly been stripped away from her.

Sara gave her arm a squeeze and leaned closer so that only Imogen could hear her. “You can trust him.”

“Oh!” Was she that transparent? She felt herself blush. “I wasn’t—I mean—”

“I know. I’m just saying he’s fantastic, in case you were wondering.” It was Sara’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine.” Imogen looked at her. “I’m not used to having conversations like this, that’s all.”

“Then it’s probably good to practice on someone like me, so that when it gets to someone important, you’re already an expert.”

“You’re important.”

“But I’m family,” Sara said. “You can say anything to me. There is no wrong thing. You don’t have to watch your words or protect yourself.”

“Family.” The word felt unfamiliar on her lips. “I suppose I haven’t really got used to the idea yet.”

“I know. It feels strange, doesn’t it? Being related and yet barely knowing each other. I suppose the answer is just to relax and spend time in each other’s company and not overthink it. And Christmas is a great time for that, of course.” Sara’s voice softened. “But I want you to know that you can talk to me. About anything, at any time. I’m here for you, Imogen. It’s important to me that you know that. Even when you’re back in London. If you want to talk to someone, just pick up the phone.”

No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Never offered that level of support. And she knew Sara was genuine. She’d seen the way she was with the girls, with Patrick and with Dorothy. Even the fact that she’d come to talk to Imogen, given how badly Tina had upset her, was a measure of how loyal she was.

Tears scalded her eyes. “Thank you.”

“I mean it. This must be so difficult for you, and it’s important that you can talk to someone you trust, and you can trust me. I wish I’d been there for you through your whole life—your wise old aunt, giving you advice you probably didn’t want. Knitting you sweaters that didn’t fit.” Sara grinned. “Just kidding. I can’t knit to save my life so you’re safe. No lumpy Santa sweaters from me this Christmas, I promise.”

Despite the emotion, Imogen laughed too. She thought about all the difficult times she’d dealt with on her own. She could have called Sara. “There were definitely occasions when a wise old aunt would have been helpful.”

She thought about the last thing her mother had said to her.

Go and live out your happy family fantasy somewhere else.

If she’d known, she could have done that.

“I feel angry.” The words tumbled out, surprising her. “Angry that she lied. And I feel guilty about that.”

“I don’t think you have any reason to feel guilty. I’m angry too,” Sara said. “And I’m sure my mother—your grandmother—feels the same way, although she might not admit it. She is more generous and forgiving than I am, but maybe that’s because she is Tina’s mother. Maybe it’s hard to give up on a child and accept them for who they are. I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either. And I don’t understand why she did what she did.”

“I’m no psychologist, but I think she always felt inadequate somehow. As if she didn’t fit.” Sara watched as Miles lifted Ava onto his shoulders. “Will you talk to her about it?”

“I don’t know. Our last encounter wasn’t great.” It was an understatement, but she didn’t intend to share the details of that, particularly not today. “I’ll think about it.”

Sara slid her arm through Imogen’s. “I can’t do anything about the past, but I’m here now. Whatever may have gone before, we’re family, Imogen, and we’re part of your life now. Remember that.”

Family. The word made her dizzy.

Her mother considered it a fantasy, and yet standing here with Sara by her side, it felt real for the first time.

“Come on,” Ava yelled at them across the frozen landscape, and Sara laughed.

“You may yet live to wish you hadn’t rediscovered your family.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“We’d better focus on the tree or we’ll be told off by my exceptionally bossy daughter. We have all the time in the world to catch up. Also Ralph is watching you anxiously. Let’s enjoy our day.”

Imogen’s phone rang at that moment and she pulled it out of her pocket and checked the number.

Tina.

No way. The happiness that had filled her a moment earlier rushed out of her like air from a punctured balloon.

Why was she calling? After everything that had happened the last time they’d met, all those awful things she’d said, why would she want to speak to Imogen?

She stared at the screen and felt Sara’s gaze on her.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Imogen rejected the call and put the phone back in her pocket. “It’s just work.”

“Right.” Sara gave her a long look, and Imogen felt a pressure in her chest.

“Actually, it wasn’t work. It was Tina. And I have no idea why she is calling. The last time we met she virtually told me she didn’t want anything more to do with me, so something must have happened. She probably needs money.” The moment she said the words, she felt Sara’s shock.

“Oh, Imogen—” Sara stepped a little closer. “Does this happen often? Her calling you for money?”

“It happens. Don’t worry, I don’t give her money anymore, but I do sometimes pay her rent or pay for repairs.” She waited for Sara to tell her what a fool she was, but she didn’t.

“She knows just how to manipulate, doesn’t she? She behaves badly, but somehow you’re the one left feeling awful.”

“That’s it exactly.” And the fact that Sara knew how she felt made it all a little easier. For the first time in her life she felt as if she wasn’t alone with it.

“Do you want to talk to her? We can give you privacy.” Sara hesitated. “Or I could talk to her for you if you prefer.”

Imogen looked at Sara. “You’d do that?”

“If it would help you, yes, although I can’t guarantee to be as generous as you are. I might say something rude and regrettable, but that wouldn’t be your responsibility.”

Despite everything, Imogen smiled because she simply couldn’t picture Sara being rude to anyone.

She was about to say as much, but then her phone rang again.

Her gaze met Sara’s briefly, and then she turned her attention back to her phone and switched it off.

There were plenty of things she couldn’t change and couldn’t control, but she could control whether or not she spoke to her mother.

“This is my first family trip to buy a Christmas tree. I’m not going to let her spoil that.”

Sara studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Good decision. So let’s do it. Let’s choose a Christmas tree. I should brief you on the family rules and tradition. You choose a tree that is far too big for the space. Completely impractical. And then you let Patrick point that out.”

“And then what?” She pushed back against the dark cloud that had threatened to engulf her. “You back down?”

Sara smiled. “What do you think?”

“I think that against the three of you the man doesn’t stand a chance.”

“You are so right.”

They walked toward Ava, and Imogen reflected on how much easier a problem was to handle when you had someone you could share it with.

At some point she’d have to think about how she was going to deal with her mother, but right now she was surrounded by snow and laughter and Ava’s excitement, and she didn’t want to waste a moment of this experience thinking about her mother, or the past.

It could all wait.