The Holiday Cottage

21

Imogen

“ Y ou haven’t told me where we’re going.” Imogen grabbed her thick coat and her hat and gloves. Miles was leaning against the front door, waiting for her.

“I thought you’d be ready. Am I early?”

“No, I’m running behind. I overslept. Again.” The sun was shining, but she knew it was bitterly cold outside. “It’s becoming a habit.”

She’d gone from barely sleeping at all to sleeping deeply. And she’d started to wonder whether Rosalind might have been right. Maybe she had been on the edge of burnout. Over the past few days the knot of tension in her stomach had eased, and that feeling that she was running full speed ahead with nothing in the tank had disappeared. She no longer had thoughts of work racing around her head. She didn’t scribble on notepads in the dark or send herself emails at three in the morning. There was no one to manage, no deadlines to meet and no to-do list waiting for her. She switched her phone off in the evening and didn’t look at it again until the morning.

And she slept. She didn’t know if it was the comfortable bed, or the way the soft down duvet wrapped itself around her, or the lack of city noise, but it felt as if she’d had more sleep over the past few nights than she had over the past year. Even the two missed calls from her mother hadn’t been enough to keep her awake.

So far she hadn’t responded, and she wasn’t sure whether she was going to.

She was upset and confused. Also, angry. She needed time to calm down a little and think carefully about how she wanted to handle it.

With an effort, she pushed that thought out of her mind. She wasn’t going to think about it now. She was going to enjoy her day with Miles, and she was not going to allow her mother to spoil that.

After the Christmas tree trip and dinner at Dorothy’s, Miles had dropped her back at Holly Cottage. There had been a few breathless moments when she’d wondered whether to invite him in, but then she’d lost her nerve and simply given him a hug and then made a fuss of Ralph to cover her embarrassment.

She’d barely been in bed for five minutes before Miles had called to ask her if she was free on Tuesday because he had a special day planned.

She accepted immediately (of course!) and they’d proceeded to spend the next two hours talking, which made her think she probably should have been brave enough to invite him in.

But now here they were, about to spend the day together. If she’d been Ralph, her tail would have been wagging.

Not sure whether that level of delight might be off-putting, she settled for a smile.

“I’m looking forward to our day, although you still haven’t told me what we’ll be doing. You’ve been evasive.”

“It’s a surprise. You don’t like surprises?”

The last surprise she’d had was discovering that Dorothy was her grandmother and Sara her aunt, so she wasn’t sure how to answer that.

The past few days had felt like stepping into another life. Miles had worked the day before, so she’d had Ralph with her at the cottage and she’d taken him for a long walk and visited Dorothy at the house. She’d helped her wrap garlands around the staircase, decorate the room the girls would be staying in and ice the Christmas cake. They’d spent the afternoon cooking meals for the freezer so that they didn’t have to spend the whole of the holidays in the kitchen.

Imogen had never bothered much with cooking, but with Dorothy by her side she discovered that chopping, frying and producing meals could be surprisingly relaxing. And it also made conversation easy. Imogen had asked her endless questions, keen to discover everything she could about this family she hadn’t even known she had. All those years she’d missed. All those birthdays and Christmases and celebrations, as well as the normal ordinary days that came and went without note. She wanted to know what they cared about, what made them laugh, who they were . She was trying to cram twenty-eight years of knowledge into a few days so that she could catch up. She’d discovered that Dorothy was a talented pianist, that she was addicted to crossword puzzles and de-stressed from the demands of business by spending time with her animals.

Trying to compensate for the one she couldn’t save.

When Miles had first said those words to her she hadn’t understood, but she understood now. And the more she got to know Dorothy, the more she knew that her mother’s version of events couldn’t possibly be right. Her account had been colored by her own insecurities and weakness. Dorothy would never abandon a family member. Or a friend for that matter. Imogen knew that for sure, not just because of what people had said to her, but because of her own observations. Dorothy was a giver. Generous.

And then there was Sara. Sara loved the outdoors, and particularly horses. She’d ridden often as a child, a passion Iris seemed to have inherited. But Sara also loved clothes and flowers and her family. Watching her with the children during the Christmas tree trip, Imogen had wondered how it was possible that Sara and her mother shared the same genetics, because they couldn’t have been more different. The more time she spent with them, the more she learned. Like pieces of a jigsaw, she was gradually getting a picture of her family.

But today wasn’t about her newfound family, it was about Miles.

“I love surprises, but it’s hard to know how to dress when I don’t know what we’re going to be doing.” She grabbed her bag and checked she had her keys and phone. “Where’s Ralph?”

“I’ve dropped him off with Dorothy. My plans for today aren’t all dog friendly.”

And now she was intrigued. “You won’t even give me a tiny clue?”

“Dress warmly,” he said. “We’ll be out for the whole day, and the evening.”

Imogen gave him her hat and gloves to hold while she pulled on her coat. “Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us.”

Her heart thudded a little harder. “So this is like a date?”

“It’s not like a date.” He smiled. “It is a date.”

She felt a flicker of something that might have been nerves. “In that case I should probably warn you that I’m not that great at dates.”

“I didn’t know you could pass or fail dating. You think I’m going to give you a grade?”

“I hope not, because I’d probably average around a D minus. I’m just warning you so that you can keep your expectations in check.”

She tried to zip her coat, but her fingers fumbled and she couldn’t get the teeth to bite.

Yes, she was definitely nervous. Could he see that?

Maybe he could, because he tucked the hat and gloves she’d handed him under his arm, gently nudged her hands aside and carefully zipped her coat for her.

“You’re talking to the guy who once left a woman in a restaurant to go and deal with a difficult calving, so I don’t think you need to feel anxious.” His hands lingered on her jacket, and for a wild moment she wondered if he was going to pull her in and kiss her.

And she wanted him to. She really wanted him to.

“That sounds like a legitimate reason for date abandonment.” Maybe she was misreading the whole thing, which was entirely possible. “Were the cow and calf okay?”

“Yes, thankfully.” He let go of her jacket. “But my date was not. She questioned my priorities.”

“What were you supposed to do? Ask the cow to hold on for a few hours?”

“Perhaps I should have tried that. I’ve never found cows to be great listeners, but maybe I just don’t have the knack.” He retrieved her hat and eased it onto her head. “Would it help if I confessed that this is unusual for me too? I haven’t really dated since my last disaster.”

“So why are you doing it now?”

He smoothed the stray strands of hair away from her eyes. “I don’t know, but I think it’s probably a measure of how much I like you.”

His words and the light brush of his fingers made her dizzy. “You do?”

If it had been hard to breathe before, it was almost impossible now. She was so aware of him. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her, and the air around them was charged with an almost unbearable tension that was wholly unfamiliar.

She was in the process of trying to work out what to do next when he stepped back.

“Yes, I do.” He handed her the gloves he’d been holding. “And we should probably get out of here or this date isn’t going to happen.”

She almost told him that she didn’t care what form their date took as long as they were together, but she didn’t. He’d clearly given a lot of thought to today. And either he’d feel the same way about her by the end of it, or he wouldn’t.

But if he did—

She smiled to herself as she tugged on her winter boots.

There was something deliciously exciting about anticipation.

She locked the cottage and together they headed to his car.

The sky was a perfect blue and the snow sparkled under the winter sun.

Miles headed out of the drive and onto the narrow country road that ran past the Winterbury Estate.

“I’m assuming you haven’t done any Christmas shopping yet?”

“You mean shopping for gifts? No. Apart from the usual Secret Santa at work, which is always a painful experience, I’ve never had anyone to buy presents for. I should probably take a look online for inspiration.” She felt a flicker of panic as she realized how close Christmas was and dug in her bag for her phone. “I should have thought of it sooner.”

“You didn’t know you were going to suddenly acquire a family. And don’t worry, I have a plan, so you can put your phone away.” Miles drove confidently along the narrow road, occasionally raising his hand to passing motorists.

“Do you know everyone around here?”

“Quite a few people. That’s what happens when you’ve lived in the same village for most of your life.”

They drove along small winding roads through countryside, past snowy fields and farms and the occasional church. Trees were frosted with white and stone walls were coated with a layer of snow. It felt a long way from London.

She tried to imagine what it must be like to live here and be part of this community.

“You never moved away?”

“Only to do my vet training. It was an interesting experience, but I missed this place. We’re here.” They’d reached the edge of a village and he slowed down and swooped into a vacant parking space next to a picturesque pub. The roof was dusted with snow and tiny lights had been strung along the eaves. “This place serves great food, as you will discover later.”

The pub looked so inviting, Imogen wasn’t sure she wanted to wait until later.

“I don’t suppose we could discover it now?”

“You want lunch at ten in the morning?”

“I’m hungry.”

He grinned. “The more I know you, the more I like you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She felt the same way about him, but she was too unsure of her own emotions to say so. This all felt so different. Her life was too busy to ever meet anyone organically, and for the last few years she’d used dating apps and become more and more disillusioned. It felt as impersonal as applying for a job. In the end she’d decided to give herself a break from the stress of it.

“Does your plan for the day include grabbing a coffee somewhere? I’m no good without coffee in the morning. Sorry. I should have set an alarm so that I woke up earlier. Then I could have consumed my coffee before you arrived.”

“Don’t panic. Coffee is definitely the first thing on the agenda. How do you feel about chocolate cake for breakfast?”

She blinked. “It’s a new one on me, so maybe I can tell you after I’ve eaten it?”

“Sounds good. Wrap up. It’s cold out there.” He opened the door and a blast of frigid air blew through the car.

“You’re not kidding.” Imogen pulled on her hat and zipped up her coat. “Chocolate cake is sounding better all the time.”

They walked out of the car park and onto the cobbled street that ran the length of the village. A stream meandered next to the road, the surface partly frozen.

The village had a nostalgic appeal, as if it was from a different time.

“I can’t believe there are ducks.” Imogen paused to watch them. “Aren’t they cold?”

“Ducks are hardy. They’re generally fine in cold weather, although you need to watch their feet.”

“Have you ever had a duck as a patient?”

“Most of the animals I deal with are a little bigger than that.” He reached out and took her hand and she glanced at him.

“You’re afraid I might slip?”

“No. I just like holding your hand.” He tugged her closer to let someone pass. “Unless you have something against holding hands in public?”

“No—” she cleared her throat “—I don’t.”

He was so easy with it all. So comfortable, whereas she overthought every word and gesture. But maybe this wasn’t as new to him as it was to her. She’d been alone for so long she’d forgotten how it felt to hold someone’s hand.

It felt good.

“Miles!” A woman in her forties crossed the road to greet him. She sent Imogen a curious look. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great thanks, Pippa.” He held Imogen’s hand firmly, showing no signs of releasing it. “How’s Ted?”

“Better, thanks. Recovering. The doctor has him on a strict diet and he’s moaning about it, so that’s fun, particularly as we’re in the gorging season. Melissa tells me she’s travelling this Christmas?”

“Yes. She was here last month and hopes to make it for New Year’s Eve. This is Imogen, by the way. Imogen—Pippa.”

Imogen gave a polite smile and they exchanged a few words before Pippa reached out and touched Miles on the arm.

“Are you working over Christmas? Because you’re welcome to join us for lunch.”

“That’s kind, Pippa, but I’ve already accepted an invitation to Dorothy’s.”

Pippa smiled. “Then I know you’ll be well-fed. Good. If I don’t see you before, I hope you have a great Christmas.”

She leaned in to give him a spontaneous hug and then turned and hurried in the opposite direction.

Imogen watched her go. “She was giving me funny looks.”

“It wasn’t personal. She was just interested because we were together and I was holding your hand. She had a million questions that she will now no doubt fire at my sister, who won’t know the answers. I await the phone call.” He seemed to find it amusing rather than irritating, and she felt a pang of envy that he had such a close family relationship.

Her mother had never shown the slightest interest in her love life. She’d never shown the slightest interest in anything Imogen did.

Imogen had been on her own.

But not anymore.

“Did you get on well with your sister when you were growing up? She wasn’t jealous of you?”

“No. If anything, she mothered me. I suppose she still does in a way. And yes, we got on fine, although better now that we’re older. We didn’t share many interests when we were growing up, apart from a love of food. We used to fight over the last slice of my mother’s chocolate cake.”

His mother’s chocolate cake. Chocolate cake came with happy memories.

She smiled. “Who won?”

“My mother always insisted on cutting it in half. She was a born diplomat.”

“Your appetite seems to be something of a local legend. Do you always have multiple invitations to Christmas lunch?”

“Always. I’ve perfected a certain helpless look when people talk about Christmas, and it works a treat. I haven’t had to cook for myself on Christmas Day for at least five years. In my defence I invariably cover Christmas, and I often get called out, so I wouldn’t risk roasting my own turkey. If I can grab a few roast potatoes at someone else’s table, that works for me.”

“Why do you cover Christmas?”

“Because my colleagues all have families. It’s important that they’re at home for Christmas.”

“That’s thoughtful.”

“They cover for me when necessary.” He pulled her closer. “I negotiated for them to cover today for me.”

“What reason did you give?”

“I told them the truth. That I had a hot date with a hot girl.” He smiled at her. “Although you look pretty cold right now, so we should probably get ourselves to that coffee shop before you freeze.”

They carried on walking, and everywhere she looked she saw charm and character. Rows of cottages, their stone walls gleaming pale gold in the winter sunlight. Creeper wound itself around doors and windows and snow dusted the sloping roofs.

“This whole place looks like a movie set. It’s so Christmassy.”

“That’s why I brought you here.” His hand tightened on hers. “You said you’d never done anything Christmassy before, so that’s what we’re doing today. We’re spending the whole day doing Christmassy things.”

“I thought you didn’t usually make much of a fuss about Christmas?”

He smiled. “This will be a first for both of us. Also it’s a cunning way of getting you to help me choose my Christmas gifts. Left to my own devices I’d buy everyone a woolly hat. Do you need a woolly hat by any chance?”

“Is it possible to have too many?”

“Not in my opinion and I’m glad you agree. But before we go shopping, we need sustenance. This place has a Christmas market and a coffee shop that sells the best cakes anywhere. Except, maybe, Dorothy’s kitchen.” He pushed open the door of a pretty café and she stepped inside.

Immediately, she was engulfed by warmth, delicious smells and the soothing sound of a coffee machine in action.

“What can I get you?” Miles unzipped his coat and gestured to the counter. “Choose something.”

“I’m not sure about chocolate cake.” She scanned the display. “Almond croissant please. And a cappuccino. I’ll pay.”

“No, today is on me. Call it a thank-you for helping me out with Ralph. You can treat me to a day out in London sometime. Go and grab that table by the window. It has a great view of the street.”

Imogen sat down at the vacant table. It was nestled in the curve of the window, and she gazed out over the snowy street, feeling as if she was starring in a Dickens novel.

You can treat me to a day out in London sometime.

The knowledge that he was already hoping they’d see each other again gave her a dizzying buzz.

“Why are you smiling?” Miles unloaded the food and coffee from a tray and sat down next to her.

“Because I’m enjoying myself.”

“That’s a relief.”

“The last woman you dated—” she kept her voice casual “—was it serious?”

“No. Definitely casual.” He ate a mouthful of chocolate cake. “She didn’t like my lifestyle. The last serious relationship I had was three years ago. She also didn’t like my lifestyle. Nor did she like living in the countryside. How about you?”

She took a sip of coffee, wondering how honest to be. “My dating history is pretty sparse and unimpressive.”

“Tell me about your last boyfriend.”

She put her cup down. “That would be Jack.” She felt color heat her cheeks and he raised an eyebrow.

“And Jack was—don’t tell me—a successful banker with an income the same size as his ego?”

“Not exactly.” She hesitated. “Jack was fictitious.”

There was silence as he digested that. “Fictitious? You mean he doesn’t exist?”

“That’s right. I made him up. I got tired of using dating apps, but it was occasionally convenient to have a boyfriend, so I invented a guy called Jack.”

But it was time to let him go. Jack, Midas—she was clearing the fake out of her life.

“Why was it convenient to have a boyfriend?”

She stared out of the window for a moment, wondering why she was telling him this. “I wanted to fit in. I invented a life I thought would make me seem like everyone else.”

“Why would you want to be like everyone else?”

“Because growing up I always felt different. Other people seemed to have homes, and even though plenty of them had separated parents, their parents still seemed to be interested in them. I didn’t want to stand out, so I used to make things up. It wasn’t just a boyfriend.” And soon she was telling him all of it. How she’d tried to blend in when she was at school and then college, how she’d learned to present herself in a certain way in order not to draw attention. She told him about her first day at RPQ when everyone had personal items on their desk. “They all talked so openly about family and friends. What was I supposed to say? That my mother insists I call her by her first name because she dislikes any suggestion that we’re related? It was too personal. And I suppose deep down I was afraid that if they knew me they’d judge me. If your own mother isn’t interested in you, why would anyone else be?”

“I think that says more about your mother than you.”

“Maybe. But if they thought that, then they would have been sympathetic, and I didn’t want that either. I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me. I just wanted to fit in and do my job.”

He nodded slowly. “So you invented a family and a dog to avoid the questions and make it easier. Did the dog have a name?”

“Midas. He was an accident, really. I mentioned him in passing one day because everyone had pets, and I thought that would be a simple way of bonding. I didn’t think for one moment anyone would expect to meet him. It escalated, and it wasn’t easy to extract myself. The email about ‘Bring your dog to work day’ was a low point.”

“Bring your dog to work day?” He smiled and she frowned at him, affronted.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No. I’m wondering if any of your colleagues understand just how much havoc a group of dogs can create. I’m also trying to picture your face when they told you they’d sent out ‘missing dog’ notices.”

She groaned at the memory. “The gods of lying certainly weren’t smiling down on me, particularly when the actual owner of the dog called the number. Next time I won’t use a photo from the internet.” But she was smiling too because he was right—looking back on it, it was funny. And it felt good to finally be honest with someone. To share it. Good, and also unnerving. She’d never been her true self with anyone before. She poked at the foam in her coffee, wondering what he really thought of her. “So now I’ve told you all of it, you can leave if you like. No hard feelings.”

His smile faded. “Leave? Why would I leave?”

“Because I just told you all about myself.” She put the spoon down. “You must think I’m batshit crazy.”

“For wanting to fit in? No, of course not. That’s a pretty human need. We’re herd animals. And as for not wanting to talk about your mother—” he shrugged “—why would you? Plenty of people have things in their lives they prefer not to share, Imogen.” He was so relaxed about it, so unfazed by her honest confession, that she started to relax.

“But making up a dog—”

“Sounds like a creative solution to me. And it’s not as if ‘Bring your dog to work days’ are common. How were you supposed to anticipate that? What kind of dog was he?”

She broke off the corner of her croissant and ate it. “He was a golden retriever, just like Ralph.”

“Of course. Midas.” He nodded. “I should have guessed.”

“The weird thing is I made him up because I wanted to seem like a dog person like my colleagues, and it turns out I am a dog person. I didn’t even know I loved dogs until I met Ralph. I didn’t have a pet growing up, and I only invented Midas because everyone at work is obsessed with their pets.” She sighed and sat back in her chair. “And I still have to confess to them that it was all lies. I’m not looking forward to that part.”

“They don’t know Midas was fictitious?”

“No. I was sent on extended leave before I could tell them the truth. That joy awaits me in January, along with a load of other unpleasant things.”

Like dealing with her mother.

She felt a cloud descend as she thought of returning to her life in London. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Holly Cottage, but that was only hers for Christmas, of course.

The Christmas cottage. Just for the holidays.

In the new year Dorothy would be making it available as a rental property again.

Miles reached across and took her hand. “You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to. There’s no rule that says you have to reveal all the details of your life.”

“I know, but I’m learning that if you never let anyone see the real you, then no one knows the real you.” She paused. “I suppose I was afraid they wouldn’t like me.”

“I know the real you, and I like you.” His tone was rough. “I like you a lot.”

How was it that she could be so confident in some areas of her life, and so unsure in others?

Like now.

She felt herself blush. “I like you a lot too.”

“Good.” His hand tightened on hers. “And now let’s think about Christmas, because that’s what today is all about. If you could have any gift for Christmas, what would it be?”

She didn’t have to think about it. “Having a real family Christmas is probably the best gift. Dorothy has hung a stocking for me on the fireplace. Can you believe that? Actually, it was Ava who insisted on it. And tomorrow is Iris’s school play—we’re taking Benson along. I’m in charge of making sure he behaves himself, although I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that because he has a mind of his own.”

“If I were you, I’d take an expert with you. Just to be safe.”

She looked at him. “You’d come?”

“If I’m invited.”

“You’re definitely invited.” She paused, remembering all the times she’d performed with no one in the audience rooting for her. “Iris would love it. And so would I.”

“Then I’ll be there. And returning to the subject of Christmas, apart from being with family, what would be your dream gift?”

A dog.

But not any dog. Ralph.

She didn’t say it aloud. What was the point? Ralph was Miles’s dog, not hers. And anyway, she couldn’t have a pet with her current lifestyle.

“I don’t know. What’s top of your list? Have you written to Santa?”

“I bought myself a weatherproof jacket that is going to keep me warm when I’m out in the fields at two in the morning in January.”

“That doesn’t sound particularly exciting.”

“It is if you’re the one getting frostbite.” He pushed his chocolate cake toward her. “Try a mouthful. I insist.”

She did as he instructed and closed her eyes as she savored it. “Okay, I admit it—that’s good. Too good. So what’s next on our agenda?”

“We are going to do all our Christmas shopping at the Christmas market. Then we’re having lunch.”

“And after that?”

“We’re going ice-skating.”

She put the fork down. “Seriously? I had no idea you could skate.”

“I can’t. I’ve never done it before, but Lissa assures me we will have fun.”

“You discussed our day out with your sister?”

He finished his coffee. “I wanted some tips on what would make a perfect Christmas date, so I consulted an expert. My sister is obsessed with Christmas. She visits at least two Christmas markets in Europe every winter and starts decorating in November. She says it brightens the winter months. I wanted you to have a good time.”

He’d wanted her to have a good time, so he’d asked his sister’s advice.

“For the record, I am having a good time, so her advice was good.” Her gaze met his across the table and she felt something shift between them. “I don’t suppose your sister gave you a list of gift ideas? I need to buy presents for Ava and Iris, also Sara, and I’ve never bought anything for children before.”

“I didn’t ask for that level of detail, but if we get stuck we can always call her. Are you ready?”

They left the warmth of the café and ventured out into the street.

They passed a gift shop and an independent bookstore and then turned a corner and found that the street had been transformed into a bustling Christmas market. There were wooden stalls offering handmade crafts, jewelry and ceramics, as well as specialty food and drink.

“It’s pretty. I hadn’t realised there would be food.”

“Lissa tells me that this is the best Christmas market around here because they bring together local producers, and the quality is exceptional. This is why I couldn’t risk bringing Ralph,” Miles said. “He can’t resist a good artisan sausage, and I didn’t want to risk the possible humiliation of dealing with a rampaging dog in a Christmas market. I have to carry on living in this place.”

“Poor Ralph. I’ll buy him a treat to make up for it.”

“You’ve been treating him by letting him sleep on your bed.”

She wondered whether to deny it, but a glance at his face told her there was no point. “How did you guess?”

“Because he tries to do the same when he is staying with me. The difference is that I don’t let him.”

“What can I say? I like having him there.” She refused to apologize for it. “Ralph is pretty much the perfect companion.”

“Are you setting me a challenge?”

“No. So far you’re doing pretty well too. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Was it true what Dorothy said about you not wanting another dog after Alfie?”

“Yes. That’s how I felt. Alfie was one in a million.” He picked up a hand-thrown pot from the stall next to them, checked the price and then put it back again. “I couldn’t bear the thought of replacing him. I wasn’t emotionally ready to move on. But then I saw Valerie struggling with Ralph, and I decided it was time.”

She felt a twinge of envy that he and Ralph would be living together. Sharing their lives.

“Ralph is lucky. I hope you’re buying him something special for Christmas.”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Whether he’d look good in a woolly hat.”

Imogen laughed and strolled along the street searching for gift inspiration from the many stalls.

She chose a pair of earrings for Sara, and on impulse bought the same for Janie and Anya. They’d been good friends to her. Whether they’d still be good friends after she’d confessed the truth about herself remained to be seen, but she wasn’t going to think about that now.

At the next stall she chose a beautiful notebook for Rosalind by way of a thank-you. If it hadn’t been for Rosalind, she wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t have met Miles. Dorothy wouldn’t have lent her the cottage, and maybe she wouldn’t have known Dorothy was her grandmother, although that would no doubt have come out eventually.

And maybe, if Rosalind hadn’t insisted she take a long break, she would have burned out. She saw now that she couldn’t have carried on working at the pace she’d been working, not just because it was unsustainable from an energy point of view, but also because it made her life so narrow.

She paid for the notebook, and Miles took the bag from her and slid it into one of the other bags he was carrying.

“Who is this for?”

“My boss.”

“You like her?”

“Yes, she’s brilliant. Inspirational, but also insightful. When she told me I had to take a month off, I was devastated. I had no idea what I was going to do without work to fill my days, particularly over Christmas.”

He looked at the number of parcels she’d amassed in a short time. “You seem to be doing fine with that.”

“Yes. And I’m sleeping well, which is a miracle. It took me a while to switch off, but now I have, I can’t imagine switching it back on again. It has made me realize that I need to do more. Get a better balance in my life. All I thought about was work. I’d send emails in the middle of the night.”

“Why? That fictitious boyfriend of yours should have made you leave your laptop at the bedroom door.”

She laughed. “He was useless. It’s over.”

“The breakup was bad?”

“Terrible. He won’t speak to me.”

“I feel for the guy. So why was your workload so heavy you had to answer emails in the middle of the night?”

“That was my own fault for never saying no to anyone. I took on more and more. I was always the first in the door and the last home. I told myself it was ambition and that’s partly true, but it was also fear.” She could admit that to herself now. “The drive to succeed came from a place of insecurity.”

“It sounds as if you’re good at your job, so why would you feel insecure?”

“I think it’s hardwired into me. It was tough when growing up. Money was tight. Tina sometimes had work, and sometimes she didn’t.”

He winced. “Hearing you call her Tina feels so wrong.”

Almost everything about her relationship with her mother had felt wrong.

“She insisted on Tina. We moved frequently when I was a child, usually because she couldn’t afford the rent. We never had anywhere that was ours. Nowhere that felt like home. I badly wanted something different. I’d visit friends and see their homes, and I wanted that. Nothing big or elaborate, just a place that was mine. At college, lots of the students had help from their parents, but I never had that. I had three jobs, which is why I got used to working in the middle of the night, I suppose. I’ve always known I have to be financially independent, and that’s been a driver for me.” She paused by a stall selling soft toys.

“Does Dorothy know how hard it has been for you?”

“I’m sure she has guessed some of it. I’ve given her a few details, but not all of them.” She picked up an alpaca. “This is very soft and cuddly. Do you think Ava would like this?”

“No idea. Probably. So you’re protecting Dorothy?”

“Partly. I know she feels guilty and I don’t want her to feel worse than she already does. But also I prefer to look forward. I thought I had no family and it turns out I do have family, and a loving family at that. I don’t want to focus on the time I didn’t have it. I want to enjoy the fact that now I do have it. Does that make sense?”

“It does. And in the spirit of looking forward, are you going to change things when you get back to London? Are you going to carry on working for Rosalind or will you look for something else?”

Something else. The thought hadn’t occurred to her.

“I love my job. I’m good at my job. I just need to learn to do it differently. To switch off. Maybe delegate more.” She thought about Anya and Janie, and how hard she found it to release control over work. “I need to give it some thought. But not now.”

She didn’t want to think about going back, not with the lights from the Christmas market sparkling around her and Miles looking at her as if she was the only person there.

She wanted to freeze the moment and make it last forever.

She bought the stuffed alpaca for Ava, and on impulse bought the same for Iris.

“I need to find a gift for Patrick. Any ideas?” She glanced around, lacking in inspiration. “I had no idea Christmas shopping was so mentally exhausting. This will be my first Christmas with them. I want to get them something really special.”

“I think having you there will make it really special. I’m pretty sure gifts won’t matter.”

“They matter to me. I want to get it right.”

“If I can’t buy someone a woolly hat, I buy them food. That way they can either eat it, or give it to someone else to eat. How about chocolates? Iris loves chocolate. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to help him. Wait a minute—I’ll message Lissa and see if she has any ideas. She’s known Patrick forever.” He pulled his phone out and sent a message to his sister, and they strolled past a few more stalls as she looked for something special.

The problem was that she didn’t know them that well yet.

She was pondering a pair of cashmere gloves for Dorothy when Lissa replied.

Miles scanned the message. “She says to go to the bookshop and ask Paul and Rick. Patrick loves books, that’s true. It’s a good idea. I should have thought of it, and the fact that I didn’t is just one of the many reasons I won’t be applying to be Santa anytime soon. We’ll head to the bookshop when we’ve finished with the market.”

“Paul and Rick? You really do know everyone.”

“Lissa has a really tight group of friends from childhood and they’re good at staying in touch. Patrick and Sara you know, obviously. Then there’s Paul and Rick, and also Shona. She’s a florist. Lives in Cheltenham and spends her life doing posh weddings. We had a drunken kiss on my eighteenth birthday, but don’t ever tell my sister that.”

His frankness made her smile and she thought how nice it was that they were all knitted together, their lives intertwined and overlapping, their history shared and stored.

She bought the cashmere gloves, and at the next stall she chose some art materials for Ava and Iris.

She added a box of Belgian truffles as a thank-you to Dorothy for inviting her for Christmas and bought large chocolate Santas for the children.

“Does Sara mind them having chocolate?”

“At Christmas, anything goes. Given that you’ve never really done any Christmas shopping before, you seem to be mastering the art pretty quickly.” Miles grabbed her purchases before she could drop them. “We’re going to need to offload some of these at the car soon.”

“What about you? Aren’t you going to do any shopping? Are you buying something for Lissa, or is she getting a hat too?”

“Cheese.”

“Excuse me?”

“My sister loves cheese, particularly French cheese. That’s what I buy her.”

The Christmas market turned out to be a memorable and magical experience. She sampled fudge and chocolate and carried on buying gifts until Miles called a halt to it on the grounds that they couldn’t carry any more.

They headed to the bookstore, where Paul and Rick sold her a book they assured her Patrick would love, and then they headed to the pub, an old fourteenth-century coaching inn complete with beamed ceilings, stone floors and a roaring log fire.

The place was crowded, but the owner managed to find Miles a prime table near the fire, muttering something about him never buying a drink for himself again after what he’d done for the Hendersons’ prize cattle the previous summer.

She was fast discovering that he was something of a hero in his local community.

“We should have asked to have those presents gift wrapped.” He settled next to her and stretched out his legs. “It would have saved you a job.”

“I didn’t want them gift wrapped. I’m going to wrap them myself when we get home. It’s all part of the Christmas experience. You don’t wrap your own?”

“If you’d ever seen my wrapping, you wouldn’t be asking that question.”

She hung her coat on the back of the chair. “I’ve been watching videos on how to wrap a present perfectly.”

“You don’t think you’re taking this a little too seriously?”

“No. It’s my first proper family Christmas. I want it to be just like the movies.” She laughed and then felt her phone buzz. She took it out of her pocket and the joy from the day faded.

Miles watched her. “Your mother?”

“Yes. She’s called a couple of times, but I haven’t answered her calls or called her back. Last time I saw her she told me to get out of her life, so that’s what I’m doing. Except it’s not that easy.” She rejected the call and put her phone back in her bag. “Part of me wants to speak to her and get some answers.”

Over the past week she’d told him all of it, revealing far more than she had to Dorothy and Sara. It was easier, somehow, to talk to someone who wasn’t directly emotionally involved. Or maybe it was just that Miles was easy to talk to.

“Would answers help?” He spoke quietly and she looked at him for a moment, wondering how he always knew the right question to ask.

“Probably not. No. Whatever she says, nothing is going to change the past.”

“Maybe it’s not answers you want. Maybe it’s an apology.”

She took a sip of her drink and thought about it. “Yes. But I know I wouldn’t get one. I feel so angry with her.” She blurted the words out and felt his hand cover hers.

“That’s understandable.”

“Not only because of the things she said last time I saw her, but because she made a choice for me that she never should have made. And maybe that was acceptable when I was a baby, although I don’t understand that part at all because if she hated being a mother so much, if I was really the worst thing that had ever happened to her as she told me that night, then why didn’t she just leave me with Dorothy and Sara? That makes no sense. But the part that makes me really angry is that she lied about them for my whole life. She spent years stoking my resentment toward them, telling me they’d abandoned her. She didn’t want them in her life and she made that decision for both of us, and that’s what I’m finding hard to deal with. Even that last time I saw her, she didn’t tell me the truth.”

He kept his hand on hers. “It sounds as if she’s the master of emotional manipulation. I can’t imagine how upsetting that episode in the hospital must have been.”

Imogen thought back to the hurt she’d felt that night. She’d felt totally alone. She could have lost her job. “It was bad. But it’s funny how life works out, isn’t it? I kept beating myself up for going to the hospital that night, but if I hadn’t gone, then I wouldn’t have messed up my job, and if I hadn’t messed up my job, Rosalind wouldn’t have insisted I take a month off. If I hadn’t had a month off, I wouldn’t be here now. I never would have met my real family. Isn’t that ironic?”

He stroked her hand with his thumb. “You don’t think Dorothy would have said something eventually?”

“Maybe. I suppose so.” She frowned. “When I asked her, she just said that she didn’t have a plan. She was taking it day by day.”

“It can’t have been an easy thing to raise with you.”

“No. I can see that now.”

He let go of her hand and reached for his drink. “If Tina isn’t calling you to apologize or wish you a happy Christmas, why is she calling?”

“She probably wants money. That’s the only reason she calls. Anyway, enough of that. We’re having a perfect Christmassy day, and my mother isn’t going to be part of that.” She was determined that she was not going to let her mother spoil the day. She couldn’t control what her mother did, but she could control how she responded to it.

They ate lunch and it was several hours before they could drag themselves away from the warmth of the pub.

She slid her arm through his. “What’s next?”

“Ice-skating.” They headed to the small ice rink that had been set up on the edge of the village and watched for a few minutes while children circumnavigated the rink held by wobbly parents.

Imogen winced as a woman in a blue hat lost her balance and crashed down hard on her bottom. “Ouch.”

“Mmm. Lissa thought this would be romantic,” Miles said. “I’m not sure why. We could both end up in hospital. She probably thought it would give us an excuse to hold hands, but as we’ve been doing that for most of the day, I’m not sure we need to go to those extremes. Unless you’re desperate to show off your ice dance skills, we could move on to our next Christmassy activity.”

“I don’t have any ice dance skills, so moving on sounds good.”

They headed back to the car and he drove away from the village and deep into the countryside.

It was dark by the time he turned into the entrance of a stately home.

“Won’t it be closed?”

“Inside, yes, but we’re not doing a tour of the interior. They have a festive light trail. I believe officially they call it an enchanted trail, so if you don’t feel enchanted I’ll demand a refund. A client of mine mentioned it to me. I thought that if you wanted to feel Christmassy, this is probably the place.”

She was touched by how much thought he’d put into their day, and from the moment she stepped out of the car, she knew this had been a good choice.

He took her hand and they walked past the stands selling hot chocolate and toasted marshmallows and followed a lantern trail through the gardens. They wandered through tunnels of fairy lights and past a lake illuminated by lasers of different colors.

She’d spent most of her life trying to ignore Christmas. Her focus had been on making it through to the other side and normality, but here, surrounded by lights and trees, excited children and an almost otherworldly atmosphere, she could finally understand why people might love this time of year.

She loved it.

“It’s beautiful.” She tilted her head back, admiring the twinkling snowflakes and stars above her head. “I am definitely enchanted. No refund necessary.”

“Having real snow on the ground doesn’t hurt.”

“That’s true.”

The shimmering light bathed the snow in iridescent colors, adding a magical quality to the landscape.

They followed the snowy trail into the woodland, where trees were lit with different colors.

Laughter drifted toward them, but for now they were alone, cocooned by snowy branches and soft, intimate lighting, and when he lowered his head to kiss her she lifted herself onto her toes to meet him halfway.

His mouth settled on hers, his lips cold, but his kiss warm and unhurried. Pleasure raked through her, the sensation so intense and unexpected that she would have lost her balance had he not been holding her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved closer. She had no thoughts of pulling away. Why would she? Kissing him felt so blissfully right that for a moment she wondered if the forest might indeed be enchanted. The slow seduction of his mouth felt like so much more than a kiss. A delicious, erotic prelude to something more. A promise.

Sounds of approaching children interrupted them, and he lifted his head reluctantly, but kept his arms tightly around her, holding her close until the children had passed and they once more had the forest to themselves.

She leaned against his chest, waiting for her heart rate to steady.

Kissing him had made her feel as if she’d discovered something about herself, as if this moment was something more than just a romantic interlude under the stars.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again.

“If you’ve had enough of Christmas, I could take you home?” He murmured the words against her mouth. “And maybe you could invite me in?”

Something in his eyes and his tone made her catch her breath.

In a way, she’d already invited him in. She’d shared things with him she’d never shared with anyone else. Opened herself up and let him see who she really was.

There was nothing fake between them. No lies. Nothing that wasn’t honest and true.

And now she was here in this magical winter wonderland, hovering on the edge of something that felt more real than anything she’d ever encountered before.

She didn’t hesitate.

“Let’s go.”