22
Dorothy
“ I have news!” Sara burst into the kitchen and dumped two bulging shopping bags on the kitchen table. She stripped off her coat and threw it over the nearest chair. “You will never guess what.”
“What? You’ve spent all your savings in the farm shop and now you need a loan?” Dorothy put down the tray of freshly baked mince pies she’d pulled out of the oven and grabbed the bags from the table before the contents could spill across her kitchen floor. “Why are you shopping there? Everything costs a fortune. Why the sudden extravagance?”
“It’s our treat. If we’re spending Christmas with you, then we need to contribute. Between Patrick and the girls, we eat a lot. And Imogen will be here too, and maybe Miles. It’s just a few bits and pieces—Lissa’s favorite artisan crackers that go so well with cheese, some of those olives you love, those cute marzipan animals that Iris adores—anyway, forget about that. I have something much more exciting to talk about.”
“Ah yes, you said you had news that I’m never going to guess?” Dorothy transferred the mince pies to a cooling rack.
“I just spoke to Lissa, who had a call from Pippa last night.” Sara pulled off her wool hat and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Guess who she saw holding hands in the Christmas market yesterday?”
Dorothy tried not to smile. “You don’t really want me to waste time guessing, do you? And I’m sure I don’t know why we need bother with a local newspaper given the extraordinary powers of observation displayed by the locals.”
Sara was vibrating with excitement. “Pippa bumped into Miles and Imogen. And they were holding hands.”
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to interfere?”
“I’m not interfering, exactly, just showing an intense interest.”
Dorothy dusted the mince pies with icing sugar. “It is lethal underfoot at the moment, so that was probably a good decision from a health and safety point of view. Does anything in those bags need to go in the fridge, Sara?”
“Health and safety? They weren’t holding hands because it was icy, Mum. They were laughing and talking and generally having fun. Those mince pies smell delicious. Are they for eating?”
“Later. I’ve made them for Imogen. She told me they’re her favorite.” And right now she would have baked anything from a six-tier cake to a soufflé (and she hated making soufflé) if Imogen expressed a preference. She wanted to spoil her. To make up for all the years she hadn’t been able to do that. “It’s good to know they were having fun. If you’re going to spend the whole day with someone it’s best to enjoy it.”
“How did you know they were spending the whole day together?” Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Lissa only told me about it this morning.”
“This sounds more like interference than interest, Sara.”
“Fine. I’m interfering, although to be honest they seem to be doing fine without any help from us. Tell me how you know!”
“Miles told me he’d planned a day of Christmassy things for Imogen. They were going to the Christmas market, walk in the country, lunch in the pub and then I think they were doing the light trail. I thought it was a lovely idea. Very romantic. And perfect for Imogen. It will be good for her to get into the spirit of Christmas for once. All that talk of pizzas made me shudder.” Leaving the mince pies to cool, she started to unload Sara’s bags. “I get the sense she hasn’t had anywhere near enough fun in her life. She’s been so focused on making sure she can earn money and be independent.”
Not that Imogen had said much, but she’d said enough for Dorothy to work out that it hadn’t been easy for her. And she felt both guilty and frustrated about that.
“Wait—Miles told you?” Sara stared at her. “When?”
“He dropped in for a quick coffee very early yesterday morning. We had a little chat, but that’s not unusual.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t see you yesterday. And anyway, I always treat my conversations with Miles as confidential. I’m his mother figure. I like to think I’m filling in for poor Sheila—” Dorothy felt the usual pang of loss as she thought of her friend “—and anyway I didn’t want to draw attention to it and possibly make them both feel awkward.”
“From what Pippa said, they are way past feeling awkward. I was really hoping they’d spent the night together, but his car wasn’t there this morning when I took the kids to school. Gutting. And Imogen was definitely in because I saw a light on, so she didn’t stay over at his.” Sara paused for breath. “Mum?”
Ralph chose that moment to charge into the room, carrying one of Dorothy’s slippers, and Sara looked from the dog to her mother.
“Ralph is here? Why is Ralph here?”
“I looked after him yesterday while they went on their date. Miles didn’t want to leave him alone for that long, which given the chaos this dog can cause was probably a wise decision.” She bent to make a fuss of him. “But you were a good boy, weren’t you? Yes, you were, although I’m going to need that slipper back now, thank you.”
Ralph dropped it at her feet, tail wagging.
Sara was frowning. “But why did he stay overnight? Why didn’t Miles just pick him up when he dropped Imogen home?”
“I expect he was late and didn’t want to disturb me. And that was fine with me. Ralph is a sweetheart, although for some reason he wanted to sleep on the bed with me, which is a little strange because I’m sure Valerie never let him into her bedroom.” Dorothy rubbed the top of his head. “I don’t know where he would have picked up that habit.”
“Do you think Miles stayed the night and hid the car?”
“Goodness, why would he hide his car?” Dorothy straightened. “They’re both consenting adults. If they chose to spend the night together, then that’s their choice. I’ve invited Valerie to join us for Christmas lunch. I didn’t like the idea of her being on her own, and she is very easy company. She always tells great stories from her pharmacy days about people’s ‘drug habits’ as she calls them. I hope that’s okay with you and Patrick. Ellen is going to pick her up on her way over.
“At this rate the entire village is going to be spending Christmas here, but that’s fine by me. And as for Miles and Imogen—I’m not judging. Just hopeful, that’s all.” Sara sneaked a mince pie from the rack. “I love Miles like a brother. Can I help it if I want him to be happy? Although Imogen lives in London, and Miles isn’t moving from here, so how would it work in the long-term?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t need to know because it’s not my business. And it’s not your business either.”
Sara took a bite of the mince pie and closed her eyes. “This is delicious. And London isn’t a million miles away.”
“Sara!”
“What? Sorry. I was thinking aloud, that’s all.”
“Well, maybe think quietly.” Dorothy gave her a look. “In my experience it doesn’t pay to matchmake or interfere in any way. When Imogen arrives, you’re to behave normally. You’re not to interrogate her.”
“I’ll try not to.” But Sara was smiling. “Lissa would be thrilled if something happened between them. She has been so worried about him ever since Zara left. He’s barely dated.”
“He’s been careful, that’s true. But I don’t blame him for that. And as I said, it’s not our business. Now stop talking about it because I don’t want Imogen to arrive and find us gossiping. Have you finished your Christmas shopping?”
“All done. How about you?”
“I just have Imogen left to buy for. I’ve bought fun things for her stocking—Iris and I chose a few things together, but I want to give her something special. Can you think of anything she’d like?”
Sara was still smiling. “Er—a certain super-hot animal doctor, maybe?”
“Sara!”
“Okay, sorry. No meddling.” Sara sat back and thought. “Clothes? No. She lives in London so she’ll have plenty of clothes. And she always looks stylish, even when she’s dressed for arctic weather. A necklace? Something special?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe.” Dorothy pondered. “This is her first Christmas with us, and it’s a fresh start. A beginning, if you like. I want to give her something meaningful. Something that makes her feel like part of the family.”
“I think just being here with us will make her feel like part of the family,” Sara said, “but I’ll keep thinking.”
The dogs suddenly shot out of the room barking, and Dorothy watched them go.
“Someone at the door. Imogen, no doubt. No more talking about Miles. And do not give her the third degree on her love life.”
“My lips are sealed.”
Imogen walked into the room moments later, an adoring Ralph at her heels.
“Thank you so much for keeping him, Dorothy.” She hugged Dorothy tightly, and Dorothy felt a lump build in her throat. All the love she’d been holding back threatened to spill out.
“You’re so welcome. Anytime.”
Imogen made a fuss of Ralph. “Was he good?”
“Good as gold.” Dorothy eyed Ralph, and Imogen glanced at her with a smile.
“Was he a handful?”
“Well, he did keep wanting to share the bed with me, but once we established that it wasn’t going to happen, he slept down here with Bailey and all was well.”
Imogen turned pink. “That’s my fault. I may have spoiled him a little when he was staying with me.”
“And this is why we don’t have a dog,” Sara said. “Having two children climbing into bed with me is more than enough. Did you have a fun day yesterday, Imogen?”
“It was brilliant. I bought a gift for Ralph. And one for Bailey too. No favoritism.” Imogen put her hand in her pocket and presented each dog with a new chew toy shaped like a bone. “The Christmas market was so festive, and the light trail was magical. I’m still thinking about it.”
“You were lucky with the weather,” Sara said. “It was a clear night. It must have been romantic.”
Dorothy sighed. “Sara—”
“It was romantic.” Imogen leaned against the countertop, a dreamy look in her eyes. “I had the perfect day. Normally I avoid everything to do with Christmas, but yesterday I embraced everything and I had the best time. Miles is so great.”
“He is,” Sara said. “He really is.”
Imogen watched as Ralph played with the bone. “Did you know he asked his sister for ideas for the best Christmassy date ever?”
“Well, actually I—” Sara caught her mother’s eye. “No. Didn’t know that. Tell us all about it.”
Dorothy reached for a cake tin. “Imogen might prefer to keep it to herself.”
“No, I wouldn’t. It was so amazing I want to talk about it.” She gave them an apologetic look. “Sorry. I’ve never felt like this before. You’re probably bored. You don’t want to hear it.”
“Trust me, we want to hear it. The more detail, the better,” Sara said, and pulled out the chair next to her. “Sit down, Imogen. Eat a mince pie. They’re delicious. Mum will make us both coffee while you tell us everything. Where is Miles, by the way?”
“He’s working today and he was called at six.” Imogen sat down next to Sara. “He did tell me which farm, but I’ve forgotten the name.”
“At six?” Understanding spread across Sara’s face, along with a smile. “He left the cottage at six? That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
Sara caught her mother’s eye. “Why you’re—er—looking a little tired. How maddening for you not being able to have a lie-in and a slow start to the day.”
“I don’t mind. That’s his job, isn’t it?”
“True.”
“I like the fact that he cares about his work so much. I’m the same.”
“He’s a good person. Also smoking hot—”
Dorothy gave a start. “Sara!”
Sara grinned at Imogen. “We’ll have that conversation when your grandmother isn’t in the room.”
“I’m not a prude,” Dorothy said, “just more respectful of people’s privacy than you are.”
“I’m respectful of people’s privacy normally,” Sara protested, “but Imogen is family so that gives me probing rights.”
Dorothy was about to contradict her when she saw the glow on Imogen’s face.
She’d been racking her brains for something special she could buy to make Imogen feel part of their family unit, and Sara had managed it with a few intrusive words and one emphatic statement.
Imogen is family.
Dorothy cleared her throat. “Just remember, Imogen,” she said briskly, “that being family gives you the right to tell your well-meaning but interfering aunt to keep her questions and observations to herself.”
Imogen stole another mince pie. “It’s good to have someone to talk to about it.”
“It’s a shame Miles was working today,” Sara said. “But I suppose at least one of you had a lie-in.”
“Not really. I got up at six and made him coffee and a bacon sandwich. It’s cold out there and you know how hungry he gets.” Imogen finished the mince pie. “These are the best, Dorothy. I’d happily eat nothing else for the rest of my life. Do you know how to make boeuf bourguignon? And if so, will you teach me?”
“Yes. But why do you need to make it?”
Imogen blushed. “Because yesterday when we were talking about our favorite foods, Miles mentioned that he loves it. I’m cooking him dinner tomorrow and I thought I’d surprise him. And I hope you don’t mind, but I invited him to the play tonight and he said yes. He said he’d help with Benson.”
Dorothy stared at her. “Miles is coming to the school play? Are you sure?”
Sara was laughing. “Oh, Imogen, Imogen—”
“What? Should I not have invited him?”
“I invite him every year,” Dorothy said, “particularly if they want to borrow animals. He always refuses.”
“In the past he has found himself either dodging amorous mothers or questions about pets,” Sara said dryly. “He probably thinks that if he’s with you, he has protection.”
“I do have a black belt in jujitsu.” Imogen flexed her biceps. “Not that I think he’ll need my protection. He has muscles of his own.”
Sara rested her chin on her palm. “Tell us more, Imogen.”
“Ignore her,” Dorothy advised. “Now back to that casserole. It’s all in the quality of the meat and wine. We could go to the farm shop together to buy all the ingredients, and then we could make it in your kitchen at Holly Cottage.”
“Are you sure you have time?”
“Absolutely. We’ll make extra for the freezer.” Dorothy walked to the kitchen shelves, selected a book and opened it to the right page. “This is the recipe I use, although I adapt it slightly. You’ll see my notes in the margin. You’ll need to make a shopping list.”
Imogen studied the recipe and started making notes in her phone. “I want it to be special.”
“I’ll get Patrick to choose you a good wine,” Sara said. “How about candles? Do you have candles?”
“There are candles in the cottage.”
Imogen looked doubtful. “Do you think candles will be too much? I don’t want to scare him.”
“He’s not the sort of guy who scares easily. Unless you expect him to attend the school play unaccompanied. Also—” Sara leaned forward “—candlelight is very forgiving. If the food isn’t perfect, he won’t be able to see.”
Dorothy gave her a look. “The food will be perfect. Do you want us to keep Ralph here?”
“No, but thank you.” Imogen bent to stroke him. “We love having him around.”
“Well, I’m sure Ralph would happily devour a boeuf bourguignon, so make sure you don’t leave him alone in the kitchen.” Dorothy grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and started scribbling a shopping list for their trip. “The meat benefits from marinating overnight so we should probably shop this afternoon if we have time. Do you have plans?”
“Just wrapping the Christmas gifts I bought yesterday and getting ready for the play.” Imogen paused. “And I need to go and buy a stamp.”
“A stamp? For a card? I can give you one of those.” Sara opened her purse and found a stamp. “I thought you didn’t send cards.”
“I never have before. This is a first.” Imogen hesitated. “I had another call from Tina.”
Sara’s smile faded. “Oh.”
“I ignored it. I was on my dream date.”
“Good for you.”
Sara scooted her chair closer to Imogen’s and put her hand on her arm. “Did she leave a message?”
“Just that I should call her,” Imogen said. “Which means she must want something.”
Ralph dropped his bone on the floor and crossed the room to her.
“Are you going to call her?”
“I almost did this morning. Partly because that’s what I always do—it’s hardwired into me—and partly because I’m upset and I want answers. She made the decision to cut you out of her life, and she made that decision for all of us. She didn’t give me a choice and she didn’t give you a choice.” Imogen stroked Ralph’s head. “I considered going back to London for the day and hammering on her door so that I could get those answers face-to-face.”
“If you want to go and talk to her in person, then I’ll come with you,” Sara said immediately, and Imogen gave a wavering smile.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to know that you’d do that. But you don’t need to, because I’m not going.”
Dorothy felt a huge wave of relief. She’d been so afraid that Tina might somehow manage to disrupt the new tender shoots of their relationship.
“You’re not?”
“No. I talked it through with Miles, and I realized that getting answers won’t make any difference to how I feel. There is nothing she can say that will change anything, so in a way her reasons don’t matter, do they? It’s done. It happened. It’s in the past. Even if she were to say she was sorry and that she regretted it, it wouldn’t change where we are now. And I’d rather focus on where we are now.”
“So are you going to return her call?”
“No. I’ve written her a Christmas card. My first ever card.” Imogen gave a half smile. “And in the card I told her that I’d met you, and that moving forward you’re going to be part of my life. A big part. And if she would also like to be part of my life and have a proper relationship, then she can get in touch. But if it is to stand a chance of working she needs to stop blaming me, and also you, for the choices she made, and start taking responsibility. Obviously I’d love an apology, but unless Santa can work miracles, I don’t suppose that will be coming my way anytime soon.”
Dorothy felt a rush of respect and something close to awe. “You’re really quite incredible.” Her voice broke a little and Imogen pulled a face.
“I’m really not,” she said. “I should have said it years ago, but I couldn’t bear the idea of cutting ties with the person I believed to be my only family, even if she was only interested in me for what I could provide. I wish I’d done things differently, but I’m not going to beat myself up about that. I did what felt right at the time, and that’s all you can do.”
I did what felt right at the time.
Dorothy felt a lump gather in her throat. That was true of her, too. She’d done what felt right at the time. And she’d beaten herself up about it ever since.
No more. She’d always believed in second chances. Maybe it was time to give herself a second chance.
She was going to follow Imogen’s example and leave the past where it belonged, in the past.
She was going to forgive herself for any mistakes she may have made. She was going to acknowledge that Tina’s choices were her own.
And instead of regretting all those years she hadn’t had Imogen in her life, she was going to be grateful for the years they had ahead.
And suddenly she knew. She knew exactly what she was going to give Imogen for Christmas.