Page 81 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

‘I know,’ he said, ushering her into the house. ‘I’m just kidding. So – to what do I owe the honour?’

She reached up to hug him, and she registered the unusual hesitation before his arms closed around her.

‘I’m really sorry about you and Sarah,’ she said, her voice muffled as her face was pressed into his broad shoulder. ‘And I’m sorry I’ve been such a crap friend – don’t deny it, I know I have.’

He released her. ‘I wasn’t going to deny it.’

Ouch.

‘Well, I’m here to make it up to you,’ she said. ‘I’ve brought mince pies, and I’m here for whatever you need.’

He looked dubious. ‘You’ve been baking?’

‘Of course not,’ she said, hopping about as she pulled her boots off. ‘Marnie’s been baking. I’ve been buying.’ Even this wasn’t strictly true; Julia had bought the mince pies, Jen had basically stolen them, but she didn’t feel he needed to know that particular piece of information.

‘Oh, cool.’

She tried not to be offended by his obvious relief.

She followed him to the little kitchen, where he put the kettle on.

‘I’ll do that,’ she said, waving him out of the way. ‘You sit down.’

‘I’m not an actual invalid,’ he grumbled, but he allowed himself to be shooed off, slumping onto a chair at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

Jen found and washed out the cafetière, and gave the milk a sniff before deciding it was safe. Last time she’d been there the place had been immaculate, but now there were dirty plates and mugs strewn around and crumbs littering the countertops. She began to load the dishwasher and wipe the surfaces while the kettle boiled.

‘You don’t need to do that,’ Ted said, without taking his head out of his hands.

‘I know,’ she said, continuing. She poured water into the cafetière, and a rich aroma filled the room. She placed it and the mugs on the table and sat opposite him. ‘I’m sorry you’re having a tough time,’ she said.

He sighed, and when he looked up there were tears in his eyes. Something tore inside Jen, seeing his pain. She placed her hand on his.

‘I know it’s the right thing to do,’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘It’s just – it’s just hard right now. But it wasn’t fair to carry on. She deserves better than me.’

Jen felt a stab of pain, that he could even think such a thing. She squeezed his hand. ‘There is no better than you.’

He shook his head, his eyes locked on hers. ‘No, there is. For her, at least. I wasn’t – wasn’t in it the way I should’ve been. She called me out on some stuff, and she was right, she – she deserves better.’

He nodded, sighed, rubbed a hand over his eyes.

Jen had to hold back her own tears; she needed to be the one comforting him this time. But it was so hard to see him suffer, this strong, sweet man with a heart of gold. And a really bad sense of humour. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.

He gave a shaky laugh and groaned. ‘Ugh, I’m too old for this.’

‘Rubbish!’ She grinned. ‘You’re practically a baby.’

‘And I just – it feels like everything’s falling apart, you know? I mean, work’s great, don’t get me wrong, I love the kids and the school, but I just can’t see how I’m going to pull this fair off and they’re all counting on me, and—’

‘Ah, but that’s why I’m here.’

She gave him a dazzling smile. He looked sceptical, to say the least.

‘You?’

She tried not to take his very obvious doubt personally; he was having a tough time.

‘Yes. I’m a very capable person, I think you’ll find.’