competing with the high level of chatter and general merriment. I head to the kitchen where Bev, Alan and Jess are already busy. I join Jess in laying out the plates ready for Bev to dish up.
‘How are you liking the manor cottage?’ I ask Jess as we work.
‘It’s great,’ she says. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Molly. We’ve only been there for a short while, yet for the first time in years I feel that I can breathe properly.’
‘Have you heard from your husband?’ I venture.
‘He started to bombard me – and Penny – with calls and texts. I didn’t answer them and now I’ve changed my phone number. I’ll have to contact him in the New Year to start divorce proceedings, but I hope I can do all of that through a solicitor.’
‘Good for you. I’ll help wherever I can. Meanwhile, try to relax and enjoy Christmas together. You’ve got plenty of food in?’
‘Yes. It will be nice for me and Penny to spend a relaxing time together without worrying about . . .’ She tails off. ‘Christmas has always been a bit of a tinder box for us.’
I can imagine. ‘Well, if you can bear some chaos, you’re more than welcome to come to the caravan for Boxing Day. Alan and Bev will be there too, so it will be a tight squeeze and lunch will be completely random food, but it would be lovely to have you.’
‘That’s very kind of you. We’d really like to come.’
‘Good.’ We give each other a hug.
My Christmas gift shopping has all been very last minute and, with Lucas’s help, entirely done online, but I did get a couple of little presents for them both. I’ve bought presents for Alan and Bev too and a little thank you for Matt, though we won’t see him now. It will have to wait until January when, hopefully, he’ll be back at Hope Farm again. I’ve bought nothing for Shelby, though. What do you buy for the man who has everything? I don’t expect anything from him either. He supports the farm and that’s all that matters to me.
It might not surprise you to know that he and I have hardly spoken since our last encounter. Shelby has been frantically busy with his last week of panto and getting prepared for his move to Los Angeles. I’ve been rushed off my feet here. But it’s all excuses. You can find time for the one you love if you want to. In truth, the bonds have been broken and, though I am terribly sad that this didn’t work out, I feel it’s the right thing for both of us.
‘Come on, Molly Dolly Daydream,’ Bev says. ‘Snap out of it. There are three trays of roast spuds ready and waiting to be dished up.’
‘Right.’ I pull myself out of my reverie and set to with my big spoon, doling out a few of Bev’s golden, crispy potatoes onto each plate. Jess follows behind me with the veg and Alan adds a slice of nut roast and finishes with a flourish of gravy before Lucas serves the plates to the table. There are dishes of cranberry and bread sauce on the table.
It’s hot work in the kitchen and Bev wipes her brow with her forearm before puffing out a breath. She and Alan were in here early this morning getting all the veg peeled and prepped for the hungry hordes. She looks over her shoulder at me. ‘Where’s that flipping Hot Mayor when we need him?’
‘On his way up to see his family by now, I think.’
‘It’s a shame he’s not here.’
‘Yes.’ I can only agree with that. He’s been a good friend and great help over the last few weeks and I miss him more than I thought I would.
With a concerted effort, we get the dinners out to everyone while they’re still hot.‘Last few. Here you go, Jess. One for you too, Alan.’ Then Bev pushes a plate at me. ‘You’re done here, Mols. You take yours now.’
‘You’ve got one too?’
‘Last one. Perfect portioning, if I do say so myself.’
‘You’re a wonder,’ I agree.
So I take my plate and go out from the kitchen into the tea room. And, as I go to take my place at the head of the table, I stop in my tracks. The sight before me takes my breath away. Lucas has switched on LED candles and fairy lights, which are threaded all along the table. The Christmas tree, lights