Page 116 of The Holiday Cottage

“It’s more than fine. Did you see the expression on Miles’s face when he saw that dress?” Sara winked at Imogen. “He definitely wanted to unwrap you.”

He’d unwrapped her many times over the past week, but she didn’t tell them that.

She was discovering that there were some things that you didn’t share, even with family.

They worked side by side in the kitchen until Dorothy was satisfied that lunch could look after itself for a while and then they returned to the living room, where Ava’s excitement levels were almost off the scale.

“Everything is under control in the kitchen,” Dorothy said, “so let’s take a few moments together before our guests arrive. I think it’s time for Imogen to open some of her gifts.”

“Ava and I will get them for you, Imogen.” Flushed and excited, Iris scrambled under the tree with her sister, checking labels and emerging with boxes of different shapes and sizes.

Imogen watched, feeling self-conscious.

A stocking with her name embroidered on it was placed on her lap, lumpy and stiff with gifts.

She squeezed it in awe. “This is—” she swallowed “—my first stocking.”

“What?” Ava was astounded. “Why? Didn’t Santa know where you lived? Did you not write to him?”

“I never wrote to him.”

“Never? From now on we’ll write together.” Ava launched herself onto the sofa next to Imogen. “Shall I help you open them?”

It was only a few weeks before that she’d been dreading another lonely Christmas, and now here she was, surrounded by family and presents and more warmth than she’d felt in a long time.

“I’d love some help.”

“I’ll help too.” Iris sat down on the other side of her.

“You’re taking too long!” Ava thrust a gift at Imogen and she laughed and unwrapped it, and then another and another, until she was feeling completely overwhelmed by their generosity.

And then they opened their presents from her, and she felt a glow of happiness at their excited response. She was grateful to Miles for their Christmas shopping trip, and not only because it was one of the happiest days she could remember.

She hadn’t had a response from her mother to the Christmas card she’d sent, but it didn’t matter. Maybe she’d be in touch, and maybe she wouldn’t. But Imogen knew that with the support of Dorothy, Sara and also Miles, she’d handle whatever happened.

“By the way, this came for you yesterday, by special delivery.” Sara handed her a big box. “The postmark is London.”

London?

Mystified, Imogen opened the box and found a card from Rosalind, Anya, Janie, Sophie and the rest of the team.

Happy Christmas Imogen. We miss you! Can’t wait to have you back—we’re sick of doing all your work

Imogen swallowed.

We miss you.

She felt a lump in her throat. When she’d sent the Christmas card to her mother, she’d sent another to her colleagues, and she’d included a letter that told them everything. It had felt easier to do it in a letter, somehow. To write it down. She’d been dreading their response, but now they’d sent her this.

“They’ve sent you a present.” Ava dug her hand into the box and pulled out a soft toy. “It’s a dog. I love it, although not as much as the alpaca you got me! It looks a bit like Ralph.”

“It’s not for you.” Iris pried it from her sister’s grasp and handed it to Imogen.

The stuffed dog did indeed look like Ralph, but round its neck was a tag that read Midas.

She smiled and suddenly felt that everything might, after all, be okay.

They’d accepted what she’d told them. They’d acceptedher.

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