Page 39 of The Holiday Cottage

“I will.” Sara shivered as thick flakes of snow started to fall. “Mum, it’s icy and the forecast is terrible. Why don’t you call Imogen and postpone?”

“Because I don’t want to postpone. This is an enormous project. I want to stay on top of it, and anyway I’m looking forward to seeing Imogen. It will be the last time I see her before Christmas. It’s not just work, it’s also pleasure. This is my opportunity to thank her for all her hard work. I’ll take my time driving, and the roads will be clear once I’m away from the country lanes.” She didn’t tell Sara that she had already called Imogen to confirm because of the weather, but hadn’t had a reply. It was unusual, because Imogen always answered Dorothy’s call immediately, and on the odd occasion when she hadn’t she’d called right back. But not this time. Dorothy had left three messages, and Imogen still hadn’t returned her call. She’d almost contacted Rosalind to check everything was all right, but she didn’t want to risk getting Imogen into trouble by revealing that her calls hadn’t been returned. She was probably in the middle of supervising an event. She’d mentioned that she had a busy December.

Dorothy intended to drive to London, spend the night in the little apartment she’d bought many years before and then tomorrow she’d head to the restaurant as agreed. Imogen would be there, she was sure.

She knew so little about Imogen’s life outside work, but she did know that she was reliable.

“Message me when you arrive,” Sara said. “That’s if you’re not stuck in traffic until Christmas Eve. Everything is crazy at this time of year.”

“I enjoy my trip to London at Christmas. Stop worrying. And anyway, this isn’t just about meeting Imogen. I need to do some Christmas shopping. A certain toy shop is calling me.” She winked at her granddaughter, who grinned back.

Dorothy cleared the snow from her car.

“Have you called to confirm?” Sara looked troubled. “You should call and confirm.”

“The table is booked. Imogen has never in her life not done something she said she was going to do. She is the most reliable person I have ever worked with.” She bent down and kissed Ava. “Remember. You’re in charge.”

“Got it.” Ava saluted. “I’m the boss.”

“You are the boss.” Dorothy hugged her, and then her daughter. “I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone. And I’ll be bearing gifts.”

“Go, Nanna,” Ava urged. “Go now!”

“Ava, that is not polite.” Sara spoke firmly although the effect was slightly lessened by the fact she was trying not to laugh.

“Nanna said it, not me. I didn’t ask.”

Dorothy smiled and gave them a wave as she drove off. She knew Sara worried, but that was because they were so close. After Phillip had died, it had been just the two of them. She worried about Sara just as much.

Once she reached the main roads, her drive was easier than Sara had predicted and she reached London in good time.

She parked in the underground garage and headed up to the top floor.

She’d bought the apartment the year after Phillip died. It had been a sound financial investment, which also gave her a London base. She’d never been a lover of impersonal hotels.

The apartment wasn’t large—just one bedroom—but it had a glorious roof terrace with expansive views toward the River Thames. And she didn’t need anything large. This place suited her purpose perfectly, and when Sara stayed too she slept on the sofa.

Dorothy unpacked the homemade soup she’d brought with her and heated it on the stove in the kitchen while she checked her phone. Imogen hadn’t returned her call and she turned the stove off and called again, promising herself this would be the last time.

Imogen’s voice sang cheerfully out of the phone.

You’ve reached Imogen. Please leave a message and I’ll get right back to you.

Dorothy didn’t leave another message. Instead, she ended the call and poured the soup into a bowl. She wasn’t the sort of person who expected the people she worked with to be available 100 percent of the time. She knew Imogen was in demand and busy, but still this was unusual.

She told herself that if something was wrong, Imogen would have found the time to call.

And anyway, even if Imogen had rung her to cancel, she still would have come to London.

She planned to do some Christmas shopping and enjoy the lights and festive displays in London.

Everything was going to be fine.

10

Imogen

Imogen braced herself and pushed through the revolving glass door that led into the foyer of the office building where she worked. Her head throbbed after a night without sleep and she felt nauseous as she contemplated what lay ahead. She half expected to be apprehended by security, or to discover that her pass had stopped working, but she made it through the barriers without incident. No one gave her a second glance as she headed to the elevator. To an outsider it probably looked like a normal day.

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