Page 7 of The Holiday Cottage

“Of course he wouldn’t bite them. And yes, they can borrow Benson.”

“Do you think he’d tolerate wearing a pair of antlers?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Dorothy smiled at the thought. “Anything else? The Herdwick sheep are friendly. You could borrow a couple.”

“I did wonder about taking Romeo and Juliet.”

Dorothy winced and shook her head. “Not unless you want the play to turn into a pantomime. You know what goats are like.”

“They’re adorable.”

“They eat everything in sight, Sara.”

“That’s true. I suppose you’re right. Fine. Just Benson then. And maybe a sheep. I’ll ask.”

“I could invite Miles to join us,” Dorothy said. “It would be useful to have a vet there.”

Sara laughed. “There is no way Miles would say yes, not after that incident a few years ago when Bryony Wilson had a glass of wine in the interval and cornered him in the corridor.”

“You’re probably right. I’ll be the alpaca wrangler then.”

“Great. Thanks, Mum. Now that the renovations are finished on Holly Cottage, are you going to give it back to the letting agency?”

“No. I’m going to deal with it in January.”

Holly Cottage had once been the gatehouse for the estate, and Dorothy had been offering it as a holiday let for the past ten years. Over the summer she’d employed a local builder to update it. The work had taken much longer than anticipated thanks to the unpredictability of old cottages, but she was thrilled with the result. They’d kept all the character and charm, but updated everything from the heating system to the plumbing.

“It’s looking great,” Sara said. “While we’re on the subject of Christmas, we haven’t firmed up details for this year. The girls are hoping we could all stay with you at the house if that works.”

Dorothy felt a lump form in her throat. “You don’t have to do that, Sara. I’ll be perfectly fine. You were with Patrick’s family last year. You should have Christmas in your own home for once. I’ll come for the day.”

“I spend plenty of time in my own home,” Sara said. “We’d much rather come to you. If you can bear to have us, of course. That way I can have a blissful Christmas lying around on the sofa doing nothing, while you run around the kitchen and entertain your hyperactive grandchildren. Who’d say no to that?” Her phone pinged and she checked her message, while Dorothy wondered how it was that Sara always managed to make her smile and feel positive about Christmas.

It was a miracle really because part of her was dreading Christmas, the way she always dreaded Christmas. It didn’t matter how many years passed, it was still painful. And Sara knew that of course. In many ways it was as difficult for Sara as it was for her. They’d lived through those days together. She sometimes wondered if she would have survived if it hadn’t been for her daughter.

She felt a rush of love, and also pride.

What a star Sara was, and never more so than at Christmas. She’d made a conscious decision that they were going to turn Christmas into something wonderful, and instead of keeping it low-key she always insisted that they celebrate in a big way.

She glanced briefly at her daughter. Sara was replying to the message on her phone. Her head was down and her hair had slid forward, a curtain of pale gold, leaving Dorothy with a glimpse of just her long eyelashes and the curve of her cheek. For a moment Dorothy saw her as a young girl, not as a married woman with two children of her own.

Sara. Always so responsible. So caring. Some children were nothing but a worry. Sara had never been one of those.

“Patrick says it’s pizza night.” Sara sent the message. “You’re invited. He and the girls have already made the dough and the tomato sauce. Which basically means I’m going to have to redecorate the kitchen when I get home. Do you see now why I’m desperate to come to you for Christmas?”

Dorothy laughed and for a moment she was tempted by the invitation to join them for pizza. An evening with her grandchildren was guaranteed to distract her and lift her somber mood, but she was ready to spend some time at home.

“Not tonight, but I appreciate the invitation.”

“Are you sure?” There was concern in Sara’s voice. “Are you going to sit and feel sad?”

“No. I’ve been in London all week. Far too long. I’m going to spend the evening checking on the animals and finding out what has been happening in my absence.”

“If you change your mind, come on over. You know Patrick always overcaters.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“And will you let us come to you for Christmas? Is it too much of an invasion? Be honest. I promise I won’t really lounge on the sofa. We’ll all help, including the girls, although their kind of help often ends up doubling the workload.”

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