Page 83 of The Holiday Cottage

Patrick lifted an eyebrow. “The guy’s a vet. How much more ready can he be?”

“Well, exactly. But he wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it for Imogen,” Sara said softly. “I think he could see how much comfort that dog was giving her.”

“Miles is a good guy. Now eat.” Patrick picked up the fork and speared some cake. He held it out to her. “You missed lunch.”

She leaned forward and ate the cake he offered. “Mmm. That’s good.” She took the fork from him and ate half the cake, then pushed the plate back toward him. “You have the rest.”

“I’d rather you ate it.”

“I’ve had enough. I’m not that hungry.”

He watched her for a moment. “You’ve told me a lot about Imogen. Now tell me about you.”

“What about me?”

“How do you feel about the whole thing? I know how much you hate talking about it.”

“I do, and that’s the funny thing. It was difficult of course, but not as difficult as I thought it would be.” She paused. “I’ve spent so much of my life deliberately not giving it space in my life, running away from it, ignoring it. Then I was finally forced to confront it, and I didn’t feel anywhere near as bad as I thought I would. Talking it through with Imogen was almost freeing. As if it was the end of a chapter. Does that make any sense?”

“Yes. And it sounds good.”

Sara took a sip of tea. “I love my life. The life we have built together. And it feels as if Imogen might become part of it. A positive part, rather than the part I’m constantly trying not to look at.”

“And Tina?”

Sara put her mug down. “I used to feel so bad that I wasn’t close to my sister. It felt unnatural somehow. I even blamed myself for some of it. Was I needy? Did I demand too much of my parents’ attention? Was it my fault that she was jealous?”

He sighed. “Sara—”

“I know! But even when you know it’s not your fault, you can still think it. But today when my mother was telling Imogen all of it, I didn’t think any of those things. At some point over the years I’ve stopped thinking of Tina as my sister. Or maybe I’ve lost that idealistic belief that sisters should be close. I don’t know when that happened. The people I love, the people I’m close to, aren’t my sister. And that’s okay.”

“You may not be close to your sister, but you have friends who are as close as family.”

“Yes.” She thought about her exchange with Paul earlier and how much she was looking forward to catching up with them all over the holidays. She knew that in a crisis, she could call on any one of them and they’d drop everything and come to her. And she would do the same for them. She’d come a long way. Further than she’d ever acknowledged. “And now I have a niece. And the girls will have a cousin.” She watched as he finished off the cake. “Imogen is coming with us tomorrow. Is that okay with you? I probably should have checked before I invited her. It was an impulse.”

“It was a good impulse.” He grinned. “Providing we’re not too much for her. If she’s never had experience of family, our Christmas tree trip might be a bit of a shock to the system. We’ll have to try and rein Ava in so she doesn’t scare Imogen back to London.”

“I think Ava may break the ice.”

“And there will be actual ice if it doesn’t stop snowing.” Patrick glanced out of the window. “Can you believe we might have a white Christmas? The kids would love that.”

“The kids?” She tilted her head and looked at her husband. “You wouldn’t like it at all, of course.”

“Me? No. Total pain. I can’t stand snowmen and snowballs, sledding and all those other fun—I mean terrible things.” He narrowed his eyes and a faint smile played around his mouth. “When did we last have a snowball fight?”

“I’m too old to have a snowball fight.” She leaned forward. “I forgot to tell you—Miles and Ralph are also joining us tomorrow.”

“Miles? That’s interesting. Is there something going on do you think?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t been involved with anyone since Zara, and he only just met Imogen. But he seemed almost protective.”

“Perhaps he was just being kind.”

“Maybe.” It had seemed a little more than that to her. “He’s never come with us to get a tree before. Lissa always chooses his tree and decorates it. She complains that he doesn’t know a fir from a fern.”

Patrick laughed. “He’s not the only one. Do you think Imogen talked to him? Told him everything?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know her well enough to guess. Miles is a pretty good listener, so maybe. Although I get the sense Imogen is very independent and used to surviving on her own. Either way, he’s coming along tomorrow.”

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