Sofia pulled out her phone and stared at the screen. ‘It’s gone one o’clock,’ she said. ‘I’d have been serving Christmas dinner in an hour.’
Peg reached forward to claim a chicken and bacon sandwich. ‘Sofia, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I think you need to forget about your turkey, about the fact that it’s Christmas. I don’t think you’re going to be eating your dinner today, and you might not be eating it tomorrow either.’
‘But all the food? And the preparation? I’ve been up since six getting everything ready. And we haven’t even opened our presents.’
Peg injected as much warmth as she could into her expression. ‘Yes, I know,’ she said gently. ‘But Henry could be in theatre for quite some time, and it will be a while after that before you’re able to see him, depending on how things are. The broken bones are only the start of it. A collapsed lung is serious, particularly if the injury from his rib was bad enough that they have to operate on it.’
‘Wait, he has a collapsed lung?’
Peg nodded, softening her expression even further.
‘That’s what the surgeon meant when he said a rib had punctured it. The chest area where the lungs are located is airtight; it’s not meant to have a hole in it. If the air pressure changes it can cause all sorts of problems. Henry wouldn’t have been able to breathe, for one thing.’
Sofia nodded. ‘It was horrible. He was gasping…’ She stared at the tray in front of her but Peg knew that wasn’t what she was seeing. Her gaze had turned inward.
‘So what will they do?’ she asked.
Peg shook her head. ‘I don’t know exactly, but mend the hole, reinflate his lung and hope it holds.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m not trying to be unkind, but it’s better if you know what you’re dealing with.’
Sofia’s eyes were sharp on hers. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘I watch a lot of medical dramas,’ lied Peg. She added a slice of Bakewell tart to the tray. ‘Why don’t you have something?’ she said. ‘You probably haven’t eaten, and even if you don’t fancy it now, you might in another hour or so. How about a ham sandwich?’
Sofia scrutinised the wrapper of an egg salad roll and reluctantly added it to the collection of food. ‘Do they have any turkey?’ she asked. ‘Poor Adam.’
‘Yes, with cranberry sauce and stuffing. Will that be all right?’
A few minutes later they picked their way through the dining room to a table by the window. An empty cup had been left there and Peg moved it to one beside them.
‘I made a pavlova, too,’ said Sofia. ‘With pomegranate seeds. It looked beautiful, like it was covered in tiny jewels. I told Mum to eat it, so I doubt there’ll even be much left when we get home.’
Peg drew in a slow breath. ‘I’d forgotten that Blanche was staying with you.’ It was something else Peg would have to think about. But not just now.
Sofia nodded. ‘It was Blanche who worked out where Henry had been going when he crashed his car. He was only half a mile from your village, so she said it made sense, and I guess it does if you think about it. Had you invited him over, was that it? He probably didn’t even want to spend the day with us at all.’
‘I’m sure he did,’ Peg answered, even though she had no idea whether that was true. ‘I don’t know Henry all that well. Hardly at all, actually. But I do know that he was very keen to spend time with you. I think he wished he and Adam were closer.’
‘Well, he shouldn’t go picking fights then, should he? Nothing was ever good enough for him. Nothing I did pleased him.’
Thinking back to their conversation in the traffic jam, Peg didn’t think that was the problem at all. ‘Perhaps he didn’t want you going to so much trouble for him,’ she said. ‘I can see how that might make it look like he wasn’t grateful when, in fact, it’s almost the opposite. Perhaps he felt bad about it.’
‘Hmm.’ Sofia clearly wasn’t convinced.
‘And I’m sure the argument was one of those heat-of-the-moment situations. People say things they don’t really mean, and Christmas can make everyone a bit on edge. Too many hopes pinned on it being a perfect day.’ Peg was keen to ensure that if things ended badly, Sofia and Adam’s last thoughts about Henry wouldn’t be sour ones.
Sofia seemed to come to the same conclusion. ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she said. ‘We shouldn’t focus on that now.’
Peg nodded, somewhat relieved that they weren’t about to dissect Henry’s relationship with his son and daughter-in-law, but shewasstill curious to know why Henry had chosen to visit her. Peg still had no real idea why she was here – that she was needed was indisputable, but the why of it all continued to escape her.
‘I think Henry said that you’re an interior designer. Is that right?’ she asked, changing the subject.
Sofia pulled at the packaging containing her roll. ‘I have my own business,’ she said. ‘You can’t believe how busy I’ve been in the run-up to Christmas, with people wanting everything to befinished. Plus, I’ve been posting daily, all the tips and hacks I’ve picked up along the way. My social media has beeninsane…’
‘Oh dear,’ said Peg. ‘I’m afraid I steer well clear of all that. I write for a magazine. Only occasionally now, but back in the day when I was an editor, I looked after all the Christmas features. It got too much though, especially given that the articles were written over the summer. I’m afraid it turned me away from all the hype over the season, and I prefer things to be simpler now.’ She smiled. ‘I stick with gardening, and nature. It’s far less pressured.’
‘Oh, it’s not pressure…’ replied Sofia. ‘It’s about wanting things to look nice, having fun with it. People like to try new things and follow fashions, they always have.’
‘I suppose,’ said Peg, suddenly feeling rather conspicuous in her voluminous dress and scruffy shoes. ‘But it’s made everything so commercial. As if you can’t have a good time unless you’re wearing matching pyjamas and buy an Advent calendar that costs three hundred pounds.’
