The rest of the family joined them over the next thirty minutes and all expressed varying degrees of dismay at the weather. Scott checked the trains and most were cancelled, so Lottie definitely had the delight of her mother’s company for at least another twenty-four hours. Uncle Daniel was confident of being able to get where he wanted to go in his Range Rover, even if he had to take it off-road. However, after checking the motorways, he was waiting for more snowploughs to be deployed to the area.
Eventually, they sat down to a cobbled-together breakfast. Lottie was quite pleased with the bubble and squeak she’d managed to rustle up using the rest of the Brussels sprouts and leftover potatoes, and everyone was tucking in.
The bell chimed through the house and Lottie went to answer the door. She very much hoped it wasn’t Joe. She opened the door to Petra, the landlady from the pub, bundled up in a parka and wellies.
‘Come in,’ said Lottie, keen to shut out the blustery weather.
Petra stepped over the mound of snow at the door and gave her a hug in greeting. ‘I just wanted to let you know that the lane is blocked out of Dumbleford, thanks to loads of snow and a truck that’s been abandoned, and none of the cars can get up Henbourne Hill.’
‘Ah. So we’re a bit snowed in then.’
‘A bit?’ said Petra, with a laugh. ‘A lot. Even Giles couldn’t get his Land Rover up the hill this morning. And Shirley had to abandon her Morris Minor at the bottom. We’ve given up trying to dig out the cars at the pub.’
Lottie’s shoulders rounded forwards. This was not what she wanted to hear. ‘Okay. Thanks for walking all the way up here to tell me. You could have rung.’
Petra was shaking her head. ‘Nope. The snow has brought down the phone lines, and I don’t have your mobile number. But there is good news.’ Lottie wasn’t getting her hopes up. ‘We have plenty of food at the pub, so we’re doing a big buffet lunch today for ten pounds a head. If you want to brave the snow, we’d love to see you.’
‘Petra, that is good news. Thank you.’ At least she wouldn’t have to cook a main meal today.
‘Oh, and top gossip.’ She leaned in close, almost scooping Lottie into her parka hood. ‘Apparently Meghan Markle is hiding out in the village,’ she whispered with a wink.
‘No, she’s not,’ said Lottie, her gut tightening at the thought of Megan and Joe together. ‘It’s just a woman who looks a bit like her. She’s Joe Broomfield’s partner.’
‘The vet?’
‘Yeah, that’s the guy.’
‘He seems lovely. He was the talk of the pub on Christmas Day,’ she said, giving Lottie a sideways look. ‘You came up in that conversation too.’
Lottie rolled her lips together. ‘Yeah … that was a long time ago, Petra.’
‘Before my time,’ she said, and she opened the door. ‘Hope to see you later. Take care.’
‘Definitely, reserve us a table for …’ she counted them off on her fingers, ‘nine.’ A bark came from the kitchen, ‘And one dog.’
‘Consider it done.’ And the door closed behind her.
So everyone in the village knew her past – and now they would have the next instalment of the story of Joe Broomfield. One that no longer included her.
Lottie puffed out a breath. There comes a time to let go and move on to the next chapter. Lottie had a feeling that now was that time.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The general mood was downbeat. The snow had scuppered everyone’s plans, and no amount of refreshing the weather forecast was going to make the snow disappear any quicker. Lottie was keen that they didn’t dissolve into their usual family bickering and that they somehow made the best of things – she just had to think of something to keep them occupied.
The first half of the morning was quite easy; Jessie managed to persuade virtually everyone to go outside to play snowballs and make a family of snowmen with her, with the exception of Rhys, who was still asleep, and Angie, who – according to her – didn’t have anything appropriate to wear for snow. Dave had had a whale of a time chasing snowballs, but had been puzzled every time he’d tried to bite one and it had instantly disappeared.
Lottie made a vat of hot chocolate, and an almond milk-based version for Scott, who was very grateful; he just managed to stop her spoiling it by adding marshmallows, which apparently contained gelatin. She’d learned a lot about vegan food this Christmas, which might come in handy if Scott and her mother stayed together for a bit longer.
‘Can we make more snowmen after this?’ asked Jessie, spooning more marshmallows into what remained of her hot chocolate. There was a collective groan from around the kitchen table as everyone warmed their numb hands on their mugs.
Rhys meandered into the kitchen to mumbled greetings. ‘What time are we leaving?’ he asked, looking between his parents.
Nicola shook her head. ‘For someone as intelligent as you, that is a very stupid question.’
Rhys turned to his father and Daniel pointed at the window. Rhys strained his neck. ‘It’s snowing.’
‘Congratulations. The undisputed winner of the Stating-the-bleeding-obvious Award goes to Rhys Collins,’ said Zach and he ruffled Rhys’s hair. Rhys batted him away, and a good-natured boyish tussle ensued.
