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“Thanks,” Lucy replied.

“Sorry,” mouthed Mary, knowing Lucy well enough to be sure she didn’t want to be the centre of attention. “OK, everyone,” Mary went on to announce, standing up and drawing everyone’s attention to her, much to Lucy’s relief. “I think we’d better get started.”

The evening was as lovely and entertaining as always, though Lucy did feel like a celebrity with everyone fussing over her and asking her about her pregnancy. No one asked her directly who the father was but, of course, they’d be wondering if they didn’t already know and she couldn’t just come out with it. She decided to rely on the power of gossip to do the work for her over the next few days. That should do the trick.

Part of her was glad when things drew to a close and people began clearing up. She couldn’t wait to get back home and get into some comfy clothes and relax . . . with Dylan. She couldn’t even be cross with herself about that. She was tired and he was good company.

She left after saying goodbyes to everyone at least twice and let herself into the coffee shop. It looked lovely, all clean and tidy and ready for business the next day. She always felt so proud of the beautiful space she’d created, a place people seemed to love to come to, and now the Christmas decorations made it look extra special. It felt strange that she’d been so worried about Dylan being a part of it. All he’d done was enhance the place and make things easier for her in any way he could.

She found herself hurrying upstairs with that thought. But when she went into the flat, Dylan wasn’t there. She checked her phone and discovered a WhatsApp message from him. Gone to hang out with Michael. Lucy felt a little flat. She went into her bedroom and took a shower before getting into a hoodie and leggings. She rolled over the top of her leggings so they’d sit under her little bump, and took a moment to admire it in the mirror, turning from side to side.

She left her bedroom wondering what she should do so she began unloading the clean dishes out of the dishwasher. How long would Dylan be? She could just message and ask . . . that seemed more than a little pathetic though. Like she was desperate for him to return. Which she absolutely wasn’t. It would just be nice to know so she could make her own plans. She’d message him. She picked up her phone, deliberating what to type so she accurately got across exactly how chilled she felt about this. Hey she’d decided would be a breezy beginning. She was debating typing Dylan next when she heard the door at the bottom of the flat’s stairs open and the man himself call out, “Honey, I’m hoooommmmeeee,” in the most awfully exaggerated American accent.

“Did Michael chuck you out?” Lucy said, lightly as he came into the room.

Dylan went straight over to the kettle. “Nope, but I knew you’d be back when Carrie was so I had a chat with her for a few minutes and then headed home.” He filled the kettle with enough water for them both and put it on to boil. “Please don’t tell me you’re too tired to watch an episode of Downton Abbey with me. I’ll be devastated,” he said.

Lucy did her best to hide the smile she felt forming. “I can watch an episode with you,” she said. “You make the tea, I’ll get Netflix up.”

She went into the sitting room, trying to ignore how content she was at how the evening had turned out.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she called to him. “Just a sec.”

She headed to her bedroom and soon returned with a package which she handed to Dylan after he placed their drinks on the coffee table. “I got this for us to do.”

“A paper chain kit?” he said.

“Yep, an essential part of Christmas.”

Dylan laughed. “Fair enough. Let’s get an episode of Downton on and get started.”

It took them the entire episode to use up the whole packet of paper bits.

“It’s beautiful,” Dylan said, holding it out so it could be properly admired. “Look at the artistry. Well, my bits anyway. Seriously, Luce, how difficult is it to match up two ends of paper?”

“It’s fine!” Lucy retorted.

“I guess it genuinely looks like a toddler helped to make it . . .”

“Oi!” Lucy said, play-punching his arm.

“Remind me to teach you how to punch properly sometime,” Dylan said.

“Thank you, I can imagine that coming in very handy.”

Dylan grinned. “Where are we going to hang this then? How about in the kitchen? We haven’t got much decoration in there.”

“Sure,” said Lucy, smiling as he got up and carried the paper chain through to the other room.

“Tell me about Christmas when you were small,” Dylan said when he returned with fresh cups of tea for them both and took up his sofa position, pulling the blanket up higher over himself.

“It’s not very exciting,” Lucy said.

“It is to me,” said Dylan and Lucy immediately felt bad.

“Well, you know I’m an only child, so it was just me and my mum and dad. But my gran and grandad came on Christmas Day, and we usually visited my aunt on Boxing Day, which was fun because all my cousins were there. That was one of my favourite parts of Christmas.” She stopped, looking over at Dylan to check he was still interested.

“I was always so excited when school broke up,” she continued. “We’d put the Christmas tree up that night and decorate it with carols playing in the background, just like we did,” she said with a smile. “Christmas actually started in November though, when I helped my mum make the Christmas pudding.”