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‘You’re a good person, Fliss,’ he said, patting her shoulder. ‘So understanding. And we still haven’t found time for that chat, have we? You said there was something you wanted to speak to me about. Well, there’s something I want to speak to you about too. Let’s try and find some time, shall we, once the celebrations are out of the way?’

‘Of course.’ Fliss nodded, feeling a sense of relief. She would love to get Neville’s insight into her current situation, and ask his advice on what she should do next. She glanced up, feeling someone’s eyes on her, and saw Bill watching them as he took large gulps from a glass of Scotch. He began to make his way over, and Fliss sighed inwardly. It felt as though Bill always had some axe to grind, but he never came out and said exactly what he was thinking. She didn’t know how Sally put up with it.

‘What are you two talking about? Spilling our family secrets?’ Bill joked, but Lord Oliver looked annoyed.

‘Don’t be so ridiculous. I hope you’ve been making our guests feel welcome, rather than overindulging as usual. It’s important to take the time and speak to our neighbours.’

Fliss saw Bill roll his eyes, though Lord Oliver missed it. ‘I’m hardly the star attraction,’ Bill griped. ‘No one’s interested in talking to me. Which reminds me, are you donning your Father Christmas costume this year?’

‘Oh no, I’m too old for that,’ Neville said, waving away his son’s words.

‘I could do it, if you want,’ Bill interrupted, as Fliss looked at him sceptically. He wasn’t exactly warm and cuddly, though she imagined he would relish the attention.

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ Neville insisted.

‘I don’t mind,’ Bill continued, warming to his theme, as he took another slug of whisky. ‘If you tell me where the outfit is, I could just—’

‘I said no, Bill,’ Neville said firmly. ‘I’ve already—’

He was cut off by the sound of sleigh bells, as the children looked up in excitement. There were gasps and giddy whispers of ‘He’s here!’ as a magical frisson ran round the room.

‘Ho, ho, ho,’ came a booming voice from the top of the stairs. Everyone looked up to see Father Christmas standing there, a sack full of presents slung over his shoulder. Fliss gasped. Despite his fancy dress she would have recognised that broad, toned body, the dark eyes twinkling above the white beard, anywhere.

‘Merry Christmas, everyone!’ Kit called cheerily, making his way down the staircase as the children flocked to him. He sat down near the bottom step and began handing out presents as the parents swarmed around him taking pictures on their phones. It was a wonderful scene, full of joy and innocence, and the excitement in the room was palpable. There were butterflies fluttering in Fliss’s tummy as she watched the heartwarming scene, seeing how good Kit was with the children and their parents.

It seemed that there was only one person who wasn’t feeling the Christmas magic right then. Bill Oliver was standing at the back of the room with a furious expression on his face, clearly livid that his brother-in-law had stolen the moment.

Chapter 21

Fliss woke early on Christmas morning. There were distant noises outside her room, and she could hear that the rest of the house was waking up. Despite the fact that the kids were teenagers, there was still a sense of festive excitement, and she could hear their low chatter and giggling along the hall.

Fliss snuggled further down beneath her sheets, all warm and cosy. But although she could hear the old radiators clanking as they tried to give off heat, she knew from memory that it was cold in her room, that there would be condensation on the thin glass of the windows. Bracing herself, she jumped out of bed and pulled on her soft cashmere dressing gown over her silk pyjamas, then crossed the hall to the bathroom to quickly wash her face and brush her teeth.

She knew that the Olivers liked to spend Christmas morning informally, with everyone in their pyjamas and dressing gowns for present opening followed by a slap-up breakfast. They were then free to spend the day at leisure, before reconvening for Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, at which everyone was expected to dress up to the nines.

Fliss brushed her hair and put on a thin layer of make-up – tinted moisturiser, a pale berry lipstick and a slick of mascara – before heading downstairs.

‘Fliss, perfect timing,’ Elizabeth beamed, as she finished topping up a glass of Buck’s Fizz and handed it to Fliss as she stepped into the drawing room. ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas to you too,’ Fliss smiled, taking a sip and stepping further into the room as everyone turned round and raised their glasses, with a chorus of Christmas wishes.

Fliss was the last one down, and the scene in front of her looked idyllic. The enormous deep green Christmas tree gave off a delicious scent of pine which mingled with the smoke from the fire. Beneath the tree was a sea of presents, beautifully wrapped boxes covered in ribbons and bows, as carols from King’s College, Cambridge, played in the background. The teens were as excited as toddlers, seeming just as thrilled to open nostalgic presents like selection boxes as they were for their hi-tech gadgets.

The adults stood by the mantelpiece, drinks in hand, watching their children with delight. There were four stockings hanging there, embroidered with each of the children’s initials, and Fliss could see that even though they were teenagers now, Elizabeth still loved to stuff their stockings with traditional gifts, like chocolate coins and even a satsuma at the bottom.

For a moment, Fliss felt a pang, realising that she was the only one who wasn’t part of a couple, who didn’t have a child excitedly opening gifts. But then Sally came over and gave her a huge hug, handing her a beautifully wrapped present in forest green paper tied with a red velvet ribbon. ‘This is for you,’ she beamed.

‘Thank you, darling,’ Fliss replied, touched, as she settled her glass on a side table and examined the box. She glanced up, inadvertently searching the room for Kit before she realised what she was doing. Their eyes met, and she saw his face soften, as he raised his glass to her, a smile playing around his lips. She smiled back, her stomach doing a little flip at the sight of him in tartan pyjamas and a black fluffy robe, a smattering of dark chest hair peeping over the top. She had a sudden flashback to lying next to his naked chest twenty years ago, the two of them in his little flat. She remembered trailing her fingertips through the light covering of hair on his chest, their legs intertwined, her heart bursting with love and passion for him.

Tara reached out to Kit, placing a proprietary hand on his arm as she watched George open the VR headset he’d been desperate for. ‘This is so cool!’ he cried. ‘Jasper, have you seen this?’

Fliss’s fingers scrambled with the bow on her present, as she carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a distinctive orange Hermès box, containing a beautiful silk scarf in shades of emerald green and white.

‘Do you like it?’ Sally asked expectantly. ‘I thought it would go perfectly with your colouring.’

‘I love it!’ Fliss replied, throwing her arms around Sally. ‘Thank you so much, Sally, I wasn’t expecting anything.’

Fliss sat down in an armchair as the present opening began. She had crept down early to pop her own presents for everyone under the tree. She loved Christmas morning and the pleasure of giving, and watching others receive. She was glad she had made the effort to go shopping as she opened so many thoughtful gifts. Neville and Elizabeth had bought her a gorgeous notebook from Smythson, whilst Katie and Harry had given her a bottle of vintage champagne.