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“Yes.” He gave the pan a shake. “Matt and I risked life and limb, but everything is inside.”

“That’s great.” Izzy put mats in the middle of the table. “It was lucky we were doing a festive photo shoot. I may not have thermal clothing, or boots fit for the Arctic, but I have a million fairy lights in my packing.”

“Seriously? Did you hear that, girls? Izzy has fairy lights. Fairy lights make everything better.” Brooke took the knife from Elsie before she could cut herself with it. “What exactly is it that you do, Izzy?”

“I work for a company that stages houses for sale. Mixture of private clients and corporate work. We try and imagine the person who might be interested, and then basically work up a design based on that. My job is to try and make them fall in love the moment they step through the door. They need to see it as a future home. They need to be able to picture themselves there.”

Brooke rinsed the knife. “So it’s a makeover?”

“In a way, yes. And sometimes it’s major. The project before last we painted the entire house. We add designer furnishings, paintings, sound systems—whatever is needed to create a sense of luxury. And if the house has a particular feature, then we highlight it. For example, the house we just came from had the most spectacular views so we designed the living room to make the most of that.”

“Sounds as if you’re the perfect person to decorate the house for Christmas.”

“I can guarantee she’ll do a great job. No one dresses a house like Izzy.” Jason turned off the heat under the pan. “I’m a photographer by trade, but I also renovate old houses. One at a time. I love a project.”

Izzy stared at him. “I didn’t know that about you.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “But why would I? We’re work colleagues.”

“Right. Colleagues.” He held her gaze. “I’m sure there’s plenty we don’t know about each other, but that’s going to change if we’re spending Christmas together. It will be good to get to know you better, Izzy.”

Izzy said nothing and Mabel caught Brooke’s eye and knew they were thinking the same thing.

There was something in the air between those two that went beyond a professional work relationship.

“I work in construction,” Matt said, “but unless the roof blows off, I don’t suppose that’s a skill that’s going to be much use to us.”

“Also, generally, you manage other people doing the work,” Brooke pointed out. “And I used to work in advertising, which is zero use to anyone unless you want me to think up a snappy slogan to cover our current situation.” She gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “Right, let’s get these pies in the oven so that we can get the girls to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed.” Poppy was under the table with the cats. “I want to sleep here. It’s cosy.”

Elsie agreed. “I don’t want to go to bed, either. I’m not tired.”

“The combination of time change and a long flight is going to make bedtime a nightmare,” Matt said, “not to mention the fact that Poppy slept in the car and just had a short nap.”

“We’ll stick to the usual routine.” Brooke was firm. “They’ll adjust. In the meantime, girls, you can help me here.”

They assembled the pies, slid them into the oven and cleared up the mess they’d made.

While the two men headed off to sort out luggage and take hot showers, Izzy crawled under the table to play with Poppy and the cats.

There was a low hum of conversation punctuated by the occasional giggle from the children or Izzy, and in no time, delicious smells wafted from the oven.

Outside, the snow continued to fall and the wind howled, but sitting there breathing in the aroma of fresh pastry, Mabel felt something she hadn’t felt for a while.

Contentment.

It spread over her like a fleecy blanket. It had been a long time since the house had seen so much life and activity. A long time since she’d heard noise and laughter. A long time since she’d spent this long in the company of people. She’d become accustomed to the silence and the empty space around her. She’d taught herself to look forwards and not backwards. It was only now as she experienced the opposite that she realised how much she’d missed it.

They were strangers, but in a way that made things easier because their relationship wasn’t weighed down by family history. There were no memories of Christmas past in the room, and no thoughts of Christmas future. The focus was on Christmas present.

This Christmas.

Matt and Jason reappeared, deep in conversation about the rules and regulations of building in the UK and North America.

Brooke handed Matt a bottle of wine. “It came out of the car, so it doesn’t need to be chilled. Glasses are in that cupboard over there—” She waved a hand. “I think it’s time we all drank a toast to our host. Mabel? Will you join us?”

Walter had been a keen wine collector and Mabel had bottles and bottles in the cellar that she never touched because it never felt right to drink alone. But tonight she wasn’t alone.

“I’d like that, thank you. A small glass. I have fresh local apple juice if the children would like that?”