Page 68
“Exactly. And even if you weren’t already with someone, which, by the way, is very disappointing behaviour and I expected better of you—”
“Izzy—”
“Let me finish! Had I known, then I never would have done what we did, but even if you weren’t already with someone, I would still be keeping my distance.”
“Right.” His gaze was steady on hers. “Care to tell me why?”
“Because I’m bad news, Jason. I simply can’t do relationships in the way other people do.” Exhausted, she stared into the snow-filled darkness. “Let’s pretend for a moment that you weren’t involved with someone else and we decided to give it a go—let me tell you how that would play out. We’d have fun, enjoy ourselves, and then one of two things would happen—”
“I’m listening.”
“Either you would decide I’m not for you and you break up with me, or you would decide you like me and would want to see more of me. And then I would break up with you.”
“You’d break up with me because I like you?”
“Yes.” She shifted her gaze to his. “I’m okay as long as a relationship is casual but the slightest hint of serious and I’m done. I’m not made for it. Apparently, I have trust issues. And in case you need evidence for that, I can tell you that the last guy I dated told me I was a coldhearted b—” She broke off. “Never mind. You can imagine. He had an affair, which apparently was my fault because he needed an emotional connection I couldn’t give him. And I felt bad about that. He said I broke his heart and that he needed her to help him heal, but he seemed to heal pretty quickly so I don’t feel as bad as I probably should. But I have it on good authority that I’m not capable of commitment.”
“Izzy—”
“I like you. You’re a nice guy. You’re a good guy. Or at least I thought you were until I discovered you already have a one and only—” she breathed “—but either way, you don’t want to get involved with me. I’m definitely on Santa’s naughty list.” She reached out, turned out the light and burrowed deep under the covers. “Good night, Jason.”
She’d been excited to be here, but now she realised that wherever you were you took yourself with you. No matter how far you travelled or which company you kept, you couldn’t escape who you were. And she was someone who was never, ever going to hand over her heart to anyone again.
20
Mabel
She rose early, while the house was still quiet. She hadn’t slept well, but perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. Thoughts and memories had swirled in her head, robbing her of any hope of rest.
Stepping into the kitchen, she was relieved to feel warmth, and to know that the generator was still working.
Cupcake, Biscuit and Macaron were curled up together close to the range cooker. She suspected that Crumpet had taken advantage of his new status as comfort animal and was sleeping on the bed next to Elsie.
She made herself coffee using the fancy machine that had been Walter’s pride and joy and stood by the window, warming her hands on the mug as she breathed in the aroma. She’d always been an early riser. In the old days, she’d be at her desk before dawn and would already have done an hour’s work before Walter brought coffee for both of them into the library. They’d drink it together while watching the sun rise over the forest. Walter’s preferred season was fall, when the trees were shades of fox and flame, but Mabel had always chosen winter. She loved the wildness of it. The crunch of new snow underfoot. The smothered silence. The smell of pine and wood smoke mingling in the freezing air as winter gripped the world around them. She’d loved the feel of warmth on chilled fingers, the punch of heat when she’d walked in from the outdoors. All those creature comforts that soothed the harshness. It was a time for nesting and she’d always loved to nest.
And she’d loved Christmas, its festive brightness a beacon in those long, cold months.
It had been a while since the season had brought any comfort, but it did so now as she thought about the children snuggled in their beds upstairs. She was used to starting every day the way she ended it—alone—but today she wasn’t alone. There were people in the house, and the knowledge warmed her.
Outside, the wind still blew and the snow still fell, swirling, weightless flakes that landed layer upon layer concealing the landscape. Was it her imagination or did it feel a little less intense than the day before?
Conscious that the household would wake up soon, she decided to check the temperature of the library.
That was probably the best place for everyone to gather. It would be easy to occupy the children there and comfortable for the adults, too.
She made herself a fresh cup of coffee and took it through to the garden room.
Lights glowed and through the open door she saw Brooke curled up on one of the sofas, half covered by a blanket.
Mabel returned to the kitchen and made an extra cup of coffee.
Brooke was reading, but the moment she saw Mabel she put the book down.
“You’re up early. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I’m always awake at this hour, but I didn’t expect to see you so early after yesterday. I thought you’d be exhausted.” She offered Brooke one of the mugs. “Coffee? I saw that you drank it black yesterday.”
“Thanks, you’re a hero.” Brooke shifted position and reached for the mug. “How thoughtful.” She was wearing a dress in a shade of caramel, and her dark hair was loose.