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“It’s my fault, really,” Hannah said evenly. “We never talked about what this was, where it might go. But I did think that when we did, we might be able to consider something. I was wrong.”

“You’re right, we haven’t talked about it. We should,” said Lottie, a little relieved now. She was sure she could resolve this.

“I think it’s a bit too late for that. I can see all too well where you stand,” said Hannah, a sigh in her voice.

“But we haven’t talked. You’re right, we need to.” Lottie said gently. “We can work this out.”

“No, I’m not a fool,” said Hannah. “And I will always be pleased we met again. You have changed things for me in a way I never expected. But I’ll be on the first train back to London on Boxing Day. I won’t trouble you anymore.”

“What?” Lottie’s heart was beating out of her chest. She felt like she had missed something, something really big. “I mean, there’s no rush. I know you don’t need to worry about the threats anymore. But you’re not troubling me. Far from it,” she stammered.

“Perhaps not,” said Hannah, smoothing down her jacket. “But I don’t want to just be some meaningless fling to you.”

Lottie’s mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything Hannah swept out of the room, leaving her standing in confusion.

She turned to follow Hannah, who was still walking rather than running, but somehow moving at what looked like superhuman speed. If Lottie hadn’t been so confused and concerned she would have admired the professional urgency.

“Don’t follow me,” instructed Hannah, without turning around. Her hand was up like a police officer stopping traffic.

“Wait,” Lottie called after her, but Hannah disappeared into the hall and up the stairs. Hannah had made it clear she didn’t want to be followed, and Lottie decided to respect that. Hannah needed space.

Lottie felt her eyes pricking with tears. She blinked them away. Christmas Eve always brought out big emotions. She tried to convince herself that was all it was, that her heart wasn’t aching.

As she stood motionless by the reception desk, an American guest approached her in his kilt. “Hey, ma’am, I wonder if we could order breakfast in our room tomorrow morning? I know we’re a little late in ordering.”

Lottie papered on a smile. “Of course. We do a special festive breakfast tomorrow. I think we just have enough time to warn the kitchen staff.”

She busied herself seeing to the man’s request, pushing down the ever-growing lump in her throat.

Lottie heard footsteps. “There you are,” said Freya. “I’ve just got a whisky in for you. Come on.”

“Hey love. I’m just sorting out this booking. I’ll be in in a moment,” said Lottie, looking up briefly at her niece.

“Well come quickly, else I’ll drink it,” she giggled. Lottie smiled to herself. Freya had been in a good mood all day, especially since she had shared her own plans for the future. It was nice.

Lottie did her best to pack away her upset over Hannah. She couldn’t understand what had changed, or how Hannah had come to the conclusions she had. But she knew she wasn’t going to be able to sort it all out this evening. Perhaps the morning would bring a new opportunity.

Christmas morning.

Once she’d done her duties, she made her way into the bar where Freya was holding court with Zack and Tom. Lottie felt some of her sadness fall away. Her children seemed happy, and that was no small thing. She always found life immeasurably easier when they were doing well. It was, she supposed, part of being a parent.

She thought briefly of her own parents. Her father had died a few years earlier and her mother was still in the care home they’d moved to. She visited from time to time, but now that the dementia had advanced, she didn’t know Lottie at all anymore. Her parents had never really been the same after her sister died, too lost in their own grief to be of any practical help to Lottie when she found herself responsible for Zack and Freya. They had moved into the care home in the years that followed, and much of their money was swallowed up by that.

Lottie sat down with her children, thinking about how quickly life could change – both for the better and for the worse.

“You OK, Lotts?” asked Zack, his brow creased in concern.

“Just tired, love,” said Lottie. It wasn’t a complete lie. It had been a busy few days.

“Well, tomorrow we can all muck in with the dinner and stuff,” he said.

“I can help, too,” echoed Tom with a gentle smile.

“Is Hannah coming tomorrow?” asked Freya, her cheeks red with festive cheer.

“I don’t think so,” said Lottie.

“Why not?” asked Freya. “Ow!” She looked daggers at her brother, who had evidently given her a swift kick under the table.