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Katie was fascinated by how other creative people worked. Typing on a screen often felt lesser to her than painting or sculpting or putting together a mood board for a new range of textiles. It’s why she’d first been drawn to Jess at uni. Her friend’s quirky, vibrant style had stood out amid a sea of greige and black hoodies at the student welcome party. Back then, of course, Katie had no idea that her own vibrant inner self would be expressed in words.

Ned used the walk to run ideas for his screenplay past them.

While Jess was doing her best to come up with questions and suggestions, Katie knew Ned well enough to know that he’d have everything pretty much worked out already. He wanted to talk the plot through out loud and convince himself it was working rather than get any genuine feedback that might throw him off course.

‘So, I think Millican should end up with a dilemma about whether to take his platonic relationship with Mabel to a new level …’ he mused, swishing a branch through the air like a rapier, ‘or maybe he’s torn between two women and can’t decide which one?’

‘Or maybe he decides to go it alone,’ Katie said.

‘I suppose so but that wouldn’t deliver a happy ending, would it?’ Jess said. ‘Won’t some of your audience be disappointed?’

‘It’s not a romance. It doesn’t have to have a happy ending,’ Ned said, stopping by a large oak whose withered leaves carpeted the earth. ‘Just like in real life.’

He threw the branch on to the ground. ‘Is anyone bloody cold? I’m freezing my rocks off. I think I’ll head back to the house.’ With that, he marched away without another word.

‘He seems grumpy,’ Jess said. ‘It’s none of my business but do you want to talk?’

‘It’s Christmas Day. Everyone has a right to be grumpy at some point.’ She shook her head. ‘I think he’d like me to make up my mind about whether we should get back together.’

‘Oh.’ Jess’s brow puckered in surprise. ‘I – And are you thinking about it?’

Katie didn’t want to go into detail. It wasn’t fair on Ned and not the moment anyway. ‘I’m trying not to think about it. Not until Christmas is over.’

‘I don’t blame you. Don’t get me wrong, we’re all having a lovely time, but there is a bit of an atmosphere between Ned and Arlo. I’m not sure why unless it’s just a bit of macho posturing?’

‘Maybe,’ Katie said, ‘although I don’t think macho posturing is their style. But I agree Ned seems tetchy and Arlo’s grumpy. My plan for us to have a relaxing Christmas has gone off the rails somewhat.’

‘Maybe we can get it back on this evening. Most of us will probably fall asleep anyway.’ Jess clapped her gloved hands together. ‘Ned’s right too. It’s gone very cold: shall we go home?’

Katie smiled. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? How when you’re on holiday you talk of going home even if you’re staying in a tent.’

‘True. I’d never thought of that.’

As the house came into view, Katie allowed herself a few moments to imagine what it would be like if the Island House were her home – with Arlo.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

‘I hate to be a cliché but I don’t think I can ever eat a single thing ever again.’ Jess flopped on to the sofa next to Wanda.

Katie groaned. ‘I feel like a python that’s trying to digest a wildebeest.’

‘So, no one wants a truffle, then?’ Wanda’s voice had a hopeful uplift.

Ned waved his port glass in the air, now in a mellower mood, which wasn’t surprising after all the wine that had been consumed with lunch. ‘Not if you don’t want us all to go pop.’

‘Well, I didn’t fancy much to eat after doing the cooking so that’s my excuse to open these.’

‘Go ahead, Auntie Wanda. You deserve them.’

Athene was still in the kitchen, having insisted on tidying up. Pongo was running around the garden – a good thing considering he had managed to snaffle some turkey – and Arlo had gone to call his family.

‘So,’ Ned said with a sigh, ‘what are we going to do now?’

‘Sleep?’ Katie offered.

‘Boring …’ Jess said, adding, ‘though nobody suggest Twister, for God’s sake. Why don’t you tell us a story, Ned?’

‘That’s Katie’s area.’