Page 76 of All Yours

‘Boys,’ she said, ‘I miss you too. So why don’t I check with Fiona and see whether perhaps we could have a play date one afternoon every week until I leave? We could finish the den together.’

‘Yay!’ George punched the air. Reggie whooped.

‘But for now, you need to go back and do your homework. And try to eat whatever Fiona gives you. You never know, you might like it!’

They looked doubtful but nodded.

‘Off you go then,’ Robyn said. ‘See you soon.’

‘Don’t forget to ask her . . .’ Reggie warned as he went.

George ran to give Willow a quick tickle under the chin and laughed as she bounced in her chair, just for him. Then they were gone.

Chapter Forty-Two

Fox

Friday night was the only night of that week that Fox hadn’t snuck over to the pool house, because he always let the boys stay up later on Fridays and he’d promised them they’d go out for a pizza in town.

Come Saturday morning, they were off to a friend’s party for the afternoon, and his mind kept turning back to Robyn. It had been such a crazy week. The excitement of sneaking about, the funny games she made up every evening, their amazing sex. She was a constant surprise. And in a few weeks, she’d be gone. So, he might as well make the most of it. He picked up his phone.

Fox: Want to do something this afternoon? Boys are at a party.

Robyn: I’d love to but I need to get a Christmas tree. Want to make it special for Willow’s first Christmas.

Fox smiled. He’d seen the mistletoe wreaths she’d made already hanging over the door, and a holly and ivy garland over the fireplace.

Fox: I need one too and I know just the place. Come over at 2 p.m. We can go in my car.

She was alone when she opened the passenger door, wrapped in a knitted scarf and coat, her red hair covered with a blue bobble hat.

‘Hi,’ she said, cheeks rosy.

‘Where’s Willow?’ he asked.

‘With Wren and Rosie,’ she said, securing her seat belt. ‘She’s got the snuffles and I don’t think this cold air will help.’

She was right about the temperature. It was brass monkeys. The frost hadn’t melted on the ground until lunchtime, when the sun finally came out but did nothing to warm the air.

He pulled out, carefully in case of black ice, and turned towards the countryside.

‘Where are we going then?’ Robyn asked, peeling off her woollen gloves. He immediately wished she was peeling off more. He shook his head and concentrated on the road.

‘There’s a common nearby where they let you cut your own tree. You can just wander until you find the one you want and then claim it.’

‘You’ve been before then?’

‘Every year since we moved here,’ Fox admitted. ‘Meg found it.’ Usually, he tried to avoid mentioning Meg in conversations; it made people anxious, and him sad. But he realised he felt quite comfortable talking about her to Robyn.

Robyn reached over and squeezed his hand where it rested on the gearstick.

‘Christmas must be especially hard for you. So many memories.’

‘Good ones, though,’ he said, ‘so I can’t complain.’

She held his hand for another second or two before removing it.

Indicating to turn into the car park, he immediately realised he’d made a big mistake. It was heaving; cars everywhere, families dragging trees home between them. Christmas music played over a loudspeaker, booming from a small stall that sold flashing reindeer antlers. They crawled around but there wasn’t a space in sight. He saw Robyn’s face fall and panicked that he’d let her down.