“Is that something you want?” she asked carefully.

“I don’t know. Babies are bloody hard work, you know?”

“I don’t, but I can imagine.”

“Oh sorry, Olivia, am I completely putting my foot in it?” Ava cried, aghast.

“Now you are,” Olivia returned, smiling to take the sting out of the words. “Not everyone wants babies, Ava.” She’d never been particularly maternal, but then she’d never given herself the chance to be, because it hadn’t seemed like a possibility.

“Exactly. And I never thought I was the maternal type, to be honest. I love William to bits, but the thought of going through it all again...” She shuddered. “But it also seems so unfair to deny Jace the chance to be a father.”

“He’s a father to William.”

“Yes, but his own... It does make a difference, don’t you think?” She shook her head. “It shouldn’t, I know, but I suppose it does.”

“I don’t know if it does or not,” Olivia said slowly. “My father walked out when I was two years old. Biology didn’t matter much there.” She spoke matter-of-factly, without a hint of self-pity or sorrow. Her father’s abandonment had been a part of her life for so long she didn’t think it had the power to hurt her. Besides, Tina had more than made up for any deadbeat dad. She’d been—and still was—the most wonderful mum.

“Yes, too true,” Ava answered on a sigh; Olivia knew she had a troubled family history. “Biology isn’t everything, certainly.”

William was starting to grizzle, and so Ava hoisted her coffee cup and gave Olivia a cheery wave. “I’d better get on. Are you coming to Harriet’s on Friday for our girls’ night in?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Every month all five of them got together for a gossip and a drink, with much hilarity ensuing. Olivia had started to be included in these gatherings a little over a year ago, and she made sure never to miss a single one.

“Great, see you then,” Ava chirped, and then she was out the door. From then until late morning Olivia had a steady trickle of customers, so she didn’t get a chance to finish her window display until nearly lunchtime.

She nipped out back to the tiny garden behind the shop to cut some holly from the overgrown bush by the gate that led out to the river and the muddy footpath alongside it, and then she rustled up some red velvet ribbon, as well. On Sunday she’d do her big Christmas shop and get a few more bits and bobs to make the window display the best it could be.

The Twelve Days of Cupcakes. Outside, in the cold, crystalline air, she stepped back from the bow front of her shop to survey her work. Would people be tempted by the plate of gooey caramel cupcakes in the window? So far she hadn’t sold one, but she had high hopes for this afternoon. If Mallory came in with her friends...