Simon came in as well, and even though Olivia had seen him a few days ago, at the quiz night, her heart still did that squeezy thing that it seemed to do every time she caught sight of him.

He waited until the crowd had dissipated before asking her if she’d bought a Christmas tree yet.

“No, not yet. I’ve been a bit busy...”

“I was only asking because there is a Christmas tree farm nearby where you can cut your own tree down, and I thought it might be fun to go together.” He smiled wryly, waiting for her reply.

“Oh, it would, but—” Olivia hesitated, imagining the massive firs and spruces that were undoubtedly farmed. “I’m thinking I’ll need quite a small tree. More of a tabletop item.”

“I’m sure they sell small ones,” Simon said easily, and so they arranged to meet up the next day.

A few snowflakes were drifting down as Simon picked her up in his car, cheery as ever, and they fell into an easy camaraderie as they drove to the farm on the other side of Oxford.

“Do you have a saw?” Olivia asked somewhat dubiously. She’d never cut down her own Christmas tree before; she tended to buy them from the supermarket, prewrapped.

“Of course,” Simon answered easily. “I borrowed it from my brother-in-law.”

“When are they heading out for Christmas?”

“Tomorrow. And I pick up the keys for Willoughby Close this afternoon.”

“Oh!” Olivia was pleased for both Simon and the close itself, with a new resident to liven things up. “That’s wonderful, Simon.”

“When I’ve retrieved all of my furniture and things from storage, you must come over to dinner.”

“I’d love that,” Olivia answered, “but let me help you move in. That is, if you want me to...”

“That would be wonderful,” Simon answered with a beaming smile, and Olivia grinned back. Everything suddenly felt so wonderfully simple—her, Simon, their fledgling relationship.

A short while later they arrived at the Christmas tree farm, and with guidelines given and saw in hand, they walked across a field glittering with frost to the selection of smaller trees one of the staff had directed them to.

“How about this one?” Olivia asked as they approached a small, squat tree. Simon shook his head definitively.

“Too stubby.”

“Stubby?” Okay, actually, she could kind of see it. “Right, then. Do you see one you like?”

“Hmm.” Simon rubbed his chin, looking around the field of trees with a connoisseur’s discerning eye. “What about that one over there?”

Olivia looked where he pointed and then shook her head. “It’s all bare on one side.”

“All right, let’s try again.”

In the end, they decided they’d found the perfect, or almost, tree on the fifth attempt, and then spent a good twenty minutes taking turns sawing it. Lying flat on her back on the cold, frosty grass, staring up at the blue sky through a screen of pine needles as she sawed and sawed and her arm ached, Olivia couldn’t remember feeling so happy.