She had also declined the same invitation from her mother, but this time it was Olive she had been thinking about. She had seen her sister and niece several times since she and Olive had been reconciled, always at her mother’s house so there was no likelihood of running into Adam, but at Christmas that wouldn’t be possible. Her mother had confided months ago that things were much better between Olive and Adam, but she would have guessed this herself anyway. Olive was twenty-eight years old, but this was the first time ever that Ruby could remember seeing her sister anything other than waspish and bitter. And it was strange, but such was the power of love – and it was abundantly clear now that Olive did indeed love her husband – that there were times when her sister’s face took on an attractive quality and you forgot about her plainness. How Adam felt, Ruby didn’t know, but it was clear he was making Olive happy, which perhaps spoke for itself.

This thought wasn’t a new one and at first Ruby had struggled with the realization that after all Olive had done, things had worked out for her sister with Adam, her old childhood sweetheart that she herself would have married. But then reason had asserted itself and she’d given herself a stern talking-to. The past was the past and she didn’t love Adam any more, not in that way. Her niece was a beautiful little girl and she needed a loving family home, and whatever had happened to change how Adam treated Olive and his daughter was to be applauded. But at the same time she felt, and she didn’t try to analyse the whys and wherefores, that it was better for everyone concerned if she and Adam didn’t run into each other, at least for the foreseeable future. Her sister wouldn’t like it, and although she didn’t owe Olive anything, especially with regard to Adam, she loved her, and therefore, just in case . . .

When she fell into bed she was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.