Peter wiped his hands on a tea towel and turned towards Ben and Bella. ‘Hello, you two. Happy Christmas!’

Jo watched with interest to see if Bella gave Peter the same prickly response but to her surprise, and annoyance, she moved into Peter’s arms and gazed up at him with a radiant smile. ‘Happy Christmas, Peter! That mulled wine smells divine … almost makes me wish I could drink it.’

Peter flushed and flicked Jo a panicked look, before clearing his throat. ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that you can … I made it non-alcoholic this year, knowing that you didn’t drink.’

‘Did you? You didn’t say.’ Jo felt a sudden spike of anger towards Peter that took her by surprise.

But either Peter didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her, as he reached for one of the pewter goblets he had lined up on the pale granite work surface and poured Bella a generous serving. Bella took it with her eyes shining, as if he had handed her a goblet of solid gold. ‘How wonderful,’ she murmured, sipping it, gazing at Peter over the top of her glass. Jo watched her carefully, noting the slight blanch as she swallowed each mouthful, clearly detesting it but valiantly hiding her dislike from Peter.

‘Well,’ Jo clapped her hands a little too over-enthusiastically, ‘let’s go through and make ourselves comfortable, shall we? Bella, are you sure you won’t take off your coat?’

‘No.’ Bella didn’t look at Jo as she spoke. ‘I’d rather keep it on as I’m feeling a bit chilled.’ She glanced up at Peter with an apologetic smile.

‘Oh dear, I do hope you’re not sickening for something?’ Peter said, causing another ripple of annoyance to quiver through Jo’s chest. Peter was notoriously unsympathetic to anyone who was ill. Then she wondered if he was being sarcastic. She couldn’t tell.

‘Pregnancy’s not an illness, is it, Bella?’ Jo was aiming for a jokey tone, but her voice sounded sharp.

Bella raised her large eyes towards Jo with a hurt expression. ‘Um, no, I guess not.’

Ben looked at Jo with an accusing stare and she could feel a flush spreading up her neck. Why did she feel as if she was in the wrong when it was Bella who was being so offhand?

After an awkward silence, the four of them made their way through into the sitting room. Jo had spent days decorating the freshly cut Norwegian Spruce Christmas tree and trailing pretty lights and baubles around the large marble fireplace and along the picture rail, but no one seemed to notice or made any comment. With the fire lit and roaring, the room was cosy to the point of being too warm and Jo wondered if Bella might actually take her coat off at last, but instead, she pulled it around her tightly, wincing with an exaggerated grimace as she sat down gingerly on the plump grey sofa.

Ben’s forehead creased with concern. ‘Are you OK, darling?’