As soon as she was up, Annie tried again to reach Bill on his mobile. This time, much to her surprise, he answered straight away. Annie put her phone on speaker so that James could hear what Bill had to say for himself.

‘I’m so very sorry, Annie, but I really don’t recall you inviting me over,’ he said. ‘I’d already told Sid Myers that I’d visit him in Ravenstonedale. We used to work together but hadn’t seen each other in years. It wasn’t a great evening, as it turned out, because I couldn’t drink and had forgotten how dull the man can be when you’re sober.’

‘So what time did you get back?’

‘Just after midnight. And it wasn’t a pleasant drive in the snow either.’

‘I tried ringing you throughout the evening, Bill.’

‘I can see that from the list of missed calls on my phone. But I forgot to take it with me and left it on the bed.’

‘So will we see you today?’

‘Of course. I’ll come over whenever you want me to and I promise not to forget this time.’

‘Well, if you’re interested, James and I are joining in the carol singing in the village square. It starts at ten, weather permitting.’

‘That sounds good. It’ll give me time to have a shower and breakfast. They do a tasty fry-up in this place and it comes with the room.’

‘So we’ll see you there, then.’

‘You will indeed.’

Annie hung up and turned to James.

‘It still makes no sense to me,’ she said. ‘I really don’t believe he forgot that I invited him. We only had the conversation yesterday morning, for heaven’s sake.’

‘Maybe he didn’t forget,’ James said. ‘Maybe he just couldn’t stand the thought of having dinner with us.’

Annie shook her head. ‘That can’t be it. He didn’t have to join us here for Christmas. He chose to. No, I’ve got a feeling that it’s more complicated. There’s something he’s not telling me and I’m determined to find out what the bloody hell it is.’

Singing carols in the open with lots of other people had never been James’s or Annie’s idea of fun but they were joining in this year because Annie was keen to take part in community activities. So, they walked hand in hand through the village, the snow softening their steps.

The air was cold but invigorating, and the views of the stark white landscape in the distance were awe-inspiring. It didn’t surprise James that Cumbria was considered one of the UK’s most beautiful counties, with its soaring fells, amazing waterfalls and stunning lakes. No wonder it had inspired so many famous stories and poems.

And he had to admit that strolling through Kirkby Abbey was much more pleasant that traversing the grimy streets of Tottenham. At least here the air wasn’t filled with toxic fumes and the constant roar of traffic.

This, to him, was the upside of living in Cumbria. It was quiet, picturesque, and a safe distance from the mess that had become of his beloved London.