She’d always wanted moments like this: imagined them with her own children. Would that happen for her now? She was already thirty-five and everything she read said her biological clock was ticking. She was aware of wrinkles forming on her forehead and lines around her eyes. Evan had been putting her off for ages, saying he wanted to get married first, but in reality, he hadn’t wanted to marry her or start a family. If only he’d been honest, it could have been far less painful. She buried the sting of his betrayal under another sip of wine.

‘Do you like my pyjamas, Bella? Look, they’ve got Christmassy dinosaurs on them.’

‘They’re gorgeous, Freddie. I’ve got some with Christmassy llamas on them.’

‘Really?’

She nodded.

‘Who’s ready for pizza then?’ Nick asked with a flourish. ‘And after dinner, mate, you can have an hour calm downtime before bed, okay?’

‘Will you read me a bedtime story, Bella? Please?’

Nick seemed so shocked by the suggestion he almost dropped the bowl of dough he was retrieving from the back of the cooker where it had proved. Bella froze too. She wanted to say yes. She loved reading stories to the kids, especially at the end of the school day and she’d always looked forward to doing that with her own children one day but without knowing how Nick felt about it, she couldn’t just agree. She turned to him.

‘Sorry, the bowls a bit slippery from the olive oil.’

Freddie looked between them as if sensing something was up.

‘Umm,’ Bella stuttered. ‘If your dad doesn’t mind.’

Nick relaxed, a warm smile filling his face. ‘No objections from me,’ he replied, dividing the dough into three equal balls. ‘But I warn you, it won’t be the gentle stories you read at school. He loves to end the day with his enormous book of superhero tales.’

‘Spider-Man’s my favourite,’ Freddie replied stealing some cheese. ‘And I can do his moves. I can show you on the apparatus on Monday.’

‘That sounds good to me,’ Bella said. She’d never wanted to read a story quite so much in her life.

‘Are you going to the Christmas parade next week?’ Nick asked, pressing the dough into three round discs.

The Christmas parade was a Meadowbank institution and one that the whole village turned out for. Some houses had started adorning their gardens with Christmas decorations already, or putting up their Christmas trees, but by next weekend every single house would be lit to the hilt and the whole village would sparkle and shine like a winter wonderland. Everything seemed different resplendent in golden Christmas lights, and she couldn’t help but feel like a tourist in her hometown.

‘I never miss it,’ she replied.

‘We could all go together couldn’t we, Daddy?’