‘Sounds like he might have been prophetic.’

‘He also said he could see me with four children.’

They walked on for some moments in painful silence.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

He put an arm around her. ‘Did you ever see that cheesy old movie, Love Story?’

She shook her head.

‘There was a line in it – which became the catchphrase for the movie. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”’

As they walked in through the gates and along the pavement to the left of the short dual carriageway, she said, ‘Nice, it’s kind of true.’

They stopped and kissed. Then he looked into her eyes. ‘I never want to have to say sorry to you, for anything.’

‘So I’ve noticed.’

‘Hey!’

There was a tease in her eyes. ‘Joking!’

He kissed her again. ‘You know, despite that old dickhead in the pub – and the eccentrics across the road – I feel immensely happy here. I’ve a feeling next year is going to be brilliant. I love my studio – I know I’m going to be able to work well there.’

‘And I love my kitchen, and my catering space in the garage. And I agree with you, I’m really happy here too. I love the village, and actually the tuna salad wasn’t bad. It would have tasted even better without the P-Ws. Did you hear he called her “High Command” when she was in the loo? Hilarious!’

‘But now we have something to really look forward to. Boxing Day prosecco at their house.’

‘Can you imagine what it’s like inside?’ she said.

‘It’s probably full of those wedding presents we hated and gave to the charity shop! Like that porcelain donkey with the sombrero on its head and the quartz clock in its belly that my aunt gave us.’

‘Shame on you for giving away what might one day become a priceless antique.’

‘One that’ll turn up on the Antiques Roadshow?’

‘Some years after Hell has frozen over.’

He laughed and hugged her. ‘God, I love you so much.’

She looked into his eyes, smiling. ‘It’s going to happen, a baby will come along. If it doesn’t, we’ll try IVF and whatever else is going. And if that doesn’t happen, we have each other. Right?’

They hugged again. ‘Right,’ he whispered into her ear.

‘Right.’

As they walked on, turning into Lakeview Drive, passing the shells of houses under construction, Emily said, ‘What about that other weird old boy, what did he mean when he said, “Ask anyone, they’ll know about the digger”?’

‘Blind reindeer.’

‘What?’

‘No eye deer!’

She punched him. ‘That is terrible, that’s your worst pun ever – and you stole it!’

‘Sorry.’

‘Didn’t you just say something about never having to say sorry?’ She looked at him quizzically.

27

Sunday 16 December

As soon as they were home, Jason left Emily to the preparations in her work kitchen, made them both a mug of tea and carried his up to the studio. Closing the door behind him, he stood and stared for some moments at his painting of the two labradoodles on the sofa. It glowed in the low winter sunlight streaming in through the window.