Laurel laughed into her coffee cup, making the steam puff against her face. ‘Me, neither.’ She tilted her head to regard the canvas, which was nearing completion, now. ‘A lot of my female subjects seem to come out willowy, like ballerinas. Sub-consciously, I must have thought that’s how beautiful women look. One day I decided there was nothing wrong with short, curvy women. I did use myself as a model to get the form and the movement right. And the mood? Well … I was trying to reflect the me I wanted to be rather than the me I feel I am. Freer.’

Selina didn’t look away from the painting. ‘As a beanpole myself, I used to hate women with “curves”, like you.’ She was using ‘hate’ in an exaggerated, jokey sense but the word lanced through Laurel, right into the spot in her heart where she nursed the hurt and pain of Amie Blunt’s old torment.

‘I used to have bullies like you,’ she heard herself say, unforgivably shortly. ‘Shall I wrap the boys’ picture up for you?’

Selina rose, looking wary. ‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I was rude, wasn’t I? I should have said I envied women with curves.’

Laurel found herself fighting tears at the stupid, oversensitive way she’d let the past overshadow the present. ‘No, I was touchy,’ she said, summoning a smile she didn’t mean. ‘You know us temperamental artists.’

Laurel wrapped the painting, first in paper, then bubble wrap, then card. She held the parcel out to Selina. Though she smiled, she was suddenly sorry to see the little boys go. For so long they’d hung around in her studio in Chiswick, and lately here, waiting to be claimed.

As if sensing her dip in mood, Selina took the parcel with a smile. ‘My client will give these boys a good home, I promise.’

Chapter Twenty

The last few days before Christmas whizzed by. Coloured lights shone magically through a crust of snow. The Middletones sang around the village to raise money for various charities, the raffle at The Three Fishes was drawn and Grady won a massive box of Ferrero Rocher, which he brought to The Nookery to present to Laurel. As it was Daisy who opened the door, she assumed he’d come to share with the entire household and ushered him in to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Daisy, Rea and Terri squashed together on the sofa, Niall sprawled in one chair and Laurel and Grady shared the other. As they screwed up Ferrero Rocher papers and hurled them at the Grinch, Laurel giggled, enjoying leaning on Grady’s chest and feeling his laughter shake through them both.

Both of them pretended to forget the debate about Christmas Day they’d had that very morning because Grady always went to Mac’s for most of it and Laurel couldn’t see herself within the walls of Mac’s home.