Five Winters(35)

“It’s only because they’ve been ploughed,” I said. “They looked a bit better before that.”

“The soil in the Fens is some of the most fertile in England,” added Jaimie, sounding put out.

Actually, I thought Rosie’s description was pretty accurate. The vast black fields stretching as far as the eye could see were a bit depressing.

At first, when I’d moved here, the emptiness of the place scared me. In London, if you wanted to see a long view, you had to go to Hampstead Heath or pay a small fortune to go to the top of the Shard. In the Fens, there was nothing but long views—the fields stretched away into the distance, unrelentingly flat. And the skies were huge. Beautiful sometimes, but huge.

“Don’t listen to my sister, mate,” said Mark, stepping forward to shake Jaimie’s hand. “She’d be lost without sugar in her coffee.”

“Actually, potatoes are the main crop these days, not sugar beet,” Jaimie explained as he and Mark went indoors. Grace followed with the girls, who were still clinging to her like monkeys and bombarding her with compliments and questions. Her coat was open, allowing me to see that she was dressed in jeans. Expensive designer jeans, but jeans nevertheless. So much for the glamour Jaimie had been on about.

Rosie and I stood with our arms still around each other, watching them.

“Popular, isn’t she?” said Rosie.

I shrugged. “She’s glamorous and stylish. A link to their past too.”

“They still casting you as the Wicked Witch of the East, then?”

“Not all the time. Sometimes, I suppose. I think we’re starting to get somewhere, though.”

Rosie shook her head, considering me. “Good. Because you’d never cut it as a wicked witch. Witches use too many frog toes and newt eyes in their potions. How’s the dog walking going?”

I shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“As good as that, eh?”

“It’ll do for now. How about you? Where’s the gorgeous Giorgio this Christmas?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Gone to see his family.”

I looked at her. “You haven’t broken up again?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Possibly. D’you mind if we don’t talk about it? Anyway, why are you done up like a dog’s dinner? Is there a party I wasn’t told about or something?”

I smiled ruefully. “D’you mind if we don’t talk about it?”

We joined the others in the sitting room. Mark was reaching forward, apparently to get something from Olivia’s hair. “You’ve got something behind your ear, Olivia.”

She squealed. “What is it, what is it?”

“It appears to be . . .” Mark drew his hand back and held up a chocolate wrapped in golden foil. “A chocolate. Whatever is it doing behind your ear?”

Olivia jumped up and down, trying to reach it. “Give it to me! Give it to me!”

“Not too many, Olivia,” said Jaimie, but he was smiling. “It’s almost lunchtime. Beth’s made some lovely soup.”

“I want one!” said Emily.

“Well,” said Mark, examining the side of her head, “let’s have a look, shall we? Yes, you’re in luck. There’s one behind your ear too.” He drew it out and threw it to her. She caught it, grinning all over her face.

“Has he been practising that?” I asked Rosie, but it was Grace who answered.

“Practising what? It’s magic.”

I think it was the first time she’d ever made me laugh. Maybe there was hope of us becoming friends after all.

The soup was lentil and vegetable—a recipe I’d perfected since my switch to vegetarianism, and we ate it with the freshly baked bread Jaimie had brought back from the superstore when he’d bought the nail polish remover.

“How’s your latest project coming along, Jaimie?” Grace asked between sips.

Jaimie nodded enthusiastically. “Really well, thanks. I’ll be ready to put it on the market in the New Year. I thought you might like to come over and see it this afternoon, actually, if Mark doesn’t mind? If you’d like to, that is.”

“I’d love to.”

“No problem, mate,” said Mark. “Go for it.”

“Thank you,” said Grace.

I wasn’t sure whether she was being sarcastic or not at the idea she had to get Mark’s approval before agreeing. In any case, she was talking to the girls now.

“I’ve got early Christmas presents for you both if Daddy doesn’t mind? There’s just time for you to open them before you go back to your mum’s. You don’t mind, do you, Jaimie?”

He could hardly say he did, with Grace’s hand already in her bag and Olivia jumping up and down in front of him.

“Of course not; it’s fine.”

Jaimie’s benign expression didn’t even change when Grace’s impromptu presents turned out to be makeup sets, albeit without the controversial nail polish. Honestly, I despaired, I really did.

It was a distinct relief when they all headed off, leaving me, Rosie, and Mark on our own, and silence descended on the house. I made coffee, and the three of us sat lined up in a row on the sofa in front of the wood burner, Rosie in the middle and Mark and I on either side of her. Together we watched the flickering flames, each holding a mug, content for a while to be silent.