Page 71 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

Not sure yet. I miss you.

She missed him, too. Last weekend had been magical, despite not managing to share another one of those magnificent kisses. She had left him on the sofa and had taken herself off to bed, thrumming with passion and brimming with longing, and had lain awake for hours, listening to the house settling around her and wishing she had the courage to go downstairs and make love to him.

But he was right – they couldn’t risk it, not with the children in the house – so she had spent a restless and frustrated night alone. And the rest of this week hadn’t been any better. To her dismay, the garage had been able to mend the van’s broken water pump on the Monday, so there had been no excuse for him to spend another night at her house.

Mind you, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to resist him if he had, so maybe his return to the van had been a good thing. Or it might have been, if she could have wrangled some time alone with him – time that could have been spent in his arms.

She would just have to wait, and hope that the waiting would make their eventual lovemaking even more spectacular.

‘Mam! Let’s go.’ Sara was getting impatient.

Sorry, gotta go. Speak later?

A smiley face and a red heart were Owen’s reply, and Harriet’s own heart soared in response. That kiss…

‘Mam!’

‘Sorry.’ Harriet started the engine, pushing thoughts of Owen and their kiss out of her mind. Easier said than done, though, because he was the last thing she thought about before she drifted off to sleep at night, and the first thing she thought about when she woke. And most of every day as well! However, this afternoon she would concentrate on Sara and the party, and do her best to keep lustful thoughts at bay.

Deri Castle was situated about fifteen miles away from Foxmore. It wasn’t a castle as such, more a country house or manor, but it was certainly very grand. It had extensive grounds and a long sweeping drive bordered by large trees, the majority of which now sported a considerable number of bare branches.

When the building came into view, Sara let out a gasp and bounced up and down in her seat with excitement. Harriet wished she could share her daughter’s enthusiasm. She had to admit that the place was incredibly impressive. It had an enormous porch on the front, built out of stone, with four immense stone columns holding it up. The doors on the main entrance were three times the normal size and were standing wide open, giving a glimpse into the hotel’s elegant interior. There was even what Harriet could only describe as a bell tower on one side of the building, and she wondered if in the past the former owners might have had their own chapel. It was certainly quite old, possibly built in the eighteenth or nineteenth century, and she could see how it would make an ideal setting for a wedding. But it was far too over the top for a child’s birthday party.

The inside was just as imposing, and Harriet guessed that much of the decor might have been original, as were the furnishings.

Sara was hanging back a little, forcing Harriet to slow down as she walked through the large hallway with a grand staircase at the far end. There was a sign next to it that said ‘Happy Birthday, Darlene’, and the words ‘Snowdon Suite’ underneath, with an arrow showing the direction.

Harriet bit her lip. God help it if any of those children broke anything, and her stomach clenched at the thought of Sara knocking over a vase. She hoped the hotel had adequate insurance.

Sara’s eyes were huge, and for once she was dumbstruck. Harriet could tell she was overwhelmed, because she slipped her hand into her mother’s and clutched it tightly. ‘You won’t leave, will you, Mam?’ she asked worriedly.

‘I said I wouldn’t,’ Harriet assured her. ‘I’ll be wherever the other parents are.’

‘I don’t think I want this for my birthday,’ Sara said, and Harriet didn’t like to tell her that even if she had wanted it, she wouldn’t have got it.

‘Why not?’ she asked instead.

Sara’s brow creased and she whispered to her mother, ‘It’s too grown-up.’

‘I thought that’s what you liked about it,’ Harriet said, surprised.

Her daughter shook her head. ‘It’s for old people.’

Harriet had to agree. She’d had a quick glimpse into one of the rooms and it had indeed been full of people who were rather on the elderly side. There wasn’t anyone under sixty in sight.

‘So, then, a sleepover at our house it is,’ Harriet quipped.

‘And the cinema,’ Sara added.

‘We’ll see.’ If Sara only wanted a couple of friends, then the cinema was doable. Any more than three and it would start to get expensive. ‘Here we are.’ Harriet drew to a halt outside a door marked ‘Snowdon Suite’.

It was half open and she could see a gaggle of girls inside, flitting around like so many colourful butterflies. She gave Sara a gentle push. ‘In you go,’ she said.

For a heartbeat Harriet had a feeling that her daughter was going to ask to be taken home, but Sara straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. With a smile plastered on her face, she walked into the room, and Harriet was left standing in the corridor alone.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether she should go in and ask where the other parents were, or go back to the hall and ask at the reception desk. As she dithered, she was aware of someone else approaching and she turned to see Kelly and Catrin walking towards her.

‘The party is in there,’ she said, nodding towards the door.

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