Page 93 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

Harriet whirled on her heel, her hands on her hips. She looked furious. ‘I could ask you the same thing,’ she said, ‘but I won’t, because I know. I’ve seen it.’

‘Seen what—?’ Owen began, then his blood ran cold. He knew without being told what it was that she had seen. ‘If it’s about the blog, I can explain.’

‘Don’t bother!’ Harriet spat. ‘I know exactly what’s been going on and why. Is that all I am to you? An experiment? Let me tell you: this experiment is over. It’s near enough to Christmas so I think I’ve won your stupid challenge, don’t you? There’s no need for you to hang around in Foxmore any more.’

‘But—’

‘And I’ll tell you what else is over –us. To think I believed you cared for me! Ha! More fool me. I want you to leave now. Go!’ she commanded.

Owen was having difficulty gathering his thoughts. For Harriet to find out in this way was unthinkable. He had been planning on telling her eventually – he hadn’t intended to keep it from her forever, because he knew that sooner or later he would have to tell her what he did for a living – but he was going to explain everything after Christmas, once the experiment was over and the final blog posts on the subject were done and dusted. He had even rehearsed in his head what he was going to say. How had she found out?

He was about to ask when he realised it didn’t matter. He didn’t care how she’d found out. All he cared about was that she had told him to leave.

‘Please let me explain,’ he begged, his heart an uncomfortable lump in his chest.

Harriet refused to look at him, lifting her chin and staring at a point over his shoulder.

‘Harriet, please.’

‘Get out. I never want to see you again. I wish I’d never seen you at all. We were fine until you came along, with your don’t-buy-anything-new ideas. It’s done nothing but cause trouble. My daughter is in bits because of you.’

‘Hang on a minute…’ he began, thinking that she wasn’t being entirely fair, but he ground to a halt. In a small voice he said, ‘This can’t be the end of us.’

‘Oh yes, it can.’ She was resolute. He could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes. They were over.

He took a shuddering breath and held it for a moment, before letting it out slowly. ‘If that’s what you want…’

‘It is.’

So Owen did the only thing he could – he left.

Harriet fought hard to hold back her tears. There would be plenty of time for crying later, when she was alone. Right now, there was Pen and a cafe full of customers to think about. She might want to go home and bawl her eyes out, but she couldn’t.

While trying to compose herself, she jumped when the door opened, and for a second her heart leapt, thinking Owen had returned, but quickly plummeted again when she saw it was Pen. Harriet didn’t want him to come back anyway. When she’d told him to leave, she’d meant it. But that didn’t stop her wanting desperately to see him again, to feel his lips on hers, his arms holding her tight. He might have acted despicably, and she might be unable to forgive him for what he had done, but it didn’t stop her from loving him. Emotions couldn’t be turned off like a light switch, and she knew she would feel the pain of this for a long time to come.

‘Are you all right, my lovely?’ Pen asked.

‘Not really.’

‘He’s gone,’ Pen continued.

‘Good.’

‘He looked awful,’ Pen added.

‘Good,’ Harriet repeated.

‘He looked as though he was crying.’

‘Join the club.’ Harriet sniffed, wiping her eyes. Holding back the tears wasn’t working, was it?

‘Do you want to go home?’ Pen offered.

‘Thank you, but no. I’ll be better off keeping busy.’

Pen said, ‘Your face is enough to scare small children.’

Harriet tried for a smile and failed. ‘I promise I’ll be more cheerful.’

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