Page 92 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

Owen mightn’t have used her real name, or that of her children (if he had, she would have totally lost the plot), and he had been very careful not to post any images which showed her face or theirs. He hadn’t even mentioned Foxmore by name, just referred to it as a picturesque village in rural mid-Wales.But that wasn’t the point!

She wasn’t sure what angered her the most: him not asking her, or him writing the damned thing in the first place. And beneath her anger was a growing well of despair, with undercurrents of heartbreak bubbling to the surface.

Owen had used her.

Harriet meant nothing more to him than a series of blog posts on the internet, and the acclaim and approval of those readers who had commented.

An experiment, that’s all she was. A way to convince others that not buying new was the way to save the planet.

Stuff the sodding planet! She’d had a gutful of it. The planet could take a hike as far as she was concerned, and so could Owen.

How dare he post things about her online! Every man and his dog could see what she’d bought, including that stupid designer dress!

Furious and heartbroken, Harriet slammed the lid of the laptop shut.

She didn’t want to read any more. She’d read enough. Too much. And for a second, she wished she had never seen the damned blog posts, wished she hadn’t set foot in Sero earlier. She also wished she hadn’t accepted a stupid challenge from someone she’d only just met, wished she had told him to mind his own business, and wished she hadn’t been at work that morning.

But most of all, Harriet wished she’d never set eyes on Owen Loxton, because if she hadn’t, her heart wouldn’t be shattering into a million pieces.

Owen was at a loose end this morning. For the past three days he had kept Sara entertained while Harriet was at work, and he was surprised to find that he was missing the child’s company.

He felt he’d got to know her better, and she him, and although Sara was technically being punished by being excluded from school, the two of them had had a whale of a time. He had shown her how to make chocolate hazelnut cookies (vegan, naturally) and gingerbread stained-glass biscuits (also vegan), which they’d packaged up ready to give to Harriet’s parents for Christmas. Sara had been chuffed to be able to give a gift that her mother hadn’t chosen or bought, and Owen had made a note to do something similar with Bobby.

They’d also gone for long walks along the riverbank with Etta – Sara complained so much about having to go out in the cold and tramp along a muddy path that her mother had been convinced her daughter had hated every step of it. At one point, the girl had over-egged her pretend dislike so much that Owen had been sure Harriet would twig.

Owen had also introduced her to a series of books calledJust William, which he had enjoyed as a child, and he’d encouraged her to read them aloud so he could legitimately tell Harriet that Sara had been practising her reading, when in fact he had been howling with laughter at her impersonation of Violet Elizabeth, one of the characters.

He wondered how she was getting on. He knew how anxious she had been about going to school today, despite his assurances that she would be fine. Over the past three days he had tried to tell Sara that she should hold her head up high and not worry what others might think, and he had used himself as an example, explaining how he used to be ridiculed because of his way of life and his beliefs. Twenty years ago, neither van-life nor being deeply passionate about the environment had been quite so trendy. He’d told her he could very easily have given in, but he hadn’t – and was very glad that he hadn’t.

However, Owen wasn’t an eleven-year-old girl, with an eleven-year-old girl’s outlook or pressures. He could only guess what she was going through and try to bolster her confidence. Harriet tried, too, but he suspected Sara might listen to him more, purely because he wasn’t related to her.

Thinking about Harriet gave him the idea to pop into the cafe. He was due to see her immediately after she finished work, and he was looking forward to it. His pulse raced at the thought of what they might get up to in those precious few minutes, and he told himself to behave. But he wanted to see hernow. If he was honest, he wanted to see her all the time. She was on his mind constantly, invading every thought he had, and he loved it.

Owen didn’t know how he would manage not being with her over Christmas. For the first time in his life he wasn’t looking forward to spending it with his family. He would much prefer to spend it with Harriet. But he couldn’t let his parents down: he knew they were looking forward to seeing him, and so was his brother. Maybe he could take Harriet and the kids to meet them in the New Year. He would take them in the van – Sara and Bobby might enjoy the experience. It might be the only chance they’d have before he sold it. Just before Christmas was not the best time to put a camper van on the market, but as soon as winter was out of the way, and people’s thoughts started turning to summer holidays and being outdoors once more, he’d sell it.

The smell of cinnamon and spices, mingling with those of coffee and vanilla, hit him as he walked into Pen’s Pantry, and his mouth watered. Bless her, Pen had put a few more vegan dishes on the menu over the past few weeks, and he felt duty-bound to try them all. He’d not long had breakfast and it was far too early for lunch, but there was nothing wrong with indulging in a hot chocolate and a Christmas cookie, especially if it gave him a chance to ogle Harriet.

She had her back to him and didn’t see him enter, and he was tempted to creep up behind her and tickle her, but he thought he’d better not. Pen was a very tolerant and understanding boss, but Harriet was at work after all, and he didn’t want to make her feel awkward.

Instead, he chose a table and sat down, waiting to catch her attention.

Feeling eyes on him, he glanced towards the counter and realised Pen was staring. Owen smiled and gave her a little wave, but his smile turned to a frown of confusion when she glared at him.

‘What’s wrong?’ he mouthed, but all Pen did was shake her head, her lips set in a thin straight line. ‘What?’ he asked again.

Pen jerked her head towards Harriet, and Owen’s heart sank.Oh no, please don’t let there be something wrong at school, he thought. But when Harriet turned around and caught sight of him, he drew in a sharp breath. Her gaze was flinty, her eyes narrowed when she noticed him, and she didn’t look at all pleased to see him.

Pen hurried over to her and he heard the cafe owner say something to Harriet in a warning tone. She then placed a hand on her arm, but Harriet shook her off.

‘It may as well be now,’ Harriet said. ‘The sooner I tell him, the sooner he can bugger off.’

Pen said, ‘Don’t. Not here. Take him out the back if you have to.’

‘You’re right.’ Harriet beckoned him over and Owen got to his feet, his stomach churning. Something was going on, but he had no idea what.

He followed her straight, stiff back as she pushed her way through the door leading to the staff area, with dread in his heart.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked as soon as the door swung shut behind them.

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