Page 91 of The Cosy Travelling Christmas Shop

Daniel stared at the floor, not daring to look up in case his pain showed on his face. He’d been such a fool. But why come here to talk to him about Seren?

Edwin continued, ‘She told Nelly she was going to sell the van.’ He snorted. ‘You’ll never guess – it wasn’t her father who bought her that ice cream van, it was Nelly. And she also paid to have it converted.’

‘Dad, that’s not important right now,’ Linda reminded him.

‘Sorry, love, you’re right.’

Daniel was confused. ‘Why was she upset? I’d be dead chuffed if someone bought me a van and paid to have work done on it.’

‘She’s been sacked,’ Edwin said. ‘Because of the van. They claimed it’s gross misconduct, something to do with a conflict of interest and her telling a customer that she said the stuff she was selling was of better quality than the goods in the supermarket she works in.’

‘Did she tell you this?’

‘Nelly did, after Seren left.’

If Daniel hadn’t felt awful before, he most certainly did now. He’d dumped her, and then she’d been sacked. ‘She must be at her wits’ end,’ he said, his chest tightening as he thought of how terrible she must be feeling. ‘To lose her job just before Christmas is the pits, and with a little girl to support, too.’

‘Dad, for goodness’ sake, tell him!’ Linda cried.

‘That’s the thing, that’s what I wanted to tell you,’ Edwin said. ‘Seren doesn’t have a child.’ He sat back smugly. ‘Your friend got it wrong.’

Daniel gawped at him, his mouth open, his eyes wide, not certain he’d heard properly. ‘Are you sure?’

‘She told me so herself. The little girl Tobias saw her with was her friend’s. The child calls Seren God-Mummy because Seren is her godmother. Tobias must have thought he heard the girl call her Mummy.’

Daniel slumped back in his chair, and nausea washed over him as the news sank in. He’d been an idiot, a total wally. If only he hadn’t acted so hastily. If only he had checked for himself. If only he’d not made such a stupid vow. If only…

He swallowed down a lump in his throat, and there was an ache in his heart so fierce he thought it might shatter into a thousand pieces. ‘Thanks, Grandad, I appreciate you telling me this. But…’ He swallowed again. ‘It’s too late. She probably hates me, and even if she doesn’t, when I tell her the reason I broke up with her she’ll definitely hate me.’

‘I already told her.’ Edwin had the grace to look sheepish. ‘I thought she deserved to know.’

Daniel blinked hard, tears gathering in his eyes, and he shook his head in despair. God, what must she think of him? ‘What did she say?’

‘Not a lot,’ Edwin admitted. ‘Did I do the right thing?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘She did say one thing,’ Edwin added after a pause. ‘She said to tell you she wishes you well in your new job.’ He paused again. ‘But you haven’t got a new job, have you?’

Numbly Daniel shook his head.

‘In that case, shouldn’t you tell her that?’

‘What’s the point?’ Daniel asked.

‘Love is the point, son.Love.’

Seren seriously wasn’t in the mood for making Christmas decorations. She was sitting in the shed, her fingers freezing and her heart sore. Or was her heart freezing and her fingers sore? Both, probably. She felt cold inside and out, and all of her hurt. Not so much a physical ache, but an ache deep in her soul.

She was only out here in an attempt to use up the rest of the greenery so she didn’t have to throw it away. She was supposed to be taking her van to a Christmas tree farm tomorrow, and although she desperately didn’t want to go, she felt obliged to shift as much of her suppliers’ stock as she could by the end of the day so she could ease her conscience that she’d done her best by them. As for her own stuff, she’d leave it until nearer lunchtime before discounting all the wreaths, garlands, and assorted table decorations she’d so lovingly made.

The farm held a Christmas tree sale every year which was usually well attended, so she was hoping for a good turnout. She was also hoping that those people who preferred real trees would also prefer fresh garlands and not the fake variety, which was why she was using up the last of her supplies. If she didn’t manage to get rid of everything she’d made, she’d donate whatever was left to any residential homes and shelters willing to take them off her hands.

‘I’ve brought you a mug of hot chocolate,’ her dad said, poking his head around the door and letting in a blast of icy air.

He wore a worried expression, as well he might. Seren hadn’t forgiven him for letting her believehe’dbought the ice cream van, when it had been Aunt Nelly’s doing all along. And letting her believe she’d spent all her savings on such a crazy idea as a travelling gift shop, had been downright cruel.

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Put it over there, please.’

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