Page 55 of A Manny for Christmas

‘Definitely,’ Max agrees, shooting daggers at Daisy that make her giggle even harder. ‘I’ll get you back later, Daze.With tickles.’

She shrieks even more loudly, and the rest of us wince.

‘Remember this, Mummy?’ Toby asks, pulling a bauble carefully out of an open box. While the rest of us fool around, he’s laser-focused on the task at hand.

‘Of course I do, darling,’ I say fondly.

He holds it aloft and presents it to Max. It’s a glass sphere withHarrodswritten on one side in silver glitter andBaby’s First Christmason the other. ‘My daddy buyed me a decoration every Christmas. This one was when I was a baby.’

Max brushes his fingertips over it. ‘It’s stunning, mate,’ he tells him softly. ‘Really special.’

I clear my throat, which suddenly feels thick. ‘Daddy texted me the other day to tell me this year’s decorations are on the way,’ I say. ‘That’s exciting, isn’t it?’

‘Yay!’ Toby says, while Daisy squeaks with excitement, and the sense of injustice that my kids should be so damn happy with a pathetic token from their dad at this time of year makes my blood boil.

‘I’m going to put this here,’ Toby announces, before hanging the bauble reverently on a low-hanging branch.

Max glances at me and gives me a tight smile of solidarity. He gets it, too. He raises his voice to a cheery pitch.

‘Well, these decorations are certainly a lot fancier than the ones we used to have, Mol. You’ve got classier in your old age. Remember that tinsel we had, that first Christmas?’

I laugh and cringe. ‘God. It was pretty tacky. And we were so proud of ourselves.’

‘What first Christmas?’ Toby demands.

I exchange a look with Max before answering him. ‘Max and I used to live together. He was my boyfriend before I met Daddy.’

His jaw drops open, while, from the corner of the room, Daisy sniggers at the wordboyfriend.‘He was your boyfriend? Like a boy that you kissed?’

I take a slug from my almost-empty glass of champagne. ‘Er, yeah. When grown-ups have a boyfriend or girlfriend, they like to kiss them.’And the rest.

That’s yuckyis Toby’s disgusted verdict on our prior relationship status.

I brave another glance at Max. He’s watching me, his face soft, the light of memory in his eyes.

‘They were good times,’ he says. ‘We should have been proud of ourselves.’

‘Do you know who’s living in the cottage now?’ I ask him.

‘It’s an Airbnb. After I fuc—went off to Africa, Jules and Rach tarted it all up. Farrow and Ball everywhere. It turns over a nice little income, apparently.’

‘I bet it does.’ I stare into the fire, but my mind’s eye serves me up an image of our sweet little cottage, all done out in gorgeous creams and greys and taupes and duck-egg blues. Fern-print curtains and velvet-trimmed lampshades. I bet Jules has done a gorgeous job. I’d consider taking the kids up there for a break if it wouldn’t hurt so much. ‘I love that place. I was so happy there.’

‘You weren’t, Mol.’

His voice is so low and pained that I look up sharply at him. He shakes his head.

‘Not in the end. You did the right thing, you know. I always admired you for going after what you wanted. I thought you were so brave, even though I was heartbroken.’

My face must be as crestfallen as I feel inside, because he comes towards me and gently removes my empty champagne glass from my grip. He tips my chin up with a finger so I’m forced to look into those gorgeous hazel eyes as he gives me ayou’ve got thisnod.

‘Do you want some help getting these two bathed?’

* * *

When the kids are down,Max opens the fridge to unearth a second bottle of champagne and peer at the contents.

‘Brunch as supper?’ he asks, twisting around to look at me. ‘Omelette and sourdough?’

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