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‘Sounds good.’

Evelyn laughed. ‘That’s only because you’ve been in here all day. You haven’t seen the trees yet.’

‘Trees?’ Jake suddenly wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

‘This way.’ He couldn’t help but watch her as she sashayed through the marquee, clipboard in hand, in full organisation mode. Jake followed, thinking that he could happily let her organise him for years to come.

‘So, what do you think?’

‘I think we’ve got something really special here.’ The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he winced inwardly. He’d promised Evelyn he’d try and help her to find a bit more “joy and fun” in her life. It didn’t matter that he suspected he wanted a lot more than that; that was all she was able to offer, and he didn’t want to risk putting too much pressure on her, and losing what they did have.

‘What?’ Evelyn spun to look at him, an odd look on her face.

‘Here in Broclington,’ he amended clumsily, part of him hating himself for wimping out. ‘The whole community coming out to help. All the trees and everything.’ He indicated the dozens of trees standing along the square, that were already being decorated by villagers of all ages.

‘Yes, it really is a special place,’ Evelyn agreed, but she still watched him with the odd look.

‘So what is it you want me to do?’

‘Well, we still need to garland the main tree, and finish decorating the top half. How are you with heights?’

‘Not too bad.’ He eyed up the fir tree, which was now over twenty feet tall, and smiled at the plaque that was in danger of disappearing beneath its big branches. It was only eight years ago the village had decided to club together and buy a live fir tree to be planted in the corner of the village square for Christmas. It had been lovingly cared for, watered and decorated ever since, and was thriving as a visual representation of the sense of community in the village. ‘What do you want up there?’

‘The school have been making paper snowflakes, and the teachers strung them all together on ribbon.’

‘And you thought the tree our current villagers planted should be decorated by our next generation? Very appropriate.’

‘The committee thought so. Plus so many of them are friends with Summer. I think they all liked having things to do to help.’ She looked at the floor momentarily, and for a second Jake could see her eyes glistening in the sun. ‘Everyone has wanted to do things to help.’

‘That’s just how we do things here.’ He swung an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her in close, revelling in the way she fitted so easily against him. ‘So, take me to the snowflakes.’

Chapter Sixteen

Evelyn bolted awake, her heart thumping as the adrenaline spiked and she tried to work out what was wrong and what had woken her.

The bed bounced, and a soft giggle filled the darkness.

Now more awake, Evelyn slid her hands out from under the covers, and seized the little monster jumping on her. She tackled the monster and pinned her to the bed, half under the covers. ‘Have you any idea what the time is?’

‘Nope, but it’s Christmas day.’

‘I suppose it is.’ Evelyn smiled as she tucked the covers around them both. ‘But it is still really early. And it’s going to be a long day. You should try to get some sleep.’

‘But I’m too excited,’ Summer argued, even as she stifled a yawn.

‘But you want to have enough energy to enjoy every single minute, don’t you?’

‘S’pose.’

‘So maybe we could go back to sleep? At least until it gets light?’

Summer gave her a disgusted sigh. ‘Ugh. If I have to,’ and cuddled against her mother. Evelyn breathed in her daughter’s warm, sleepy scent and closed her eyes happily, grateful for the incredibly precious moment. And the chance to get a little more sleep.

An hour or two later, when the sun was finally filtering through the curtains, Evelyn carefully slipped out of bed and tiptoed out of the room. She wanted Summer to get as much sleep as possible. And from the slightly selfish point of view that every parent would understand, but rarely admit to – except after a few drinks and in very select company – she enjoyed a few minutes to herself to sip coffee and just relax before switching into “mum mode”.

The enormous importance of the day weighed heavily on her shoulders, and her stomach turned at the thought of food. The fears that had been plaguing her for the last few weeks returned, bringing friends and piling up her stress levels until even the coffee turned sour in her mouth.

She was blown away, and humbled, by all the work that the community had already put into raising funds for her and Summer, and the village did look beautiful. But she couldn’t help the doubts and fears that refused to be ignored. Broclington was big – as far as midland villages on the edge of the Cotswolds, they were one of the biggest, but they were still just a village community. The amount of money needed to fund Summer’s treatment seemed unsurmountable, especially when it was a village community spearheading the campaign.