She shivered as she pushed the key into the lock and opened the front door. My wassail warmth is waning, she thought. Joe climbed the stairs to the flat, slow and steady with Verity in his arms. Maggie followed.
Her home was warm and welcoming, lit only by the fairy lights on the tree. Together they got Verity into her pajamas and tucked into bed. She woke briefly but quickly dozed back off.
Back in the kitchen, Maggie put the kettle on. “Tea?” she called out quietly. She turned to find Joe standing in front of her and instinctively she wrapped her arms around him.
“You pulled it off, Mags, it was an amazing winter solstice celebration.”
“We pulled it off,” she corrected. “That was a hell of a joint effort. It went okay in the end, though, didn’t it?”
“Okay? It was amazing. You’re amazing.”
“Oh, you’re just saying that to get me into bed.” Maggie winked at him.
“Is it working?”
“Hell yeah.”
Joe kissed her, gently at first and then more deeply, and she felt herself unfurl like one of the fern fronds in the rowan tree woods. She let herself melt into him as his hands moved to hold her waist. They kissed their way out of the kitchen, but when Joe angled them toward the sofa, she stopped and broke away. He looked at her quizzically, and she took his hand and led him toward her bedroom.
“No more sneaking around,” she said. “No more scurrying back to your single bed at the pub. Tonight, all night, and every night hereafter, we sleep together.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, searching her eyes.
“Positive.”
He smiled, pulling her roughly to him and kissing her, his hands splayed across her back, keeping her close. “I can’t guarantee that all we’ll do is sleep,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a low growl.
Maggie was breathless. “Oh, thank heavens for that.” They stumbled into her bedroom, where she paused only to kick the door closed.
In the kitchen, the kettle came to a boil and clicked itself off, but nobody came to make tea.
Epilogue
Five Years Later
The winter solstice celebration at Rowan Thorp was a tradition now firmly set in the hearts of the villagers. Each year, more and more people gathered to dance about the bonfire and sing songs of old and join the procession around the village, bestowing blessings on one another and the land and welcoming the spirit of thankfulness into their hearts.
The blessings certainly seemed to have worked on Gerry and Parminder’s orchard. Their crops had been so plentiful in the last few years that as well as donating cider to the winter solstice celebration, they had taken to bottling their own wassail and selling it in the local shops. It was very popular with tourists.
While the general merriment was open to all, the winter solstice banquet remained a village affair only. Though the village hall roof had long since been made watertight and the option of a marquee on the green was still in the cards, it was unanimously decided that the banquet should always be held in the clearing of the rowan tree woods. The patchwork tarp had been mended and reinforced, and the crockery was still a colorful mishmash pulled from many cupboards.
Star had acted as a surrogate for Simone and Evette and delivered to them little Ava North, who was now three. A few months after Ava was born, she fell unexpectedly pregnant again—this time with Duncan’s baby—and nine months later Primrose North was welcomed into the world. All her previous ambivalence at the idea of having children of her own had evaporated the moment she’d held Primrose in her arms. Star was obsessed; she hadn’t imagined a love so all-encompassing was possible until that moment. There was a time when she’d had to search for her daily dose of magic, but now her daughter supplied her with all the magic moments she could ever need.
That said, Star was not a woman who glowed during pregnancy. It had tested every ounce of her natural spark. Duncan had been consummately patient as the love of his life grumbled and grimaced her way through heartburn, swollen ankles, mood swings, backaches, insomnia, all-day sickness, and constipation during her pregnancy with Ava. Simone had once described Star’s pregnancy temperament as a cross between the Wicked Witch of the West and the Hulk, and Star, ever self-aware, had agreed with her.
When she fell pregnant again so soon after, it was decided that if she and Duncan could get through another nine months like the last, they could get through anything else life threw at them in the future. Star’s midwife was less than pleased to see her again so soon, given the risks of tightly spaced pregnancies. But despite being a self-confessed miserable cow and grumpy mule, Star was also as healthy as a horse. When their beloved Primrose finally arrived, Star immediately got a contraceptive implant and Duncan underwent a vasectomy to be doubly sure. She and Duncan were united in their decision to pour all their love into their daughter and that Star should never become pregnant again.
After a happy trial run, Simone and Evette moved permanently to Rowan Thorp. They opened a joint practice on the high street, called Mind & Body, where Simone eased the villagers’ physical aches and Evette took care of their mental health. Simone’s days of freebie physiotherapy consultations in storerooms around the village were thankfully a thing of the past and she now received proper remuneration for her professional services. A year after Ava was born, the couple welcomed a daughter into their family via adoption, a four-year-old named Natalia, who epitomized all the mischief of the North sisters combined, and their family was complete.
The three little cousins were the apples of everyone’s eyes and had their aunty Maggie and uncle Joe wrapped around their little fingers. It was an endless source of joy to Simone and Star that their children would grow up so close together, both in age and proximity.
Star and Duncan reopened North Novelties & Curios, and it was by far the most popular shop on the high street, bringing in tourists from far and wide. Duncan kept his links with Sotheby’s and still did some freelance appraisal work for them. Star surprised everyone by completing an Open University degree in art history, and her natural eye for spotting a hidden gem at flea markets was even keener than Augustus’s.
When Patrick finished his degree, he got a job in Dorset, and Louella joined him soon after. Joe had become Patrick’s go-to for all matters of electric, career, and man-to-man advice. Patrick and Louella saved enough holiday each year so that they could spend three weeks in Rowan Thorp at Christmas. Maggie always cried happy tears when Patrick finally arrived and she had all her ducks in a row.
Verity was now fifteen with a stroppy age exactly appropriate for a fifteen-year-old. She was rebellious and forthright, and Maggie secretly loved that her daughter was such a force of nature, even as she grounded her and slapped her with curfews on school nights. She didn’t even really mind the tattoo that Verity had had done illegally, though she’d made a good show of parental outrage at the time. Despite her often prickly demeanor, Verity was a gooey blob of softness with her little cousins. Natalia had already decided she was going to have tattoos like Verity when she was a big girl.
With the proceeds from sales of the Hilliard and several other choice items, Maggie and Joe had saved enough money to take over the mortgage from the village of Rowan Thorp and now owned the grocer’s and the large flat above it outright. Between them, they had completely refurbished the flat and made it truly their own. They had also taken on two part-time employees in the grocer’s, which meant Saturday mornings were now for staying snuggled up in bed till 8 a.m. followed by a leisurely breakfast for two at Betty’s.