Her loneliness would have been too raw, she would once again have been horrified at the idea of provoking pity. But because she had had what she was thinking of increasingly as ‘a normal Christmas’, she did not hesitate in dialling Jude’s number the minute she got home. Another person might have knocked on the door of Woodside Cottage but not Carole Seddon. Her neighbour sounded bleary and Carole realized it was only half-past eight in the morning, perhaps a little early to contact someone on a public holiday. ‘I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.’ ‘You did, actually, but don’t worry about it.’ ‘Were you late last night?’ ‘Yes, I was at Georgie’s; she and her family always have their Christmas dinner in the evening, and then we were playing party games into the small hours. I didn’t get back till about three.’ ‘Oh,’ said Carole, a little worried that a Christmas Day whose celebrations finished at four in the afternoon when Stephen and family had left perhaps didn’t match up.
