‘The holly and the ivy’

again,” she replied stiffly, tugging at the ribbon to undo the bow.

Just hearing her voice again made Fran realise how much she had missed her friend – her sense of humour, their girls’ nights out, chatting over a latte or a glass of wine. Their time together had been a welcome break from the daily round of being a busy mum.

Abby’s company had made Fran feel young and carefree. Her other friends were all married mothers like herself while Abby was footloose and fancyfree with an interesting job in the city. When they met at a Pilates class the two 30-something women had hit it off straight away. After Steve walked out, Fran stopped going to the Pilates class.

Half an hour passed and everyone’s wreaths began to take shape as sprays of evergreen were attached to the wire frames. Fran sneaked a glance at Abby’s effort. She was concentrating on weaving mistletoe between the sprigs of holly. Carefully avoiding Fran’s eye, she said: “We’re not together any more, you know.” “What?”

“Hasn’t Steve told you?” Abby turned to her in surprise. “He has been gone for months.”

Fran shook her head. Conversations with Steve were strictly limited to arrangements for the girls.

Abby went on: “Things never really worked out. He broke it off and a few weeks later I heard he’d started seeing someone he works with.”

Fran said nothing. ‘Poetic justice,’ she thought.

Abby sighed heavily. “Fran, I am so, so sorry. It was the biggest mistake I ever made in my life.”

This was a conversation they’d never had. Fran had been livid and desperately hurt at the time, but she wasn’t the type to make a big scene. Instead, she had got on with her life and focused on trying to comfort and support her daughters.

“I’m so ashamed of what happened and how it must have affected you and the girls. I don’t know what on earth came over me…” Abby’s voice trailed off.

‘Oh, I do’, Fran thought. ‘Steve can be very persuasive when he thinks he’s in love’. She knew his big romantic gestures all too well. These days, she preferred Greg’s calm, down-to-earth style. ‘It’s Christmas,’ she told herself. ‘Don’t spoil it by being bitter’.

Putting her hand on her friend’s arm, she said: “It’s OK. Let’s put the whole thing behind us.”

The workshop came to an end. As Abby held her wreath up a strand of ivy came loose and dislodged several tiny baubles which bounced under the table. The bow on Fran’s wreath was decidedly lopsided and there were too many holly berries down one side and not enough on the other. They both had a fit of giggles.

Edith announced: “I hope you have all enjoyed this morning. Now it’s time to go home and hang your wreaths on the door to show your friends and family that they are all welcome at this festive season.”

The women laughed and groaned at the prospect of all the extra work in the weeks ahead – shopping, cooking, wrapping presents and decorating the tree.

Fran turned to Abby and smiled. “You are welcome to visit us, you know.” “Really?” Abby looked doubtful. “Well, this is the season of goodwill and seeing you today has made me realise how much I’ve missed our friendship.”

Impulsively, Fran threw her arms wide and the two women hugged. A few more baubles fell off and rolled across the floor, but neither of them noticed.

‘I’m so ashamed of what happened – how it must have affected you and the girls’