Christmas is a time that every fresh couple both anticipates and dreads. The worst of it applies to divorced couples with one child or more.
He has become used to living alone and when the holidays roll by it's often felt like he's the loneliest man in the world when a year before he was in Dorset with a wife and daughter and a then year later alone in his flat with a scotch and a cheap plastic tree.
This year is different, mostly because he's only ever been to Cornwall once for a conference and remembers it being particularly unpleasant, but then again he didn't have enough time or space to enjoy it, which strikes him as a shame. He hears Molly talk about it often and when she does she makes it sound like something out of a novel. It sounds beautiful.
That's when he agrees to go with her for Christmas.
Now he is on the train to Cornwall with Molly's head resting on his shoulder with a book in her hand. They'll be staying at her mother's place, where her mother, brother and two sisters are eagerly waiting for them. They'll share presents around a large tree, tell stories over wine and sausage rolls, open crackers over a turkey dinner and end the day stuffed, sloshed and quite possibly horny. Come New Year they'll do the same thing all over again.
He won't be spending Christmas alone anymore and it feels strange.
When they arrive, they're both exhausted from both the train and the taxi ride. Molly's old house is small and modest, but holds a big family. As soon as the door opens the whole crowd practically swallows Molly up until she pulls herself through and hugs his arm.
"Everyone," she says. "This is Greg."