Excerpt from The Adults by Caroline Hulse, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Alex took a beat to process this. “Us?”

“Us. All of us. You and me. Her and Patrick. With Scarlett as the guest of honor.”

Alex stared at Matt. She gestured toward the kitchen table. This was not the kind of conversation Alex wanted to be having with someone who was standing in a doorway. She didn’t want to be having this conversation at all, but if she was going to have to do so, it would be with someone who was actually in the same room as her.

“At the Happy Forest holiday park in North Yorkshire.” Matt leaned on the back of a chair, palms down, like he was too excited to sit. “They pull out all the stops at Christmas, festive magic everywhere. Light-up reindeers and fake snow. Santa’s elves wander round the forest singing carols.”

Alex glanced at the wine rack but made herself look away. She refused to get annoyed. Annoyance led to irrationality, and irrationality was a personal—and professional—failure.

She lowered herself into a kitchen chair; it creaked. “This Christmas? You mean one month’s time Christmas?”

Matt sank into the chair next to Alex. He leaned forward and picked up one of her spotty-socked feet and placed it on his knee. “We’ve talked about it before, haven’t we?” He stroked her foot. “How magical it would be for Scarlett to spend Christmas with both me and Claire.”

“But we didn’t discuss it in that way. Not like we were really going to do it.”

Matt looked down at her foot. “But what other way is there?”

“We were just being smug about how grown-up and classy we are. It wasn’t a serious conversation.”

“It was to me.”

Alex felt a softening in her chest. Lovely Matt, who thought this kind of thing was a good idea. Who had accepted he would never be a superstar DJ, two years off his fortieth birthday. Who had recently bought a skateboard again, and who was planning to build a half-pipe in the garden—a prospect Alex hadn’t even objected to, knowing there was no chance he would ever get round to it.

Who thought stroking Alex’s socked foot would make this conversation easier.

Alex looked down at her lap. “Or maybe we meant go for a meal sometime. I’m sure no one meant a holiday.” She flicked one fingernail against another. “Claire can’t possibly think it’s a good idea. She’s a sensible woman.”

“She says we all get on fine. She likes you.”

“I like her too,” Alex said in a rush. She tried to get those words in first, when possible. “Did you tell her I’d agreed?”

Matt appeared to concentrate hard on Alex’s foot. He tipped his head forward; his fringe followed.

Curtains, Alex thought. That’s what they used to call that haircut in the early nineties. When it was worn by more age- and era-appropriate people.

“I thought I’d mentioned it, I’m sorry. But we can still make an excuse. Workload. Family clash.” Matt lifted his head in a question. “Dead grandparent?”

“I’m trying to understand if you’ve told her I’d agreed.”

Matt gave an oops smile.

“What does Patrick think about not getting to spend Christmas in Nottingham? Won’t he want to be near his own kids?”

“They’re teenagers. Claire said they never want to see him anyway.”

Alex took a deep breath. “So. Is the trip actually booked?”

“I’m sure we could get a refund. But you know Claire, she’s just so organized. Once she’s got an idea in her head, that’s it.” Matt shook his head tolerantly. “She’s probably packed her case already.”

Alex pressed her lips together. “Do other people do this? Go on holiday with their exes and their new partners?”

Excerpted from The Adults by Caroline Hulse. Copyright © 2018 by Caroline Hulse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.