‘Great!’Nope, squeaky. I cleared my throat. ‘I’m sure it won’t take long. I’ll be back down when I’ve finished Marilise’s routine with her.’
Throwing the bowl in a cupboard, I scuttled away, my face burning, and barely managed to pull myself together to do my job that evening.
By the time I bid Marilise good night, I was feeling calmer and returned to the kitchen with every intention of making a quick batch of mince pies and keeping up the jolly festive banter of the afternoon. The kitchen was far away enough that we could listen to some Christmas songs without disturbing anyone, and I got out my phone to find a playlist. But, when I opened the door, Nick had beaten me to it, and I was met with the ethereal strains of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’.
‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘Carols from King’s?’
He nodded.
‘Yes, I went once, years ago. I thought it would get us prepared for the Montgomerys’ concert. It’s not just Christmas pop you like, is it?’
He looked anxious.
‘No, absolutely not. I love carols. I was in a nurses’ choir once, I loved it.’
‘You should do it again.’
‘Maybe.’ I shook myself. ‘Come on, let’s get these mince pies going or we’ll be here all night.’
Angela, in her kindness, had laid out everything we would need, so it was a case of making pastry, rolling and cutting it and adding the mincemeat and pastry lids. The kitchen was warm and peaceful, a contrast from the busy town earlier. The only noises were the gentle music playing and the occasional snore from Steve, who was most put out not to be allowed any pastry offcuts, as he was still on a simple diet. Nick and I chatted easily; he was still very enthused about the decorations we had bought.
‘I think you’ve come round to Christmas,’ I said, sliding the pies into the oven. ‘Aren’t you going to miss it when this place is sold and you’re sipping a cocktail on the beach come the twenty-fifth, rather than shivering in the Somerset chill?’
‘Doesn’t sound too bad,’ he said. ‘But I have to admit that I’m beginning to understand all that stuff about Christmas being about the people.’ He stepped closer to me and my heart picked up its pace. ‘You have icing sugar on your face,’ he said, and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. The fireworks decided to prove that, up until now, they had been nothing but a warmup act. ‘I liked kissing you earlier,’ he went on. Unwilling to risk any more squeaking, I nodded. ‘Although I could have done without all those bloody elves standing around. Maybe we could try again, just the two of us?’
And then he came closer still and his lips met mine. I kissed him back, hesitantly at first as thoughts whizzed through my brain:Don’t mix work and pleasure! This is the first person you’ve kissed since Paulo! He’s moving to LA!But each thought was extinguished as quickly as it came, as if from a touch by a fairy’s wand –poof!– and I allowed the kiss to deepen, my arms snaking around his back, our feet interlaced. He started to kiss my neck, twining his fingers into my hair, and I think the ensuing scene would have been highly unsuitable for Steve’s eyes, had the oven timer not chosen that exact moment to chime.I laughed reluctantly and, my whole body trembling, grabbed the oven gloves to remove the mince pies.
‘Can’t we leave them?’ murmured Nick, lifting my hair and kissing the back of my neck. ‘I’m sure they’d be fine.’
‘Sadly not,’ I replied, opening the oven door. ‘Angela would never forgive us if we burnt them.’
‘Fair point,’ he said, and stepped away so that I could put them on the cooling rack. Truth be told, I wasn’t wholly sorry to have been put on a cooling rack myself, so to speak. Incredible though the kiss had been, and tempting though it was to let it continue, I had spent three years grieving and shying away from anything that reminded me of Paulo. Hell, I had actively avoided Christmas and Valentine’s Day, but the thought of meeting another man had never entered my consciousness. My hand went reflexively to my necklace. I fussed with the pies for as long as I could, then turned around. Nick was leaning on the table, a tender smile on his face.
‘You’re going to turn in now, right?’ he said. ‘And I’ll see you in the morning?’
Thank goodness I didn’t have to explain.
‘I am, yes.’
‘I’ve enjoyed making mince pies with you,’ he said. ‘You’re doing a very good job of immersing me in Christmas. Right, I’ll take Steve out for a final run.’
He called to his dog and, as he passed me, kissed me once more, very briefly, on the lips.
‘Good night,’ he said. ‘I look forward to seeing you in the morning.’
I went upstairs feeling dazed, not knowing what my head thought but knowing that my heart was singing and with a smile on my face that couldn’t be suppressed.
FIFTEEN
When I awoke the next morning, I was still grinning. I lay for a moment letting the events of last night return to me and reliving every spinetingling moment. My hand went automatically to my necklace, as it so often did, and I cautiously probed my feelings about Paulo. To my surprise, they were less raw than usual and felt, oddly, both combined with yet detached from my bubbling happiness over what had happened with Nick. And what of Nick? I was well aware that I still didn’t know him very well, that he was planning to move goodness knew where in the world, but somehow those thoughts failed to take hold. All I could think of was how he had opened up to me about his father, how wholeheartedly he had thrown himself into making Christmas special for his family, how tender, then passionate, his kisses had been. I sighed.Not much point in trying to disentangle it all now, I thought.Let’s see where today takes me.
I hopped out of bed, took a quick shower and went in to see Marilise, who was already sitting up in bed.
‘Good morning!’ I said, going to open the curtains. ‘Oh, look. It’s snowing, how gorgeous!’
‘I do love the snow,’ she replied. ‘Is it that which has put you on such good form this morning, Laura? You are so cheerful.’
I beamed at her, part of me longing to perch on the side of her bed and spill out the whole story, but although she probably wouldn’t have minded in the least, it wouldn’t have been remotely appropriate or professional.
