“I really hope it is going to be theSnow Globesequel,” Levi says dreamily, his chin resting on his hands as he sits behind the stall, completely ignoring the line of customers. “I don’t think I can go on living without knowing what happened to Evie and Luke after she stood him up at the village Christmas tree”
“She didn’t stand him up,” I snap, before I can stop myself. “She would never have done that. It was him. It was all him.”
Paris and Levi exchange looks.
“Breathe, bestie,” says Paris, eyebrows raised. “It’s not that deep.”
“Don’t listen to her,” interrupts Levi, looking excited. “It’stotallythat deep. Tell us everything you know. Because youdoknow, don’t you, Holly? You know how it ends? Youmustdo. Because it’syou. It’shim. So come on, I’m begging you. Take pity on a poor boy who just wants a happy ever after.”
I roll my eyes. ??“There’s nothing to tell, Levi,” I say firmly. “And if I never hear another word about Evie and Luke, it’ll be too soon. Trust me.”
“So, I’m assuming youdidn’tleave him waiting in the village square, like she does in the book,” he goes on, as if I haven’t spoken. “Because that’s, like, right next to the shop, so he’d just have come in and found you rather than standing there like an abandoned puppy. So, where did you do it? And how long did he wait, do you think?”
??“Ididn’tdo it,” I reply, my voice rising in frustration at the unfairness of this. “I didn’t do anything, Levi.Hedid it. Elliot did it. He was the one who leftme. And I’ll never, ever forgive him for it.”
The last words come out into complete silence; or near enough, anyway. There’s still some noise from the people at the front of the hall, next to the stage, but everyone around us has stopped what they’re doing to look on with interest as I deliver this little speech, the words tumbling out of me as if they’ve been waiting a long time to do it.
Which I suppose they have.
It’s only as I open my mouth again to try to explain myself — not that it worked particularly well the first time — that it occurs to me that the eyes of the people around me aren’t actually onmeat all. No, they’re all staring at something directly behind me; which is a relief, until I turn around and realize what it is.
Orwhoit is, rather.
Elliot is standing at my shoulder, having presumably walked over at some point either before or during my little outburst. His face is pinched and white with shock — or anger, or some other emotion which I don’t have to be a psychologist to know is most likely a sign that yes, he definitelydidhear everything I just said.
Looks like I was right then. This is definitely going to be a very long day.
“Holly. Can I have a word, please?”
It’s phrased as a request, but there’s absolutely no way I can refuse it without turning this into even more of a scene than it already is, so I decide to take the path of least resistance and turn to follow Elliot meekly toward the nearest exit, feeling countless sets of curious eyes — and quite a few phone cameras — on us both as we go.
This may not be the show they came for, but it’s definitely the one they all wanted. “Care to explain what that was about back there?”
Elliot whirls around to face me as soon as we’re in the corridor outside the main hall, his eyes flashing dangerously, and his voice a little louder than is wise, given that Levi probably has his ear pressed to the other side of the door we’re standing in front of.
“Ileftyou?” he goes on, before I have time to answer. “Ileftyou, Holly?” Is that what you just said?”
“Um, well, yeah,” I reply, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, and feeling a bit like a naughty schoolgirl who’s been called to the headmaster’s office for a telling off. “Look, I probably shouldn’t have said it right there. I get that. It was … unprofessional. Or something. But … well, it was also true, so…”
I trail off, not knowing what else there is to say.
Elliot stares at me in astonishment.
“It’s true thatIleftyou?” he repeats, as if he’s determined to keep on repeating the words until they somehow make sense. “Shouldn’t that be the other way around?”
Now it’s my turn to do the staring-in-astonishment thing.
“I didn’t leave you, Holly,” Elliot says firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest in the manner of a man who’s utterly convinced he’s right. “I think you’ll find you were the one who left me.”
27
“Um, no, Elliot,” I tell him, shaking my head until it hurts. “Uh-uh. You’re not doing that. You’re not getting to rewrite the past by saying I’m the one who ended it. I know that’s what you did in your book — that whole thing with him waiting for her at the Christmas tree, and she never shows up? But that didn’t happen, did it?”
I prop my shoulder against the wall, and cross my own arms just as tightly, convinced I’ve made my point, and made it well. There’s no chance of him wriggling out of this one.
“Yes, it did,” Elliot says, speaking quietly but firmly. “And, no, not at the tree; that was a bit of artistic license. I waited for you at the airport, though. For as long as I possibly could. I waited until the flight had finished boarding and they told me if I didn’t get on it, it would leave without me. I waited and waited, Holly. But you didn’t show up.”
“Ididshow up!” I blurt out, incensed. “Of course I did.Iwaited at the airport! But you seem to be forgetting that you left on the wrong day, Elliot. We were supposed to leave on Christmas Eve, but you went the day before. Didn’t you?”
