I’d talked to plenty of people so far this Christmas, but no one I loved. I needed to try and phone my mum and grandad at some point. And find my mobile so I could contact my friends. I probably wouldn’t have the time, but it was Christmas Day and without speaking to any of them, it was starting to feel very lonely.
The door swung ajar, forcing my eyes up from my unseeing scrutiny of Neeta’s mysterious instructions. Nick poked his head around it.
‘Morning, is it okay to come in?’
‘Of course.’
He came straight over, cupped my cheek in his hand and laid the softest kiss right on my lips. My heart break-danced around my ribcage.
‘Merry Christmas,’ he murmured.
‘Merry Christmas,’ I sighed back at him. It didn’t matter that we’d already spent the early hours of Christmas morning wrapped around each other, that tenderness had my mind and heart reeling together. Seeing Nick instantly lifted me out of my melancholy about being lonely – vaporised it almost – but I didn’t understand why really. Of course, I didn’t love him. I barely knew him. It was just that this was actuallysomethingnow. Not a fumble, or a distraction, or a fling.Somethingthat could turn into everything.
The idea froze in my mind.
‘Are you all right?’ Nick pushed an escaping strand of my hair back from my face and it sprang straight back out again.
‘Yeah. Just tired.’ I told myself that I needed to detach from his embrace and carry on doing things, but I couldn’t quite muster the discipline. ‘You must be too after sleeping on the sofa? You could’ve—’ I broke off and bit my lip a little, then decidedwhat the hell?‘You could’ve joined me.’
He smiled but shook his head. ‘You were fast asleep. I couldn’t do that without knowing it was okay with you. The sofa was fine. I haven’t slept like that in ages.’
He did look more relaxed. Some of the tension he’d been carrying around, knotting up his broad shoulders, had eased out, so he seemed taller and more confident. His jawline was smoothly shaven and I pressed a kiss against it to test the velvety softness of his skin. He smelled divine; shower gel and aftershave mingling with total awareness of consent.
‘Sorry about passing out on you.’
‘You’re probably burned out.’
I smiled and threw an arched look at the oven behind me. ‘Just so long as that goose isn’t burned, it’s all good.’
‘Itsmellsgood.’
‘Excellent. I’m halfway there then.’ The turn of the conversation brought the anxiety threading through my veins again, and my eyes flicked to the clock for the millionth time that morning. ‘I really don’t know how I’m going to manage it all though. Cooking the bird is one thing. Doing all the other stuff too – the potatoes and the pigs in blankets and vegetables? How am I going to get it all on the plate and then serve it too?’
‘I can be another pair of hands—’
‘Nick, I wasn’t fishing. You need to be with your family. It’s Christmas Day.’
‘I doubt any of us really want to sit at a table and think about how Mum isn’t here with us.’ He spoke in one quick exhalation that used up all the oxygen in his chest. He took a deep breath to fill his lungs up again. ‘Let’s go find my nan and Stephen, and see if we can rope them in.’
‘Okay.’ We headed up the staff staircase hand in hand. Nick seemed to be a hand-holder and I liked it. Peter had been more the type to sling his arm around my waist or shoulders, which was more awkward and made me feel either like I was being confined or shepherded along.
It was very quiet on the upper floor now and when we knocked on Dorie’s door there was no answer.
‘She must be downstairs,’ Nick said.
The lounge was full but she wasn’t in there. So, we checked the other communal rooms – I realised I’d accidentally left the bar unlocked when I whipped up the champagne cocktails earlier and had to remedy that – and then we went into the library. That was full too but no sign of Dorie, although Stephen was in there playing chess with Noelle. As soon as he saw us, he leaned over the board, whispering something to her, before standing up and coming over to the door.
‘So, you’ve finally crawled out of bed,’ he greeted Nick, but it was only a half-hearted jab; he was too busy assessing his brother. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas.’ Nick gave him a hug and said something quietly in his brother’s ear, which made Stephen grip the back of Nick’s neck hard and squeeze him even harder. I looked around the room, trying to give them a bit of privacy but not catch any of the guests’ eyes, lest they started requesting things, like food or carols or more champagne cocktails. When the brothers disattached they cleared their throats. ‘Have you seen Nan?’
‘No. She didn’t come down for breakfast.’ Stephen frowned. ‘I assumed she’d slept in.’
‘I knocked on her door but there was no answer…’ Nick chewed on his lip. ‘D’you think she’s all right?’
There was a beat of silence and then Stephen nodded. ‘Yeah. Yeah, of course she is. She was probably just in the bathroom when you knocked.’
‘Good point. I mean, where else would she be – it’s not like she can go for a walk in the snow. We’ll go try again.’
