Page 109 of Last Christmas in London

Michael shifted his weight, glancing away for a second, as if debating whether to say something or just let the stillness stretch between them.

‘So… how long are you in London for?’ Simon’s voice was steady, but I could hear the effort it took to sound casual.

Michael hesitated but cleared his throat and gestured to the building. ‘A few days. I had some meetings.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t expect to run into you here. On New Year’s Eve.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Simon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair and reclaiming my hand in his; I felt his hand tremble slightly and placed my other hand on top of his to steady him. ‘I’ve been around.’

Another silence.

‘I’m here for Evie. She’s had a job offer.’

Michael nodded slowly. ‘Congratulations,’ he said to me, though he only had eyes for his son.

‘Thank you!’

‘You look well.’ Michael’s words were awkward, halting, as if they weren’t something he was used to saying.

Simon fidgeted again, his lips pressing together before he spoke. ‘Thanks!’ A beat passed. Then, softer, ‘You too.’

It was small – barely anything – but it was something. A tentative olive branch in a sea of years where neither had reached out.

‘How was your Christmas?’ I asked and they seemed to turn and look at me as if to say Why would you ask that? ‘I understand it’s a difficult time for you. For you both,’ I added. Simon squeezed my hand.

Michael looked at the ground for a moment but corrected himself pretty swiftly. ‘It can be, but it was fine. Quiet, but fine.’

‘Did you work?’ Simon asked quickly and Michael didn’t respond but, rather than letting the air between them widen, Simon continued, ‘Maybe next year we can spend Christmas together.’

Michael’s face remained neutral for a long moment. But then, so subtly that I almost missed it, his shoulders loosened and he smiled with his eyes. ‘I’d like that.’

I seemed to be overcome by a very Pim-ish trait and stepped in. ‘Maybe a lunch a bit sooner than Christmas next year, you plebs.’

Okay, one final act of helping others before myself.

‘Honestly. I’ll organise it, I’m great at organising lunches. Ooh, maybe we can get a reservation at Nobu. There’s nothing like watching someone eat sushi to develop a bond quickly – or fix it, or whatever it is you two are doing besides brooding.’

I could see Simon desperately trying to hold in a laugh, and even Michael let out a breath of something that might have been amusement.

‘Lunch could be arranged,’ Michael said, though Nobu was out – I knew that as soon as I said it – a meal at The Ivy would do these two perfectly fine.

Simon clapped his hands together. ‘This has been a rather exciting day. And Evie and I have a date to watch the fireworks.’

‘A date,’ Michael repeated. ‘Are you Simon’s, erm… girlfriend?’

The two of them paused to let me answer, but I would have hoped that was obvious.

‘Uh, sure. Girlfriend.’ I rolled the word in my mouth and liked the taste.

Michael said nothing else, just nodded and glanced at Simon and me, and then back to Simon. ‘Well, I’ll be in touch about that lunch,’ he said, finally starting to walk away.

‘Dad,’ Simon began, stopping his father briefly. ‘I’m looking forward to catching up properly.’

Michael nodded but said nothing else as he headed up to the TV studios entrance. I watched him go, surprised by how little it rattled me.

A few weeks ago, that silence would have felt loaded with rejection or judgement. Now it felt like opportunity, a door ajar for me and Simon to walk through at will.

Michael Holland would be unlikely to offer an effortless relationship, but with conversation and pause – specifically for Simon to take it at his own pace – I could imagine a future where the three of us met for lunch, and a time where we, or just Simon and his dad, learned how to be in each other’s lives without forcing it. With or without me. Though I hoped beyond hope that it was with.

I waited for Michael to reach the stairs before wrapping an arm around Simon’s waist and kissing him again.