Page 113 of Last Christmas in London

The New Year midnight countdown had passed us by until eventually, needfully, we had returned to spread ourselves out on his sofa after midnight, wrapped in just a blanket, watching the fireworks and revellers singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ out of tune on playback on his laptop screen.

It was our way of letting the rest of the world back in.

‘You were my first ever midnight kiss,’ I told him.

‘What did you wish for?’ he asked, turning the channel to a rerun of When Harry Met Sally.

I hadn’t told him. But standing at the airport now, holding tightly onto Simon’s collar and imagining desperately what life would be like when January was over, I wanted him to know.

‘I wish I didn’t have to leave.’

‘It’s just a few weeks,’ he reiterated, and I snuggled into his neck, feeling secure in his grip as he wrapped his arms around me.

‘Will you be here when I get back?’

‘Four hours early,’ he said. ‘Just in case. I might even get a busking slot in for an excuse.’

I could see the cogs turning as he planned.

‘Knowing me, I’ll be four hours late, but I appreciate the anticipation.’ I grinned.

‘I’d find something to do,’ he insisted. ‘Maybe write a jingle or two?’

‘Maybe not perform those.’

He scoffed. ‘They pay the bills.’

‘Well, I can always help with that.’ I quickly pulled away, the sensible Evie coming out. ‘Much later. When we move in, if we move in! We don’t have to move in. Unless you want to. Maybe?’

It was like verbal diarrhoea.

‘A few days in heaven and she’s ready to move in with me.’

Simon was enjoying this a little too much. I rolled my eyes.

‘You know what I meant.’

He nodded, understanding. ‘January will fly by. December did, after all.’

‘And I packed a lot into December,’ I agreed, reminiscing about the igloo and the ice skating, as well as my lovely family Christmas. ‘I’m just going to Canada – to quit a job I haven’t even started. That’s normal, right?’

‘For you, Evie Frost, I’m pretty sure you re-invent normality on a day-to-day basis. But…’ Simon began, elongating the word and a seriousness cast over him. ‘I know this may not be the right time but I want you to know that, if you enjoy it, you can stay if you want to. I won’t be too upset.’

I smiled stiffly, moving a strand of his hair from his forehead as I considered his words. It was admirable of him to offer his support in such a way, but I knew that coming back to London was the right decision for me.

‘Trust me, given how many times I’ve been emailed by Elijah about these bloody TV treatments over Christmas, I’m not going to enjoy it.’

The emails had been getting shorter, yet the demands had increased in each. The sign-off from Elijah had stopped being best and was just his initial ‘E’. And as any office worker knows, that as close to saying ‘fuck you, bitch’ as is politely possible.

When I got a formal warning for slow performance, over Christmas and before my contract had even started, I knew I had made a very good decision to quit before I’d even started.

‘I’m coming home. To London. And to you,’ I promised.

Simon smirked and corrected my bag on my shoulder a little.

‘I’m quite glad to hear that.’

I leaned up for one final lingering kiss. ‘And I’m very glad to hear you say that.’ I stroked his stubble a few more times and eventually pulled away. ‘Right! I have to go or I’ll miss my flight.’