Page 59 of Last Christmas in London

‘Hibernate?’ I laughed.

‘Like a bear.’

‘You? A bear?’ I almost snorted and I noticed he squeezed my hand this time and my stomach dropped to my knees. I was walking hand in hand, in my favourite city at Christmas with a man I – I’ll admit – was obsessively attracted to. This was a new feeling. I was not used to anything romantic, and this definitely entered that category. ‘I was thinking of you more like a squirrel – always darting around, playing music, charming unsuspecting strangers.’

‘I feel there’s a nut analogy coming, and I’m not sure I’m going to like it.’

I snorted noisily and the jolt made us both stop, crashing into others as we laughed.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Simon explained in charming fashion to unsuspecting strangers who laughed, somehow knowingly. He retook my hand and pulled me back into the street.

‘Have you guessed where we’re going yet?’ he chuckled, shaking his head as we stopped at a zebra crossing. ‘It’s unlike you not to interrogate me.’

‘Oh, isn’t it?’ I teased, acutely aware that we were still holding hands. Were we just… not addressing this? Did handholding come with mulled wine and moonlit strolls, like some unspoken festive rule? Was this normal? How was I supposed to know? The last people I’d held hands with for this long were Josh and Megan – and only because, when drunk, I tended to fall over without physical intervention. ‘I feel like a surprise,’ I replied as he crossed the road and headed towards the North Bank.

‘How much of that mulled wine did you have?’ he asked, pointing with his spare hand to the flask I was still holding.

‘Not as much as I wanted,’ I admitted.

‘Well, hold off on drinking any more.’ His smirk grew wider. ‘You won’t want to be unsteady on your feet where we’re headed.’

‘You do remember how we met,’ I pointed out. ‘I’m not steady on my feet when I’m stone-cold sober, let alone with a quart of mulled wine in me.’

He shrugged. ‘I’ve got you.’ He gave my fingers another squeeze, sending my heart somersaulting into my ribcage. Everything in me seemed to become cinched and my breath caught in my chest. What was this feeling? Bloody gorgeous was what it was.

Suddenly, he stopped, and I – being my usual graceful self – crashed straight into him.

‘See?’ I yelped, giggling but feeling like I had just proved my own point by bruising my nose against his shoulder. ‘Exhibit A.’

‘Look up,’ he replied simply.

‘Here?’ At a crossroads and traffic junction.

‘Well, almost. That building in front of us.’ He pointed and I looked up. Somerset House.

‘Oh.’ My breath hitched in realisation.

‘What was one of the things on your list again?’ he asked knowingly.

‘Ice skating!’ I squeaked. ‘We’re going ice skating!’

He nodded as the green pedestrian light flickered on, and we dashed towards the entrance like kids on Christmas morning.

The gates were open, and a few shoppers and viewers strolled out, arm in arm or laden with shopping bags from the mini Christmas market inside. The ice rink shimmered under the glow of fairy lights, a few last-minute skaters gliding across the near-empty surface.

I was tempted to get my phone and start TikToking for my Assistmas series, but I didn’t want Simon’s surprise to fill a slot on my social channels. I wanted it to be something that he and I did. Together, and unshared.

‘Don’t you have to book?’ I asked Simon as we got closer. The ticket booth appeared to be shut. Clearly, they were wrapping down for the night. Maybe this wasn’t going to be the perfect surprise after all.

‘Wait here,’ Simon said, releasing my hand and walking away. The sudden feeling of cool night air over my previously warm palm shocked me back to my senses. A late-night stroll with Simon after carols and mulled wine was still a decent evening, even if a surprise skate would have just made this the most perfect of moments. Possibly the perfect moment.

I wrapped my arms around myself and my sparkly jumper with an embroidered snowflake in the centre. One of my own creations from my last Christmas with Pim, in Malta. I had been craving snow and a little bit of magic, and a hand-sewn snowflake was as close as I could get.

‘Evie!’ Simon called from the nearby booth. He was talking to a man in an oversized black puffer jacket and baseball cap. I wandered over, still hugging my arms around myself. ‘We’re in! We’ve got thirty minutes.’

‘What?’ I gasped, as the man in the puffer jacket offered me a pair of skates.

‘Guessing you’re a five?’ he said, handing them to me.