Page 16 of Christmas, Actually

‘Um.’ She wasn’t sure how much to share, so decided to just tell the truth. ‘He hasn’t messaged, no.’

He was like that, though. When Hudson got mad, he often wouldn’t speak for days. Which was why Clara usually capitulated within a few hours. She’d grown up with her father’s sour moods and knew saying sorry simply made life easier all around.

When she’d first met her fiancé, he’d never reminded her of her dad – he’d been kind and he hadn’t been critical at all – but over the past year similarities had begun to emerge. She’d put it down to stress – but now she wasn’t so sure.

She waited for Liam’s reaction, and the breath slowed in her throat as if freezing by degrees.

He stopped and spun around, his forehead creasing. He was still wearing his jolly Santa hat and it was an interesting contrast, seeing the irritation seep into his expression before he made it disappear. ‘What… nothing…?’ he asked, frowning.

‘Nope. Not a word.’ She shrugged. ‘I was expecting that, I guess. He’s angry with me.’

His mouth moved, but it took him a moment to form words. ‘Because you caught him kissing someone else?’ he asked slowly.

‘No, because I didn’t believe his explanation.’ Clara watched his face, realising she hadn’t really explained anything. ‘Hudson told me Abigail – that’s the woman’s name – that Abigail was kissing him but—’ She shut her eyes for a beat, seeing the moment play out in front of her again like the closing scene of a movie.

The kiss had been achingly romantic and it had broken her heart and she hadn’t got it wrong. Hudson had kissed Abigail – not the other way around. She sighed. ‘I know he’s not telling the truth. I know he’s lying, but he expects me to just give in and say I believe him because⁠—’

Again, she had to stop because the words that were forming in her throat felt wrong. Suddenly everything about her felt wrong. What had she been doing these last few years? Why had it taken her so long to see it – and why hadn’t she realised until she’d jumped on a plane and come to Hollythorpe? It was like her brain cells had begun to thaw out here.

‘Because?’ he repeated, taking a step closer. Liam was giving her his full attention, which was so genuinely sweet, so thoughtful – especially considering something had clearly upset him – that Clara almost felt guilty for talking about herself.

Not everything’s about you, Clara. Her mother’s voice boomed in her mind and she had to work hard to shove it away. She had to talk, had to explain because it might help her to figure out what she needed to do next.

‘Because I usually would – say I believed him I mean.’ The words gushed out. ‘But I can’t.’ She scrubbed a hand through her hair. It felt damp. She looked up – the snowflakes had grown thicker while they were talking. ‘Look, we can’t stay here,’ she said, shivering.

‘You’re right.’ Liam glanced around as if noticing the snow for the first time. ‘Not unless we want to end up looking like snowmen.’ The joke was weak, but it made Clara smile – especially since as he delivered the words, Liam’s lips curved too, making everything inside her body melt.

‘I’ve got keys to Eleanor’s place – we could go there?’ she suggested. ‘She probably won’t be back for a while.’ There would be lots of clearing up to do at the café – tidying Clara had been intending to help with. ‘We could text her and ask her to bring our coats when she returns – maybe she could bring Figgy too?’

‘Figgy!’ Liam’s eyes suddenly widened and his face paled again. His attention shot back up the pavement. ‘I can’t believe I forgot my dog.’ He tapped his palms on the pockets of the suit. ‘My car keys and the dog lead are in my coat.’ He turned and Clara wondered if he was going to retrace his steps. She could see the intention in his eyes, but then he stopped and shook his head. ‘I can’t go back there,’ he said roughly.

Clara nodded. She was going to get to the bottom of why. But she wasn’t going to do it here. She’d take Liam to Eleanor’s and feed him a glass of something – then she’d get him to confess all and see if she could help. She might have no idea what to do about her own heartache, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do something about his.

Eleanor’s flat was warm and Clara gratefully led Liam up the stairs and into the kitchen, brushing her palms against her dress, trying to dislodge the flurry of snowflakes she’d brought with her. She saw something scamper across the kitchen floor and almost shrieked; she would have if Liam hadn’t knelt down and scooped up Bugs, who’d somehow managed to sneak in.

‘I’ve no idea where he comes from,’ she said, glancing around. ‘Unless he’s managed to work out how to navigate the chimney in the front room.’ She was only half joking. She went to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, trying not to watch as Liam hugged the rabbit to his chest. He still looked pale, and he was shivering.

‘Want a glass of this?’ She held up the bottle. ‘It’s all there is I’m afraid, unless you want coffee or tea?’

‘No caffeine for me, just a small wine please. I have to drive later,’ he croaked, putting the rabbit on the ground and leaning back against the counter so he could watch her gather the glasses and pour some out. She handed him the drink, and studied his large hand which seemed to envelope the stem, drawing attention to how delicate it was and how incredibly masculine he was too. Her stomach fluttered and she took a step away.

‘Do you want to tell me why you ran?’ she asked, taking a sip of her drink and trying not to shudder. ‘I know you barely know me,’ she added quickly. ‘But sometimes it’s easier to share things with a stranger.’ At least that had been her experience with him.

He regarded her for a moment gripping his glass, his face still pale. ‘There’s not much to tell,’ he said after a long pause before letting out a sigh. ‘I guess there’s no point in hiding it. It’ll be all over Hollythorpe by tomorrow.’ He pursed his lips and took a quick sip of the wine before grimacing. ‘I hate white wine,’ he said, this time with humour.

She took another sip of her own and winced: it tasted like vinegar. ‘I don’t like it either, but I have it on good authority it helps loosen tongues and I thought we both needed some help in that department.’

His lips curved and this time Clara felt like cheering. Then the smile dropped. ‘My wife – my ex-wife – just walked into the café. I haven’t seen or heard from her for two and a half years. She moved away, I’ve no idea where to. It was a shock seeing her like that.’ He winced. ‘I probably should have stayed but⁠—’

‘I don’t see why,’ she shot back as anger rocketed through her; fury on his behalf. ‘You already told me she cheated on you. Then if she just left without a word…’

Which was unforgiveable in her opinion. Although the fact that Clara had just walked away from Hudson without a word wasn’t lost on her either. Was she a coward not to have stayed and explained?

‘And then she just turned up again like that, well…’ She swallowed the uncomfortable bubbles of emotion. She wasn’t entirely sure what Liam wanted to hear and was used to delivering exactly that, but she’d do her best. ‘I don’t know. She doesn’t really deserve anything from you, does she? You had every right to walk out just now – that way you get to have your first conversation on your own terms. Work out what you want to say.’

Was his wife here to win him back? The thought didn’t sit well with Clara. She didn’t know Liam that well, but it was obvious he deserved better than someone who’d cheated on him. Her stomach squeezed. She deserved better too.

‘Yes, that’s true.’ He nodded, his face darkening. ‘There is stuff we could talk about. But I’m not sure I’m ready to do that either. It was actually easier when she was gone. I thought it was going to be for good. I rebuilt my life without her. It wasn’t perfect, but…’ He sighed and sipped more of the wine, then pulled a face. Clara marvelled at how he could still look so perfect even when he was doing that. He set the glass on the counter. ‘You know, I prefer talking about your love life.’ He gave her a sad smile.