Page 23 of Always, in December

‘Well, yes, I considered that, but I called them to ask and they said he hasn’t worked there in two months.’ She let that hang for a moment.

‘Two months?’ Josie repeated, frowning. So he’d lied to Helen about where he worked? That was strange. Or was it? Maybe she was just letting Helen get to her.

‘Yes,’ Helen said, leaning towards the screen and dropping her voice like she was in on a conspiracy. ‘And they wouldn’t tell me why he left. I did ask.’

‘It might not mean anything drastic, Helen.’

‘Hmm. Well yes, maybe.’

‘Why did you even go looking?’

‘Because I’m worried about you, darling! You show up with a new man right after you break up with that lovely Oliver’ – Josie gritted her teeth at that – ‘and you look all flustered. I just don’t want someone to swoop in and take advantage, that’s all. I saw a dreadful article online the other day about a man who took everything from a young man right in the dead of night – he’d created a false identity and everything.’ Josie allowed herself a small, wry smile. She knew why her aunt kept it vague with the ‘online’ – she was the type of person who pretended to read the Guardian, but in reality got everything from the Mail.

‘Look, I appreciate you worrying about me, honestly I do.’ The doorbell rang, and Josie’s heart did a semi-painful jump. She stood up, taking the laptop with her, and started walking towards the door, dropping her voice slightly. ‘But I don’t think it’s anything like that. I’m being careful, I promise.’

‘Well, just have it in mind, won’t you?’

‘Fine, sure,’ Josie said, knowing that agreement was the only way to stop her going on about it. ‘But right now, there’s someone at the door and I’m already running late, so I’ve got to go, sorry. Say goodbye to Memo and Grandad, won’t you?’

‘Bye, my love!’ Memo called from the living room. ‘And your grandad says bye too.’

‘I can speak for myself, Cecelia,’ she heard her granddad grumble distantly. Josie shook her head. She’d bet anything they’d both been listening to every word Helen said, and no doubt the three of them would be gossiping about it for the rest of the evening.

‘Well, alright, bye then, darling. Have a wonderful time tonight,’ Helen said.

‘I’m sure I will,’ lied Josie, now right by the front door, her bare feet making the lino floor creak ever so slightly. She shut the laptop screen, tucking it under her arm, then took a breath, willing her heart to calm down.

She opened the door to see Max standing there, wearing dark jeans, a blue shirt and a sleek, well-cut black jacket, his coat over his arm, even though it was bloody freezing outside. He looked incredible, his muscular body filling out his jacket perfectly, and she only realised she was staring when he smiled at her, the smile reaching up to warm those eyes which seemed to shift colour constantly, more amber now to match the lighter bits of his hair. His gaze travelled up and down the length of her body in a way that made her skin beat, before resting on her eyes.

‘Hi,’ Josie said, wishing her stomach would calm down. She shouldn’t feel this nervous. It was just Helen – she’d thrown her, that was all.

He leaned against the doorframe and ran one hand over the stubble on his jaw. ‘Hey,’ he said easily, whatever had soured his mood yesterday clearly a thing of the past. ‘Ready?’

‘I, err . . .’ She brought a hand to her hair but dropped it, remembering not to mess it up after she’d spent so long taming it. ‘Yes, in a minute. I wasn’t sure . . .’ She trailed off, but he got her meaning anyway.

‘If I was coming? I wouldn’t abandon you like that,’ he said, with a casual shrug. ‘Besides, it was my idea in the first place.’

‘Right,’ she said, for some reason hyperaware of the fact she was barefoot. ‘I’ll just grab my shoes, give me a sec.’ He nodded and stepped inside so she could shut the door on the draught from the corridor. So what if he’d lied about where he worked? she thought. Maybe he’d been fired or something and didn’t want to admit it in front of Helen – she wasn’t exactly the type of person you immediately wanted to open up to. She put her laptop back, grabbed her heels and sat on her bed to slip them on, then checked the mirror one last time before picking up her bag and heading back out to meet him. She didn’t really know much about him, though, and here she was, letting him into her house. She bit her lip. No. She couldn’t let Helen get to her, even if she did mean well.

Max straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the door when she came back into the hallway. God, should she have told him to sit down or something? She offered him an overly bright smile in some effort to compensate, feeling incredibly self-conscious as her heels clicked on the floor, like she’d for some reason suddenly forgotten how to walk in them. And it was like he bloody knew that, the way his gaze dropped to her shoes, lingered on her legs.

His eyes sparked when she reached him. ‘I got you a present,’ he said, producing a box from his pocket and holding it out to her. His brows pulled together slightly when she didn’t immediately take it.

Her stomach did a small somersault. ‘You didn’t have to do that!’ She wasn’t sure where to look, now that he was looking right at her.

‘Here,’ he said, a little aggressively. He thrust it into her hands.

She opened it, feeling incredibly self-conscious and trying to arrange her face into a suitable expression. When she saw what was inside, she stared mutely for a moment, then picked one up to examine it. The earrings. The big, dangly star earrings she’d pointed out at Fortnum’s. She shook her head – she remembered the price tag on these. ‘I can’t . . . I mean, these are amazing, but I can’t accept this, it’s too much.’

He shrugged, and that little frown returned. ‘Well, either you have them or I’ll have to get my ears pierced – there’s a no-return policy on earrings.’ She bit her lip. He sighed. ‘If you won’t take a Christmas present, then consider it a thank you.’ She met his gaze, and it was almost like he was staring her out, daring her to refuse. But when he spoke, his voice was soft. ‘If it weren’t for you, I would have just been sat around moping these last few days.’

She hesitated, but, at his encouraging nod, took the earrings out of the box and replaced her studs with them. She touched one of them. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘They’re beautiful.’

He reached out and traced a finger along her earlobe, down the sparkling earring. ‘They might not shine as brightly as you, but at least they’re pretty.’ For a moment, he held her gaze, and even though his touch was light, Josie found herself flushing. She looked down quickly, but when he held the door open for her, she touched the place on her ear where his fingers had been, her skin still tingling.

It was just a short train ride from Josie’s flat to Battersea, where the party was, so they arrived at the venue promptly at six p.m., right on time. It was being held at Battersea Arts Centre, a grand, impressive building from the outside, with mini turrets out of the roof giving the impression of a small castle. There were two Christmas trees either side of the pillared entrance, decorated simply in silver and gold, and there were fairy lights just below the archway. Josie smiled at Max as he opened the door for her, trying to control the squirming in her stomach that had only got worse on the journey over here.

A man, dressed smartly in a black suit, smiled at them as they arrived. ‘The Peacock’s party?’ Josie nodded. ‘Please check your coats just here, then you’re in the Grand Hall.’ The man indicated where he meant.