Page 100 of The Christmas Letter

‘If you need some time, to figure some things out, then that’s fine.’

‘Yes, I— Wait. Time?’

‘Yes. It’s unfair, to expect you to be on my timeline. There were things I needed to figure out, after Venice, so it’s only right that you get the chance to do the same. And if it’s never the right time for you, that’s ok too. I don’t want you to feel any pressure or expectation – just know that I’m here if you need me.’

She frowned at him, not really sure what to say.

He stood, kissed the top of her head, a friendly, easy gesture. ‘I think you should talk to Lily. For what it’s worth.’

Her frown increased, and she opened her mouth to say something, to argue back automatically.

He laughed at her expression. ‘I’m not saying you have to. I’m only doing what you did, to me.’

There was too much truth in that to properly argue, so she wrinkled her nose.

‘But if and when you are ready, Holly, I’ll be here. Ok?’

Her heart was beating fast as he turned away from her and walked into the ensuite shower room. Right. His room. It was his room – she was the one who needed to leave.

‘And by the way,’ he added, almost conversationally, glancing back at her over his shoulder. ‘I do know you.’

‘Huh?’

‘You said we barely knew each other, but I do know you. I know the way you fall even when there is nothing to trip over. I know how you hate brushing your hair more than I thought anyone could hate something as minor as that. I know how you light up when you talk about teaching, even if you’ve convinced yourself it was a backup career, and how you have something more, this kind of glow, when you’re thinking about sculpting something. I know you speak without thinking sometimes, but that even when you’re angry, you have kindness there.’ He smiled, a little sadly. ‘I know how you are still hurting, from what happened to your sister. I know you are scared, to really let someone in. But I also know you’ve already done it – with Emma – because I see the way you are with her. And I know you can do that again, with someone else. If you want to.’

Holly was holding her breath, unable to look away from his dark gaze.

‘I know all of that and more. And I love it all, Holly.’

And with that, he shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving her to get slowly to her feet. Her body was trembling, her heart stuttering. But what could she do? She wanted to cry, to open the door to the bathroom and run to him, let his arms come around her, breathe in the scent of him. But her reasoning stood. So she walked carefully to the bedroom door to let herself out. And she only paused for a second before she closed the door behind her.

December

Chapter Thirty-two

Holly checked her phone for the millionth time, shifting in the booth as she did so. Less than a minute since she’d last checked – the phone still said 5:53. And Lily wasn’t due until six. She’d got to the pub that Lily had suggested at five forty-five, figuring it was better to be there early, so that she could see her sister arrive and wouldn’t have to do that awkward, uncertain scan of the room if she arrived second. But now, that seemed like a bad idea – because now she was here, worrying that Lily wouldn’t show, having already drunk the glass of sauvignon she’d ordered.

Holly knew this area well, having lived here as a teenager, and she recognised this pub, though it had been under a different name when she’d been here – a different name, and a much grubbier feel. Now, it had all the charm of an English country pub, right in the middle of Hammersmith. Low wooden beams, slate floors and rustic, mismatched tables. It was decorated for Christmas – next to the crackling fire, there was a tree in the corner, with presumably fake wrapped presents under it. Instead of flowers there were Christmas wreaths on each table, and green tinsel and golden bells were decorating the wooden bar. Candles flickered on the windowsills by the entrance, threatening to go out each time someone walked in and brought a rush of cold air, and there was the smell of mulled wine lingering in the air.

Holly checked the time again. Five fifty-four.

It had taken them a bit of time to find a date to meet. They had both been so busy, and wanted to wait until they had a chance to speak without feeling stressed or distracted. So they’d settled on meeting in December, on a weekday, after Holly’s school broke up for Christmas. December the twenty-third – the day before Christmas Eve. Holly’s mum had clearly got wind of it – Holly had received a text from her, asking Holly to come round and say hello afterwards. She imagined it was only thanks to her dad that her mum wasn’t here now, sitting at a nearby table and watching to see what happened when her two daughters saw each other for the first time in four years.

Holly looked up at the next rush of cold wind. Her heart gave a painful thud.

She looked exactly the same. She’d seen photos of her on Facebook, but it was different, in real life. She was wearing jeans and a blue polo neck with little threads of silver, a nod to the festive season.

Holly stood up, a little clumsily, her palms clammy.

Lily saw Holly and smiled – though it looked a bit strained. She crossed the pub, stepping around the queue at the bar. When she made it to Holly’s table, the two of them just looked at each other.

Holly had the sudden urge to cry. Should they hug? It felt too awkward to hug. Should she say something? What should she say?

Lily put her handbag down on the chair opposite Holly – the moment for hugging now gone. Then she looked at Holly, her hazel eyes overly bright. ‘I’ll get us drinks, yes?’

‘I can get—’

‘Don’t be silly, I’m already up.’ So was Holly, but maybe Lily needed a beat. ‘They do a great mulled wine here, if you fancy?’