Page 34 of The Christmas Letter

The latter, she definitely wanted it to be the latter.

Outside, the cold, biting air was a relief, cooling her insides and offering some sanity from all the sexy lighting and seductive music. Their breath misted out in front of them under the streetlamps, and where she’d felt overheated a minute ago, her hands immediately felt freezing as she shoved them in her pockets. Surely it couldn’t stay this cold for long – wasn’t it supposed to be spring? Though in all honesty, she was never quite sure where the line between winter and spring actually was.

Jack and Holly turned to face each other at the same time. Now. She should tell him now and get it over with, come what may.

‘If I give you my number again, will you call me this time?’ Jack teased her lightly, with a smile in the corner of his mouth.

‘I lost it,’ Holly said quietly. ‘The cup with your number.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

‘I did!’

‘That’s what they all say.’

‘All the girls you chat up in coffee shops?’

‘Who says I was chatting you up? You must have misinterpreted.’

She laughed, hit him lightly on the arm. So quickly she barely noticed, he caught her hand, his thumb grazing the inside of her wrist, where her pulse responded. ‘Will you?’

‘Will I what?’ she repeated dumbly.

‘Call me.’

‘Oh. Well, yes, I suppose, but I . . . Jack, I live in Windsor.’ I live in Windsor – and I’m friends with your grandmother. You know, the one you won’t talk to?

He frowned, still not letting go of her hand. ‘How long are you in London for?’

‘Until Monday.’ It was half term next week, so she was sending the kids off in the morning with Abi and staying for a long weekend but a few days in London was more than enough for her. Especially as she was aware of how close she was to her family. Her parents lived on the outskirts of London, and Lily . . . Well, she was pretty sure Lily still lived in west London somewhere.

‘Tomorrow, then?’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Jesus, Holly, you don’t half make it hard,’ he said, his face lighting up with laughter.

She let out a huff of laughter to match his. ‘Sorry, I’m not usually this dense.’ But it was becoming hard to concentrate, because all of her awareness was zoning in on his thumb, resting lightly against her wrist, and that forest scent of his was wrapping around her, and what she’d really like to do is step into him, tilt her head up and . . . She took a breath, stepped safely out of reach. He let her go, dropping her hand. ‘I’m doing a kind of art gallery tour tomorrow – going to different ones in the morning and afternoon.’ Art galleries that your grandmother – who has cancer, by the way – recommended.

‘Ah, right. A good way to spend a weekend, I reckon.’

‘You could come?’ The words were out before she could think better of them. ‘Unless it’d be too boring,’ she added quickly.

Something that could have been relief flashed across Jack’s face, though his tone was still light, easy. ‘Nah, I like art. I’m not an expert or anything, but it was kind of part of my childhood in a way. Enough that I think a day trip to a few galleries sounds grand.’

‘Who got you interested? Your parents?’ Come on, she thought to herself. Say her name. Because she knew who must have given him an art education as a child – whether he’d liked it or not.

‘No.’ The hesitation was so brief, she might not have noticed it, had she not been looking for it. ‘No, my grandmother – she was big into art.’

Say it, Holly. Tell him. Ask him what happened between them. She was holding her breath, her heart picking up speed as she tried to work out a way to broach the topic. But before she could get any words out, he smiled at her.

‘So, tomorrow?’ And just like that, the moment was gone.

She let out her breath on a whoosh. ‘Shall I meet you there?’

She got out her phone, brought up a new contact – nearly adding his surname before she realised she shouldn’t yet know it – and handed it to him.

‘I can’t lose it this way.’ She contemplated that as he typed. ‘Well, knowing me I could, because I could lose the phone or something – but I’ll do my best not to.’ Her eyes met his as they flicked up from her phone, his crinkling at the corners from his smile.