Page 57 of His Until Christmas

“I am now. Happy, I mean.”

I don’t know how things will work out, but I do want every single happy ending in my future to feature Reece Trelawney.

This is tougher to get out. “But I need to know that you are too. Happy, I mean.” I point out landmarks on that fabric. “Because I’ve taken photos of these all on my own each Christmas since I came to London. It’s so much better doing that with two people.” I reach for her hand and take it. “So how about we figure out a way to see the same sights together?”

“You and me, in London?”

I nod. “You and me, by next Christmas.”

Arthur harrumphs. “And I visit the city each December. It would be my pleasure to escort both of you.”

Good grief, I could kiss him. I settle for saying, “We could make a plan, like you used to for formal parties. If we worked on a template, we could take it one step at a time together?”

My phone pings.

Reece.

I lurch like I did on the train, getting up in such a hurry the candlesticks wobble. Arthur catches them before they can fall. On my way out, I hear him ask, “Of course, you must have planned plenty of parties as a housekeeper. Maybe you could help me?”

I close the hallway door and my heart lurches again at a message going against all of our old text-based rules. Reece breaks them for me.

Reece:Been thinking about you.

Reece:Can’t stop, to be honest xxx

I haven’t stopped thinking about him either. He types another message before I can tell him.

Reece:Hope you aren’t worrying about choosing your own direction.

I’m not worried. I’ve already chosen. It’s towards him.

Reece:Got to head out again now. Then I’ll go see Mum. Call you after?

I nod as if he can see me, then I type quickly.

Jack:Yes.

I follow up with three little words that feel vital.

Jack: Please don’t capsize.

A few extra letters feel true as soon as I type them.

Jack: ily

Arthur is still talking when I rejoin them. I’m grateful he’s kept Gran too busy to worry about my London suggestion. She’s focussed on him, and for a usually gruff man, his questions are gentle. “If you were organising a dinner with a duke at short notice, how would you make the evening special?”

“A dinnerwitha duke?”

“Yes. For some new American friends of the foundation.” He eyes me, sea-glass stare a touch sharper, which is his version of issuing a challenge. I know, because Rex did the same when heraised a glass at Penny’s restaurant and told me I was all Reece’s. He wasn’t wrong about that. Now Arthur is just as accurate in stating, “Because there’s a very strong chance we could raise some extra money for little ones who don’t have much if we can set up something quickly. Maybe between now and the new year?”

I nod, already fishing out my phone, where contact details wait for thank-you letters, and Arthur admits, “It’s been years since Kara-Enys saw anything more than a small family celebration. My dear wife dealt with anything fancy, God rest her. I wouldn’t have the first idea where to get started.”

Gran repeats what I told Reece at the start of our one week together. She counts off priorities on her fingers. “I’d start with the four pillars of entertaining: location, guest list, menu, and decorations.”

Arthur harrumphs again. “I’ve got the location, and Jack has a guest list.”

“I could help you with menu planning,” Gran offers. “That only leaves decoration.” She grabs her handbag to gather everything that used to spell Christmas could get started, her eyes shining and not for any old, sad reasons. Out comes her pencil case and a planning notepad. She opens it to a clean page, smoothing the paper before lining up pens and pencils in length and colour order.Very satisfying.

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