Page 30 of A Cornish Winter's Kiss

‘We had to invite you over, we’ve heard so much about you.’ Emily should have known that it would be her mother who was at most risk of embarrassing her, although she seemed to be determined to do a good job of it herself.

‘Of course I’m going to talk about Jude. This is the most interesting job I’ve ever been offered.’ Emily knew she was protesting too much, but she didn’t seem able to stop and she needed to take the focus off herself. ‘I told him that if he ever met the two of you, he wouldn’t be able to deny that true love existed.’

‘It must do, otherwise I’d have stabbed him through the eyeball with a fork years ago for snoring so loud it sounds like someone felling a tree with a chainsaw and, until very recently, never changing the toilet roll.’ Patsy smiled. ‘Whereas I’m an absolute breeze to live with.’

‘You are, Patz, you are.’ Emily’s dad winked. ‘What would I do without your freezing-cold feet on me in bed and the way you’ve always been able to somehow burn and undercook pasta all at the same time.’

‘I’m just glad you realise how lucky you are.’ Patsy leant into her husband, and he dropped a kiss on her head, making it obvious that teasing one another was just another sign of the affection between them. Emily wanted what they had one day, but they were a hard act to follow and she wasn’t prepared to settle for anything less.

‘Sit down, Jude, there’s no need to stand on ceremony for us.’ Richard gestured towards an armchair opposite her parents. ‘I hope you’re okay with pizza.’

‘Love it, but you really didn’t need to cook for me.’ Jude took a seat as he spoke.

‘I’d hardly call pizzas cooking, but Patz would never forgive me if a guest went away hungry.’

‘Jude bought chocolates and flowers.’ Emily held up the bag. ‘The roses are beautiful, so I’m going to put them in some water.’

She was gone less than five minutes, checking on both the pizzas and her makeup before she went back in. She told herself it was because the blast of hot air from the oven had made it feel as if the mascara had clumped her lashes together, but that didn’t explain the slick of lipstick, or the spritz of perfume she’d applied. Emily could hear the laughter coming down the hallway as she headed back from the kitchen.

‘I can’t believe you did that!’ Her mum’s eyes were shining in response to whatever it was they’d been laughing about, and Emily felt like someone watching an inside joke she didn’t understand. It made her feel left out and it was something else that mattered more than it should have done when it came to Jude.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘I just admitted to your mum and dad that I bought my first stepmother a sweatshirt that saidMerry Christmas You Filthy Animal.’ Jude grinned. ‘My dad said I had to get her something, and I knew she’d have no idea whatHome Alonewas. She thought I’d had it specially made and was completely outraged. Her reaction was the best gift I got that year.’

‘Jude’s going to stay and watch the movie with us.’ Her father’s statement was a fait accompli, and Jude looked as if he’d been one of the family for years. The worst thing was that a bigpart of her wished it was true, and that unchartered territory Jasmine had warned her about suddenly felt scarier than ever.

Jude hadn’t wanted to leave the cosy warmth of 10 Lowenna Close, and not because the temperature outside had plummeted well below freezing. The air caught in his throat, cold and sharp, making it hard to take a deep breath. Frost clung to the grass and settled in the cracks of the pavement, making it look, in the glow of the street lamps, as if someone had taken a giant pot of silver glitter and spread a blanket of it all over Port Agnes. Jude slipped on a patch of black ice as he crossed the road, heading back towards Puffin’s Rest. Thankfully the couple on the pavement opposite were too busy kissing to notice that he’d almost fallen over. Even as Jude tried to remind himself that he didn’t think that way, he could suddenly understand how a winter’s kiss in the glow of the moonlight might be considered romantic. It was time to get home before any other ridiculous notions entered his head.

Rufus might sulk for a little while when he arrived, making his displeasure about Jude’s prolonged absence clear. He’d promised the dog he wouldn’t be long, offering up the reassurance as if Rufus understood every word. Apparently dogs had no concept of time, but his faithful Labrador was more than capable of giving him the dirtiest of looks when he’d been out for too long. Although on a night like this, Rufus was far more likely to be sprawled out snoring, taking advantage of having the place to himself and no one to tell him to get off a sofa that didn’t belong to them. The trouble would come when Rufus picked up the scent of another dog on Jude. Gary Barlow had sat on his lap for almost the entire evening, claiming the spot before theopening credits ofHome Aloneand not moving again until Jude got up to leave.

Rufus would be very put out that he hadn’t been invited to spend the evening with his best friend. Although Jude suspected his dog would have been welcomed with open arms by Patsy and Richard had he turned up with Rufus in tow. They wouldn’t even have minded if he’d left big, muddy footprints down their hallway, or snagged a bit of pepperoni pizza when no one was looking. They were just those sorts of people, relaxed, and friendly and warm. Not to mention every bit as devoted to one another as Emily had said. That was the real reason he didn’t want to leave 10 Lowenna Close. Being inside their home was what it felt like to be in the heart of a real family, with private jokes and a kind of shorthand that meant speaking to one another often didn’t require full sentences, or sometimes even words. He might have assumed that Emily had no idea how lucky she was, except that they’d had the kind of in-depth conversations that proved she did. No one was left out; the WhatsApp messages flying between Charlotte in Exeter and her family in Port Kara meant she might as well have been in the room. He understood for the first time how easy it must be for someone like Emily to believe in love, and maybe she was right. Maybe there were families like this all over the place, who chose to spend time together just because they wanted to, not because there was some kind of obligation or transaction taking place between them. Maybe Jude even had a family like this somewhere, one with a space on the sofa, waiting for him to fill it.

Now you really are being an idiot.Jude shook his head. Romanticising a reunion with his biological family was a dangerous game. In the very best scenario it would live up to expectations, but it was far more likely to fall significantly short of the ideal he was picturing. Life had taught him that it wasbetter to have no expectations and to assume the worst, because it was far harder to end up disappointed that way. Perhaps if his mother hadn’t died, they’d have had their own version of what Emily and her family had. He couldn’t imagine his father ever being the warm-hearted patriarch that Richard was, but he could picture his mother laughing atHome Aloneand telling him she loved him, the way Emily’s mother had done so casually when her daughter had brought in her favourite lemon cheesecake. Jude wasn’t sure if his father had ever told him he loved him. If he had, Jude certainly couldn’t recall it. Maybe that explained a lot about his views on love. If he’d asked his father whether he loved him, he’d almost certainly have got a response along lines of ‘of course I do’. But that would have been transactional; Charles would have said it because Jude was his son and that meant he had a duty to love him, not because he couldn’t stop the words from bursting out of him.

There was a sense of duty nagging at Jude too. He needed to tell his father that he’d put his name on the adoption contact register. He should visit and have that conversation face to face, he knew that, but he also knew he didn’t want to. For a moment he considered just texting it, but then another memory of his mother suddenly popped into his head.

‘Never take the coward’s way out, Jude, even when that feels easier. It’s the difficult conversations that teach you the most.’ He’d been ten when she’d told him that, the summer before she’d died. He’d kicked a football far too enthusiastically and it had sailed over their fence and smashed through a pane of glass on their neighbour’s greenhouse. Jude had begged his mother to be the one to go and tell Mr and Mrs Pike what had happened, or failing that to be allowed to leave a note, but she’d urged him to do the right thing and speak to them himself. He’d been terrified, but their neighbours had praised his honesty and had told him they were planning to replace the greenhouse soonanyway, and that Mr Pike could patch it for now. There’d been no negative repercussions, but having to face that situation had still made Jude far more careful about where he kicked his football in future. As always, his mother had been right. She’d almost certainly have wanted him to go and see his father face to face, but he was just as sure she’d have preferred him to phone Charles rather than text him with the news.

Jude looked at his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. He should wait until the morning really, but suddenly he didn’t want to. As tempting as it was just to call, he didn’t want to wake his father or Viv, or make them worry that something serious might be wrong. Standing under the light of a streetlamp, he texted his father a short message.

Are you still awake? Just need to call you about something, but it’s nothing to worry about.

As Jude pressed send it crossed his mind that he wasn’t sure what would worry his father when it came to him. Would he be horribly upset if something happened to his only son, or would he shrug in that resigned way of his and carry on with a life that didn’t involve his son in any significant way?

Still awake, I’m staying up for Newsnight.

That summed it up. Richard and Patsy wereHome Alonepeople, and his father’s idea of festive viewing wasNewsnight. It was probably more worthy, but it sure wasn’t a lot of fun, and it was the way Charles had always been. Jude texted his father again.

I’ll call you now then, it won’t take long, you won’t miss Newsnight.

He sent the message via WhatsApp and waited until the two blue ticks appeared before calling his father.

‘Hi, Dad.’

‘Hello, Jude.’

‘How are you?’

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