Page 106 of It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas
‘Long story.’
‘I want to hear all of it. Talk later, yeah?’
This was all actually happening, wasn’t it? I could feel hope fizzing underneath my skin. It’d been a long time bloody coming.
I walked him to his car and we kissed a drizzle-dappled kiss before he climbed in. He wound down the window before he drove off.
‘Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re going to roar again?’ I asked, though I wouldn’t have minded at all if he had.
‘Ha, no. But there was one thing I forgot to give you.’
‘Oh?’
He leant over to the glove compartment and extracted an ancient ball of once-orange fluff with two wonky eyes attached.
I gasped with delight. ‘Marmalade!’
Tom passed his precious childhood comforter to me through the window.
‘Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap him, but I thought he could keep you company?’
‘You’re sure?’
‘So sure. You know where to put him, right?’
I nodded. ‘Of course.’
We kissed briefly once more. As he drove off, I carried Marmalade back into the warmth and stood in the communal hallway for a while. I hadn’t even cleaned my teeth yet – I’d never imagined the most gut-wrenchingly romantic moment of my life would be infused with the stale flavour of Night Nurse.
This was what falling in love felt like, then. Knowing these thoughts and urges of mine flowed both ways without any shadow of a doubt. Knowing he’d never leave me hanging on two blue ticks. Knowing he’d already seen – and mopped up – the most dissolvable parts of me.
I sighed a happy sigh as I headed back inside.
I carried Marmalade into the living room and squeezed him onto the glowing branches of my tiny Christmas tree. At this angle, he seemed to be looking over my shoulder. I turned to follow his gaze and caught sight of the London snow globe on the mantelpiece. I lifted the glass orb off the shelf and carried it to the sofa with care, using a corner of my dressing gown to remove the thick layer of dust. The water was clearer than I remembered, the glitter flakes more iridescent. I turned its crank, gave it a good shake and placed it on the coffee table. As the music played, my mind began to swirl with everything that had changed in such a short space of time. All the truths that had been spoken – by me, and to me. There was one line in particular that kept repeating on a loop – something that Elle had said to me a couple of nights ago: ‘You wait for things to happen to you, instead of making things happen for yourself.’
And then it all clicked.
My Christmas was about to be safe. But itcouldbe incredible.
Why in the hell had I said no to Tom about going back to Scarnbrook with him? It was almost as if I was denying myself a piece of guaranteed joy in favour of…what, exactly? More wallowing and solitary overthinking? What was I hoping to achieve by staying here by myself?
The safety of predictability.
I sat upright quickly – too quickly – lightheaded thanks to my empty stomach.
Just go to him, Mally!
I’m not sure if it was my voice, or Livvie’s, that was screaming inside my skull. But, whoever it was, I loved them – and knew they were right.
Chapter 29
?New year ahead, new life ahead
Two hours later I was dressed, packed – if sweeping whatever clothesand Christmas gifts happened to be within grabbing distance into mysuitcase counted as ‘packing’ – and driving an unfamiliar Zipcar backtowards Scarnbrook. Marmalade was on the passenger seat, making theopposite journey to the one he’d made in the middle of the night. He wascertainly clocking up the miles today.
I hadn’t told Tom I’d changed my mind; I knew he’d probably insist on coming back and collecting me. But it felt important to do this by myself.
Pulling off the M4 for the final stretch of the journey, I yelped with delight as ‘Driving Home for Christmas’ by Chris Rea came on the radio. If this were the final scene of a made-for-TV Christmas movie, it would absolutely be the most appropriate track imaginable for this climactic romantic scene. Although they probably wouldn’t be able to afford the rights to such a recognisable song.
