Page 123 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“You know, I have you to thank for that. If you hadn’t forced me to put up my decorations and Evaline hadn’t kept going on about self-love, I would have spent the whole day sulking in my bauble-barren apartment, eating dry instant noodles and hating Christmas.”
“A veritable Harriet Scrooge.”
“Exactly.”
“I suppose that makes me one of the ghosts of Christmas.”
“The ghost of pain in the bum,” she goaded.
He smiled but didn’t take his eyes off the snowy road.
“Was it nice to spend Christmas morning with Lyra?” she asked.
“It was. I dropped her at the hotel where Morgan is staying just before lunch.”
“You didn’t eat with them?”
“No, I had somewhere else to be, and as much as I respect Morgan, she is not the person that I wanted to spend my day with.”
He gave her a quick, meaningful glance that left her in no doubt that it washerthat he wanted to spend his day with, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the warm sensation as it flooded through her.
“Here?” she exclaimed as they pulled up outside the theater.
“Here,” he confirmed.
She couldn’t imagine why James would bring her to the theater on Christmas Day. The snow had lain thickly on the empty pavements of the town and banked up around the trunk of the Christmas tree, but as she walked up the path to the theater entrance, she noted that it had seen a lot of traffic; all kinds of footprints traveling up and down the path were freezing in place as the late-afternoon temperature dropped, ready for what promised to be another snowy night.
When she pushed open the doors she was hit with scents of fresh coriander, cinnamon, fried onions, and garlic. Despite her gigantic festive lunch, her stomach growled loudly. James eyed her stomach, smiling knowingly.
“It’s after five o’clock!” she said indignantly. “Dinner was four hours ago.”
She didn’t mention that dinner in its entirety had taken her two hours to consume.
“I didn’t say a thing.” He grinned. “Come on.”
He jogged up the stairs, and Harriet followed behind at a pace befitting a woman who had recently eaten her own weight in Christmas pudding.
As she neared the top of the staircase, she could hear voices coming from within the auditorium. She was briefly transported back to when she’d first ventured inside the theater in search of her truanting students.And look at the old girl now, she thought lovingly as she ran her hand up the newly varnished handrail and felt the bounce of thick carpet beneath her boots. She wasn’t sure if buildings had souls, but if they did, she felt connected to the Winter Theater’s. It had ceased to be merely bricks and mortar to her and had become a refuge, and a sanctuary to all those it welcomed through its doors.
“Are you ready?” James asked as they stood at the top of the staircase, outside the doors to the auditorium. He was smiling like someone who was very pleased with himself.
“I think so?” She frowned.
“Good.”
They pushed the doors open, and a wave of noise and aromas washed over her. Down below, the stage had been set with many trestle tables laid out in a large U formation, with chairs on both sides. A few seats were taken, but mostly people were zipping back and forth delivering trays piled mountainously high with food to the tables. Steam curled above smorgasbords of pastries, pakoras, falafel, sausage rolls, and that was just what Harriet could identify from her vantage point. Josef climbed onto the stage, and Billy rushed to take the enormous chocolate Yule log from him and laid it on thetable. Carly and Leo followed behind with two more plates. Everywhere she looked, she saw the brightly colored hijabs belonging to the women of Hesther’s refugee group as they chatted with friends and helped to ferry the trays of food.
“What. I. What is all this?” she finally managed to stammer.
“Merry Christmas, Harriet,” said James.
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you? Take a closer look.”
She reached the bottom of the stairs and walked slowly down the middle aisle, taking in the familiar—and some not so familiar—faces of the bustling crowd that was filling the tables with food and taking seats around them. The Lonely Farts Club was in full attendance, as were the Great Foss Players—Gideon leading the charge of filling glasses from a bottle with a homemade label. Grace was chatting with Tess and Arthur while Sid sat on her other side, his head resting on her shoulder, as he read from the open book on his lap.
Someone waved at Harriet from the stage, and she recognized Ricco’s parents, and with them Isabel’s mum and siblings. Carly and Isabel were herding a dozen or so little kids as they sprinted in and out of the wings. Farahnoush and Mallory pulled a Christmas cracker that made a loud pop, and everyone mingled with everyone.
