Page 87 of Kiss Me at Christmas
Her mouth worked a small smile.
He kept hold of her hands.
“Well, now you know. I’m not the ‘disruptor’ that you think I am. I’m like you, just trying to do better,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t know, you’ve managed to completely disrupt my life.” He gave her a crooked smile. “And every day I’m gladder about it.”
“Your charm will be my undoing.”
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“I’ll give a tentative yes.” She smiled at him.
“I’ll take that. I was going out of my mind worrying that I’d blown things with you. I hardly slept last night, just kept going over and over it in my head. The look on your face when you thought I…well, I don’t exactly know what you thought, but it was bad. Your expression damn near broke me. I don’t ever want to be the cause of that expression again.”
“And I will try not to be quite such a hostage to my phone. You’re right, it has become an obsession. It started with my work, but over time it’s bled out into every area of my life. I need to work on that.”
He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I’m sorry I was harsh. I understand now where your need to be available comes from and I appreciate your willingness to try and put your phone aside for us.”
They ate their breakfast together in the noisy café, the pastries that Harriet hadn’t shredded, at least. Something had shifted between them, like a sky left clear and bright after a storm has wrung itself out. Last night she wasn’t sure that there was a way back for them and yet here they were, in a better place than they had begun.
Twenty-three
It had been a weekand a day since the Great Foss Players joined the production and despite the inevitable teething problems, they were beginning to feel like a cohesive team. The famous five had managed to switch shifts at their various weekend jobs so that the cast could have their first full run-through. Harriet and James sat at the end of a row near the middle of the stalls as the actors onstage ran their lines. Although everyone still hugged their scripts tightly, they were relying on them a little less each day. Gideon stood in the central aisle, a clipboard hugged to his chest, shouting helpful things: “More projection, Ahmed!” “Sid, imagine you are speaking to the person in the very back row.” “Eye contact, Isabel!”
Outside, the town was heaving as the first Saturday in December sparked a frenzied countdown to Christmas, but inside the theater the atmosphere was determinedly calm. On the stage, Ahmed as Ebenezer Scrooge was tearing a strip off Ricco, his nephew, and Gideon was in raptures.
Billy appeared beside Harriet. “Miss, have you seen Grace this morning?”
“Grace? Um, no, I don’t think so. Why?”
He bit his lip.
“I can’t find her.”
“Why do you need her?”
“I’ve got a book for her. It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter, the point is she’s not here.”
“Maybe she’s coming in later today?”
“She wouldn’t miss a rehearsal,” Billy pressed.
“Well, ask Gideon. She might have called in sick.”
Billy grimaced and went over to Gideon.
If she was honest, Harriet didn’t pay much attention to the older players’ whereabouts; her ducks consisted of the famous five and Sid, and she made sure she kept them in a row at all times. But his concern made her wonder. Last night, when Grace was struggling to get the top off her thermos, Billy had crossed the stage to loosen it for her. And when Billy had forgotten his lines in the kitchen scene with Isabel, Grace had discreetly acted as his prompter. Small acts which showed the other they were seen. If anyone were to notice Grace’s absence, it would be Billy.
Gideon clapped his hands loudly.
“Okay, everybody, good work. Let’s take five and then regroup for Act One, Scene Seven. Now has anybody heard from Grace today? Billy has alerted me to her absence.”
There were mumbles on the stage as people looked about them, only just now realizing that Grace wasn’t with them.
“Does anyone have her mobile number?” Billy called out. Mutters in the negative and shaking heads were his answer.
“I do!” Mallory piped up. “As secretary and treasurer, I have everyone’s details on file.”
