Page 73 of Twilight at Croftwood Library
‘That’s all that’s on? On all those six pages of today’s listings?’
‘No, it’s Christmas Eve which means there are three, maybe four days more to watch Christmas movies before the Christmas spirit disappears and then they’ll just make you sad. By a process of elimination, those are the two we have on offer this afternoon. Luckily, we can watch them both on catch-up so either way we’re okay.’
This was exactly the kind of Christmas he wanted. He had such a full-on life with the coffee house and the cinema, that Christmas was almost the only real break he had all year. It would have been fine at Amy’s parents but he’d have had to make an effort all the time and being with Amy at the moment was enough of an effort all by itself let alone having to make sure they could get through three or four days with no disagreements in front of her parents.
He sat down in the armchair next to the fire and poked it to bring it back to life.
‘Okay if I put my stuff upstairs?’ he asked.
‘Sorry, yes. Let me show you.’
The spare room looked onto the small courtyard garden which was covered in a perfect blanket of snow. It had a double bed, a bedside table with a quirky-looking table lamp on it, and a huge chest of drawers.
‘There’s no room in the drawers,’ called Lois from the landing where she was rummaging in the airing cupboard for some sheets. ‘Sorry, they’ve got all my sewing stuff in there.’
‘No problem. I’m happy to live out of my bag.’
In silence, they made the bed together. Oliver tried to catch her eye, but she was steadfastly not looking at him for some reason. Was it too intimate making a bed together? Maybe. He’d never made a bed with anyone but Amy.
‘I think we should watchElf,’ she said as she left the room.
It seemed so natural to be in Lois’s house, as easy as their relationship had become before he’d ruined it by telling her that Amy was cheesed off. Why he’d done that he had no idea now. It wasn’t Lois’s problem, he’d just panicked. But the fact that he was here, about to watch his favourite Christmas film with Lois in the most Christmassy house he could imagine, meant that at least she wasn’t avoiding him anymore. That would do.
He changed into some suitably festive flannel tartan pyjama trousers and a soft black jumper and added some reindeer socks which he’d shoved in his bag as an afterthought.
‘Will Ferrell’s a genius.’ Lois said a couple of hours later as she stood up and stretched. ‘Sorry if I talked too much. I don’t often watch TV with anyone else at the moment. I was making the most of it.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ It had been endearing and it didn’t matter as he’d seenElfso many times before and agreed with most of Lois’s commentary on which bits were her favourites – most of the film qualified on that score. ‘Can I make dinner for us?’
‘You can… but most of my shopping this week was frozen festive party food so we may have to have some kind of buffet. Come on, let’s have a look.
It was going to be a great couple of days. Lois was back to normal and the awkwardness he’d thought they’d take a day or so to get over hadn’t materialised at all.
40
Lois crept past Oliver’s bedroom door. It was closed so he must still be asleep. She had thrown on a woolly jumper over her pyjamas and she tiptoed down the stairs, trying to avoid the squeaky bits.
Oliver was already in the kitchen, busy peeling carrots.
‘Merry Christmas!’ she said.
‘Merry Christmas.’ He paused in his vegetable prep, put down his peeler and came towards her.
As he took the last couple of steps towards her, she knew what was coming. He was going to hug her, and she made a split-second decision to go along with it. It was Christmas after all, and she didn’t want to start another drama like the hand-holding episode.
He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into the top of her head. She laid her head on his chest and hugged him tightly. It felt so natural, as if they’d done it a hundred times before rather than just once or twice.
‘You don’t have to do all the cooking,’ she said, pulling away. ‘Although it smells amazing so I’m not going to object that hard.’
‘Cinnamon bun and Christmas coffee?’
‘I don’t know what Christmas coffee is but yes.’
‘I’ve put some gingerbread syrup in it. I had a tiny bottle of it in the coffee house which I remembered to bring.’
‘Do you think Father Christmas has been?’ she asked him, semi-seriously as she sipped her coffee.
‘Do you want me to check?’
