Page 64 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
Geoff raises both hands. “Low point. I admit it.”
Theo grins, but there’s something softer about him tonight. He’s lounging on his sofa, hoodie slightly skewed, hair still damp. Ivy’s probably just out of frame. Lucy’s well into bedtime by now. It’s strange, seeing him settled like this. Like he’s properly landed.
“I still can’t believe we’re not doing a family Christmas this year,” I say, nudging the pan off the heat.
“Blame the parentals,” Geoff replies. “Ditching us for bingo nights and rum punches during Christmas of all times!”
Theo lifts his mug in a sort of tired toast. “Mum said she needed ‘a break from the cold and something turquoise’. Dad just nodded and booked the cruise.”
“They literally live on an island,” I mutter. “Guernsey has turquoise.”
“Not Caribbean turquoise,” Geoff says. “That’s warmer. And comes with butlers.”
“Honestly, I’m fine with it,” Theo adds. “Means I don’t have to cart Lucy and a mountain of plastic to St Peter Port. We get to do our own thing this year.”
“And,” I say, giving him a look, “you get your first Christmas with Ivy.”
Theo tries to hide the smile and fails. “Yeah.”
“Look at him,” Geoff says. “All cosy domestic. Practically glowing.”
“Shut up.”
“Still dragging out the in-person introduction, then?” I ask, slicing into the steak.
Theo winces. “Not dragging. Just... strategically postponing.”
“Because of Mum?”
“Because of Mum,” Theo confirms. “She’s like Guernsey society in a cashmere cardigan. I love her, but I’m not risking Ivy getting the full interrogation just yet.”
“She’s met her on video though, right?” Geoff asks.
Theo nods. “Once. Mum asked if she was a vegetarian and then offered her that weird rabbit stew recipe.”
I groan. “The one with the sherry glaze?”
“Yep. Ivy thought it was a joke. I didn’t have the heart to correct her.”
Geoff grins. “I mean, technically, it is a family heirloom. Just not a particularly good one.”
“I just want things to be calm,” Theo says. “Ivy’s happy. Lucy’s settled. No need to go poking the bear in a Monsoon blouse.”
I take another bite of steak, chewing slowly. “So what about you, Geoff? Any chance of you popping over for a day or two?”
He shakes his head. “Can’t. Got roped into some fancy Christmas Day shoot in New York.”
“Wait,” I frown. “You're flying to New York on Christmas Day?”
Geoff pulls a face. “Christmas Eve actually. Some rich wanker wants me to capture ‘natural, candid magic’ with his genetically blessed children and their Labradoodle in a five-storey townhouse in Brooklyn. I’ll be knee-deep in artificial snow and designer tantrums by breakfast. I’ll be back after Boxing Day.”
Theo raises a brow. “I thought you hated doing that kind of stuff.”
“I do,” Geoff says bluntly. “It’s soulless, staged nonsense. And the dads always want their watches in shot. Honestly, I’m thinking of chucking it in altogether.”
That draws a beat of silence.
“You’re serious?” I ask.
