Page 72 of Only for Christmas

‘Who?’

‘You’ve never heard of—?’ She waved her hand about. ‘Oh, never mind. Come on, let’s go.’

They stepped onto the ice and tried to find their footing. She gave him a filthy look when he skated around her, getting a feel for his boots.

‘Of course you’re good at this,’ she said, placing her hands on her hips. ‘Why am I even surprised. Let me guess, you played ice hockey in college?’

He nodded. ‘For a while, yeah.’

‘Whereas my ice-skating experience comes from shuffling around Streatham ice rink with my brother once a year when we visited my grandparents.’ Her arms were now stuck out to the sides and she moved tentatively around the edge of the rink.

‘Move your feet. Bend your knees.’

She shot him a look. ‘Helpful.’

‘Here… take my hand.’ He positioned himself behind her right shoulder, one arm around her waist, the other holding her hand so he had control. ‘Better?’

‘Much.’ They skated off, slowly at first, gradually building speed as she relaxed.

‘You’re not half bad,’ he said, even though they were being overtaken by kids that barely reached his kneecaps. Eventually, he was able to let go of her waist as she found her balance.

‘I’m sorry about what I said earlier,’ she said, giving him a quick glance. ‘It’s just that you’re so confident and assured all the time. Life’s about moving forwards for you. You see endless possibilities for the future. You want to build your career and have a family one day.’ She tightened her grip on his hand. ‘I’m not knocking that. I think it’s great, and I’m absolutely certain those things will happen for you. You deserve it more than anyone I know.’

He pulled her away from a woman flailing about and looking like she was about to hit the ice.

‘I only meant that once you’re settled in your new job, and making friends and building a life in Houston, this little… interlude, for want of a better word, will be a distant memory. It’ll be superseded by far more exciting and adventurous things. And quite rightly too.’

He swerved her around the woman who was now face down on the ice. ‘You’re an infuriating woman, you know that? You have no trouble seeing what’s good and positive about another person, but when it comes to assessing your own qualities, all you see are the negatives. You’re incredibly blinkered.’

She toe-picked the ice and shot forwards. He skated in front of her and caught her before she fell. When she smacked against his chest, he had to hold her steady until she’d found her feet.

She looked up at him with concerned brown eyes. ‘Are we arguing?’

He kissed her cold cheek. ‘Never. An argument is where two people disagree with equal and valid points. On this occasion, I’m entirely right, and you’re entirely wrong. No argument required. Had enough yet?’

‘God, yes.’ She let him lead her over to the side. ‘I’m glad we cleared that up. I’d hate to think we’d fallen out. Especially as we have so much still to see. How do you feel about big wheels?’

‘I’m a fan. You?’

‘Never been on one. I’m willing to give it a go. In the spirit of being adventurous, and all that.’ Her expression was sheepish and he wondered if he’d been a bit blunt with her. It just infuriated him that she couldn’t see how special she was. Maybe he was also upset because she wasn’t going to miss him anywhere near as much as he was going to miss her, and that stung.

They made their way over to the big wheel, passing a parade of dancers dressed in ice-white gowns and twirling batons. A man on stilts breathed plumes of fire into the night sky, and a woman in a white carriage followed behind, waving, pulled along by men dressed as horses.

Sarah stopped walking. ‘Okay, so can you please just say it.’

He gave her a puzzled look. ‘Say what?’

‘Whatever it is you’re itching to say. Your jaw’s twitching. It’s a tell of yours. It means you’re agitated, so just come out and say it. I can take it.’

He waited until they were climbing into a pod and the bar had settled over their laps before replying. ‘You really want me to tell you?’

She gripped hold of the bar. ‘I do. Give it to me straight.’

‘Even though it risks making things awkward between us?’

She turned to him, her expression incredulous. ‘Things are already awkward. We’re fake dating, for heaven’s sake. We’re dealing with a stalker, your divorced sister, a rude elderly neighbour and my aversion to Christmas and men. How much more awkward can it get?’

She had a point. The pod began to swing and with a clunk they moved off, lifting into the night sky. The London landmarks came into view the higher they ascended, the vast sprawl of the city below.

---