Fred pushed the door shut and tapped in the code for the gates. She nipped through as soon as the gap was wide enough, and pressed the button to close them again.
Ryan waited until she was safely locked in, before giving her a final wave and driving away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
He likes all the parts of me. She smiled to herself and held his words close like treasure.
21
Saturday, December 14
“You look lovely!” Aunt Cambeamed up at her from the bottom of the stairs.
“Is it too much, though?” Fred smoothed her box-pleat palazzo pants down with her hands and then pulled at the white Bardot top she’d tucked into them. “Do I look like I’m dressed for work?”
“Only if you’re trying to seduce the boss,” said Aunt Aggie, sucking a honey-colored drink through a metal straw, the wizard sleeve on her kimono slipping up her arm to reveal her wrist splint.
“Why are you getting yourself in a pickle? It’s only Ryan,” Aunt Cam said, twizzling the tassel tie on her cape.
“I know that.” She hadn’t divulged the recent complexities of her friendship with Ryan to her family. “I just thought, since it’s nearly Christmas, I’d dress up a bit, in honor of the season.”
Her aunts shared a looked as they sucked on their straws.
“Here we are,” said Bella, coming up behind her. “Lift your hair up.”
Fred lifted her long hair, and her mum put the necklace around her neck and fastened the clasp at the back.
“Lovely,” said Bella, reaching her arms around her daughter and kissing her cheek. “My mum’s locket, passed down to me and now to you.”
Fred was touched; she placed her palm flat over the locket that now lay against her chest. She remembered sitting at her mum’s dressing table while Bella did her hair when she was a girl, holding up the chain and watching the shiny locket twirl. She used to think the sparkles that came off it in the light were signs that her grandma was with them. “Thank you,” she said, smiling. What’s this in aid of?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while, and now seemed as good a time as any. It was always meant to be passed on when the time was right. There is a lot of love in this locket, maybe it will bring you luck.” Bella’s eyes glinted as she rested her chin on Fred’s shoulder, their cheeks touching. The hall mirror reflected the two women, one older, one younger, but so obviously cut from the same cloth.
“I love it,” said Fred.
Bella sighed, still smiling. “My goodness, she would be so proud of you.”
Fred felt a lump in her throat. She ran her fingers over the floral engravings of the locket. Bella rarely spoke about her mother. She guessed she couldn’t think about her without recalling her father, too, and she knew her mum triedhard never to give him space in their universe, as though his wickedness could somehow reach in and infect them if summoned. What she knew of her was that she had been most beloved, and too kind for this cruel world. Fred hoped some of her grandma’s goodness would rub off on her.
Her mum gave her a final squeeze and kissed her cheek, then left her to finish getting ready.
Fred leaned closer to the mirror and applied more lip balm. Her nerves were threatening to overwhelm her. The last time she’d kissed Ryan Frost he had recoiled in horror, and she really didn’t want a repeat performance. And there would be kissing, she knew there would. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She didn’t want much; only to undo the past and be the best kisser Ryan had ever had.
Ryan arrived, and the sound of his voice made her breath catch. Whenever she’d imagined this moment, he was always waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her admiringly as she made her descent. In reality, her knees forgot how to bend, and she hobbled stiffly down, gripping hold of the banister like a walking peg doll, while Ryan frowned up at her, pulling on the neck of his shirt as though it was strangling him, a sheen of sweat visible on his forehead. Her family had thankfully removed themselves to the kitchen.
“Hi,” she said when she reached him. They were standing very close to one another. He had been liberal with the aftershave, but she could still smell roasted coffee beneath it.
“Did you hurt your legs?” Ryan asked.
“No. Did you run here?” she asked, looking up at his forehead.
He grinned. “Nervous?”
“Bricking it. You?”
“Haven’t been this scared since I took my driving test. Shall we?” he asked.
“Yes, let’s.”
Ryan helped her into her winter coat—which somewhat spoiled her outfit—and pulled open the front door, gesturing that she should go first.
