“No hurry. Bathroom is there—” He waved a hand and she walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
She leaned against it and breathed, eyes closed. She could still feel the hug his mother had given her. Only people who had never felt the need to protect themselves hugged like that. Without reservation.
Pulling herself together, she turned and stared into the mirror and tried to see herself as other people might.
It was funny how the outside of a person told you little about the inside. She probably looked normal to them. They didn’t know that she was a seething mass of insecurities, held together by willpower and determination.
She finished in the bathroom and changed out of her jeans into a short dress in a shade of rich violet blue which she teamed with boots.
Jamie immediately tugged her against him. “You look so good in that dress I just want to take it off. On second thought, let’s not go downstairs.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “Let’s order room service.”
“I’m not sure you can order room service in your own home, can you?”
“I’ll tell them I have this urge to lie down on the bed.” He muttered the words against her mouth. “It’s true.”
“Then they’ll come looking for us and that would be embarrassing.” She eased away from him regretfully and reached for her bag.
She quickly replenished her makeup. A touch of blush. A swipe of lipstick. Not too much, but just enough to give her confidence.
Then she was ready.
She heard the sound of laughter from somewhere in the house and Jamie closed his hand over hers.
“Sounds as if they’re all in the living room. Daunting, I know. But let’s do this.”
Let’s do this.
She knew he wasn’t talking about joining the family for drinks. This was the moment. He was going to tell them. She’d wanted him to tell them, but now the time had come she wished she could postpone the moment. She wanted to dig her heels in and buy herself some time, but she forced herself to walk with him down the stairs.
Her heart was hammering. This was the part she’d been dreading, and for that reason it was probably best that they got it out of the way. If Jamie was right, then everyone would be happy for them. If he was wrong—well, whatever happened it wasn’t going to be her worst Christmas. She’d had plenty of those in the past.
Delicious smells wafted from the kitchen and she could hear the rumble of conversation from the living room.
She took a breath and followed him into the room.
“And I said to your grandmother, I really don’t think—” Jenny broke off as she saw them. “Here they are! We decided champagne as it has been so long since we’ve been together.This bottle was a gift from some of Martin’s patients. We were waiting for you before opening it. Martin, give Hayley a glass, unless you’d rather have something nonalcoholic, Hayley? No pressure.”
No pressure? The whole thing was pressure.
“Thank you. Champagne would be lovely.”
Jamie frowned at her. “You don’t drink.”
“It’s fine!” She felt heat pour into her cheeks.
“But—”
“I have sparkling elderflower in my left hand and champagne in my right,” Jamie’s father said, proffering two glasses. “Pick whichever you prefer.”
She didn’t want to inconvenience anyone, but as he was holding both she gave a smile of thanks and took the elderflower gratefully.
“Great. And come closer to the fire,” Jenny said. “There’s so much snow coming down outside that window it’s making me cold just looking at it. I’m going to be awake all night worrying about Becky and Will.”
Martin handed a glass to Jamie. “Given that they messaged to say they’d booked into a cosy hotel, you’re going to be losing a night’s sleep for nothing. And if you’re losing a night’s sleep then no doubt so will I.”
Jenny raised her glass. “I thought we’d all be here to do this together tonight, but that’s an excuse to do it all again tomorrow when Becky is here. And anyway tomorrow we’ll be too busy with the party to have a family moment so let’s make the most of it—” She smiled at Rosie and then at Jamie. “Welcome home. It’s going to be a special Christmas.”
Hayley took a sip of her drink, wishing for a moment that she’d chosen the champagne. At least it might have numbed the terror of what was to come.
