Everyone round the table calls out, “Try, and try again.”
He nods. “He did. He kept pursuing her, trying every way to charm her, to change her mind. Until…she married a rich man and Hywel’s heart was broken.”
Raff clutches his chest as if stabbed. I have to stifle a giggle and look around to check in case any of the others noticed. No, they’re all watching the professor as he spins the yarn.
Haneen was right. My father is charming, and he’s certainly full of fascinating stories.
Even Jack is happy. Although, his joy is in part because he’s now convinced it’s only a matter of time before he comes to live here. A problem I still don’t know how to solve. But at least when it comes to saying goodnight, he doesn’t cling to me as before. He just takes my hand. “Thank you again, my dear, dear girl. I know you have to ask the owner; he seems a very decent fellow so I’m optimistic. Just know that I’ll be ready to move whenever you say the word.”
My own heart might break worse than Hywel’s.
“If I were a coward, I’d ask Evan to deliver the bad news,” I tell Raff later that night when we’re in bed. “After all, it’s his house and he can explain why the house isn’t suited.”
Raff squeezes me to him. “Well, you’d better do it fast because Jack has been telling anyone who’ll listen that he’s moving here before Christmas.”
“What am I going to do? I won’t even be here for Christmas.”
“Where will you be?” Raff asks.
“Not sure.” I sigh. Mum wants to me to stay with them. I really, really don’t want to do that. Last week I heard from a friend who has a spare room in her house which she offered me at a reasonable rent. It’s only a box room, but it’ll do while I look for something more permanent. The room is vacant from Christmas Eve, so I thought I’d spend Christmas Day unpacking and making my temporary room look like home. I nuzzle into his neck. “That was the thing about theAladdintour, I’d have been working.”
“Your family?”
What family?“Mum will be dressed up and drinking champagne with the neighbours. Horrible Howard, that’s her husband. He’ll be drunk and making jokes that only he finds funny.” I lay a soft kiss on Raff’s chest. “I don’t think so.”
“Then why not stay here with me?”
It’s tempting. “I don’t want the professor to feel like I’m forcing him to play happy families.”
My ‘father’ has made it very clear he doesn’t want family, and my hanging around on Christmas Day would corner him into having to give me a card or a present. All the things families do. It’ll also oblige Haneen and Evan to sort of adopt me. Damsel in distress again.
I don’t know if Raff can read my mind, but he must guess enough.
“You don’t have to be a guest, why not be a host? Host a Christmas party for the Squad?”
I open my mouth to argue, but the idea grows on me. A little. It takes shape. And the best part of it is that I’d get to spendChristmas with Raff. That beats unpacking in a box room any day.
“You know that I’m not really a cook.”
“Make sandwiches,” he says. He’s leading me gradually to a new challenge because surely he knows and I know he knows that I won’t make sandwiches for Christmas. That such a scheme would push me to research recipes and create something a bit better. Actually, Haneen might help. We could do a combined Christmas. Would they be okay with that?
I thread my fingers through Raff’s hair, combing the soft locks all the way to the ends. “Are you going to be here to help me?”
“Of course. We could put on a fabulous Christmas dinner with games and everything. Give the Squad something to remember us when we’re gone.”
“I’ll be starting rehearsals forSleeping Beautyin January.” And he’ll be off too.
“What’s Mauritania like?”
“Like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
I want to draw him out because this location filming is fascinating. I’ve been googling the show, but all the pictures look over-the-top fantastical. Sand dunes, stark reddish cliffs and sand and stone houses.
“Are you looking forward to going back?”
He sighs but doesn’t answer. Instead, he holds me closer and kisses me again and again until we both forget Christmas and everything else. But a few hours later, when he’s lying beside me,one arm folded under his head, his eyes on the ceiling, he does answer.
“I am looking forward to getting back. I love the work. But it’s not a stroll in the park. The place might be beautiful and very picturesque but we’re filming in winter, which makes it hot in the day and freezing at night. It plays havoc with you if you’re not acclimatised to it. It’s dry and the sand gets everywhere, and I meaneverywhere.” He emphasises his words with a meaningful look.
