CHAPTER 20
Miles: Friday 17 December
‘So.’ Jack looks at Saoirse’s retreating figure. ‘She’s your “friend”, is she?’
I punch him on the arm. ‘Give it a rest, mate. She’s temping for us, as Bea’s nanny, if you must know. Just for a few weeks.’
‘Right. So she’s on duty tonight, so you can go have some fun?’
‘No, she’s not on duty. I thought she’d enjoy it, that’s all. She’s a big fan of Siobhan’s, and she’s only been in the UK for a month or two—I thought she deserved a bit of a treat.’
‘Did you, now.’
‘I did. I’m not the easiest person to work for.’
Jack raises his eyebrows. ‘No comment. So you don’t like her.’
I roll my eyes at him. ‘No. Fuck off.’
‘Are you blind or something? Because she’s a knockout.’
My exact words to Astrid.She’s a knockout. And that was before I saw her in the red dress that looked as if it had been made for her.
‘She’s beautiful. But it doesn’t mean I should seduce the poor girl.’
‘Of course not. If you just want to get laid, I agree; leave her the fuck alone and go to one of your usual haunts in Mayfair and pick someone up. But if you like her, mate, then for God’s sake, take a chance. You said it yourself—she’s only temping for you for a few weeks.
‘I felt like such a perv, making a move on Emmy. But I was pretty confident the feeling was mutual. We’d had a lot of moments—there was so much heat between us. And mate, I can’t imagine life without her.’
The choir has started up by the time we get our drinks and take them over to Saoirse and Emmy. Saoirse’s standing still, her face lifted, her expression wondrous, as the haunting strains ofOnce in Royal David’s Cityfill the air.
‘Do you want to go and listen?’ I ask her.
‘I’d love to.’ She beams at me, and my heart constricts. That smile takes my breath away.
I don’t miss Jack and Emmy exchange a glance.
‘Let us borrow Bea for a few minutes,’ Emmy says. ‘Mia’s desperate to go roast some giant marshmallows over at the fire pit.’
Emmy takes Bea by the hand as I lead Saoirse over to where the choir is performing on a stage at one end of the Walled Garden. All around the edges, the bare fruit trees and ancient walls are up-lit in white and blue. I have to admit, the Sorrel Farm team has done a great job. I’ve never been one for Christmas overload, but this feels special. Meaningful.
We find an opening in the small crowd and stand beside each other in the relative dark, watching the choir. I sneak a lookat Saoirse. Then another. She’s rapt, her profile illuminated by the up-lights. She looks like an angel. She really does. Her lips are full and smiling, and she may have the most perfect cupid’s bow I’ve ever seen. Her nose is slightly upturned, its curve delightful.
Seeing the world through her eyes is like therapy. She finds joy in everything, wonder in everything. It’s as if she’s a Christmas angel who’s been sent down to me and Bea to bring magic to our world after the horror of last year.
I shake myself.
Jesus Christ, Miles.
Get a grip.
The choir begins to singO Holy Night.Its solemnity is beautiful. Healing, almost. Beside me, Saoirse hugs herself with joy, but she shivers too, and stamps her boots on the ground.
I lean my head towards her. ‘You cold?’
‘Yeah.’ She turns and gives me a radiant smile. ‘Even in this amazing coat. How ridiculous.’ Her gaze moves to my mouth and then back to my eyes. Her smile falters, but her eyes are enormous. Hungry.
‘Come here.’ I don’t even have time to think about it or be nervous. I unbutton my coat and hold it open. I move so I’m behind her and wrap my arms tightly around her shoulders, pulling her into the heat of my body. My hands are somewhere over her collarbones. Despite the volume of her coat, this feels—right. It feels like she’s exactly where she belongs.
