‘I got some, too. Daddy said we can all get into our PJs when we get home and watch TV together on the sofa. You can get changed in the barf-room.’ She points. ‘So we don’t see your bum-bum.’ She giggles her beautiful, silver-bell-peal and clamps her hand over her mouth.
‘It would be dreadful to see Saoirse’s bum-bum,’ Miles drawls behind me. ‘Better get in there.’
‘How did you guys pull this off? This is, like, the best ambush ever.’
‘We went to M&S.’ Bea skips on the spot in delight.
‘For the PJs. And the concierge may have got Harrods involved for the stocking. We don’t want you missing out when Father Christmas turns up later.’
‘Thank you both. So much. This is—wonderful. I’m so excited to spend Christmas with you two. And I’m excited for my sleepover.’ I squeeze Miles’ hand.
We watchMiracle on Thirty-Fourth Streetin our pyjamas with Bea wedged between us. Miles has hardly let go of me since we left my flat. He has an arm around me now, on the sofa.
‘You have no idea how happy I am to be here, with you two,’ I whisper. ‘I’m so glad you rescued me.’
He squeezes my shoulder more tightly. ‘Don’t think for a second that we rescued you, okay?’ His voice is gruff. ‘You rescued us. Otherwise Bea wouldhave been stuck spending Christmas with the Grinch.’
‘Grooge.’
‘Exactly. We’re so glad you’re here. Aren’t we, Beadle?’
‘Huh?’ The poor kid is just trying to watch the movie.
‘Aren’t we glad Saoirse’s here?’
‘Yes.’ Bea high-fives him. ‘Can we have a selfie?’
Miles groans. ‘It’s horrifying that you know that word, but yes.’
I hold up my phone, snap the three of us in our tartan PJs, grinning like lunatics. I send it to Miles, and then to Clodagh.
Christmas Day is looking up x
My sister writes back immediately.
YESSSS. Want full details. So happy for you xxx
After we tuck Bea up in bed, we pass the time while waiting for her to fall asleep by snuggling and making out on the sofa. Kissing Miles on his sofa like a teenager is an exceptionally pleasant way to while away half an hour.
‘Father Christmas has a boner,’ he groans as he staggers upright.
‘Father Christmas has some festive chores to do before he gets lucky.’
‘I’m already lucky.’ He pulls me to him.
It’s my first time playing Santa, and it’s pretty lush. We put the generous assortment of wrapped AmericanGirl doll paraphernalia under the tree and proceed to fill Bea’s stocking with all the goodies I found on Oxford Street.
I stuff some bath bombs in. ‘I fancied you so much when you took me for those drinks at Claridge’s. I was in pieces.’
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Yeah. All I wanted to do was curl up on your lap and undress you, right there in the bar.’
The look he shoots me is nothing short of triumphant. ‘You were pretty squirmy that evening. And I seem to remember you telling me I should make better use of you, while I had you.’
I’m a bit mortified by this reminder until he adds, ‘I couldn’t take my eyes off you that night, baby. You were magnificent—all big eyes and heaving tits. You’re lucky I had the self-control to keep things professional.’
‘That didn’t last long, did it? How’s that self-control working out for you now?’ My voice sounds breathy to my own ears.
