‘I…’ I stood back up, moved closer to the present. The worst thing was probably how much Ididlike it. I didn’t want to be so moved. I didn’t want it to take my breath away. ‘How did you even know I was still here?’
‘I saw Zoe with Ashton the other day, and we had a brief chat. She told me you were staying in college over the break, seemed a bit worried about it. She said Christmas isn’t an easy time for you.’
The soft feeling in me deepened. ‘My mother got into an accident around this time of year. Stuff’s just been a bit…difficult, since then.’
‘I understand. Should I not have?’
‘No, it’s fine.’ Gently I reached out and stroked a branch. ‘Sounds like you’ve talked to Zoe more than I have lately. She didn’t even say goodbye before she left.’ I fell silent briefly, running my fingertips over a scratch on a silver glass star. ‘Nor did you.’
‘I know.’ Something crunched, and in the distance I heard the rustling of leaves. I pictured him standing in the snowy driveway of some big house, and wondered why even in my imagination he seemed out of place there. ‘I was worried you might be regretting what happened at the Christmas party.’
It wasn’t a question, and yet it was. And I was still me: not a good liar. ‘I don’t regret it. I probably should, but I don’t. What about you?’
He laughed a little breathlessly. Maybe he was just cold, maybe he was relieved. ‘I got you a Christmas tree. What does that tell you?’
I forced myself to sound casual. ‘Guess it could be a thank-you present, because the kiss was so incredible.’
‘No comment.’ I could tell he was still smiling. ‘But no, that wasn’t how I meant it.’
‘How, then?’
‘As… a suggestion. What if we gave each other a Christmas present this year?’
‘If it was anybody else, I’d say you were about to make me an indecent proposal,’ I said dryly, although my body flooded with a treacherous heat.
‘Don’t worry, I just mean… a break. From everything around us. Just until the end of the year–maybe we can pretend that things aren’t quite as complicated as they are.’
The last trace of a smile faded. I rolled a little ball of resin between my fingers. The tree was wounded, and so were we. All of this–the kiss, the conversation, each spark of intimacy between us–it all felt good, strong. But it wasn’t. Whatever this thing was between us, whatever it might become if we let it, it was doomed to fail. The strangeness of our first meeting, my determination to thwart his friends, the enmity they felt towards me in return: all of it tore an open wound in what we were. We would never be undamaged. We would never work. We would never be… right.
‘As impossible, you mean,’ I whispered.
‘Yes.’ His smile was sounding sadder now. ‘What do you think?’
He knew all the objections as well as I did, but for some reason they didn’t seem to bother him enough to make what seemed like the obvious right choice. Perhaps because, like me, he’d sensed that keeping our distance didn’t feel right, either. If all you have are wrong choices, maybe you just have to pick your poison. And Blake and I–we felt like the best kind of wrong I could imagine.
‘It wouldn’t be Christmas without miracles,’ I answered, pushing all my doubts aside with an effort of will. ‘Or without a tree.’ Carefully, I took a woven heart into my palm. ‘You didn’t have to do this.’
‘I know. But the thought of you spending Christmas all alone in your room was hard enough already.’
Suddenly I was glad we were only speaking on the phone, and that he couldn’t see me. By now my face was so hot that the reflection in the star was flushed red. ‘These ornaments are really pretty,’ I said, trying to deflect.
‘Most of them are heirlooms, so some are a bit dinged-up.’
I jerked my hand back. It was just like when he told me the books in the small library were first editions. ‘You’re giving me a tree decorated withheirlooms?’ I knew from what Davie had told me that the Ames family was extremely wealthy. If even one of these baubles cost more than about two quid, he was crazy to let me anywhere near them.
‘I guess I am,’ he replied calmly. ‘Only the magpie is new. It reminded me of you, for obvious reasons.’
It took me a moment to find the bird. It was about the size of a walnut, made of glass in shades of black, white and blue, and so delicately crafted you could make out every single feather. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘It is.’ Another smile. One so soft that it flowed down the telephone line and wrapped itself around me. More heat rushed to my face, until I felt ashamed of myself.
‘Heathcliff?’ I was smiling. ‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘You’re with your family, right? How’s it going?’
Again there was the crunch of snow under his feet as he walked on. ‘I’ve only been here a few hours. Aspen and I are alone with the staff–I doubt there’ll be much change there within the next few days.’
