Bing.
Hey! Back in Briz for Xmas. Hit me up.
Damn straight. I smile as I hear another Belle phrase now embedded in my own vocabulary as I pick up my phone and hit Jamal’s number.
I’m going to make the most of this Christmas with her.
Belle.
I am in a pub in Bath. It’s loud, raucous and proper Christmassy. As well as my colleagues from the shop and half of Bath, I am surrounded by bags full of gifts, all lovingly wrapped with brown paper and green ribbon, teamed with some teeny-weeny pinecones I found in the cemetery, ready for my family tomorrow. I also have Rory’s present, which is considerably less wieldy and proving a monumental pain in the arse, as well as the battered little fox I found on the wall.
A god-awful hangover kicked in mid-afternoon so I am knocking back a gin but largely because it’s socially expected. I’m not a massive drinker and as soon as I’ve finished this I’m going to high-tail it out of here, head to a taxi rank and get me and all this stuff over to my parents’ house.
I pull out my phone to check the time; I don’t want to get there too early and have to converse with Mum and Dad. Mean, I know, but I know myself and would like to tiptoe in once they’re in bed, rather than peak too early with trying hard to be the perfect daughter tonight and not have enough patience left for tomorrow.
I see a missed text from Rory.
I’ve had a word with Santa and he’s promised to make this your best Christmas ever. What you up to tonight?
Cute, probably not true, but cute. Really not helping my crush though.
I’m in The Hat and Feather but just about to grab a taxi back to my parents’ place. And thank Santa for me. I need all the help I can get.
Don’t get a taxi, that’s madness. I’ll give you a lift.
Thank you but don’t be daft. Really is no need.
Practically in the car already. See you in ten.
I didn’t expect to see Rory today and after the sexual tension of yesterday feeding my crush I’m giddy at the thought. I pick up my bags, all nine million of them, and try not to injure too many people as I balance the big box for Rory – it had been such a good idea at the time – and head outside to stand by a parking spot.
In a matter of minutes, he pulls up beside me.
‘Hello, beautiful.’ He winds down the window and speaks with a mock-European accent.
‘They still arrest people for kerb-crawling, you know,’ I say, trying to calm my heart. He called me beautiful. Rory Walters just called me beautiful. To all of us girls with low self-esteem out there, we really need a higher bar, but it feels so good.
‘And how do they feel about full-on kidnap?’ He jumps out of the car and immediately frees me of all packages.
‘Yep, definitely still an offence but if you want to kidnap me, I’m willing,’ I say. Oh God, is that too flirty? Rory doesn’t run up the hill screaming so I figure I’m okay.
‘What on earth is this?’ He mock-topples under the size of the box.
‘That’s yours.’
‘No!’
‘Yeah.’
‘That’s insane. What have you got me, a small army? A baby elephant?’
‘It’s big but it’s not heavy. Do you want it now?’
He moves the weight of the box from one hand to the other and grins. ‘I kind of do, but let’s wait, shall we? Wait until Boxing Day and we can both do gifts then?’
‘Yes. I like that. It will be something to look forward to after tomorrow.’
‘Perfect.’ He slides the box into the boot and then puts all my other bags in too.
