“Oh, some parts of the country are older still. There are Roman ruins still hanging around,” I said. “Every now and again they start a new development here and stumble across an ancient bathhouse or something.”
“Wow,” Andy said, and his awe was so genuine I couldn’t help grinning like an idiot as I drained the remainder of my hot chocolate and tossed the cup into a nearby bin.
“We could go to the museum, if you like,” I offered. “See some very old things we really ought to return to their places of origin.”
“If you shouldn’t have it, we shouldn’t go see it,” Andy said, firm and serious.
I smiled wryly. “I got myself into a lot of trouble at school for expressing a similar sentiment when I was fourteen,” I said.
“I got in trouble for… well, a lot of things,” Andy said. “Oh holy shit,” he added, stopping dead in his tracks. “Hold this, I’ll be right back.”
I took what was left of his hot chocolate—barely a mouthful—and watched him disappear into a charity shop with a sad little plastic tree tangled with ancient lights and dusty ornaments in the front window.
Less than a minute later, he came out clasping a small package with triumph shining in his eyes.
“Look,” he said, unwrapping a piece of tissue paper to show me his prize. “It matches your dad’s set, right?”
A Wedgwood teacup, in the same pattern as Father’s favorite set with the chipped one. It probably wasn’t from quite the same year, but it had the look of age about it, and it was certainly a match.
“You spotted that from all the way over here?” I asked, amazed.
Andy shrugged. “Mattered to me, I guess. He’s my friend.”
“You,” I said, swooping in to kiss his temple again as he tucked the teacup into the recycled paper bag he’d walked out of the shop with. “Have the most beautiful soul I’ve ever known.”
Andy glowed with happiness, though it was hard to say whether it was over the compliment or his incredible find. Of course, tea sets like Father’s weren’t preciselyrare, but it was still the sort of magic that could only happen at Christmas.
“You think he’ll like it?” Andy asked, excited.
“I think you’ve just cemented your place as favorite child for life,” I teased.
Andy chuckled, finishing up his hot chocolate as we walked and hanging onto the cup for three city blocks before he found a bin to throw it in.
The light was beginning to fail, the air getting cooler still, icy and cutting. Andy’s nose had gone red, and I couldn’t resist the urge to tug him into an alcove and kiss it warm again, then catch his lips.
He chuckled as we broke apart, snuggling against my chest as the first few flakes of snow began to fall overhead.
Another touch of Christmas magic, since it nearly never snowed in London at Christmas.
“Hey, Kit?” Andy said glancing up from where he was happily ensconced. “I’ve had a really nice day.”
“Good,” I murmured, tilting his chin up for one last, soft kiss. The streets were practically deserted already, veteran Londoners getting out of the snow as quickly as they could.
We had the whole place to ourselves within minutes.
I hissed as Andy’s hand slipped into mine.
“You’re freezing!”
Andy let go of my hand instantly, but I caught it again before he could shove it in his pocket instead, lifting it up to blow warm air over it.
“It wasn’t a criticism, darling,” I soothed. “I didn’t realize how long we’d been out in the cold.”
“Darling,” Andy chirped, as though simply being called that made up for any amount of being chilled to the bone because I was too stupid to check in on him before now.
“I’ll book an Uber,” I murmured, reaching for my phone as snow fell on Andy’s shoulders.
“Don’t,” he said, stopping me. “We’re not so far from your place, and, umm... I don’t want the day to be over just yet.”
