her feet.
‘That’s okay. I’m no angel,’ he said.
‘Who is?’
‘If I had a Christmas tree, I’d put you on top of it,’ he said and, beyond helping himself, he touched his knuckles to her cheek, kissed her again. Just a touch, but somehow more intense for its sweetness. A promise…‘Do you want a picture of your angel?’ he asked, forcing himself to take a step back.
‘Please.’ Then, as if she, too, needed to distract herself from the intensity of the moment, ‘I don’t suppose you have such a thing as a piece of paper?’
He searched through his pockets, found an envelope. ‘Will this do?’
‘Perfect.’ And, using a lipstick, she wrote in big block capitals: LUCYB WOZ HERE!
She propped it on the front of the snow lady, put out her hand for the phone and took a snap.
‘Great. Tweet time, I think,’ she said, pulling off her glove with her teeth and, struggling with cold fingers, keyed in a message.
Thanks for the good vibes, tweeps. Here’s a tweetpic, just to let you know that I’m safe. #findLucyB LucyB, Wed 1 Dec 22:43
Lucy lifted the phone, looking over her shoulder at him. ‘What do you think? Will that have them all running around in the snow?’
‘Is that the plan?’ he asked as she pressed ‘send’.
‘I don’t have a plan,’ she said, lifting her hand to his cheek, pressing her lips against it. Then, as she looked up at him the smile died, ‘Thank you, Nathaniel.’
‘I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be inside going through the daily sales figures instead of finding my inner child.’
‘Inside in the warm,’ she said, turning away to give the snow lady a hug. ‘Stay cool, Lily.’ Then she looked up. ‘It’s stopped snowing.’
‘I told you. It’ll all be gone by tomorrow. Everything will be back to normal.’
‘Will it?’
She sounded less than happy at the prospect. Which made two of them.
‘We’ve still got tonight. Are you hungry?’
Her eyes lit up. ‘Absolutely starving.’
Diary update: Fun and frolics in the park with Nathaniel. I didn’t see that coming and neither, I suspect, did he. I have to admit that making a snowman—snow lady—in the park at ten o’clock at night in a blizzard is probably not the most sensible thing I’ve ever done. And it’s getting hard to top the stupid ones I’ve done today.
And then he kissed me. No, wait, I kissed him. We kissed each other. Lying in the snow.
‘I know what this is all about, you know.’ Lucy gave him a sideways grin as they stood on the Embankment overlooking the river, tucking into hot dogs. ‘Why we’re having hot dogs. You just don’t want all that nasty bright yellow eggy, cheesy stuff in your kitchen.’
‘It’s not that.’
Nat took out his phone and snapped her as she sucked a piece of onion into her mouth.
‘Hey, not fair!’
‘One more for your fans,’ he said, lifting it out of reach as she made a grab for it. ‘The truth of the matter, Lucy B, is that I couldn’t make an omelette to save my life.’
For some reason she seemed to think that was funny.
They’d laughed a lot.
She’d laughed at a couple of outrageous Santa incidents he’d shared from way back in the history of the store. He’d laughed at her stories about a day-care nursery where she’d worked. It was obvious how much she loved the children she’d worked with. From a momentary wistfulness in her look, how much she missed them.
As she’d talked, laughed, all the strain had seeped out of her limbs and her face and she’d told him enough about her character—far more than she realised—to reassure him that she was on the level.
‘Actually, this is great. Crazy perfect.’ She bumped shoulders with him. ‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said, wrapping his arm around her waist, wanting to keep her close. And it was. Golden curls peeped out from beneath her hat, framing a face lit up, almost translucent in the lamplight.
And, as the strain had eased from her face, the knots deep in his own belly had begun to unravel, at least until that second kiss. At which point they had been replaced by a different kind of tension.
‘I hope the missing elf had as much fun as we have,’ she said. ‘I owe her a lot.’
‘Me too,’ he said. ‘I’ll check with HR first thing to see if there were any messages. Deflect any problems.’
‘Why?’ she asked, her tongue curling out to catch an errant onion. ‘Why would you do that? Any of this?’
Good question.
She looked up. ‘What happened, Nathaniel? On the stairs.’
Another good question.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. That something had happened—something momentous—was beyond doubt. ‘I can tell you why I noticed you.’
‘That’s a start.’
‘It was your hair…The way it seemed to float around your head like a halo. It reminded me of someone.’
Quite suddenly, Lucy lost her appetite. What had she expected him to say? That he’d been captivated at a glance. Lie to her? She’d had enough lies to last her a lifetime.
‘The woman these clothes belong to?’ she asked, pushing it.
‘Claudia. Her name was Claudia. She was my cousin’s wife.’
‘You were in love with her?’ Stupid question. Of course he was.
‘We both were. I met her at university, dated her, but when I brought her home she met Christopher and after that it was always him. It didn’t stop Chris obsessing that we were having an affair when we worked together on the store design.’
She lifted her hand to the bruise at her temple, gently rubbing her fingers over the sore spot, remembering his concern.
‘He was abusive,’ she said.
‘I believe so. She used to brush aside any concern, say she bruised at a touch. Was always walking into things. Maybe she was. She wasn’t eating properly, fighting an addiction to tranquillisers. Then one day I caught her running, terrified. I held her,’ he said. ‘Just held her, begged her to leave him. Not for me. For herself. And then Chris caught up with her, held out his hand to her and, without a word, she took it. Walked away with him. It was as if she had no will.’ He glanced
