It Won’t be Christmas Without You. Beth Reekles

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СКАЧАТЬ Chapter 4

      She could do this. Only a few more days of school to go until they broke up for the holidays, and then – then she’d never have to go through another run of that bloody nativity again.

      If Eloise had to hear Away in a Manger or Don’t Stop Me Now again any time soon, she’d scream. They’d been playing on a constant loop all day while the children did full run-throughs. And much as Eloise loved seeing them so happy and so full of Christmas spirit, it was driving her a little nuts.

      Pouring herself a generous glass of white wine, she’d never been so glad to sink into her sofa. She FaceTimed Cara, but the call cut off before it was answered and she got a text instead.

       Still in work and going straight to meet George. I’ll try to call you later xxx

       PS How’s the nativity going? On the vino yet?

      Eloise couldn’t help but feel disappointed, even as she typed out upbeat replies filled with emojis. It was gone six and she knew from Cara’s Instagrammed coffee at 7.32 a.m. that morning that she’d been in work early.

      At school and at uni, Eloise always thought they’d both worked as hard as each other. They’d both fallen in love with Birmingham, and had lived in the same halls and house share throughout their degrees. Eloise wasn’t finding it hard to be away from Cara lately so much as she found it hard to just talk to her sister. Especially with all this promotion stuff going on. Cara worked too bloody hard.

      So bloody hard she was even skipping Christmas and had encouraged their parents to do the same.

      Eloise fired off the last few wine glass emojis to Cara and a Snapchat to match, then set her phone aside. “Humbug,” she muttered.

      And giggled. A half-glass of wine and she was already tipsy. She probably should’ve eaten something before opening the bottle.

      By the time she’d finished her glass, a movie had started on one of the TV channels and she left it to play, snuggling into her woolly cardigan and snapping off the lamp beside her. The Christmas tree and the fairy lights were all on, and she’d lit a cinnamon sugar-scented candle, so the room was lit with a warm, festive glow.

      Bliss.

      Lonely bliss, but still some kind of bliss.

      Wryly, she thought this was probably more festive than Christmas morning would be.

      Cara’s fault.

      She’d barely settled in with the movie when there was a knock on her door.

      Eloise sat up, muted the TV. Cocked her head and listened.

      Another knock. Definitely her door.

      She didn’t understand who it would be. Someone in the block, surely. You had to have a key to get into the building, or a special code for the intercom. If someone wanted to actually, physically knock her door, they had to get into the building first.

      Another knock, this one harder, more insistent.

      Eloise clambered up from the sofa, staggering a little as the wine hit her, and giggling while she steadied herself. Once she got to the door (which took at least three times as long as usual) she peered through the peep-hole.

      Jamie knocked again, hammering his fist against the door. “I saw your lights on from outside, Eloise. I can hear you moving around.”

      She undid the chain and opened the door. She lifted her chin primly, pursing her lips. “Can I help you?”

      She hiccupped.

      Giggled again, pressing a hand to her mouth. Her whole face felt warm.

      Jamie raised an eyebrow, but then went back to looking sullen and moody. Brooding, maybe. Brooding was a word that suited him. In a very Jon Snow-esque way. And ooh, he was wearing glasses. She’d never seen him in glasses before. Rectangular, black frames. They suited him. A lot. He cleared his throat, distracting her from looking at him. (And she really was only looking, definitely not staring. Not at all.) “I, um, I need a favour.”

      “Do you need more wrapping paper?”

      He’d knocked on her door two days ago, needing paper to wrap a Secret Santa gift for someone in work. He’d laughed at her collection of ribbons and bows and tags, but taken some anyway, smirking when she told him he’d picked the wrong ones to match the paper.

      “No. I, um …” Jamie cleared his throat and stood up straighter, which was when she realised he’d been slouching. He was so much taller than her when he didn’t slouch, and she wasn’t in her usual heeled boots. His cheeks reddened. “I locked myself out. I went to take the recycling out and just … I forgot my keys. Obviously I can get into the building, but … not my flat. I tried the estate agent for a spare key, but they’re shut till the morning. I know this is a really weird favour to ask, but …”

      “You can stay here,” Eloise said, before he could stammer and drag it out any more. God, he was making it painful. Like this was more trouble for him than it would be for her. Prick, she thought, but smiled politely. “It’s not a problem. Have you eaten yet? I might order some pizza. I’m starving.”

      “I could eat.”

      Eloise stepped aside, waving a hand grandly to admit him into the flat. She closed the door after him, and was pleased that he made use of the shoe rack without her even having to ask.

      Jamie followed her into the living room, perching on the other end of the sofa. He looked awkward and out of place. He must’ve felt it too, because he ran a hand back and forth through his hair, mussing it up, cleaned his glasses on his T-shirt, rubbed his jaw.

      Had he always looked this cute?

      Maybe it was the glasses. Or the messy hair.

      He might be too long for the sofa, Eloise wondered. But she could hardly offer him the bed. That was where she was sleeping.

      He pointed at the TV and she followed his finger while she picked her phone up from where it had fallen on the floor earlier. She checked it for notifications, even though she knew there would be none. “Good movie.”

      “Is it? I’ve not seen it before.”

      She couldn’t even remember what it was called. Just that it was some movie with Daniel Radcliffe, about magic, and not Harry Potter. Mark Ruffalo was currently on screen.

      Eloise loaded the Dominos app, picking a two-pizza deal and choosing one for herself before handing the phone to Jamie to pick what he wanted.

      “I’ll pay you back tomorrow, when I manage to get into my flat.”

      She waved him off as she tapped in the credit card details she knew off by heart. A side-effect of a lot of online shopping at university and a lack of ability to budget. “Don’t worry about it, honestly. You want some wine? Tea? I’ve got some coffee, but it’s only decaf. Um … there’s some lemonade too. Or orange juice. Or –”

      “Tea СКАЧАТЬ