‘Which Tom does.’
Mariah Carey belted out ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ and Nell’s chest tightened with the sentiment. ‘Yes, but I’ve never looked at him in that way before.’
‘Try it now,’ suggested Cat. ‘It’s not that much different to me and Kieran. Except we figured it out a lot sooner than you two.’
‘Oh, so you’re turning this into a competition, are you?’ Nell had missed this sort of gentle teasing with her friend.
‘Here,’ said Cat, resting her mug on the table and cupping her fingers around it. ‘I’ve got an idea. Close your eyes and imagine you’re on a beautiful sandy beach—’
Through one eye, Nell said, ‘What’s wrong with the pebbly one we have here in Swallowtail Bay?’
‘Just do it!’
Both of Nell’s eyes popped open. ‘Considering you’re always telling me to stop living in my imagination, this feels a little hypocritical.’ Cat glared. ‘All right, I’ll do it, but I’ve tried imagining myself with Tom and I can’t. My mind just doesn’t want to go there which can only mean one thing, can’t it? We’re not meant to be together.’
‘And how does that make you feel?’
‘Sad?’ She’d posed it as a question because she wasn’t sure herself. Was it sadness she felt because she couldn’t return Tom’s feelings? Sadness that if they did get together, they’d have wasted so much time? That final thought sent a shock through her, but her heart and head were such a mix of emotions she didn’t know what to think or feel.
‘The trouble with you is that you’ve let your imagination set standards for how romance and relationships should be and then reality can never measure up. You’ve convinced yourself it’s all bunches of roses and love notes and romantic candle-lit dinners, and while things might be like that to begin with, real love and real romance isn’t about those grand gestures.’ Nell listened intently, knowing full well Cat was right. ‘Real love is running you a bath when you’ve come home from work frazzled and absolutely knackered. It’s knowing your favourite takeaway or brand of gin. It’s buying you the extra soft tissues when you’ve got the flu even though you think they’re a bit of a rip-off. They’re the things that really matter, not roses and picture-perfect movie moments.’
Now Nell came to think of it, Tom had done some of those things for her. Not the bath thing, but he always knew what she wanted from the Chinese. Once, he’d even gone out in the middle of the night for some throat spray because she had tonsillitis and when he’d returned, he’d also brought her delicious expensive chocolate ice cream too. Had she been letting her imagination run away with her for so long she’d missed the real love right under her nose? Was that what had been happening with Harry too? Because what she felt for him didn’t seem as solid or as anchored in her heart as the feelings she had for Tom. The realisation felt like the ground shifting beneath her feet and how she understood her emotions shifted with it.
‘Come on, close your eyes and let’s do this exercise,’ Cat demanded. ‘It’s a visualisation technique I use to help my mums handle labour pains, but I want to try something. Okay?’
‘All right.’ Leaving behind the crackling fire burning in the grate and the smell of cinnamon and orange from the festive willow garland over the fireplace, Nell did as she was told and pictured the long, sandy beach. In her mind, the white sand was unbroken by footprints and a calm, bright blue sea glimmered in front of her.
‘Now picture the sun setting in the sky creating a beautiful orange sunset.’
Cat’s voice was surprisingly soothing, and Nell retreated into her imagination and the wonderful beach, leaving behind all conscious thought. She could almost feel the heat on her face, the sand beneath her toes and the gentle breeze ruffling her hair. She pictured herself in a floaty sun dress, rather than the bright red Christmas jumper she was currently wearing, her hair loose about her face.
‘Now picture the man of your dreams walking towards you. It can be your TV crush, or that hunky American who’s staying.’
Nell giggled but kept her eyes closed. ‘You do this with your mums? Don’t their husbands mind?’
‘I told you I want to try something and you’re normally the one away with the fairies so keep those eyes closed.’ She did as she was told and Cat’s low, relaxing voice continued. ‘You’re standing on the beach and he comes towards you. He’s walking slowly, smiling.’ Nell felt the corners of her mouth mirroring the imaginary smile. ‘He gets closer and closer until he’s right in front of you. Don’t look at his face yet. Then he wraps his arms around you and kisses you.’
With burning cheeks, Nell’s breath hitched in her throat. The kiss was intense, full of love everlasting but there was excitement and passion there too. ‘Now, without opening your eyes describe him to me.’
‘He’s got lovely hair the colour of sand. It’s longish, but not girly. And he’s got gorgeous eyes with a few crow’s feet at the side that make him look distinguished and when he smiles little frown lines appear on his forehead.’ As realisation dawned, Nell gasped. ‘It’s Tom! Oh my gosh, Cat! He looks like Tom.’
Cat sat back, full of satisfaction. ‘Looks like Tom or is Tom?’
‘It is Tom.’ Nell’s mouth fell open as it suddenly dawned on her how much she loved her friend and how she loved him.
All those times she’d felt weird when he had a girlfriend. It wasn’t concern that they weren’t right for him, it was jealousy. The little moments they had together, like when they nearly fell after he’d called Tracey to organise the wreath-making. She’d known her life was at a crossroads but had thought it was all down to the business, but it hadn’t been. It had been her feelings for Tom changing too.
