‘Do not pass Go! Don’t you dare take that two hundred pounds!’
Somehow, with our combined total of three arms, James and I managed to make dinner, so far no one’s noticeably gone down with food poisoning, and now the whole lot of us are sitting on my living-room floor. My mum, two cousins, my brother and his girlfriend, James and his mum and dad, surrounded by piles of presents, tubs of chocolates, crackers and paper hats.
It’s the biggest family Christmas I’ve had for years. It’s been chaotic and fun and so lovely to catch up with cousins I haven’t seen for years, meet my brother’s girlfriend, and see Mum relax for a change. Even Stacey, Simon, and Lily turned up this afternoon with presents and more chocolates.
I wanted James’s present to be something special and was thrilled when I managed to track down a vintage game of Monopoly from the Eighties with the red and white striped box, exactly as he described when he mentioned his favourite childhood gift, and it was worth everything for the look on his face when he opened it this morning.
There are still balled-up shreds of wrapping paper strewn throughout the room, a minty candle melting in the candle warmer, and tree lights twinkling while the fire crackles. There’s only eight tokens so James and I are squashed together like some sort of hybrid three-armed player. I’ve got my arm wrapped through his and my head on his shoulder, and every time he looks at me, his eyes are shining with happiness and he’s got that cheeky smile that makes my heart flutter and he squeezes minutely closer, and the fact we’re in polite company only serves to build the anticipation of kissing him later.
He’s wearing Grinch lounge pants and green-and-blue striped fluffy socks and his first really Christmassy Christmas jumper with “Noel” written in a wreath of silver stars, along with the perfect shade of navy party hat from a Christmas cracker. My hat is green and I’ve got it on over the top of a Santa hat because it doesn’t matter how daft you look at Christmas, and I’m wearing my baby-blue kissing penguins jumper and three pairs of fluffy socks – all the ones I’ve unwrapped this morning.
We’ve all got mugs of hot chocolate each, despite the fact everyone is still uncomfortably full from the Christmas dinner, and everyone keeps delving into the Quality Street tin despite protesting that they couldn’t eat another thing – exactly what Christmas is all about, and I can’t think of any better way to spend it, or any people I’d rather spend it with.
***
The cousins left early, Mum and my brother and his girlfriend have walked back to Mum’s house, and James has run his parents home while I clean up and make a start on the pile of washing up that’s so huge, I expect mountaineers and explorers to be along any minute and stick a flag in the top of it.
I get halfway through it before I hear his car pull up outside, and a couple of minutes later he comes in and kisses me so passionately that I nearly drop the plate in my hand. ‘You have no idea how badly I’ve needed to do that all day.’
‘Oh, I do.’ It’s my turn to kiss him. ‘I really do.’
The washing up is forgotten as I lose myself in him until he takes the plate away from me and starts drying up, always the perfect gentleman.
In the living room, Christmas music is still playing quietly as I pull a bin bag around and fill it with discarded wrapping paper and polystyrene packing from presents. “Little Drummer Boy”, the song that always reminds me of nutcrackers, comes on and James goes over to turn the light off. He comes back, takes my hand and pulls me against him, holding on tight as he starts gently dancing us around the room.
‘We seem to have done this before.’
‘We can stop if you want,’ he murmurs against my hair, sounding like Santa popping down the chimney to say he’s misplaced a reindeer is more likely. My hands curl into his shoulders hard enough to leave him in no doubt that I’m not on board with that idea.
It’s a perfect Christmas evening. The room smells of peppermint and woodsmoke from the fire, and now everyone’s gone home, there’s something about it just being the two of us and an evening of relaxing and eating sandwiches made of leftovers for supper later. The lights on the tree twinkle and flash, and the six-foot nutcracker with the mended arm that he gave me for Christmas stands silently in the corner, watching over us.
‘I wanted to say thank you.’ James moves his head until he can whisper in my ear. ‘Thank you for making me “get” Christmas. Today was incredible. I already know that’s one of the best memories I’m ever going to have of my dad.’
‘He looked well.’
‘He looked happy. For the first time in years, he and my mum know that their beloved business is going to be okay because of you.’
‘Because of both of us. All of us. Everyone who’s got involved in restoring Nutcracker Lane to its former glory. Because none of it would’ve happened without you.’
‘I guess we make a perfect team.’ He leans down and presses his lips against my cheek. ‘I just wanted you know this was my best Christmas ever.’
‘Good. Just so long as you know that neither of us are getting up off that sofa for the next few days unless there’s a national emergency.’
‘I am absolutely okay with that.’ He wraps both arms around me and I reach up and cover the fingers of his broken one and let myself relax in his embrace.
I know there will be challenges ahead. We both know it’s not going to be an easy year, but some people are like magic personified and make you feel like you can face anything with
