His elbow presses into the line where our thighs are touching as he lifts our joined hands and twists his wrist, turning them over and sort of examining them, his fingers tightening and then gently rubbing the back of my hand. He seems lost in thought for a curiously long time. ‘We could help each other, you know …’
‘We could?’
‘I have to take over my father’s business next year and I don’t know what to do with it. I need to find some Christmas spirit. That’s what I came here for, and I can’t think of anyone more full of Christmas spirit than someone with your taste in jumpers. I don’t “get” Christmas, Nia. I don’t understand why so many people love it. And you do. I need someone like you in my life.’
No matter the context, I can’t deny it’s nice to hear that. Most of the men in my life have said the exact opposite.
‘And I know a little bit about retail and I can’t help but notice that your shop doesn’t exactly stand out. Let me help you save it – and make sure you’re one of the chosen few who come back next year, and in return, show me why Christmas means so much to you. Help me understand why it’s important to people, why it matters so much, because I don’t think I can do what’s required of me next year without some help.’
‘You want me to un-Grinch you?’
He starts singing, ‘Un-Grinch my heart,’ to the tune of the Toni Braxton classic “Unbreak My Heart”. ‘Say you’ll mistletoe me again.’
I get so lost in the fit of giggles that I snort and it doesn’t even matter because he’s laughing so much too, even though it must be painful. How is it possible that one man can be so simultaneously adorable and as irritating as finding a paintbrush bristle in dried paint and having to sand the whole item down and start again?
It takes a few minutes for me to be able to breathe again, and I’m not sure if he’s quiet because he’s trying not to pressure me or if he’s trying not to die because laughing seems like one of his most painful activities.
‘Well, I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.’ I glance down at his tousled dark hair still on my shoulder. ‘A really challenging challenge.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ he says with another laugh.
‘I’ve got my family coming for Christmas for the first time,’ I say as I think about it, even though I can’t imagine ever turning down a chance to turn a Christmas hater into a Christmas lover. ‘Usually my mum hosts but she’s got high blood pressure and her doctor’s told her to avoid stress, so I said I’d do it, and then Mum said, “Oh, brilliant. Your brother’s bringing his new girlfriend and those cousins we haven’t seen for five years are coming,” and long story short, I’m hosting Christmas for five extra people including distant relatives who weren’t happy that Grandma left her cottage to me and are probably coming to inspect it and make sure I haven’t wrecked the place yet, and my brother’s new girlfriend who he met while travelling and who doesn’t speak a word of English, and it has to live up to my mother’s expectations. And she shops in Waitrose. I shop in Aldi. I need all the help I can get.’
‘And you enjoy this?’
‘Yeah. I mean, when I agreed I thought it’d just be me and Mum and maybe my brother if he was back from his travels, but unexpected guests are part of Christmas.’
‘And you think I can help?’
‘I have everything to do. I haven’t even got a tree yet, never mind food shopping, baking, or present wrapping. The only thing I’m ahead on is gift shopping thanks to the traditional Black Friday “it’s three weeks until Christmas and I’ve got nothing for anyone” panic and spending most of the day online shopping in the sales.’
‘You’ve never heard of gift vouchers?’
‘You can’t give people gift vouchers for Christmas! You’re supposed to think about what they’d like and put some thought and love into each gift.’
‘What if the thing they’d like is gift vouchers? Or cash?’
I make a noise of horror. ‘No! Cash is even worse. At least with a gift voucher, you’ve given some thought to a shop they might like.’
‘I clearly have a lot to learn,’ he says with a laugh. ‘So, it’s a deal then? I’ll help with your shop and you help me find some joy in the festive season?’
I rest my head against his gently again and nod.
He’s still holding our hands up and his fingers tighten around mine again. ‘It’s a deal. I’d say shake hands but we’re already shaking hands.’
‘We seem to do that a lot,’ I mumble.
He rests our joined hands back on his thigh but makes no move to detach himself. Instead his middle finger rubs mindless circles on the back of my hand. ‘So how does that work then, if your brother’s girlfriend doesn’t speak English?’
‘That remains to be seen.’
‘I’m not sure if he’s an idiot or a genius. Maybe my relationships would’ve been better if we hadn’t been able to communicate.’
‘Maybe mine would’ve been better if we had.’
He laughs a gentle laugh of sympathy that makes me feel more connected to him than our joined hands and his head on my shoulder.
I lose track of how long we sit there. Everything’s quieter than the normal after-closing hours of Nutcracker Lane because down here in the storage room, the noise of the weather outside is muted and the only sound is each other’s breathing, and for the first time in months, I’m just
