‘I hear you there … well, maybe not on the Prince Charming front, but on the relationships bit. How do you ever trust anyone again? Not even just relationships. It totally changed the way I saw everything. It made me feel like everyone’s out for themselves and their own gain. I don’t trust anyone now.’
I think about the guy half-asleep on my sofa the other night, letting me hold the fingers of his broken arm. The guy who lets me hug him despite being bruised from head to toe. How open and uninhibited he can be sometimes. ‘I think you do. I think you just put up a massive front to stop yourself getting hurt. Like your Grinch side. Disengaging from all things festive is a way of shutting yourself off. Another wall up between you and the world …’ I trail off as I realise I’ve just completely psychoanalysed him, firstly without permission, and secondly when I don’t even know him well enough to know what his favourite colour is. ‘Sorry, James, I had no right to—’
‘I see behind your mask too, you know.’ He sounds gentle and caring, and when I finally look up, he gives me a soft smile. ‘I think you’re lonely but you put on a happy, breezy front and pretend you’re okay. You still hold out hope for a relationship but tell yourself you don’t so you won’t be disappointed. You have all those romantic Christmas movies on your TV box because you still believe in love and you want that happily-ever-after to happen to you but you’re too scared to put yourself out there in case it actually does.’
‘No, I’m scared in case it actually does and then it goes wrong.’ I try to ignore the quiver at the thought of how well he can see through me. ‘Besides, those movies are an escape. They don’t actually happen, they’re just fantasy, like Santa Claus or wishes on magical nutcrackers.’
He snorts. ‘Throwing myself into Nutcracker Lane this year has been good for me. The people there are good. Kind and genuine. They’ve welcomed me like an old friend. Invested their time and money and energy into making Nutcracker Lane special. And it is special. A real community. I’ve never had anything like that to believe in before, but seeing how much you love it, how much it means to everyone there … it’s enough to make me believe in magic again.’
I swallow so hard that he must’ve been able to hear it. ‘And in love?’
‘Oh, Nia, I don’t get it.’ He pipes bricks onto the chimney. ‘I want to fall in love with someone – one person – and take on the rest of our lives together as a team. If there are problems, I want to be in it together with someone. I want to believe there’s someone out there somewhere who was made for me forever. I want to wake up with someone every morning for the rest of my life and not worry that she’s going to get fed up of me and find someone better. I want someone who’ll be there for the good times and the bad. I want to know without a second thought that there’s always someone who’s got my back and for someone to feel that about me too. I want to be someone’s favourite person, the first person they call if something happens – good or bad. I want to share every moment of my life with one person. Someone who’ll do a celebratory dance with me or … hold my hand in a hospital waiting room.’
He still doesn’t look up from his icing. ‘The magic of love is in the security of it. Anyone can go on dating apps and hook up, but aren’t we all searching for that one special person? An other half? A half you didn’t realise was missing until the first time you saw them?’
Maybe he really is a nutcracker come to life because I’m pretty sure he’s too perfect to be real. The answer to a magical Christmas wish is a more likely explanation than him actually being this perfect. He says everything I’ve always thought about love but never allowed myself to believe might be possible.
‘What are you doing over Christmas?’ I ask to distract myself and cover this weird tension between us because I don’t think the cherries were supposed to be chopped with quite this much fervour.
‘Working?’ he says like it’s a trick question. ‘After the shop shuts, I’m straight back to my regular job.’
‘Without even having a break?’
‘Even less of a break this year. I’ll have been away for a month by that time. I’ll have even more catching up to do.’
That familiar feeling of my stomach dropping hits me again. It’s so cut and dried. He’s gone as soon as Nutcracker Lane closes for Christmas. That’s it, over. ‘Christmas is the only time of year that I do have a few days off. No working, no crafting, no online orders or customising bespoke stuff or packing products up to post. Just watching TV and eating too much. That’s one of your tasks for this year, Grinch. You have to have a break. No work. Don’t even get out of your pyjamas. Just curl up in front of the TV and eat cheese and chocolate. Not together. Well, unless you’re into that sort of thing, but I can’t see it working.’
I’ve gone off on a chocolate-and-cheese-related tangent because what’s
