Chloe scrutinised her American friend’s face. “Wait, Jules, what’s going on with you?”
Jules tilted her head to the side and sighed. “I think it’s just … you know, it’s the middle of summer and all this talk about Christmas and winter … to be honest, it exhausts me.”
For Lucy, the penny finally dropped, and she uttered a guilty, “Oh.” She’d been so wrapped up in what she wanted.
“I mean, I love the holiday itself—well, no, that’s not even true anymore. And that time of year … it’s … well, I hate it! I hate being cold, I hate being snowed in, which seems to happen more and more. And yes, I love my family, but sometimes”—she threw up her hands—“they’re too much. I leave Christmas feeling like I need a vacation.”
Lucy couldn’t stand it any longer. “Jules, I’m so sorry. Here I am just going on and on about it.”
“Hey, no, it’s okay. I love that you love Christmas so much—both of you. It’s just not like that for me, not anymore. Honestly, Chlo, your orphans’ Christmas sounds amazing, especially the summer part. I’m actually jealous.”
Chloe’s large green eyes got even larger. “Oh, my god. That’s it. We should do like they did The Holiday and swap Christmases!” She let the thought hang in the air, watching her friends’ faces closely.
Jules’s sigh turned into a contemplative smile and Lucy’s mouth formed an O, then settled into a pout. “But wait, that means I’d be in America by myself.”
“But you’d get your white Christmas, Lucy,” prompted Chloe gently. “Just imagine …”
Jules, completely on board, picked up where Chloe left off. “And my mom would love it, Lucy. So would my dad. They’ll spoil you rotten, I promise.”
Lucy chewed her bottom lip and twisted a long red curl between her fingers. “Be brave, Lucy,” Chloe whispered. If Chloe had a soft spot, it was for Lucy.
Jules imagined herself on a beach in Australia at Christmas and willed Lucy to agree to their plan.
“You know what?” Lucy lifted her head and declared, “I want a white Christmas! Let’s do it. Let’s swap.” She grinned at her best friends.
“Yes!” Jules gave the air a little victory punch.
Chloe did a chair dance. “Ash!” she called over her shoulder, “we’re swapping Christmases—you get Jules.” She looked back at the screen. “Guys, this is going to be amazing!”
Chapter 5
Lucy
Lucy unfurled from the back seat of the Uber awkwardly, still seemingly unused to her long limbs, even though she’d stretched to five-foot-eleven at the precocious age of thirteen. Her eyes fixed on her handbag until she reminded herself that she didn’t need to pay for the ride.
The driver got out to retrieve her case from the boot. It was exactly twenty-three kilos—she’d weighed it on her digital scales in her bathroom—so he struggled with it a bit as he set it on the pavement.
A harried man brushed past her as she extended the handle and she offered an unnecessary apology, then turned to thank the driver, who waved a hand over his shoulder and grunted in reply.
All of a sudden, Lucy was rooted to the spot, a slow terror creeping up from her toes and burrowing in her stomach. What the sodding bollocks, Lucy? she asked herself. It was just a holiday to America. She’d been there several times on their ML holidays.
A family of four, each of them at least thrice her girth, bundled past. The girl, about eleven, rolled her eyes self-consciously at Lucy, a small act of solidarity as the girl silently apologised for her utterly embarrassing family.
Lucy found herself smiling. She was once that awkward tubby girl, horridly embarrassed by her parents, and mortified just to be seen in public. Eleven was such a terrible age.
To her delight, the girl grinned back. And it was just the fuel Lucy needed to quell her unfounded fears, grab the handle of her case and stride into the terminal to catch her plane.
*
Lucy emerged from the double glass doors and scanned the crowd. She’d never seen so many people waiting for passengers before, and she’d just left Heathrow.
The sharp twang of American accents permeated the air and the final scene from Love, Actually played out around her. Hugs, tears, grins, slaps on the back. It was impossible not to feel moved by it all—and just a touch of melancholy.
Her first Christmas abroad and being an only child, it was easy to feel the sting of remorse for leaving her parents at this time of year. It had always been just the three of them, with their own family rituals and traditional ways of doing things. As she scanned hundreds of faces searching for Will, Jules’s baby brother, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.
There.
He stood a head above the people around him with a shock of dark blond hair, exactly the same shade as Jules’s until she’d started highlighting it.
And he was unbelievably handsome.
Lucy wasn’t friends with Will on Facebook, but she’d had a quick look at his profile before getting on the plane so she’d recognise him. In his photo, he was cute, boyish, a male version of Jules, but this Will! This Will was a man. A very hot, very tall man.
Lucy gulped, then raised her hand above her head to catch his eye. When she eventually did, after some rigorous waving and yoo-hooing, her knees nearly buckled. His eyes locked on hers and a grin spread across his face. He raised one hand in a greeting, then started making his way through the crowd to her. Lucy remained where she was and in moments, he was there looking down at her, the grin still intact. “Lucy?” he asked.
She nodded, gulped again, then finally found the ability to say, “Uh, yes. Hello,” which she followed up with, “Very nice to see you again.” Even when dumbstruck, which was more often than she liked,
