I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,110

something give inside her, something shift, as if a door stuck in the ajar position, in hope, had finally closed.

Luke pulled her towards him, his arms circled her. She felt a different shape, softer, more pliant than he remembered.

‘Don’t say no to thinking about adopting a child one day, Bridge. You’d make a fabulous mum.’

‘You think?’ said Bridge.

‘I really do think. Some kid like we were would be so lucky to have you loving them. Promise me you won’t rule it out.’

That hit her right in the chest cavity, bullseye in the heart. ‘Thank you, that means a lot,’ she said.

‘And thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you for being with me on part of my journey. Thank you for sharing plum tomatoes with me, throwing the broccoli at me, loving a dog with me, giving me the name Plant Boy and earning me enough to buy my gorgeous green Aston Martin.’ He felt Bridge laugh into his shoulder. ‘Thank you for it all. Be happy, Bridge.’

‘And you, Plant Boy,’ said Bridge.

They pulled apart, the gap between them small and at the same time as wide as a canyon.

He loved her still, a different love, a grateful love. The lazy gawky kid and the girl with fire for hair had burned each other up, and from the ashes came the people they were now. They were stepping stones in each other’s lives to the Bridge and Luke of today. A Bridge and Luke who didn’t belong together any more.

* * *

Radio Brian was grieving the end of Christmas.

‘Of course it isn’t over really until Twelfth Night, which is when you eat the last of the Quality Streets, the ones that you try and avoid when you’ve got a choice. In my case it’s the Coffee Cream but my wife always leaves the Peanut Cracknel.’

‘Blimey, it must be a while since they’ve had a tin,’ Robin commented. ‘Those flavours haven’t been around for years.’

‘…but I think most people these days wave goodbye to Christmas when Boxing Day is over and done with. The holiday adverts will be on the telly in a couple of days and I know that when we go shopping next, there will be Creme Eggs on the shelves. And did you know we have had them in our shops for twenty-three years?’ Brian went on.

‘Must be well over that,’ said Jack. ‘I remember buying them from the school tuck shop when I was ten and that’s twenty-five years ago.’

‘It’s starting to thaw out there,’ said Robin, standing by the window. He could see water drips making holes in the snow.

‘No signal yet though,’ said Mary, checking her mobile, which she’d left on the bar. The first chance it sparked into life, she would ring her brother, let him know she was okay. She picked up the landline phone, but it was still playing dead.

‘For anyone who needs to follow the snow, it’s heading to Scotland,’ said Radio Brian. ‘Night temperatures of five degrees are forecast for the area. I’ll put this record on for the last time because it’s one of my favourites. My wife and I have had such a lovely Christmas this year that I’d like it to go on for a bit longer. Thank you for listening. This is Radio Brian playing “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday”.’

A cash register sound, cow bells, children’s voices, those all too familiar lyrics.

‘Our last night together then, from the sounds of it,’ said Mary.

‘It’s been a blast,’ said Charlie, beaming. ‘Our past Christmases in Austria would take some beating, but this one has been my favourite of all time.’

Luke and Bridge came in from the kitchen half-walking, half-dancing, singing along to Roy Wood and Wizzard on the radio, carrying plates full of savouries, pickles, sandwiches and mince pies. Mary thought they both looked different somehow, smilier, lighter. They looked like friends.

* * *

They sat contentedly around the fire, tucking in to the last Christmas feast. Then Robin passed his phone around, asked them to tap in their addresses and numbers.

‘Looks like we’ll be going home tomorrow. Radio Brian has declared a thaw,’ Charlie informed Bridge and Luke, just as a large chunk of plaster fell off the wall above the fireplace.

‘I don’t think the inn wants us to leave,’ said Robin. ‘I think it likes us being here.’

‘And we all like the inn,’ said Bridge loudly, as if she was speaking to it directly. ‘It’s been a friend to us these past few days. It’s given us