I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,39

she’d made a big enough impression to stay in the position.

‘I wondered if we’d pressured you to return to work too soon,’ said Jack.

‘You didn’t,’ said Mary. ‘I came back when I felt ready. I wasn’t going to rush my grief for anyone.’ Not even you.

‘Quite right too.’

Jack held out his hands to take the games from Mary. His gallantry jarred with the memory of that email now refreshed in her mind and words bubbled out of her mouth before she had time to slam on the brake.

‘Actually, I was proper annoyed to tell you the truth, Jack,’ she said.

‘I absolutely—’

‘If you’d told me my job was on the line because I was taking too long to grieve, I’d have told you to stuff it… where… the sun doesn’t shine.’

Jack’s mouth opened to reply, but she didn’t leave a breathing space for him to butt in.

‘Not even asking how I was, just Jack wants to know when you’ll be back… yes, if I’m honest… it flipping stung.’

So Kimberley hadn’t done as he’d asked. Not that it mattered, because he shouldn’t have delegated the task to a PA who wasn’t a patch on Mary.

‘Mary, I’m so dreadfully sorry. I asked Kimberley to stress there was no rush at all, but it was insensitive of me to even ask the question in the circum—’

‘Did you?’

‘Of course.’

Mary’s top lip curled in anger. That Kimberley really was a sort.

‘I see,’ said Mary. It made things slightly better, but yes, Jack should have sent the email himself. She would have done it, had the situation been reversed, and not relied on a snake in lipstick who had her own agenda.

‘You should have told me to stick my job. I would have deserved it,’ said Jack, contritely. Another small embarrassed smile. ‘It’s long overdue, but I’m sorry if that’s how Kimberley’s email came across, I really am. I have obviously no idea of how much you do for me in the office, but I know it’s a lot, because I notice you when you’re not there.’ As soon as the words were out, Jack wished he could have pulled them back into his mouth, rearranged them better. ‘I mean I—’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Mary, rescuing him once again because smoothing over stuff was instinctive, her forte, but his words rang like bells in the campanile of her skull. Notice you when you’re not there. That said it all, didn’t it.

Chapter 13

‘Ah, the big game hunters have returned to the fold,’ said Luke, who laughed at his own wordplay as Jack and Mary walked back into the lounge.

‘We have bingo, Buckaroo, cards, chess and draughts,’ said Mary, forcing out cheer when she felt like crumbling.

‘Wonderful,’ said Robin, whose stomach then grumbled loud enough for them all to hear.

‘I think that’s tantamount to a dinner gong,’ declared Charlie.

‘My turn to rustle up some grub for us, I think.’ Luke rubbed his hands together. ‘Any volunteers to help?’ He raised his eyebrows at Bridge who turned her head away in avoidance.

‘I’ll come,’ said Jack, brushing cobwebs from his sweater. He’d missed a long stringy one. Mary had an urge to dust it off, in the way Princess Margaret had once dusted a piece of lint from Group Captain Townsend’s jacket, thereby signalling to anyone with an ounce of gumption that she was in love with him. But Mary’s hand didn’t stray to Jack. She wished her heart would catch up with the brain that was playing those words over and over like a stuck record: Notice you when you’re not there. Notice you when you’re not there.

‘I’ll have a game of draughts with you in the meantime, Mary. Set them up,’ said Charlie. ‘Winner gets first choice of the chocolates that I’ll get out of my suitcase later.’

‘You sneaked chocolates into your suitcase?’ said Robin. ‘Think of your cholesterol levels!’

‘Oh, bugger off. And yes, I bought some, in case you didn’t buy me any,’ parried Charlie.

But Robin had. His favourites. From Patrick Roger in Paris, presently sitting in his suitcase, and he hoped that come Christmas morning, Charlie scoffed the lot, one after the other until he was full.

* * *

‘So you make vegan scones then, do you?’ said Luke to Jack, as they hunted through the pantry. ‘How do they taste?’

‘Very, very good,’ replied Jack. ‘We…’

Jack’s voice trailed off. He had a recollection of Mary standing by his desk. ‘Can I just say that I think veganism is going to be a booming business, and the