I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,88
then. ‘I remember my mother buying me a pair of wellingtons, bright red ones, just so that we could go sploshing in mud together.’ A loaded sigh. ‘What a fabulous woman she was. I wonder if she’s up there wait—’
Robin cut him off, he didn’t want to hear it.
‘She’ll be shouting down, Pick a carol you naughty boy and get on with it because Robin is freezing his Jacksons off. So what will it be? “The Little Drummer Boy”? “In the Bleak Midwinter”?’
‘Something jolly, not a dirge,’ said Charlie.
‘ “Away in a Manger”?’
‘Do I look three?’
‘No but you act it mostly.’
Charlie flapped his hand at Robin in mock exasperation. ‘ “Deck the Halls” then.’
‘I only know the fa-la-la-la-laaa bit.’
Inspired by the snow everywhere, Charlie clicked his fingers, began to sing, confident this was the one. Robin knew it, everyone did.
‘White Christmas’. Charlie’s voice, Matt Monro-mellow, nailing notes with a precision that Luke could only dream of. On the repeat, Robin attempted a harmony, easy enough though he’d never done it before, secured it. He figured he’d heard the song so many times, the score had been imprinted on his brain. Flawless.
They both held the final note, then Charlie made a cutting gesture and they let it float away on the snowflakes.
‘Ah,’ said Charlie. ‘I think we’ve won.’
‘Hands down,’ said Robin. He opened his arms and Charlie walked into them.
‘I love you,’ he said.
‘Ooh, twice in one day. I am honoured,’ said Charlie.
‘Don’t,’ said Robin, squeezing him tighter.
‘And I love you. And this has been the best white Christmas in history.’
Robin took his dear face between his chilled hands and kissed him.
‘Love of my life,’ he said.
‘Love of my life,’ Charlie said back to him.
A prick of tears behind Robin’s eyes, a sign to go in before he broke down completely, dissolved into the snow at his feet, in the air.
Charlie pushed open the door and he and Robin were met by a rapturous round of applause. Mary was wiping her eyes surreptitiously, but there wasn’t a lot that got past Charlie.
‘That was perfection,’ said Bridge. ‘I think it’s safe to say you two aren’t doing the coffees.’
Charlie gave a deep bow as Robin dropped a curtsey.
‘I thought our bell was inspired,’ said Luke, feigning hurt.
‘Yes, it inspired everyone to vote us last, you bellend,’ said Bridge, presuming that’s where they were on the leader board.
‘Come on then, Bridge. Let’s get started. We can’t be brilliant at everything.’
In the kitchen Luke tipped some beans into the fancy-dancing coffee machine and checked the water level, while Bridge busied herself getting out some mugs. She spooned some brandy butter into a dish, switched on the grill to warm up the mince pies. They’d been home-baked by someone and there were old metal biscuit tins full of them.
‘I am actually hungry enough to eat more than one of these,’ she confessed. ‘How can that be?’
‘A renewed appetite for food signifies a renewed appetite for life, that’s what my spiritual guru always says.’
‘You have a spiritual guru?’ asked Bridge, as a picture of Luke in a kaftan, folded into the lotus position shot through her brain.
‘I’m joking, Bridge. I have no idea. If you’re hungry, maybe it’s your body telling you to eat. People don’t listen to their bodies when they cry out for attention, but they should.’
‘Aren’t they more likely to cry out for water or nutrition than mince pies?’ she asked with a slight note of scoffing in her voice.
‘Maybe your body is crying out for what mince pies represent: laughter and company and warmth.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Bridge and unpeeled the plastic wrapper from a packet of After Eights. But it wasn’t bollocks, it was right on the money.
‘Have you planned your wedding yet?’ asked Luke.
‘Well seeing as my first one was… low-key, I thought maybe Chatsworth House this time. The full works. Champagne reception, five-course meal, lots of bridesmaids, white dress…’
She waited for him to make a comment about that but he didn’t even look tempted to.
‘Fixed a date yet?’ he asked.
‘Not much point fixing a date when you’re still married to your husband,’ answered Bridge with a humph. ‘Why, have you and Carmen?’
She presumed he’d say they were going to fly off to the Maldives or Hawaii as soon as the decree absolute came through. He was loaded now so it was bound to be a showy affair. They’d probably get a dolphin to swim up the beach to deliver the rings to the priest. But he surprised her.