Merry Measure - Lily Morton Page 0,51

and easy. I wonder if that’s because we’ve known each other since we were kids, or because we make sense as a pair.

Twelve

Arlo

When we get outside, the weather has turned. The sunshine has been replaced with low-hanging clouds that are the grey-yellow colour that presages snow.

Jack buttons up his coat, and I settle his scarf around my neck. He’s never getting this back. I pull my beanie down over my hair and take his hand again when I’m done. He pulls me gently around and we set off through the park.

We pass the ice rink and pause to watch the skaters. “Fancy it?” he asks, his eyes alight with laughter.

“No, I really don’t think so,” I say, shaking my head. “Have you forgotten your birthday trip with Derek and Barbara when I was ten?”

He starts to laugh. “No, it’s engraved on my mind. I bring out the memory whenever I’m feeling sad.”

I repress a smile. “I can still remember your dad’s rousing speech about how everyone can skate. His teaching method consisted of taking me to the middle of the rink and leaving me there.” I shake my head. “I can principally remember the crawl back to the side and safety, as skaters hurdled me like I was part of an obstacle race.”

He laughs loudly, pausing to say breathlessly, “The absolute ire on your face.”

“Well, you’d have been jammed full of ire too,” I say, giving up the battle and starting to laugh too. “Especially as I then had to spend the evening skating with Derek while he itemised my shortcomings.”

That sets him off again, and I pull him away from the rink and over to a green and white striped kiosk that’s selling speciality hot chocolate. “Just right for this weather,” I say, smiling at him. His cheeks are berry-red from the cold and his eyes bright. I buy us two and hand his to him. He looks at the mountain of cream dubiously, and I shake my finger at him.

“Drink all of it, Jack. It’s good for you.”

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t.”

“It’s good for the soul,” I say. “Treating yourself is good for you.”

“I can tell you never grew up with Derek and Barbara.” He takes a cautious sip of the drink and makes a pleased sound that’s warmer than the chocolate. “God, that’s lovely.”

“Of course, it is. Life isn’t always serious, Jack. Take it from someone who grew up in the Wright house. My family could have given the Dalai Lama a lesson on being chilled.”

He eyes me. “You always seemed so happy, though.”

I take a sip of my own drink and nod approvingly. It’s delicious. “We were. You know my mum and dad aren’t your stereotypical meat-and-two-veg and church-on-Sunday people. But we grew up knowing we were fiercely loved. Our family’s always been a team.”

I fall silent because Jack never had that. He might have never experienced being picked up from senior school by my dad in an ancient Aston Martin blaring Carmen at top volume, but he equally never had the times where we’ve laughed until we cried. I have a sudden yearning to hug my mum and dad.

Jack smiles at me, and it’s sunny and as far from self-pity as possible. “I’m glad,” he says. He pauses in surprise as a flake of snow drifts down and lands on his hand.

“Snow,” I say delightedly, as more flakes drift down, landing like tiny, freezing kisses on my skin. Within seconds, it’s snowing heavily, the light growing dim.

I grab our empty cups and deposit them neatly in the bin. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s walk to my choice.”

“Is it cycling?” he asks.

I laugh. “You’re such an optimistic person. I think that cycling might be too much of a coordinated activity for me. I don’t think anyone in Amsterdam needs a multi-bike pile-up.”

We walk together hand in hand, the contact warm as snow falls around us like cold confetti. I dart my eyes greedily everywhere as we walk. Amsterdam has become like the setting of a Christmas card. We pass old houses with their windows glowing gold, and the ringing of bicycle bells sounds sweet and clear on the snowy air.

Eventually, we reach our destination. Jack stops at the sign and smiles. “The Vondelpark?”

“Yep. I want to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. What do you think?” I pause. “Is this okay?” I ask hesitantly.

He nods quickly. “It’s absolutely perfect. I can’t think of anything nicer after being inside all morning.”

“Let’s go then.” I tug