Page 8 of Only Ever You

“Here—” Bash took her long, biscuit-coloured coat from her chair and held it open. She thanked him whilst slipping her arms into the sleeves.

Such gestures like those set her standards higher for a boyfriend – if she ever found time or compulsion to search for one again – with each simple sweet thing Bash ever did.

He zipped up his own padded jacket and together they said goodbye to the others.

When they reached the velvet studded doors, Bash turned to her. “I’ll walk you to a taxi.”

His end of day scruff roughened his look and his eyes were weary, but Bash insisted, always, on seeing she was safe. Faye had no ideawhywhen returning her home took them in the completely opposite direction to his house, other than that he’d always been a good friend.

She’d long ago figured out how to push away that ‘end-of-date’ feeling of anticipation when one walked the other home. Except, there were no end of night kisses upon her doorstep. No allowing herself to linger when they hugged.

Out on the wintry street, the rush of clear air swept away the cobwebs being crammed inside of the club had dusted her with. “Actually, do you mind if we walk for a while? I think all the noise and stuffy air has gone to my head.”

“Yeah, sure.” With a gentle nudge at her waist, Bash moved himself to walk on the side of the pavement nearest the road. He always did. Faye often tried to catch him out and surreptitiously swapped sides, only for them to end up exactly as they always were.

Illuminated beneath the tinsel and Christmas lights, they wandered. With cars and sirens and horns blaring like a melodious backdrop, the soggy scent of freshly rained on tarmac and pavement didn't ever change.

A hen party stumbled out of a club whilst a stag party stumbled in,and as the groups crossed, Faye caught a few sparks of attraction and minds double back on which direction they wanted to go.

“Have your Dad and Ruth left for their usual Christmas getaway yet?” Bash pulled her back to the reality of his warmth beside her; heavy and blanket-like without touch.

“Not yet. They leave on Sunday.”

With Morris Whittaker’s only daughter (akaher) grown up and childless, he and his wife, Ruth, usually disappeared for theChristmas period. Faye didn’t quite know what they were running from, or eventowards, but she’d never stop them from having their fun. And in truth, she was thirty percent jealous of their loved-up getaways.

Okay,forty. But what did that matter?

“Did you say they’re going on a Norwegian cruise?” Bash huddled closer as a pair of passers by took up more space than necessary on the path and forced them over away from the road.

He didn’t distance himself once those pavement hoggers were behind them, their steps in unison as he slowed his longer stride. Every tiny brush of their coat sleeves made Faye want to be dancing in his arms again.

“This time, yes. Last year was the Caribbean, and I’m sure they’ve already booked Australia for next year.”

See? She wasn’t jealous at all …

Coincidentally, her mum and step-father were also away for Christmas this year for an anniversary celebration, so for once Faye was all on her own for the season. Except for her step-sister, Ellie, that was. She didn’t mind it when her childhood Christmases had been such a catastrophic disaster.

As an adult now, she valued the peace. There would be video calls and photographs – celebrations delayed until the new year. And she had her bakery and friends to keep her busy in the meantime.

The streetlights and building fronts were just bright enough for Faye to see the murky puddle she hopped over. With a glint in his eyes both surprised and stunned, Bash’s gaze swept down to her boots and back up again, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Wouldn’t you ever like to go with them?” he asked next.

Would she like to go on a two week getaway with no worries or stress or demands of her job? Did he even need to ask?

“I’d love to.” Though Faye’s enthusiasm didn’t quite transverse to what she said next. “But it’s their thing.” She wrapped her coat further around her now the feverish feeling of being in an oven inSamuel’sworeoff. “I love my Dad – and Ruth of course – but I’d be a third wheel to their party.”

Bash noticeably dug his hands further into his pockets as he sauntered, clearly in no rush to go home. “You never know, next year you might have someone you could take with you.”

“Is that an offer?” Bemused, Faye tried not to notice how far they’d walked, or how many available taxis they’d already ignored.

But the idea of Bash coming with her on one of these hypothetical holidays was kind of fun – afriendshipkind of situation. Totally normal for two people who weren’t dating to do, right?

“No …” Bash dragged on the word with a lopsided smile that made up for Faye’s there-and-gone disappointment for his answer. “I was just saying … ”

She hummed as she thought about what it was he’d originally said. “I’d like to do that sort of thing one day; pack my bags and leave with someone for a couple of weeks. It’d be nice.”

Though unlikely.

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