Page 67 of Just for December

‘I suppose,’ he says, and then holding out a hand. ‘For the cameras?’ he asks. She slips an ungloved hand into his. His skin will keep her warm. She puts her other hand into her pocket.

‘Daphne said something about your mom being unwell – is everything okay?’ she asks, relishing the breadth of him, how safe it feels to be guided by his sure footing.

‘Relapse,’ he says, gruffly, looking out over the fields with a squint. ‘It happens,’ he adds.

Evie nods. ‘I’m sorry, Duke,’ she says. ‘I know it’s not easy for anyone.’

‘No,’ he says, and he almost looks at her then, before seemingly changing his mind. ‘My aunt went over and helped her. We got her into a good clinic where she can get some help for the next thirty days, so she’s safe. I’ll go over in January and see how she’s doing.’

‘That’s good,’ Evie says, softly. She tries to catch his eye again, tries to find the Duke she knows, that common ground. The Duke who couldn’t wait to meet her, and paid a kid to go get them hot chocolate when he thought she was interested in somebody else, and was kind to her when she was upset about her own mother.

‘I don’t know if you heard,’ she presses, wondering if a different conversational tack might help. ‘But a couple more of my books got optioned because of the press from all this, so … thanks for getting me out here in the first place. I don’t think I’ve ever formally said that.’

‘You haven’t,’ Duke says. ‘But I’m glad I was of use to you.’

Evie doesn’t get what he means. ‘I mean thanks for more than just the book sales, you know. Thanks for … everything. All of this. You knew what I needed when I didn’t. I’m grateful. I … care about you,’ Evie says.

‘I’m sure you do,’ Duke counters, and it’s colder than the weather, the way he says it.

Evie hears theclick click click,then, the sound she’s become so accustomed to. Sure enough, Clive is on the path behind them, stood off to one side so as not to get in their way and keep everything as natural-looking as possible. Duke hears it too, looks back, looks at Evie, and then pulls her in close so that they’re stood facing each other. As he pushes her hair from her face like he might kiss her, he says: ‘This has been useful for everybody. Let’s call a spade a spade.’

She feels the touch of his fingertips on her cheek, smoothing out her hair to her ear. She could melt at the feel of him, physically melt, right there, into a puddle.

But it’s all for show.

This fauxmance! Whose idea was it anyway? She just wants him to kiss her, and mean it. And, honestly, she might have orchestrated this, but she wants the cameras to bugger off so they can talk properly. What kind of grown man spends his life stalking people with a camera anyway? It’s disgusting,even if Duke says it is part of the game. It shouldn’t be. She wishes Clive would just disappear into a cloud of paparazzi smoke.

‘Duke …’ she says, readying to make some bold declarations, and then there’s a scream that chills her blood.

Duke pulls away, looks back to where Clive had been stood, and then runs to look over the edge of the steep hill.

‘Jesus!’ he says, and he disappears, then, over the hill as well, and Evie runs. She can’t see them, can’t see either of them. It’s all just white, white, snow, and then she hears a voice shout up from down below, somewhere in amongst the trees, ‘Evie! Call an ambulance! Clive has fallen!’ and she sprints, as fast as she can, back to the others.

‘Evie,’ Magda says, in a low voice, that night at the hotel. ‘There’s a very hot man staring at you. Evie!’

Evie looks up into a pair of twinkling baby blues, a strong-set jaw and a wide smile.

‘I was trying to decide if it was you,’ he says, smiling.

‘Markus!’ Evie exclaims. ‘Oh my gosh, what are you doing here!’

Evie introduces Markus to Magda, who says she can’t believe that they met in some random gas station, back in the snowstorm, and are now in the same place at the same time again.

‘My sister,’ Markus says. ‘She runs the hotel.’

‘And a great job she’s doing too! It’s fantastic here,’ Magda enthuses, and Evie would recognise that look on her face anywhere. She’s flirting. The woman can turn it on like a light switch.

‘How long have you been staying here?’ Markus asks. ‘Do you need anything? Drinks? Some food?’

Magda flicks her hair off her shoulder and smiles, holding deliberate andsmoulderingeye contact.

‘Well, aren’t you a gentleman,’ she says, and Evie has to give it to her, she’s not backwards about being forward.

Markus laughs. ‘I do my best,’ he says, and he doesn’t look away. Evie suddenly feels like a third wheel, like she’s intruding on something private. She waits for them to stop mooning, but that moment never comes. They’re just stood, smiling, not saying anything, not even the smallest bit shy that they’re each undressing the other with their sexy eyeballing. How do people do that? Just decide they’re hot for somebody and then make it so clearly known? The confidence of it! It chills Evie to the bone. She’d no sooner put herself out there with such abandon than she’d shave her head and ask people to start greeting her with the name Moonshine.

‘Oooookay then,’ Evie says, not even sure if they can hear her. ‘I was actually just about to take a walk to stretch my legs, if you don’t mind.’

‘I don’t mind.’ Magda grins, looking at Markus.

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