Page 76 of Just for December

‘Liar,’ Duke supplies. ‘If I don’t tell her what I’m scared about, as well as that I like her, it’s a half-truth.’

‘And how could anybody trust a half-truth?’ Daphne says.

‘Whenwewere together,’ Duke continues, ‘that’s what you were trying to tell me, weren’t you? When you said to be honest with you, I thought I was being honest because I wanted it to work so much … but I never told you about my mum, or my worries about all this, or my freaking nose job—’

‘It’s a great nose,’ Daphne offers. ‘I figured.’

‘Thank you,’ Duke says, temporarily off-track. He considers all this. ‘Evie knows all those things,’ he says. ‘She just doesn’t know this one last piece of the puzzle.’

‘And what’s that?’ Daphne asks, smiling.

‘That I’ve fallen in love with her,’ he says, simply. ‘I’m scared I don’t deserve her and have spent years – decades – thinking I don’t deserve love at all, not unless I’m perfect, and that’s why I don’t let the mask slip … but I am done. I am so, so done. She’s seen more of me than anybody. I want to be with her, Daphne. I want her, and me, and warts and all, just to see. Just to know what it’s like to really, truly try.’

‘Well then,’ Daphne says, her face serious. ‘I’ve only got one piece of advice.’

‘What’s that?’ asks Duke, desperately.

‘GO!’ she squeals. ‘Go! Go! Go!’

It’s not until the lift opens downstairs into the lobby that Duke realises he’s not wearing any shoes. When Daphne had dropped that Diet Coke it had spilled directly onto his Nikes, which had been annoying, yes – but then as Daphne went to pick it up and it exploded all over her, all was forgiven because Duke hadn’t laughed that hard and that long in ages. The way it happened in slow motion – she dropped it, it spilled, he kicked it slightly right as she went to pick it up, and how they both saw their paperwork and both laptops at the same time, Duke registering the look of sheer terror on her face as she sacrificed herself – and her clothes – in the name of preserving what they’d been doing. She gotcovered.All Duke had to do was take his socks off.

He’s about to hit the button to go right back up to the top floor to get some shoes when he sees her. She doesn’t see him, and so he doesn’t move except to stick out a hand to stop the lift door closing, staying glued to the spot as she stands chatting to Magda and that guy from the service station blizzard, Markus. Markus has his arm around Magda, and everyone is laughing, and then Markus gives Magda a kiss and leaves, the two women watching him go. Magda leans into Evie, giving affection easily, like women often do, and one of them says something that makes them both laugh. She’s incredible. Her tiny, short legs and baggy jumper and her hair piled on top of her head like an afterthought. Duke racks his brains for a killer opening line, for something to really capture her attention … but nada. Nothing. Then Magda spots him.

‘Duke!’ she cries, and Evie turns, looks at him, horrified, and then whispers something with her head bowed to Magda,who looks puzzled and then pulls her waving arm down in a hurry. She looks away too.

‘Evie,’ Duke starts, and that’s it, he’s walking through the hotel with nothing on his feet, right towards her, even though he can see that there’s nothing she’d like less right now – but she doesn’t understand, that’s all. She will do in just a second.

‘That was totally innocent,’ Duke says. ‘Honestly. You’ll laugh about this when I explain. You see—’

‘I don’t think she wants to hear this,’ Magda says, looking cautiously at her friend for confirmation.

‘Evie, please,’ Duke begs. ‘Just listen.’

‘Duke,’ Magda warns again, and she’s serious, holding his gaze, and it makes Duke’s blood freeze in his veins. Heaven have mercy on the man trying to fight a woman’s best friend – holy hell, she could control the weather with that glare. Duke gulps. He stops talking. They stay like that, in vignette of a pleading man, a scorned woman, and the friend protecting them both from each other with arms outstretched. He glances between Evie, who is gazing fixedly at the ground, to Magda, who is gazing past him, now, with her head tipped to one side, computing something. Her expression – focused, confused, doing some mental maths – makes Duke turn to see what she’s clocked, and it’s bloody Katerina, with her phone up to them.

Duke thinks of the improv games he’s played with acting coaches or on cast get-to-know-you afternoons over the years. It’s like the narrator has put them into a tableau, and they have to hold their pose. Then, when the narrator has issued new instructions, they say,Okay go,and everyone continues the movement they were captured in. Somebody must besayingokay goright now, because Evie turns, Duke and Magda see her clock Katerina, and then all at once the three of them are lunging towards her – Evie going for Katerina, Magda holding Evie back, Duke being, on reflection, not very helpful at all but generally flapping and flailing.

‘YOU!’ Evie screams at Katerina, who has entered her own freeze frame as the three bodies come towards her. She looks each one of them in the eye, then down at the floor, pulling her phone into her body like she couldn’t possibly have been doing anything wrong. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ Evie presses on. ‘You’re a freaking vulture. A vampire! Why the hell would you be taking our PICTURE?’

Evie reaches Katerina and seems to realise she doesn’t know what to do next. Duke thought she might go for her throat but she reins it back in, standing literally toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose, breathing like a dragon, waiting for Katerina to say something.

‘I wasn’t—’ Katerina starts, but Evie cuts her off with a sharp ‘NO’.

Duke is one side of her, at her shoulder, and Magda the other. It’s intimidating, and he can see that Katerina is cacking her pants at being confronted by them. Magda looks at Duke as if thinking the same thing and then says, quietly but firmly, ‘Let’s just take a breath, everyone.’

Evie steps back, not taking her eyes off Katerina for a second.

‘Speak,’ she instructs, harshly.

Katerina squeaks, like a mouse in a chokehold. Then a tear escapes.

‘For God’s sake,’ Magda says, under her breath, and it’s not totally unkind. Duke is struck by a sense of defeat,understands how pathetic Katerina must feel, because he’s been there. He’s had that realisation himself, confronting an unpalatable truth about how he’s behaved.We all screw up,he thinks,and Katerina knows this is her turn.

‘I needed the money,’ she says. ‘For my dad. For his care home.’

Magda and Duke automatically look to Evie.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Evie says, her mouth falling open. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. ‘Seriously?’

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