Page 25 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘Is there a problem in that?’
‘No, not at all. Funnily enough, I’m doing the exact same thing.’
‘Are you?’ I ask, surprised to hear this. ‘Do you have people coming to you?’
Ben shakes his head. ‘Nope, it’s just me this year.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say automatically, a tinge of sadness to my voice. ‘Apologies,’ I hurriedly add when I realise what I’ve done. ‘I didn’t mean to sound like it was a bad thing. If you want to spend Christmas on your own, that’s your choice of course.’
‘It’s fine.’ Ben shrugs. ‘No apology necessary. I’ve just had a fairly major relationship break-up. That was partly why I moved here to the square. I suddenly found myself needing a place to work and live, and this was perfect. Came at just at the right time.’
Interesting. Like it did for me …
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I say, meaning it. ‘Break-ups can be tough. Really tough.’
‘You sound like you know what I’m talking about?’
‘Yeah … a similar thing happened to me recently. I was very nearly spending Christmas on my own too, until I came here.’
Ben and I gaze silently at each other for a moment, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as me. There are a lot of similarities in our situations. We might have more in common than I first thought.
‘Where did you get your coffee?’ Ben asks suddenly. ‘I quite fancy one myself. Maybe we could drink it together on that bench over there and compare tales of heartbreak?’
‘Er … ’ This is the last thing I feel like doing right now. I’ve been trying very hard to keep my personal problems under wraps since I came to Mistletoe Square. I like to think I’ve locked the whole sorry tale somewhere in the depths of Estelle’s basement so I don’t have to think about it any more, let alone discuss it with a stranger, even if he is my new neighbour.
But Ben’s face suggests he really needs someone to talk to right now. ‘Sure,’ I reply as brightly as I can. ‘The coffee place is just over there.’ I point to the corner of the square where my vendor was.
‘Is it good?’ Ben asks. ‘I’m quite particular about my coffee.’
‘Yes, it is actually. They do marshmallows and cream and stuff if you like that sort of thing?’
‘Nah, I like it just as it comes. None of this festive nonsense on top.’
I smile and hold up my cup. ‘Me too.’
‘Would you like another?’
‘I’m good, thanks. Still got most of this one.’
‘Of course, you didn’t spill any when you carelessly knocked me over, did you?’ He winks. ‘I’ll go and grab a cup and I’ll be right back.’
While Ben jogs off, I sit down on one of the benches that are dotted about the garden and sip my coffee, waiting for him to return.
Mistletoe Square really is timeless. If it wasn’t for the constant hum of central London on the other side of the buildings, and the occasional vehicle driving around the square, or aeroplane flying overhead, the houses, railings and ornate black gas lamps could easily be dropped into any era and you wouldn’t immediately be able to identify what year you were in.
Nothing about this square has probably changed all that much since Celeste, Edith, Beth and Nora lived here. I wonder what they’d make of it now if they could see it as I do. Just as I saw a tiny part of their life last night.
‘You looked completely lost in your thoughts just now,’ Ben says, as, coffee in hand, he sits next to me on the bench.
‘I was just thinking that this square probably hasn’t changed all that much since it was built in the eighteenth century.’
Ben looks around. ‘Yes, I think most of these features are probably original. Did you know a man from the gas board comes around to light these street lamps every night? Just like in the old days.’
‘Gosh, really? No, I didn’t know that.’
‘No, I’m kidding, they don’t do that any more. But someone comes every fortnight to maintain them – they have to be cleaned and their mechanisms have to be wound manually to allow their timer to work. There was someone doing it the day I moved in. That’s the only reason I know so much about it – he was very keen to share.’
I look up at the lamps. ‘I can imagine someone arriving to light them, though, can’t you? With a long pole or something similar. Perhaps they climbed up the posts to get to the light?’
