Page 49 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
Last night when Ben and I both climbed the stairs and said goodnight to each other, there was a slightly awkward moment when we both walked towards our own rooms realising they weren’t that far from each other.
I wondered if Angela would make Ben up a bed in one of the spare rooms on the next floor, or if she’d use the empty bedroom close to mine. It seemed she chose the latter.
‘I see we’re neighbours here as well,’ Ben said as he paused by his door. ‘Sleep well, won’t you?’
‘And you. Goodnight, Ben.’
‘Goodnight, Elle.’
Then I went into my room and attempted to spend the next two hours not thinking about Ben, while trying desperately to get some sleep.
It was so hard not to think about him. Aside from the fact we were both experiencing something incredibly strange yet wonderful together when we listened to Estelle’s stories. There was something even stranger going on, something I couldn’t yet understand. I felt like I had a connection with Ben that went far deeper and felt much stronger than simply knowing him for a few days should. And I got the feeling that Ben felt the same way.
‘Ugh,’ I grumbled as I turned over in bed yet again. ‘Why does my new neighbour have to be quite so lovely, and quite so handsome? I’m supposed to be staying away from men.’
But as much as I tried to pretend to myself that I didn’t want Ben anywhere near me, I was secretly very glad that he was now by my side during Estelle’s trips into the past.
‘Are you not taking breakfast with us, Angela?’ Ben asks now as Angela places two plates of eggs, bacon, sausages and beans on the table in front of us.
‘No, dear, I had breakfast ages ago,’ Angela says, heading towards the door, ‘Early riser, me, aren’t I, Elle? Even on a weekend. You two enjoy.’ And she leaves us to eat our breakfast alone.
‘We weren’t that late up, were we?’ Ben lifts a coffee pot and pours us both a cup. ‘Not for a Saturday.’
‘No, but it did take me quite a while to fall asleep last night, so I needed a bit of a lie-in this morning.’
‘Funny that – me too,’ Ben says, smiling at me. ‘Anything in particular on your mind?’
I can’t help but smile back. That’s another thing about Ben. Not only do I feel so at ease with him, but he makes me feel happy too. And only now am I starting to realise just how much I needed some real happiness in my life again. ‘Just thoughts of suffragettes and Spanish flu really … ’ I grin.
‘Same!’ Ben winks as he tucks into his breakfast. ‘Mmm, this is great! Just how I like it – runny eggs and really crispy bacon.’
‘Me too. I can’t be doing with barely cooked bacon and overcooked eggs. This is spot on.’
‘So, what are you up to today?’ Ben asks. ‘I assume there won’t be any story time until tonight? Estelle seems to need the magic of the moonlight to tell her stories by.’
‘Yes, that’s usually what happens. Most of the time I have the day to myself and then the magic begins after dinner. I’m not sure what I’m going to do actually. Probably write up my notes on what Estelle told us last night about her mother and father.’
‘Estelle clearly adored her mother,’ Ben says. ‘Not so keen on her father, was she?’
‘No, it didn’t seem like it. I wonder if something else happened she hasn’t told us about yet?’
‘Probably. Do you have a good relationship with your parents?’ Ben asks, reaching for some more ketchup.
‘It’s okay,’ I reply carefully. ‘What about you?’
‘Never knew them,’ Ben says, matter-of-factly. ‘I was adopted.’
‘Oh.’ For some reason I’m surprised to hear this and wonder how best to respond. ‘I’d say I’m sorry, but sometimes people have great relationships with their adoptive parents. Better than they might have had with their real parents. Was that the case for you?’
‘Yeah, my adoptive parents are great. I never knew my real mother or father.’
I’m about to ask if he’s ever tried to trace his parents but, before I can, Ben changes the subject.
‘You know, I don’t have much on today either. I’ve finally got hold of a plumber this morning and he says it’s likely he won’t be able to come until tomorrow at the earliest – and that will be on emergency rates because it’s a Sunday. So unless I want to spend the day doing tedious paperwork, I really need to think of something much more entertaining to do.’ He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘Perhaps we could do something together?’
‘I’d like that,’ I say a little shyly. ‘What would you like to do?’
‘Something Christmassy,’ Ben says. ‘I’ve avoided thinking about it too much this year. But now it’s only days away, it feels like something’s changed and I really want to get into the festive spirit. Does that seem silly?’
