Page 61 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘I saw you doing that. Good idea. But I don’t think either of us really thought Estelle and Angela would drug us, did we?’
‘No. That’s the thing, they’re both so lovely. I can’t imagine them ever doing anything untoward.’
‘And yet here we both are, apparently travelling back in time every night.’
‘We’re not really travelling back to those times, though, are we? It’s just an incredibly real way Estelle has of telling us her stories.’
‘A bit too real on occasions. Remember that smell in the kitchen of the Victorian house?’
‘Yes, I thought you were going to throw up!’
‘I wasn’t that bad.’
‘I think you were. The stories become so real then, don’t they? Like we’re actually there.’
‘But we’re not there, are we? We can’t be. And remember,’ Ben lets go of my hand while he demonstrates, ‘we’ve both tried to touch things, but our hands just go straight through them. Like you suggested before, it’s like we’re in some incredibly good virtual reality game, but without the goggles.’
‘You say that, and yet there’s been a few occasions when I’ve felt the people in the stories might actually know we’re there, or at least sense it.’
‘Like when Estelle brushed past her old self just now?’
‘Yes, and then there’s been mirrors people look into and see something other than their reflections, and remember when Belle heard you say the name Ebenezer to Charles Dickens.’
‘Yeah, I’m still not sure about that one, to be honest,’ Ben says, remembering. He sighs. ‘I’m not a huge believer in stuff like this, Elle, but it’s almost like we become ghosts when we’re viewing these stories. Some people are more sensitive to stuff like that, aren’t they?’
‘But we’d have to be ghosts from the future,’ I say, thinking about his theory. ‘Ghosts usually come from the past. Unless it’s inA Christmas Carol. The ghosts come from all times then, don’t they? Past, present and future.’
Ben considers this. ‘If we’re going down that path then we’d be more like Scrooge than the ghosts. We’re the ones being shown all this by Estelle and Angela. Crikey!’ he suddenly exclaims.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘If we’re Scrooge, that would mean I’m doing the same thing as my namesake being shown all these Christmases! Which makes this whole thing even weirder. What on earth have we got ourselves into here, Elle?’
‘I really don’t know,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘But I have to admit, I’m secretly quite enjoying it now I’ve got used to it, aren’t you?’
Ben grins. ‘Too right I am. But not nearly as much as I’m enjoying spending time with you.’ He takes hold of my hand again.
‘Flattery will get you … everywhere!’ I look up and flutter my eyelashes like a heroine in a silent movie.
‘I do hope so,’ he whispers, kissing the back of my hand. He then begins to kiss delicately along my arm and up the side of my neck. My eyes close with pleasure.
I’m about to turn to him so it’s our lips that are touching, when a voice calls out.
‘I’ve got Estelle settled now. So I’m just going upstairs to soak my feet, my corns are playing havoc with— Ooh la la! So sorry! Pretend I was never here!’ And the door closes as Angela quickly backs out of the room.
Ben sighs.
‘The thought of Angela’s feet put you off, has it?’ I ask, grinning.
‘Bit of a passion killer.’ Bens grimaces. ‘What do you reckon – separate rooms tonight?’ he asks, not hiding the disappointment in his voice.
‘Maybe that’s best for the time being. You’ll have your house back soon. Maybe I can pop round and bring some festive cheer one evening? I mean, it is nearly Christmas.’
Ben smiles. ‘Suddenly I’m finding myself even keener for Christmas to arrive this year.’
‘That’s funny,’ I reply, leaning forward to kiss him. ‘So am I.’
Seventeen
