Page 68 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
Ben smiles, then he leans into kiss me at the same time as a choir outside the hospital begin to sing carols.
‘Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the Feast of Stephen
When the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gathering winter fuel.’
‘“When the snow lay round about”,’ Ben says. ‘It rarely snows these days in London. Yet it always snows on Mistletoe Square during Estelle’s stories. I wish it would snow this year at Christmas.’
‘Me too.’ I snuggle into his embrace as he pulls me even closer. ‘What harm would a little bit of snow be, and how much happiness would it bring to so many?’
When we finally return to the house later, we find Angela already cooking dinner. Tonight she’s dressed more casually again in black baggy dungarees, a loose pink sweatshirt, big lace-up boots, and a pink-and-black polka-dot scarf tied in a bow on top of her head.
Neither Ben nor I feel all that hungry after our late lunch, but we don’t want to upset Angela, so we sit down to dinner with her and Estelle, and try our best to look like we’re enjoying the roast chicken, potatoes and vegetables that Angela has prepared.
But we clearly don’t do a good enough job of pretending.
‘Is anything wrong?’ Angela enquires, watching us both carefully. ‘You don’t seem all that hungry tonight?’
I look across at Ben. He shrugs.
‘Actually, we had quite a late lunch,’ I admit, my cheeks flushing. ‘I’m so sorry, Angela. It’s nothing to do with your cooking. It’s delicious.’
‘As it always is,’ Ben adds.
‘We had a lot to talk about earlier,’ I continue. ‘And doing it over a meal seemed like the best idea at the time. We should have thought about you back here cooking for us.’
‘Yes,’ Ben says. ‘We should have. It was my fault. I upset Elle, and I needed to do some serious grovelling. So I took her to one of my favourite restaurants. So sorry, Angela.’
Angela still looks a little put out, but Estelle looks pleased as punch. She casts Angela a warning look.
‘I can see that the two of you have made up since,’ Estelle says, looking keenly between us both. ‘Which is all that matters, isn’t it, Angela?Angela.’
Angela nods hurriedly. ‘Yes, of course it is. I’m pleased you had a good time together.’
‘We did.’ Ben takes my hand in his. ‘I think we both understand each other a little better now. Don’t we, Elle?’
‘Definitely.’
As I glance around the table, I see that both Estelle and Angela are now smiling just as much as we are.
‘And so we move on in our Christmas stories. This time to 1962,’ Estelle says a little later as she sits and waits for the moon to shine onto tonight’s chosen decoration on the Christmas tree.
‘The swinging sixties this time – cool!’ Ben says, grinning.
‘Please be quiet while we wait for the moon, thank you, Ben.’ Estelle sounds like a teacher admonishing a student.
‘Sorry,’ Ben murmurs while I grin at him.
