Page 83 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘No, I don’t think so. How could Angela have run her hand over these and not felt the heat?’
Ben gently dabs his hand at the silver. ‘Blimey! They are piping hot. She must have hands like asbestos. Here.’ He grabs a cloth that Angela has left for us and lifts the lid with it. ‘Wow, this looks as good as it smells,’ he says on discovering tasty-looking sausages and crispy bacon underneath. ‘I really think we should eat this, Elle. Angela will be most offended if we don’t.’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ I say a little reluctantly, lifting a china plate from the side. But I’m still concerned about Angela. Why did she react so emotionally to the silverware, and how come she didn’t burn her hand on it? But Ben is already peeking underneath at what the other cloches hide.
‘So,’ I ask brightly, not wanting to spoil his birthday breakfast. ‘What’s under the others?’
After Ben and I have tucked into a huge and totally delicious cooked breakfast, we sit at the table trying to recover from the feast we’ve just devoured, while we sip on refreshing glasses of orange juice.
‘That is one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had.’ Ben lifts his glass. ‘Compliments to the chef!’
‘I’m so full,’ I say, holding my tummy. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to eat again until Christmas Day.’
‘Speak for yourself!’ Ben grins. ‘Now, would you like your birthday gift?’
‘Should I?’
‘Why not? It’s your birthday, isn’t it?’
‘I wish I had something for you too,’ I say, feeling pretty awful I hadn’t got him anything.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Ben says with a wave of his hand. ‘There’s been a lot going on over the last few days.’ He gets up and heads over to the Christmas tree, hesitating as he looks at the two gifts. ‘I was in two minds which to give you for your birthday and which to give you for Christmas,’ he says, picking up the larger gift, which is wrapped in birthday paper. ‘But hopefully I’ve got it right.’
He walks back over to me and hands me the box-shaped present. ‘Happy birthday,’ he says. ‘May it be the first of many we spend together.’
‘Yes, I really hope so,’ I tell him, meaning it. I may have arrived in Mistletoe Square hating Christmases, birthdays and, above all, men. But one by one, I seem to have fallen in love with all of them again.
I lower my eyes from Ben’s to run my hands over the pretty paper my gift is wrapped in. ‘Gorgeous paper. Very similar to the William Morris wallpaper this room was decorated with in 1918.’
Ben nods. ‘I hoped you’d notice that.’
Carefully, I prise open the paper. ‘It’s too beautiful to rip,’ I explain.
‘I should have given you the paper,’ Ben says, looking a little uneasy. ‘I’m not sure what’s inside will produce the same reaction. It seemed a good idea at the time, though.’
I look up at him, wondering what he means. But then I look down again as the paper falls away to reveal what’s inside.
‘It’s a box,’ I say, pulling a burgundy box decorated in an ornate Victorian style from the remains of the gift wrap. ‘It’s lovely.’
‘That’s only the gift box. Open it up.’
I lift the lid on the box and gasp when I see what’s inside. There’s a familiar face smiling up at me from the box.
‘I knew it was a stupid idea,’ Ben says when I don’t speak. He rushes over towards the tree again. ‘Look, have your Christmas present now instead. That’s much better.’
‘No, Ben. Wait,’ I say quietly. ‘It can’t be.’
Ben pauses halfway across the sitting room and turns around. ‘It can’t be what?’
‘Better than this,’ I say, lifting my gift from its box. I hold it out in front of me, and then I hug it to my chest.
Ben has bought me one of the teddy bears I looked at in the department store. The same bear I told him I always wanted as a child, but never got.
‘You like it, then?’ Ben asks, still tentative.
‘Like it? I love it! Ben, you don’t know what this means to me. Really you don’t.’
‘When you said you’d always wanted one, I knew … no, I hoped I couldn’t go wrong.’
