Page 14 of Make You Mine This Christmas
‘I’m so pleased my—’
‘Englishness? Poshness? Stiff upper lip?’
‘—amuses you so much. I just... I just want to make it clear that the last thing on my mind after all that is taking advantage of your hospitality or good nature.’
Haf tries not to laugh.
‘What am I doing that’s so funny now?’
‘I don’t know. You’re just so ...nice.’
‘That does not sound like a compliment.’
‘It is! Honestly, it is. I want to wrap you up in a blanket and keep you safe. Like a dormouse or something.’
‘My ego is taking a battering tonight.’
‘Look, sure you’ve just endured a mortifying interaction with your ex and her frankly shitty new boyfriend, but you’ve escaped with a brilliant fake girlfriend, aka me, on a night where I look like an absolute snack, if I do say so myself.’
‘All very true points.’
‘Thanking you,’ she says. ‘Anyway, I was just doing my bit for the other singles of the world. I would have killed for some hottie on my arm to show off in front of my ex.’
Neither of them moves to talk about their mutual heartbreaks, but it hangs in the air between them like a fine mist.
They cross the river via the bridge, which shakes as a cyclist passes them, but otherwise, it’s quiet, apart from the back-and-forth calling between two owls.
‘So, just to confirm. It’s Christopher, yes? Or do you actually prefer Chrissy or Toph? Or should I make up my own? What about Ipher?’
‘Please don’t call me any of those,’ he says with a chuckle, his eyes sparkling in the twilight. ‘Christopher is fine.’
‘Christopher,’ she says, sounding it out as though she’s speaking a spell into the night.
‘And you’re Haf.’ He gets it right first time. ‘Which isn’t short for anything?’
‘No, just Haf. And you can’t do much with a three-letter name, luckily.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, I could call you H.’
‘Like the guy from Steps?’
‘Or the bomb. Hmm, perhaps not.’
They arrive home a few moments later. The house is dark, so Ambrose must still be out having fun with Paco. Good for them. Christopher takes his shoes off at the door, and she ushers them both towards the living room.
‘Coffee or... ?’ Haf waggles the bottle of Prosecco.
‘Did you bring that to the party?’
‘No, Ambrose gave it to me, which I think means they stole it from someone else.’
‘So you second-degree crashed a party and also second-hand stole this?’
‘Seems like it.’
‘You’re a complicated girl. We should probably drink it and destroy the evidence.’
‘I’ll make a criminal out of you yet, Christopher... ?’
