Page 77 of Under the Mistletoe with You
The feeling gnaws at him a little, and if he’s honest, it’s nice to have something else to think about that’s not his own – arguably rather trivial in the grand scheme of things – problems.
Even though they’re off to drop off Priti and pick up Polly, and so will be back shortly, Nash still makes Myffy a tea before they go.It just seems right.Together, they drive Priti over to the GP surgery, which has managed to open in spite of the weather.Luckily, a few of the staff have their own cars and have been coordinating their own emergency response plan, assisted by Tamara in the community centre.It’s kind of amazing really, what such a small community can do with a few resources.Then, they very slowly drive over to the next unpronounceable town to pick up Polly, a small and very smiley woman with a shock of black hair, who they drop off at Myffy’s cherry-red front door.
‘Call us if you need anything,’ Christopher says, with the kind of deep seriousness usually reserved for movies set in wartime.To be fair, he does have the kind of face that wouldn’t look out of place in World War Two costume.He’d have to lose the round glasses, of course – those are far toomodernNew Yorkeressayist adjacent – but his slim face with all the potential sharp edges softened and those huge baby blues would make him perfect for a role ofkindhearted man just doing his best during the Blitz.The sort of character who just wants to get back to his pregnant wife.Perhaps it’s wrong to typecast him so readily, but the energy cannot be denied.
If anything, it’s one of the things Nash likes about him, even if it’s a bit irritating at times.But that’s how it can be sometimes, can’t it?The things you most like about someone can be their annoying habits.Perhaps it’s just about memorability – nothing sticks in your mind more than being pissed off by someone.
God, where is his mind going?They’re driving back up the hill now to start on their adventure in knocking on doors to check on everyone, and Nash can’t help but glance over at the Boy Wonder himself.There’s so much about this man that he doesn’t know, which is on one hand kind of strange when they’ve shared a bed, and on the other, not at all.After all, he has shared a bed plenty of times withsomeones, their names lost to time.Admittedly, that was a very different Nash; a younger, more carefree Nash.A Nash who hadn’t been hurt yet.
Urgh.That uncomfortable squishiness creeps in again.God, he’s fed up with it.
Looking for anything else to think about, he settles on the scarf around Christopher’s neck.‘I need to ask you something.’
‘Go on,’ Christopher says with trepidation.
‘Is that Paddington Bear on your scarf?’
‘It is.I didn’t realise he was an internationally recognisable bear.’
‘I think pretty much everyone has seen the movie by now.’The goal is wide open, so he takes the shot.‘So, a bigbearfan, are you?’
That one was too easy.Christopher does that awkward shuffle as if his body is turning to stone, and his cheeks go thatfamiliar uncomfortable scarlet.More evidence to confirm his suspicions, along with the general air of panic Christopher displays every time they get physically close.None of this is the behaviour of a straight man.In his experience, straight men barely pick up on what he means when he references the subcultures.Unless they’ve been ‘forced’ into watching endless series ofDrag Racewith their girlfriends, though that just tends to mean they mistakenly use queer lexicon as if it’s their own and need to be talked down.Either way, they end up scrambling to say something that isn’t gently homophobic, and that produces a very different kind of panic: allyship panic.Or, you know, straight-up homophobia, but he didn’t suspect Christopher of that, or else he’d have turned around and left the moment he arrived.
If Christopher was straight and uncurious (an important distinction from the ‘straight’ guys Nash has been with), the panic from sharing a bed would be a very different flavour.Interesting.Veryinteresting.
Not that Nash should be dipping there, nor does he want to.Well, he’s a bit curious.Anyone would be curious.
‘It was my Christmas gift from Haf last year.Paddington is kind of our thing.It’s surprisingly warm, even though I’m fairly sure it’s for kids as it’s very short.’
‘Is everything you own something you’ve been gifted by a woman in your life?’
‘Worryingly, I think you might be right.Also hang on, did you say “themovie”?As insingular?’
‘I haven’t seen the second.’
‘Nash, there’sthreenow.So we’ll have to see to that then.’
‘Is that a threat?It sounds like a threat.’
‘It’s just a really good film.’
‘Big film buff, are you?’
Another open goal.Nash has been working on a theory that Christopher does, in fact, know precisely who Nash is, but without logging into his Netflix – which has been curiously logged out of on basically all the devices in Christopher’shouse – he can’t prove anything.Until then, he can just poke and prod and see if a reaction comes out.
‘I’ve seen a few things.Mostly with bears, orbears.’
Nash cackles.At least he can find that sense of humour deep down under all that earnestness and bat back occasionally.
They park up at the place marked on Tamara’s map, a curving street of bungalows with small gardens in front, just like Myffy’s place.They must have all been built around the same time, with the same covered porches and wide driveways, all of them covered in a thick layer of snow.Nash senses he might have a lot of snow-clearing in his immediate future.
‘Do we split up and take one side of the street each, or go together?’Christopher asks, peering at the map in Nash’s hands.
‘I think together, seeing as there’s only one of these.Plus, the horny old ladies can’t overpower us if there’re two of us.’
‘Having met Myffy, I don’t think we should put anything past them.’
The first couple of houses are dark; clearly some people are away for the holidays.Nash feels a bit awkward about peering into people’s windows.It makes him feel like a kid again, really.Sneaking around the neighbourhood just to see how other people live, inadvertently looking for signs that they feel the same way he does about his life and himself.Not that you can tell that kind of thing from someone’s house, obviously.In truth, he probably didn’t really know what he was looking for, in the same way there were quite a few seemingly unknowable yet known things about himself.He just wanted some kind of recognition that he wasn’t alone, perhaps.
