Page 47 of Christmas Spirit
Lock.
“Don’t you?” Roland picked up his lock and turned it over. “Georgie,” he read.
“What?”
“The lock, it’s got your name on it. There’s a key, too, underneath.”
Georgie watched, mesmerised, as Roland slipped the slender key into the lock. With a soft click, it opened.
“The key to your heart, Georgie. I’ve unlocked your heart. Can you do the same for me?”
Georgie nodded. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t trust himself to speak, as with shaky fingers he picked up the lock and turned it over to read the inscribed name.Roland. The key was cool in his hand, and heavy, but as he slid it into the lock, his hand became sure and steady. Like the lock Roland held, it clicked open.
“The key to your heart, Roland. I’ve unlocked your heart, too.”
Georgie’s eyes fluttered to a close, as their lips met. The kiss was sweet and soft, it was everything he’d ever yearned for, it was everything he believed he would never have. It was every Christmas and birthday rolled into one. It was hope and belief, it was warmth, when for so long he had known only bone-numbing, crushing cold. It was coming home.
It was love.
* * *
“Gentlemen.”
Roland didn’t want to wake up, he didn’t want to be pulled from the warmth, just like he didn’t want to be pulled from his dream, the dream where he told Georgie he loved him, and where Georgie told him he loved him back. He wanted to stay in that cosy world where it was just the two of them, where all the stresses and strains and demands of life had no place.
“Mr. Fletcher Jones, Mr. Forrester.”
The voice was calm but insistent.
Roland peeled his eyes open.
“Nicholas,” Roland said, blinking up at the old man. “I’ve been asleep.”
Nicholas chuckled. “You have, you’ve been asleep for a very long time, but you’re awake, now, and that’s what matters.” Nicholas smiled down at him, his blue eyes gleaming.
Roland stared up at him, the old man’s words reverberating in his head. Their meaning was somehow more than the sum of their parts, but all thought of asking what he meant broke up and drifted away as Georgie, snuggled in his arms, opened his eyes and greeted him with a smile so warm and bright that Roland was dazzled.
“We fell asleep down here. Sorry,” Georgie said, looking up at Nicholas. “Is it still Christmas Day? I’ve kind of lost track of time. Did you get all your work done?”
“I did indeed.” Nicholas’ smile broadened. “And most satisfying it was, too. It’s the busiest day of the year, but it’s drawing to a close. As is your time here.”
“I’m sorry?” Roland said. “What—? Ah, I see.”
Standing by the door into the lounge, were his and Georgie’s bags. Roland returned his focus to Nicholas, meeting the old man’s gaze.
“You mean it’s time for us to go?”
“I do indeed, sir.” Nicholas inclined his head. “The hotel is closing, you see. Today. We’re very… seasonal.”
“Closing? On Christmas Day? I don’t understand,” Georgie said.
Roland smiled. Maybe Georgie wasn’t meant to understand, or not yet, but he did. It was crazy, insane, madness. It was unbelievable, it was the stuff of fantasy, myth and legend. But it was as real and warm and alive as he and Georgie were.
“Thank you, Nicholas. I quite understand.”
“I knew you would, sir, I knew you would. The snow’s stopped, and the roads have been cleared. You would hardly know it had been snowing at all. I’ve taken the liberty of having the damage to your car repaired. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, and a little effort was all that was needed to make it seem like new again.” Nicholas nodded towards the window.
Roland pushed himself up and walked across to the window. In the soft, fading light, the snow that had lain so heavily was no more than a few melting clumps caught in the trees and bushes. In the centre of the lawn was a small mound, the remains of the snowman he and Georgie had built together, and by the entrance to the hotel was his car, as bright and gleaming as the day he’d bought it. He smiled, and decided against asking where Nicholas had found a mechanic on Christmas Day.
