Page 87 of The Christmas Catch
“Hey, Mum.” She willed her voice to sound more upbeat than she felt. She didn’t know how to box up the feelings that coursed through her. How did you rationalise falling for someone, sleeping with them twice, then walking away? Even thinking about it left her dazed, as if she’d just applied a left hook to her own face. Which, in a way, she had.
“There she is! Home for two seconds, then she buggers off. Are you here to stay now?”
Ali blushed. “One hundred per cent. But I am dog-tired. Has Nicole gone?”
Her mum nodded. “Gone to play Santa.”
Of course. It was Christmas Eve still, just about. “Is it okay if I slope off to bed, too? I promise I’ll be here all week to catch up.”
Her mum kissed her cheek. “Get some rest.”
Ali gave Brian and the stragglers in the bar a wave, then took the bag Morgan had given her upstairs. She put the baked goods on the kitchen counter—had Mum upgraded since the summer?—then sat down at the square wooden table pushed against the wall. She pulled out Morgan’s gift and turned it over in her hands. She didn’t deserve a gift, she knew that much. The urge to leave and put what happened behind her had been strong when she was there. But now, it seemed callous. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to dwell. Otherwise, she’d never forgive herself.
She grabbed her phone from her bag and called Tobias. No answer.
Perhaps it was a sign she should open the gift. It was the least she could do: fulfil Morgan’s wishes on this, if nothing else. The wrapping paper had reindeer on it, just like her jumper. She glanced down and flicked a bell. Then immediately silenced it. Ali took a deep breath and tore open the paper.
Inside was a small cardboard box. The price was still in pencil in the corner. £3.49. When she lifted the lid, her heart lurched. She pulled out the toy trumpet and held it with her oversized fingers. It was yellow, red and blue, and supremely plastic. Just as she remembered. More importantly,Morganhad remembered, and bought her a gift that meant something.
Damn it all to hell.
She glanced up to the opposite wall, where a photo of her parents in Tenerife was a new installation, too. Her dad grinned at her. Like he was watching her. Telling her to take care and not give away her future for anyone.
Ali’s phone lit.
Tobias.
“You called?”
“I did.”
“What’s up, Buttercup?”
“Everything.” Ali slumped in her chair. She didn’t have to play it down for Tobias.
“Sounds juicy.” He paused. “First up, are you home?”
“Yes, thank god.”
“Okay. Second, when I left you last night, you were on the precipice of shagging Morgan, The Love Goddess. Please tell me you did.”
Ali didn’t even pause. “I did.”
“Yes! Finally! And how was it? Did it get your lady juices humming? If it didn’t, I don’t want to know.”
It had done all that and so much more. “Yes, it definitely did.” She paused. “But then I drove home with her and told her nothing could happen because I’m going to New York.”
Silence on the other end of the line, swiftly followed by laughter.
“Oh Ali, you’re so sweet, andsofucking lesbian. Way to kill the mood. You’re not marrying the woman, you’re just having sex with her.”
“That’s why I’m calling you. I need advice from the king of no-strings sex. How do you do it?”
“Practice,” Tobias replied in a low, stern voice. “Also, shutting down all your emotions. It’s a skill I learned at the start when men were such shits to me. How the tables have turned.”
She knew it was his defence mechanism. They’d discussed it many times before. She also knew he was only half-serious. The other half of him would love to meet someone who mattered.
“How did she take being told nothing could happen?”
