Chapter Nine #3
‘They keep putting the subscription price up every other month, so he can’t be that short,’ Shaz says, wiping at her eyes. ‘Maybe I’ll give it direct to him in coins in a little envelope.’
This sets them both off again.
Once they finally get a hold of themselves, Shaz clearly remembers something.
‘WAIT,’ she yells, grabbing the collar of his top to pull him closer and lowering her voice to a whisper.
‘That’s only a one-bed flat up there. Christopher Calloway, you have to tell me.
Be honest with me. Are you sharing the bed with him? ’
Christopher can feel himself go beetroot. ‘I slept on the couch.’
‘Ah, what a shame.’ She lets him go, clearly a bit disappointed. ‘So that’s why you’ve got the countenance of a cold cowpat this morning.’
‘I do not,’ he insists. Behind him the coffee machine rumbles. ‘Do you want this coffee or not?’
‘Yes, obviously.’
‘Then stop trying to distract me.’
‘I bet he’s distracting you far more than me just asking you about it. God, he’s so fit in real life. I thought maybe it was just that thick make-up they slather on for the HD cameras, but he is really good-looking isn’t he?’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘You absolute liar.’ She cackles and Christopher places all his attention on making this coffee for her. ‘Maybe you should share the bed with him. It’s so cold out, and just think of the savings on your bills. You know, get a little cosy?’
‘I think that would be highly inappropriate.’
‘Let a girl dream, will you? I think it would be highly hot.’
‘Speaking of,’ he says, setting down an espresso in front of her.
‘So, what are you going to do with him?’
‘Well, it doesn’t look like the snow has cleared so I was going to see if there was anywhere nearby that could put him up.’
‘Chance would be a fine thing. I’ve already called them all.’
Christopher raises his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t realise you had attained psychic administrative powers during the last thirty seconds of this conversation.’
Shaz rolls her eyes at him. ‘Ha ha, but no, I may have got desperate yesterday after Gar’s accident and rang round everywhere just in case someone could take Kathy.
I even got desperate and rang a few places almost as far as Chester – though God knows how we’d even get there in this weather – and they near laughed at me before hanging up. ’
‘Is she really that bad?’
She sighs loudly. ‘I’m just being dramatic. I just got annoyed when she had recleaned the house because I hadn’t done a good enough job the first time. It’s not as exciting as your situation, I’ll tell you that.’
Christopher pulls a sad face. ‘You mean she’s not a looker?’
Shaz snorts and gives him a playful whack on the arm. ‘I wish. I didn’t bleach half my skin off cleaning for her to think it wasn’t a good enough job.’
She isn’t being hyperbolic. Her poor hands are cracked and red.
The cold must be making it so sore. He slips into the kitchen and collects a hand lotion from beside the sink, which Laurel sent him as an advance Christmas present, all while trying not to notice what a complete bombsite his beloved kitchen is.
‘Here, use this,’ he says, handing it over to her. ‘It’s soothing.’
‘You’re a sweetheart.’ She takes the tube and dabs a glob on the back of her hand, then sniffs. ‘Ooh. It smells posh. A Laurel gift or an Esther gift?’
‘Laurel.’
‘Truly, what would you do without your ex?’
‘Probably be still working in finance.’
He knows his relationship with Laurel is strange to some people, but they were childhood friends, then dated for ten years through the tricky teenage years and their mid-twenties.
After they broke up, things were a little strained, but ironically the chaotic situation of last Christmas brought them closer together again, but just as friends.
She’s a fashion designer now, sharing a size-inclusive brand with Ambrose, having built her audience up from being an influencer.
She really helped him make the leap from boring finance drudgery to cookery school.
And she is very good at choosing thoughtful gifts – pretty much everything nice in Christopher’s house is from her.
‘Well, I am much better off for her interferences, either way.’ She rubs the cream over her sore skin and sighs with relief.
‘Good?’
‘Good. With Kathy, it is what it is, isn’t it? Mother and daughter-in-law dynamics are not known for being uncomplicated. We just have to learn to live with each other, and instead of pissing myself when she oversteps, I need to tell her to piss off or just let it go.’
‘A lot of piss,’ he says sagely, before realising what he’s just said. ‘Christ.’
‘Tis his season, yes. Anyway, yes, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s horrendous out there. You’re still not going anywhere, in case you were hoping.’
‘I was hoping.’ There it is, then. He confirms it with a glance at his phone – all the trains are cancelled still, the weather forecast says not to travel, and there are hundreds of notifications on his WhatsApp.
‘It looks like you’ll be stuck with the gorgeous film star for a little longer. What a disaster for you,’ she drawls.
‘A really annoying gorgeous film star.’
‘What did he do to annoy you?’
He nods his head back to the kitchen. ‘He’s Miss Havisham.’
‘Oh yeah, I could see that would grind your gears. You agree he’s gorgeous though?’
Christopher groans and walks back into the bakery kitchen to start cleaning up so he can make some gingerbread. He gives her a death glare, spray cleaner in hand. ‘Do you want me to make these reindeer or not?’
‘Pretty please.’
He gives in, because of course he does. It’s Shaz. He’d do anything for her.
* * *
In the end, it doesn’t take too long to get the central table clean and sanitised. It’s nice, the companionable silence. Shaz must need it too, as she sips at her coffee quietly.
When he finally starts laying out the ingredients for the gingerbread, she asks, ‘So, did you downplay how much of a fan of his you are?’
‘Oh. Um.’
‘Um?’ She raises her eyebrows.
‘Well, you can’t just tell someone that kind of thing.
That’s weird. I think they call it being parasocial or something, right?
’ He’s still not one hundred per cent sure that’s quite right given he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t know who Nash is, but Laurel and Ambrose complain a lot about the way people mistake them as being people they know personally, even though they only see them on their phones.
It makes both of them feel uncomfortable, and he just doesn’t want to make anyone feel that way, even Nash.
‘So . . . ?’
‘So, I just . . . pretended not to know who he was. Just played ignorant when he mentioned his job. Plus, he keeps being so annoying that I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I’m sure his ego doesn’t need another boost.’
Shaz bursts out laughing, a raucous, echoing sound in the empty building. ‘Oh brilliant. Oh my God, Christopher. This is going to end in disaster, I can see it already.’
‘It’ll be fine.’
‘It will be something, all right! And now it’s been too long to admit that you’re a fan and you two are stuck up there together. What are you going to do? Just never turn on the TV so he can’t see your Netflix watch history?’
‘Something like that.’
Shaz literally slaps her thigh, which Christopher didn’t think people did outside movies. ‘Oh, this is good. This is really good.’
‘Please revel slightly less in my pain.’
‘I will not.’
‘And you can’t let on that you know who he is either.’
‘Why’s that now?’
‘Well . . . I don’t know! It’ll just be easier that way, won’t it?’
‘So, what, he just thinks I’m some weird rude staring person?’
Christopher shrugs. ‘I’m sure you can flesh out the back story there.’
She thinks this over as he mixes up the gingerbread dough. ‘All right, I’ll go along with your little scheme, even if only for my own amusement.’
A simple melodica tune plays out, and Shaz pulls her phone out of her pocket. ‘I’m being summoned. I’ll be back later for the reindeer and a minor revel.’
It takes her quite a while to shuck back on her coat and many scarves.
Nash appears at the front door to the café, tapping on the glass to be let in, just as she turns to leave.
‘Hello again,’ Nash says, as Shaz opens the door. But she just slips past him with only a cackle as she disappears off into the snow.
Nash shuts the door behind him after a pause. ‘Goodbye then? Is everyone so talkative here?’ He hovers in the kitchen doorway. ‘Um. Am I allowed in?’
‘Depends; are you going to attempt to make another home gym?’
‘No.’
‘Then yes. Provided you don’t touch anything.’
For some reason, Nash looks rather dishevelled and a little dirty.
‘Where on earth have you been? You look like you crawled out of a coal scuttle.’
‘I’m sorry, a what now? A coal scuttle?’
‘Yes, where you keep coal.’
‘All right, Mr Victorian England. What are you making?’ Strange that he moves the conversation swiftly along, Christopher thinks. Perhaps he fell in the snow and doesn’t want to admit it. That would be rather funny, at least.
‘Gingerbread reindeer. Shaz’s favourite.’
‘And that was Shaz, I presume?’
‘The one and only. She’ll be back later.’
‘I look forward to another thrilling in-depth conversation.’
‘Speaking of, she did mention that we might have a small issue.’
‘Shoot.’
‘There’s no room at the inns. Metaphorically or literally.’
‘Ah. Shall I just check Airbnb, in case there’ve been cancellations?’
‘Go ahead, but I think you’ll find the same,’ Christopher says, rolling out the gingerbread dough on the counter.
‘That smells pretty good by the way,’ Nash says without looking up from his phone.
‘It’s even better when it’s baked.’
They don’t speak any more, even as Christopher cuts out the dough into reindeer shapes and lays them on a tray.
For the first time, Christopher doesn’t feel completely unsettled in Nash’s silent presence.
It must be the baking. The room is soon flooded with the sweet scent of gingerbread cooking as Christopher washes up the pans and sets everything away.
It’s a reset, or perhaps a bubble of normality.
Eventually, Nash looks up and puts his phone inside his shirt pocket. ‘You’re right. There’s nothing.’
‘And I can’t get to Yorkshire to see my family either.’
The understanding that they are stuck together hangs in the air. But before they can discuss it, Shaz comes back through the bakery front door.
‘They’ve not even finished baking,’ Christopher calls, before realising she’s on the phone.
‘All right, love, I’ll see if we can get anyone up to you,’ Shaz says, one finger in her ear. ‘I’ll call you back in ten, okay?’
She pockets her phone.
‘Everything okay?’ Christopher asks.
‘We’ve got our first snow-based emergency.’