Chapter Thirty
Christmas with the Cranky
Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny, but with another hard frost, and Gemma drew back the curtains, delighted at the scene before her eyes. Her restless night had left her weary, however, uncertain over when and how to approach Matt with Harry’s responses.
It was early, but there were faint sounds from the kitchen, and she padded down the stairs to find Anna already busy and Oliver cleaning out the log burner under the watchful eyes of Heathcliff and Dougal.
They exchanged warm greetings and shared a hot drink at the island. There was no sign of Matt, nor had Gemma expected there to be, but, as soon as Oliver left to walk Dougal, Anna looked expectantly across at her.
‘Matty was in good spirits yesterday, and he certainly looks better since he started to eat properly.’ Anna sipped her drink. ‘How has he been lately?’
Gemma chewed her bottom lip, then picked up her cooling hot chocolate. ‘He’s unpredictable, and I can’t work out if it’s no longer being part of the tour or not. He talks as if it doesn’t bother him, but I think it does.’ She hesitated, unsure if it was disloyal to share more. ‘He also seems to have a lot crowding in on him. His phone never stops.’
‘Matty’s far more sensitive than he likes to let on. It’s the most important thing I’ve discovered about him this past eighteen months.’
Gemma remained thoughtful. ‘There’s something I’ve done for him, but I’m worried how he’ll take it.’
‘He’s lucky you’ve bothered to get him a gift, after all he’s put you through!’
Thankful for Anna’s misunderstanding, which drew Gemma back from saying any more, she smiled. ‘I give as good as I get.’
‘Yes, I’ve noticed.’
Draining her mug, Gemma got to her feet. ‘Thanks for that. It was delish. I’d best go shower.’
She turned for the door, but it opened and Matt came in, carrying a dusty wooden box. Wrapping her arms across her body in an attempt to conceal her rather worn festive pyjamas, Gemma could feel heat stealing into her neck and cheeks as his gaze met hers.
‘Why are you carrying a tea caddy?’ Anna gestured at the box under Matt’s arm.
‘Stubbed my bloody toe on that damn creaking floorboard by the bed again. Found this under it.’ He handed the box to Anna and headed for the coffee machine. ‘It’s locked,’ he added over his shoulder.
Anna placed the box on the island, wiping a finger through the dust to reveal polished rosewood. ‘It’ll be Aunt Meg’s, but why would she hide it under the floor?’
Torn between shooting upstairs fast to make herself presentable and staying in the kitchen, Gemma shifted from foot to foot.
‘Aunt Meg had another tea caddy similar to this. She kept it locked and in her study. It contained all sorts of things that were clearly important to her, including this.’ Anna raised a hand to show her engagement ring. ‘As well as some things she wanted to keep confidential. I had no idea there was another.’
‘Perhaps she was a secret agent or a modern-day smuggler,’ Matt suggested as he poured a coffee.
Anna laughed. ‘Unlikely. I wonder where the key is to this one? I had to follow a shell hunt to find the last one!’
‘Can’t you break it open?’ Matt joined them at the island.
Anna and Gemma exchanged an outraged look. ‘No way!’
There was a small commotion as Oliver returned with Dougal, who seemed thankful for the warmth of his basket by the hearth despite it already being partially occupied by Heathcliff.
‘There are still several unexplained keys in the desk drawer,’ Oliver mused as he examined the box. ‘I expect we’ll find one to fit it.’
Gemma chose the moment to hurry upstairs and prepare for the day ahead, trying not to think about the expression on Matt’s face as his gaze followed her over to the door. She wasn’t sure what the fixation was. He’d seen her in PJs before… although never the Christmas ones which, despite being faded, where a bit spectacular.
By the time Gemma returned downstairs, Matt had disappeared. She joined Anna in the kitchen.
‘Any joy with the mysterious box?’
Shaking her head, Anna stirred a pan on the AGA. ‘No, and it’ll have to wait. We’ve got other priorities. Can you get the plates out?’
Gemma did as she was bid, helping Anna to ferry the dishes to the table before heading to the fridge for the juice. She’d dressed with a great deal of care but, when Matt returned to the room, she may as well have stayed in her PJs for all the attention he gave her.
Think I’d have more chance if I dressed as a mobile phone , Gemma reflected as they all took a seat. Thoughts of her own phone, however, only brought to mind Harry, and how on earth she was going to open a conversation with Matt about him.
Opening presents by the hearth after their brunch, Gemma took a moment to sit back and simply absorb the moment.
When she’d first come to Polkerran, she’d seen it as a bolthole. Somewhere to recuperate and regroup as she waited to resume her travels. She could never have envisaged the impact it would make upon her.
She felt rested, albeit fizzing with an undefined happiness. If only she could pluck up courage to tell Matt about her secret gift.
Gemma cast a covert look at him, then leaned her head back against the cushions, the unopened gift on her lap all but forgotten.
Matt was an enigma. After dismissing him as someone who needed to get over himself at the beginning of their acquaintance, she’d uncovered a sensitive, complex but thoughtful man who – despite his comfortable position in life – hadn’t had everything as easy as she’d assumed.
‘Are you okay, Gemma?’
Turning her head on the cushion, Gemma smiled at Anna. ‘Never better. My favourite day of the year, and it’s turning into a pretty special one.’
Anna looked over to her brother and back, though she said nothing, merely resumed opening the gift in her lap, and Gemma straightened and tore off the paper on hers.
‘Oh!’
Everyone looked up as Gemma held up a new passport in its smart black post-Brexit cover. There was a note attached, and she skimmed it, then lifted her eyes to Matt’s. ‘Dad collected it from the passport office, what with the strikes and delays. It’s why there was no dispatch notification.’
A strange expression flitted across Matt’s face, and Gemma’s heart constricted. She’d thought this was all she wanted for Christmas, the chance to resume her long overdue travel adventure.
Stop being ungrateful , she silently cautioned, returning her attention to the gift. ‘Oh, bless them. They’ve given me a flight voucher too.’ She showed it to Anna, but her heart sank. Two months ago, this was all she desired. It was blindingly obvious now – as she’d begun to realise at the fayre – that all she truly wanted was Matt.
Riddled with confusion, yet also blindsided by the clarity of her understanding, Gemma caught her breath.
Anna reached out and touched her hand. ‘It’s a shame your mum and dad aren’t here to see how happy it’s made you.’
Unable to speak, Gemma managed a nod, her gaze fleetingly resting on Matt, but he had his attention fixed on whatever Oliver held in his hand.
‘Gemma?’ Anna spoke softly, her hand still on Gemma’s, which she squeezed lightly. ‘You should tell him.’
Horrified green eyes met sympathetic hazel ones.
‘I— there’s nothing.’ Gemma shook her head. ‘No, no. Nothing.’
As soon as the gift-opening was over, Anna hurried to the kitchen, while Oliver began to gather the wrapping to put in the recycling.
‘I’ll come and help,’ Gemma called to Anna, but before joining her she crossed over to where Matt was giving the glowing logs a hefty prod.
‘Can I have a quick word?’
Matt rested the poker against the stone hearth and reached to stroke Dougal in his basket before following Gemma over to the window.
‘Thank you for the sketch of Rivermills. I’ll treasure it…’ Hazel eyes held green ones. ‘And the memories, Gem.’
Damnit. She even loved the way he said her name now.
Gemma cleared her throat. ‘My pleasure. All Phee’s artwork. Thank you again for yours.’ Involuntarily, her hand went to the necklace nestled at the base of her throat, which ached with unspoken words.
If only she could tell him she wanted to spend forever with him. Life’s timing could be really crap sometimes.
‘What’s up?’ Matt’s eyes narrowed. ‘Trying to hand in your notice now you can travel again?’
‘Luckily, we don’t have a contract.’
‘We’ve got a verbal one. Besides, we’ve also got a song to finish.’
He turned back to the fire, and Gemma fished her phone from the pocket of her skirt.
‘I have another gift for you. Harry wants to talk.’
‘ What? ’ Matt spun around to face her. ‘How do you know? Why…’
His dark eyes raked her face as if seeking answers there, so Gemma raised the phone.
‘I sent him a DM on Insta. Never thought he’d answer, but he did. I told him I could prove you weren’t the man in the most incriminating photo. Seem to have caught his attention with that.’
Matt muttered an expletive as he read the exchange, then took Gemma by the arm and steered her to the boot room door. ‘Just getting a bit of air. Back in a sec,’ he called over to Anna, who was busy in the kitchen.
Matt’s grip on her arm wasn’t tight, but she had no complaint about letting him retain his hold. It was probably the closest they’d ever get to holding hands.
They fetched up on the terrace and Gemma shivered.
‘You’ve no right to interfere in my business.’ Matt’s frustration was evident, but Gemma stood her ground.
‘Perhaps, but I won’t stand by and see people I care— take for’ – she drew in a short breath as she caught the slip – ‘suffering for an injustice.’
‘I’m not bloody suffering,’ Matt exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. ‘I’ve moved on.’
‘Yeah, of course you have,’ Gemma retorted. ‘I’m not a fool, Matt. We may not have known each other long but, whatever you may think, you’re not the best at hiding your emotions.’
Matt turned away, striding over to the railings bordering the terrace.
Gemma’s heart pounded, but she wasn’t prepared to back down after going to all this trouble. She joined Matt and stared out towards the grey horizon. Unable to stop herself, she shivered again.
‘Here.’
Before she could protest, Matt had stripped off his jumper and was holding it out. He only had a thin shirt underneath.
‘No, Matt. You’ll be cold.’
His mouth was a thin line. ‘Stop arguing for once. Lift your bloody arms up.’
Despite their closeness and its effect on Gemma’s emotions, she did as she was told, and he pulled the jumper over her head.
‘Thank you.’
‘Fine. You’ve made your point. Tell me about this proof and how the hell it convinced him.’
Gemma swallowed her trepidation. She’d hoped he’d be pleased, but he seemed far from it.
‘I pointed out what you’d said, that the pic of you and Claire was a crop from a group photo and didn’t mean a thing.’ She drew in a short breath at the memory of that first time she’d come across Matt sprawled across his bed in nothing but a sheet. ‘And I drew his attention to something he probably hadn’t noticed in the image of the couple on the sofa. A tattoo at the base of the man’s back. It’s hard to see at first, being on the bottom edge of the photo.’
Matt’s brow furrowed. ‘I don’t have one there.’
‘I know.’
He blinked. ‘Sorry?’
‘I saw… back when I first started to work for you. You’d fallen asleep in the bed with the TV on but were partly lying on the remote. I…’ Gemma’s skin infused with colour as Matt’s hazel eyes held hers intently in the light pouring out from the house. ‘Nudged you over to get to it.’
‘ Nudged? ’
‘Don’t worry,’ she hurried to reassure him. ‘You were covered by a sheet. Well, mostly. But there definitely was no tattoo… there. That’s why I was desperate to tell Harry it wasn’t you on the sofa.’ Under Matt’s intense scrutiny, she shifted from foot to foot. ‘I may also have suggested – in the circumstances – that perhaps he ought to ask his wife to get her memory checked. See?’
She scrolled to the second exchange and held it up to him, and Matt’s hazel eyes skimmed through the text.
To her surprise, he then began to laugh. ‘You’re mad,’ he said, then raised a hand to tuck a curl behind her ear. ‘But your sort of madness is growing on me.’
Gemma held her breath as he leaned towards her, but he only dropped a kiss on top of her head.
Clasping her hands behind her back, she scanned his face. ‘You’ll get in touch, though? He does genuinely seem as though he wants to talk.’
Matt said nothing for a moment, then spoke tersely. ‘He wasn’t interested when I wanted to talk.’
Gemma merely held his gaze, and he huffed out a breath.
‘Come on, you’re making us cold out here.’
‘It wasn’t me that brought us outside!’
‘Still arguing.’ Matt shooed her back across the terrace. ‘We’ll talk about it later. Let’s give Anna a hand before Oliver sends us one of his steely glares. Always make me want to go and sit on the naughty step.’
‘Is that right?’ Gemma countered as they entered the boot room. ‘It’s not me who spends an extraordinary amount of time in Oliver’s company of late. I reckon you’re as smitten as the rest of us.’
She tugged Matt’s jumper over her head, instantly missing its warmth, and held it out.
‘Here.’
He took it from her, then reached out to lift the pendant from where it nestled at the base of her throat. His fingers were cool against the heat of Gemma’s skin, which felt as though it was increasing quicker than a pan on the boil.
‘It looks so… fitting on you. As though you were meant to have it.’ Matt’s gaze roamed across Gemma’s features, resting for a moment on her auburn curls, which she’d left to cascade down her back. ‘An ethereal maiden of yore.’
With that, he released the necklace and walked into the kitchen, and Gemma placed a hand over the pendant, heart pounding.
Who on earth was she kidding? She was the biggest smitten kitten of all!