Chapter 10 #2
‘You never know where there might be mistletoe,’ Rory says cryptically, like mistletoe is a constant threat lurking around every corner in the manner of spiders or creepy clowns.
‘What was your wedding like?’ Maisie asks. ‘Was it reeeeeally romantic?’
I glance at Ollie again. ‘It was small. Intimate. On the castle grounds. Hardly anyone came. Only your granny and grandad, and my family too, and both of you, of course, but you might’ve been too young to remember it.’
‘I was old enough to remember it and I’m going to tell everyone there was a big cake!’ Rory says. ‘But why are there no wedding photos?’
‘Because there’s never been a wedding, Rory!’ Ollie glues a red nose onto his plant pot.
‘I know that, but your bosses don’t,’ he replies like we really are the stupidest people he’s ever had the misfortune of dealing with.
‘Mummy and Daddy have wedding photos everywhere,’ Maisie adds. ‘And honeymoon photos too. Where did you go for your honeymoon?’
I catch Ollie’s eyes again. ‘Somewhere warm and sunny. No, wait, you kids would’ve been three and five when we got married, so maybe we didn’t have a honeymoon at all and that’s why there are no photos?’
‘Where are your parents, Auntie Lula?’
Being called Auntie Lula does something to my heart.
It’s what Rocco calls me, and here, it makes me feel like I’m really Ollie’s girlfriend being introduced to his family for the first time, and it’s a surprisingly nice feeling.
I like the fact that he’s been completely honest with the kids and got them involved in this too, like it’s a game we’re all playing together.
Even this aspect of inventing our backstory with them is unintentionally genius on his part.
‘They live in Ipswich. They already have one grandchild from my sister, but my mum is always pestering me to give them more. They’d both absolutely love you two. ’
‘And that works surprisingly well because one of my top excuses about why my wife can’t attend events is because she’s visiting her parents in England, and don’t forget that you two always go with her.’
‘Won’t you miss them for Christmas?’ Maisie asks me.
‘Of course I will, but we’ve got enough to keep us busy over Christmas and I’ll see them before the end of December anyway. How about you? Are you going to miss your parents?’
‘Noooooooo!’
‘Not at all!’ Rory says. ‘We’re going to video call them, and Uncle Ollie is going to let us stay up late and eat anything we want and watch alllllllll the TV, right? And he’s going to get us loads of presents!’
‘And don’t forget the pony!’
‘Why did I know this was heading towards blackmail territory?’ Ollie says with a joking groan, even though he’s clearly looking forward to having them for Christmas as much as they’re looking forward to being here. Apart from the pony aspect, probably.
When the kids have had enough of painting pots, we bundle up and throw a ball around outside, play a game of hide-and-seek, and then a couple of board games in front of the fire with another hot chocolate each.
Maisie and Rory regale me with everything their mum has ever told them about their births in case I want to pass the stories off as my own, which is something I hope will never come up, because if I know very little about taking care of children, I know even less about giving birth to them.
At dinner time, we make a cranberry and sage pasta bake with Ollie in charge of ingredients, me chopping veggies, and the kids overseeing the copious amount of cheese on top, and we all gather around the dining table again.
‘Sit closer!’ Maisie demands, smooshing her hands together to show we should move our chairs nearer.
He drags his across and I do the same and we meet somewhere in the middle.
‘Hi,’ he says as my thigh presses alongside his.
‘Hi.’ I couldn’t stop myself smiling at him if I tried. He’s barely stopped laughing all day. The crows’ feet are crinkled up around his cheerful eyes, and I get the feeling he doesn’t get to be young and carefree very often and he’s loving having the kids around.
Our elbows knock together as we eat, and he keeps looking over and winking at me.
‘Hold hands!’
‘We’re eating! No one holds hands when they’re eating!’ Ollie’s laughing again, which turns into a groan when Rory announces it’s time for a pop quiz.
‘What’s Uncle Ollie’s favourite Christmas movie?’ he asks me, and I’m half-expecting him to start reading from a set of cue cards like a gameshow host.
‘I have no idea,’ I admit.
‘Rory, no one at work knows my favourite Christmas movie. She could say anything and no one would know.’
‘But you know, and you’re supposed to be getting to know each other. Do you want it to look like you’ve only just met?’ Rory gives us such a severe look that it sets us both off giggling again.
‘It’s Home Alone,’ Ollie says eventually.
‘I’ve never seen it.’
‘You what?’ He pulls back and mimics a dagger going into his heart. ‘We’re the same age, how can you not have seen one of the biggest films of our time?’
‘I don’t know, a kid being tormented by burglars never seemed particularly festive to me!’
‘It’s the burglars who are tormented by the kid, trust me on that.’ He points between me and himself. ‘We’re going to put this right this December. You two are my witnesses. She’s not leaving here without watching Home Alone and all the sequels with me, yes?’
They agree, even though knowing it’s Ollie’s favourite Christmas film makes it infinitely more appealing.
‘What’s Auntie Lula’s favourite Christmas song?’ Rory tries to get our attention back on the task at hand.
‘“Coventry Carol”,’ Ollie answers around a mouthful of pasta bake.
‘Ahh, I didn’t say it was my favourite, I said it was the one I was named after.’ I give him a playful nudge.
He nudges me back. ‘What’s your favourite then?’
‘If it wasn’t “Mull of Kintyre”, it’s rapidly becoming so.’
‘Awww,’ Maisie and Rory say in unison, and I look over at Ollie again and a smile tugs his mouth up at one side. His eyes twinkle at me and it’s harder to tear my gaze away than it should be.
‘What’s your favourite thing about each other?’ Maisie asks.
Ollie pulls back and looks at me, holding my gaze for a moment that stretches out endlessly. ‘Lula makes everything beautiful.’
In the middle of laughing and joking, it sounds serious enough to make my breath catch, because that’s a really nice thing to hear, especially given that decorating progress is slow so far while I wait for the bulk of things to arrive and plan out where everything will look its best.
‘Go on!’ Rory prompts me.
I look at Ollie again and swallow hard as I think about what to say.
I could go for funny and mention his impeccable taste in clothing, or his generosity, but this feels like a moment not to hide anything.
‘Ollie is the kind of person who makes you wish that every other person in your life was like him.’
Maybe I shouldn’t have been that honest, but since coming here, I’ve done nothing but wish there were more people like him in my real life, and it felt right to say that.
My cheeks have flared red yet again by the time I risk a glance over and meet the blue-grey eyes I can feel on me, and without dropping my gaze, he reaches out and gives my hand a quick squeeze and mouths a thank you.
‘What’s each other’s most annoying habit?’ Rory’s next question cuts through… whatever that was, and we both look away like we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t.
‘She doesn’t have any,’ Ollie says smoothly, and I can’t help laughing. Now that is a well-trained fake husband.
‘He works too much,’ I answer easily.
‘Our daddy says his job is to make rich people richer while making himself miserable.’
Ollie nearly chokes on his pasta. ‘I bet he didn’t say that thinking it would ever be repeated.’