Page 35 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

On that note, Lucy realised she better get some more pizza dough made up and ready. It would give her something else to focus on too. Mixer out, music on, she set herself away. She usually had quite a light touch when she kneaded the mix, but this evening the sounds of her thwacking filled the kitchen, taking all her pent-up emotions out on the dough. Hah, kneading could be therapy, after all.

Settled on the sofa an hour later with a cup of tea and a much-needed cuddle with Daisy, her phone buzzed to life on the coffee table.

Caller ID: Jack … Aw, phew … eek.

Lucy’s fingertips trembled as she answered, ‘Hi, Jack …’

‘Hey, Luce … uhm, can I come over?’ There was a hollow note to his voice which chilled Lucy, stirring up her doubts and fears all over again.

‘Ah, yeah, of course. You alright?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So, you mean like now?’ Lucy checked. It was past 9 p.m.

‘Please … yeah.’ There was something undeniably sad in his tone.

Oh God, was this it? Lucy felt her stomach drop like a stone. He’d decided they were getting in far too deep, with all her talk of meeting the parents. Was he now ready to up and leave … move on? She felt herself slip into a cold sweat.

‘Okay, well, I’ll see you soon.’ She tried to still the panic that was flooding her veins, and her voice. ‘So, a-are you coming across from your place?’ She was trying to gauge where he was, what might be going on.

‘Yes, so I’ll see you soon, okay?’

And with the briefest of goodbyes, that was that. Bloody hell, she had another fifteen minutes or so to fret – that was as long as it would take him to drive over.

By the time she heard the putter and clunk of Ruby pulling up outside, Lucy was pacing the living-room floor; her heart swirling and plummeting with a foreboding fear.

There was a rap at the door, and then Jack walked on in. Lucy went to greet him, with her heart feeling like it was lodged somewhere in her throat. There he was, his face pale and drawn, but still looking strikingly handsome.

Oh God. Well, she may as well face this head on. Get it over with. Steeling herself, and trying her best not to let her eyes mist, she asked, ‘Jack, is everything okay?’

He stood facing her, looking lost, as her stomach churned.

There were two long beats of silence before he answered. ‘Not really. God, this is difficult, Luce.’

She wasn’t sure if she could breathe at this point, swallowing down a knot in her throat. She longed to dive into his arms, but they were down by his sides, his body language so closed. Might she never feel those arms around her again?

Jack held her gaze, gave a sad, heavy smile, ‘It’s, it’s just … it’s his birthday today …’

‘Whose?’ Lucy was confused.

‘Daniel’s.’

Lucy exhaled. Though it was awful to see his grief, so raw … she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. There was evidently more to Jack’s coolness these past few days than what had been happening between the two of them.

‘Oh Jack …’ Her arms were outstretched.

He stood … for a few seconds, then moved into that supportive space.

And she held him, oh so close, right there in the narrow hallway, with Daisy – tail wagging at their feet – ready to join in the group hug at ankle height. Gradually, Lucy felt his body begin to give, folding into her warmth. Their breathing slowed, steadied. When Jack finally pulled away, there were tears in his eyes.

There she’d been for the past two nights, worrying herself sick about having said the wrong thing, imagining all sorts of commitment-phobe break-up scenarios. But all the while Jack had been hurting, grieving. Lucy dissed herself. She could have been there for him last night. If only he’d opened up earlier. But she wasn’t a mind reader, they were still new to all this, as a couple. It was hard when Jack closed down, shut himself off in his grief, but … he was here now. He’d come to her, in all his raw vulnerability. And that in itself was a huge step. Her arms were still gently holding him as they stood facing each other.

‘I’m so sorry, Jack. It must be such a hard time for you and your family. Tell me how I can help? Cup of tea? Glass of wine? More holding you close?’ She offered with a caring smile.

‘Well, more of that would definitely help,’ he responded, with a glint of the old sparkle coming back to his eyes. ‘But for now, a glass of wine would be good.’

They headed for the cottage kitchen, where Lucy uncorked a bottle of red. Taking up the two stools, they began to settle down, the heaving emotions beginning to calm as they quietly chatted.