Page 33 of Never Gonna Happen

‘Did you let my brother win at chess?’

Jamie laughed. ‘Yes. He’s really not very good, and I wanted to go to bed. I don’t think he noticed.’

‘Incredible deception skills. Goodnight, Jamie.’

‘Sleep well, Moomin.’

‘Get out.’

Chapter Eighteen

Christmas traditions were a big deal in the Wilkinson household, and Christmas Eve had followed the same schedule for as long as Emily could remember. It started with sausage sandwiches for brunch, then into town in the afternoon to pick up any last-minute gifts or have a couple of pints of festive spirit. There was a carol service in the local church at 6 p.m., then home for a takeaway Indian or Chinese, decided by a family vote. If there was an equal split, the decision was taken on the flip of a chocolate coin.

For Emily, the festive trip into town was an opportunity to meet up with Kelly and Beth and give them their presents, although in pre-Beth years they’d often spent it drinking in a pub that was a go-to haunt for old school friends who were back for Christmas. This year Beth was four, so old enough to be off-the-wall excited about Christmas, and Emily couldn’t wait to see them both.

She explained all this to Jamie as he deflated his airbed and packed his bedding away behind the sofa, worried that he might be finding all the organised fun a bit overwhelming.

‘It’s fine,’ he said, ‘I’m really happy to go with the flow. Just point me in the right direction.’

Emily smiled. ‘You make a good fake boyfriend, Jamie Hunter.’

‘Just Jamie, remember? I’m like Prince. Also, what did you tell your mum about my family situation? She keeps talking to me like I’m a battered child from a broken home.’

‘Ah,’ said Emily awkwardly. ‘My mum is prone to melodrama. Have you seen her bookshelf?’

‘Yes,’ said Jamie, ‘she told me to help myself last night, and particularly recommended a story about a child who was forced to live in a cold stable until he finally escaped. She wouldn’t give away the ending, but I sensed he might have murdered his family.’

‘That sounds festive.’

‘It was either that or a steamy saga about a nymphomaniac duke who seduces virgin kitchen maids.’

‘Oh, those are her absolute faves. Never ends well for the kitchen maids, though.’

Jamie raised his eyebrows. ‘Never?’

Emily gave him a significant look. ‘Never.’

Emily met Kelly and Beth by Chichester Cross and gave them both a huge hug. Jamie hung back to chat with the rest of the family while Emily swung Beth up on to her hip and expressed absolute shock and awe at how big she’d grown in the few weeks since she’d last seen her. Kelly stared at Jamie open-mouthed until she caught his eye and got a smile in return.

‘Is that him?’ asked Kelly. ‘Fuck me, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Proper hunky. He looks like Jamie Dornan.’ Kelly was wearing an acid-green bomber jacket with denim shorts, opaque tights and platform trainers. The green jacket and scarlet hair made an oddly festive combination, like a punk elf.

‘Ssh, he’ll hear you,’ said Emily, the penny finally dropping on who Jamie reminded her of.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘We’ve literally been on two dates. Both horse riding, there’s been very little . . . other stuff.’ This was technically true, which made Emily feel better about not being entirely honest with Kelly. She’d tell her everything once Jamie had gone back to Norfolk.

‘And you’ve brought him home for Christmas,’ said Kelly. ‘Christ, you don’t hang about.’

‘He was going to spend it on his own otherwise.’

‘What is he, some kind of sexpot orphan?’

Emily glanced over, hoping Jamie wasn’t listening. ‘Seriously, will you keep your voice down? He’s got some family issues. It’s complicated.’

‘Does he have a brother?’ asked Kelly.

‘He does,’ said Emily. ‘But you definitely wouldn’t.’