Page 36 of Never Gonna Happen

‘Thanks, Amrit,’ said Emily with a smile. ‘You’re an angel.’

Amrit grinned. ‘Merry Christmas, beautiful Emily. And to you, Emily’s even more beautiful friend.’

‘You can’t have him, Amrit,’ laughed Emily. ‘Even though it’s Christmas.’

‘I am destined to be alone for ever,’ said Amrit dramatically.

Dinner was what the Wilkinsons called ‘open combat’, where all the dishes were dumped on the table and everybody piled in. If you stood any chance of eating what you’d actually ordered, you had to get in quick and not be afraid to use your elbows.

Emily watched as Jamie joined in with the fun, pretending to wrestle Charlie for a naan bread and batting away David’s spoon as he tried to annexe the lamb rogan josh.

‘What do your family normally do on Christmas Eve, Jamie?’ asked Carol, earning her a glare from Emily. ‘What?’ she said. ‘I’m just asking.’

‘We don’t really have a fixed tradition,’ he said. ‘It depends where everyone is.’

‘So last year, for example,’ said Carol, refusing to let it go. ‘Where did you spend Christmas then?’

Jamie chewed his food thoughtfully. ‘With my mum and my sister,’ he said. ‘We saw my dad too, but only on Christmas Day.’ Emily remembered reviewing all the arrangements for last year when she’d been making bookings for this year’s trip – Jamie had spent Christmas in Switzerland with Tanya and Catherine, but Mr Hunter had only been able to join them for twenty-four hours before he flew to Cape Town to spend a week with an old school friend who was terminally ill. Adam and Victoria had skipped Verbier last year and taken the children skiing in Colorado instead.

‘Oh, that’s nice,’ said Carol, looking round the table, her face arranged into a caring smile. ‘Where does your dad live, then?’

‘Mum, can we leave it?’ said Emily, feeling a bubble of panic.

‘Is he in prison?’ asked Carol, patting Jamie’s hand. ‘I did say to Martin that he was probably in prison. It’s all right, my love. You mustn’t be ashamed. Your parents’ bad life choices are not your fault.’

Jamie smiled bleakly at Emily, whose shoulders were shaking with laughter. Her mum might have the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but you had to admit she was comedy gold.

Chapter Nineteen

‘I’ve got you a present,’ whispered Jamie in the early hours of Christmas Day. They were alone in the lounge, enjoying the window of peace and quiet between two days of festive chaos.

‘I’ve got you two,’ Emily replied with a smile. ‘Shall we open them now?’

‘Don’t see why not.’

He rummaged behind the sofa and pulled out a small gift bag decorated with snowmen. Inside was a pair of riding gloves in the softest brown leather and suede, a perfect fit on her pale hands.

‘They’re beautiful, thank you.’

‘Nothing worse than being cold when you’re riding.’

‘My thinking was on similar lines,’ she said, handing him the first tissue-wrapped parcel. In the end she’d chosen a soft lambswool scarf in classic Paul Smith stripes, not too big or bulky. Jamie unfolded it and immediately wrapped it around his neck.

‘Oh, this is lovely. I don’t actually own a proper scarf, my chin is always cold.’

‘Is having a warm chin considered unmanly in the equestrian community?’

‘Probably, but I’m going to wear it anyway.’

Emily smiled happily and handed over the second parcel, already feeling shy and uncertain about it. It was the second selfie she’d taken the previous weekend, of her and Jamie framing Rupert’s dopey face, both of them grinning into the camera. She’d ordered a print online and put it in a pale wooden frame, not sure if it felt a bit personal considering she’d rejected his advances a few hours before it was taken. But it was such a great picture of all of them, and she wanted him to have a copy.

‘I love it,’ he said. ‘We look like proud parents of a giant horse baby.’

Emily laughed, feeling like maybe things were going to be OK. Lustful feelings for Jamie aside, she realised how much she liked him. Maybe she could separate that from the physical attraction and they could make this work. Or maybe she was just kidding herself.

Carol’s Christmas lunch was dished up at 12.30 p.m. sharp, and by 2 p.m. everyone was stuffed with turkey, roast potatoes and all the trimmings, with paper hats askew. Pudding would be served in a couple of hours, but in the meantime everyone was free to find a corner of the house to nap or watch TV. Billy and Charlie had commandeered the TV in Carol and Martin’s bedroom to play on their new Xbox, which David confessed to having bought from a guy at work who couldn’t say exactly where it had come from. But it was brand-new and considerably cheaper than in the shops, so he hadn’t asked too many questions. Carol and Martin were watching a Bond film in the lounge with a bottle of Baileys, while David and Jo headed upstairs for a nap.

Emily and Jamie offered to tackle the washing-up. He admitted privately to Emily that he’d never actually had to wash dishes by hand before, but it was really no different from scrubbing tack in a bucket of soapy water. Considering the day had started at 5 a.m. and had been absolute chaos ever since, she was impressed with how he was bearing up. But even she felt like the walls were closing in, so maybe it was time for some fresh air.