Page 38 of Never Gonna Happen

‘I’ll take you to Holkham or Brancaster,’ he said. ‘But maybe in the summer.’

Emily sat on the deck next to him and hugged her knees, her wet hair coiled into a heavy bun and tucked into the hood of her sweatshirt. Her skin tingled under her clothes, although it was hard to know whether that was the cold or how close Jamie was. He wrapped his scarf around both of them and hugged her close, passing her the cup so she could take a sip.

The time between her turning her face to smile at him and him kissing her was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like whole minutes of wondering if it was going to happen, seeing the blazing look in his eyes and knowing it was going to happen, then simply giving in to the inevitability of it and closing her eyes to wait. It was the softest, gentlest kiss – not hard or passionate, more tentative and curious. His lips tasted of salt and tea and wind.

Jamie pulled away and brushed his fingers across her cheek, tucking a loose strand of wet hair behind her ear. ‘There. That wasn’t so bad.’

Emily smiled, pushing away all the tangled, complicated thoughts. She’d deal with them later. ‘You trapped me with your scarf.’

‘I have no regrets.’ He buried his face in her wet hair and kissed her head. ‘I have to go back to Norfolk soon,’ he said. It was his way of saying let’s not talk about this now, just enjoy the moment, which was fine with Emily.

She nodded and took his hand. ‘I’m going to stay here for New Year, but I’ll be back on the second.’

‘Do you want to carry on with the riding lessons?’ Another unspoken question – have I completely messed this up?

‘Yeah, definitely. Do you want more sea-swimming lessons?’

Jamie furrowed his brow. ‘Hmm. Can I think about it?’

‘Well, talk about a catch,’ said Carol as Jamie drove off in the VW Golf, waving at the assembled family out of the window.

Martin nodded. ‘You’ve done well there, Moomin. He’s a nice lad.’

‘Good at chess too,’ said David. ‘Gave me a run for my money.’

Emily didn’t say anything as they trudged back inside, only half-hearing David saying something about a family game of Monopoly. She peeled off into the lounge and fell on to the sofa next to a sleeping Rudy, grabbing the blanket that Leon had given her for Christmas and dragging it over her legs. It was made from a hotchpotch of rainbow-coloured knitted squares; judging by the dropped stitches and the generally wonky nature of the whole thing, Emily suspected that Leon had knitted it himself. The idea of his huge hairy fingers tackling such an intricate project made her want to cry, and then feel sick about how devastated he would be if he found out she’d kissed Jamie.

She picked at the blanket as she tried to unravel her emotions – sad that Jamie was gone, but relieved that she no longer had to pretend that they were a couple. Was it still pretending if he’d kissed her on the beach? It was just one kiss, there weren’t even any tongues. Did that count? She wished she could speak to Kelly, but she was at her mum’s and would be five drinks deep by now. And anyway, it felt too messy to explain. She’d talk to her at New Year, get everything out in the open.

Her phone buzzed, a WhatsApp message from Jamie.

Just pulled over to say thanks for my best Christmas ever. Jx

Emily thought about her reply, her heart pounding. Loved every minute. See you next year. Ex

Rudy turned over on to his back, demanding belly rubs. Emily stroked him absent-mindedly, her head full of thoughts of Jamie and the beach and the kiss and what would happen when she got back to Bowford Manor. The absolute state of you, she thought. You’ve gone and done it again. Do you NEVER learn?

Chapter Twenty

‘You need to make a decision, Moomin,’ said Martin. ‘The weather forecast isn’t going to change.’

It was the morning of New Year’s Eve, and Emily stood by the kitchen window watching the snow fall in fat, heavy flakes from a leaden sky. There were already several inches on the ground and the Met Office website had released a weather warning for the next two days.

‘We’re going to head off in a bit,’ said David, his face grim. Jo was already retrieving toys from every corner of the house with Billy and Charlie; Emily could hear her exasperated yelling about putting stuff IN THE BAG and not taking things back out to play with. ‘I’ve been looking at the traffic reports, clockwise round the M25 is much less snowy. We could drive in convoy as far as the A1; you’ll be fine after that. There’s no snow forecast in Norfolk until tonight.’

‘It’s going to get bad up there, though,’ said Martin. ‘The woman on breakfast telly said the whole of the east coast was going to be snowed in. But if you get back today you should be fine.’

‘I was going to see in the New Year with Kelly and Beth,’ said Emily, who’d been so looking forward to a night drinking cocktails in Kelly’s mobile home with a bag of party poppers and a tube of Pringles, watching all the New Year celebrations on TV while she offloaded all her personal baggage. She hadn’t seen Kelly at all since Christmas Eve; her friend had been flat out in the salon since the twenty-seventh. They’d pinned everything on their New Year girls’ night in.

‘I know, Moo,’ said Carol, wringing her hands, ‘but if you wait until tomorrow you could get stuck. I once read this book about two men who were trapped in a Ford Cortina for days, then they found their way to a farm in the arse end of nowhere and one of them ended up marrying the farmer’s daughter.’

Everyone looked at Carol in silence.

‘I know it SOUNDS like a happy story,’ she snapped. ‘But they nearly died. He had no fingers left to put the ring on.’

Emily stared out of the window gloomily. Her parents were right, obviously. It made way more sense to go now and get ahead of the weather, rather than getting stuck in Sussex for what could be four or five more days. ‘Fine. I’ll call Kelly, then pack. Can we leave in an hour?’

‘I’ll do you sandwiches and a flask,’ said Carol, opening the much-depleted fridge. Emily had given her back the takeaway cash, but her mum refused to go shopping until they’d eaten every last scrap of leftovers. There was a good chance Emily’s sandwiches would include week-old turkey and the remains of a Tesco cheese selection box that should have been laid to rest days ago. She would give them a proper send-off in the first bin she encountered.