Page 37
“Want him to call you?”
“No, love, it’s fine. Just let him know we’re all set.”
“Will do.”
“And remind him that he has my present for you. He tossed it into that black hole he calls a backpack, God knows if he’ll ever find it again.”
“Yeah, what goes inside doesn’t always come out. Did my gift arrive in time?”
“I have it in my carry-on. I wish you didn’t, Alex. Writers don’t make a lot of money.”
“That’s why I only spoil the people I love.”
“Ah, bless you, darling.” A smile tinged Niamh’s voice. “Mark’s really looking forward to Christmas.”
Alex’s fingers trailed along a velvet box of sparkly rings. “Yeah, me too.”
“Oh, they’re saying we can pre-board now. I’ll call when we land.”
“Please. Safe flight, Niamh.”
“Lots of love, dear.”
Alex stuffed her phone in a pocket. Oh…wait! A necklace with miniature comedy and tragedy masks…perfect. Once an actress, always an actress—Joan would love it.
She handed over twenty pounds and rocked back on her heels, watching a baby stroller break through the thick fence of legs like a battering ram.
“Thanks! Happy Christmas, love.” The Santa hat-wearing vendor stretched over the table with Joan’s necklace tucked inside a paper bag.
“Happy Christmas!” Alex glanced up at the glittery Manchester Santa, the size of six elephants, perched above the entrance of the town hall. He was kinda freaky, his boggly peepers staring blankly over the Square, his gaze all-knowing, never blinking. Alex felt dizzy for a moment and stood still, waiting for it to pass.
Right.Time to get a move on—if only the crowds would budge. These shoppers, hypnotized by the staggering array of goodies and snacks for sale, crept along like ants stuck in treacle. Alex didn’t know Manchester that well, but she knew the general direction she needed to go. She pulled her National tote into her waist, dodging exuberant office workers let loose at noon, sporting snowman head-boppers and garlands of gaudy-coloured tinsel. Every hand rushing past seemed to be brandishing an arsenal of overstuffed shopping bags.
As Alex headed left onto Mosley Street, the grey clouds overhead burst into an urgent encore, causing umbrellas to bloom from the hands of hurried pedestrians. She pressed the button of her umbrella and ran across the street, clogged with trams approaching in both directions. Their Thomas the Tank Engine toots whistled in the damp air as she swung around the corner and splashed through the swollen puddles on the Piccadilly Gardens pavement. Not far now…
To any one else, Mark would have been difficult to recognize, hidden underneath a flapping umbrella, a peacoat, and a black Manchester United cap pulled down over his eyes, but Alex could pick out that slightly crooked stance in skinny jeans anywhere. Nodding his head to some unknown track streaming into his ears from his headphones, he stood outside Pret a Manger with his backpack and suitcase. Alex’s lips parted into a smile and her heart turned up its pace another notch, giddy for what was to come.
“There’s my girl.” Mark yanked off his headphones and surged forward, his hand reaching for her face. He tilted his head and kissed her tenderly as she melted into his hug, her free arm squeezing him like a vice grip while their umbrellas collided into an awkward battle of nylon and metal. “I guess I’m forgiven for missing the earlier flight, then?”
“I’m so happy to see you.”
Mark clamoured for her hand. “C’mon, Elsa. Inside.”
“Who?”
“Your fingers are Frozen.” Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes as he kissed her hand. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
Sandwiches purchased, they claimed a table for two tucked into the back corner of Pret, Mark choosing the seat facing away from the entrance. The welcoming scent of ground coffee beans and freshly brewed java infused the room, while round metal trays clanked on the silver countertop overlooking the glass case housing sugar-dusted crumble bars and mini Christmas mince pies. A barista who recognized Mark brought over two gooey chocolate chunk cookies on the house. She praised Mark’s TV role, gushed over Alex’s handbag, and then politely left them to it.
Alex blew on the steaming froth of her hot chocolate. “How did the chemistry reads go?” She took a tentative first sip and grimaced—so bitter.
“Good, yeah.”
Mark cracked the plastic cap on a bottled water and handed it to her. She gladly took a gulp and then ripped open her bag of cheese and onion crisps.
He peeled away the seal from his Christmas Lunch sandwich, his finger scooping out a taste of its minced pork, herb, and apricot stuffing. “Some of the chemistry reads have been so awkward, you know, like really bad blind dates.” He sucked on his finger. “But this morning, it clicked. Luckily, everyone agreed, so now we have our female lead and my male sidekick.”
“Just in time, too.”
