The Mistletoe Pact by Jo Lovett
Then – Christmas 2019
Dan
Evie’s playlist moved on to ‘Last Christmas’ and Dan laughed out loud.
‘It’s very satisfying to be right,’ he told her. ‘So predictable. But you can’t beat cheesiness at Christmas.’ She’d already started singing along to this one. She was good. She’d been like this at Lucie’s wedding too, now he thought about it. Excellent on lyrics. ‘Do you know the words to all songs ever or have you just listened to these ones a lot?’
‘I’ve got to say, I am good with lyrics. I was really bad at remembering a lot of stuff at school, like languages and sciences, things like that, but I’ve always been able to remember songs. I always used to wonder whether the reason that my French vocab and chemistry facts wouldn’t stay in my head was that it was already full of lyrics. And I wish there’d been a song-lyrics GCSE.’
‘They actually should have a popular music GCSE.’ Dan indicated right, moved into the outside lane and speeded up. ‘Finally we can go at a normal speed. The traffic’s insane today.’
‘Everyone’s going home for Christmas,’ Evie said. ‘And so are we. I’m actually so excited. I can’t wait.’
Dan smiled and shook his head slightly. Still so ridiculously uncynical.
A few minutes later, ‘Mistletoe and Wine’ came on, as they were slowing down for another traffic jam.
Dan felt himself go slightly rigid. And he was staring straight ahead. Was that normal? Yes, it was normal. You always looked straight ahead when you were driving. God, he was behaving like a child. Surely he could act naturally around Evie when the words mistletoe and wine were mentioned. It was years since that time they’d made their pact under the mistletoe and kissed. It had been a fantastic kiss, but, again, it was years ago, and a one-off, and he’d seen her a fair few times since then without thinking about it. Why had it come into his head now?
They were stationary now. He took a sideways look at her. She was staring straight ahead too.
It wasn’t often that you could get to just look at someone’s face in repose but at close quarters. He loved the curve of her cheek.
After a few seconds, she turned to look at him, perhaps sensing his eyes on her.
And said nothing. And nor did he. They were looking at each other and Cliff Richard was singing the cheesy song to end all cheesy songs and they were just… looking. And, certainly in Dan’s case, remembering.
Evie swallowed visibly. And Dan swallowed too.
God, she was beautiful. And sweet and funny and lovely and kind. And still gazing at him. As he was at her.
Just the two of them. With all the opportunity in the world right now to say whatever they liked to each other.
It felt like this could be a big moment. One of those moments where you chose which course your life might take. Was that fanciful? Probably. But… She was take-your-breath-away gorgeous and she was fantastic company. It was easy to imagine being around Evie a lot. Being with her. And it was easy to hope that if he made the first move she might be interested.
Except he couldn’t do this. It would be a killer if things went wrong in a relationship with someone like Evie. It would hurt too much. And, realistically, they would go wrong. So many relationships did. Especially his.
Evie was biting her lip now. God.
No. Better never to go there again.
‘Such a cheesy song,’ he said, putting the car back into gear and crawling forward a few metres.
An hour and a half later, the village church’s spire came into view as they rounded a bend in the road.
‘Seeing the church always makes me feel like I’m home,’ Evie said between verses of ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’. ‘Mum always said that, when I was little, if we’d been on a long journey and she’d wanted me to sleep and I just wouldn’t, I’d always nod off just as we saw the spire. And then she’d have a nightmare when we got home and I was sound asleep and she wanted to get me out of the car. Autumn’s exactly the same.’
‘Interesting. A family habit of falling asleep in the car at the wrong time. Question is, are you going to nod off now?’ Dan said.
‘What?’ said Evie. ‘Sorry, missed what you said, think I was asleep.’
‘Ha.’ Dan smiled at her and changed down to third gear to round a sharp corner. Despite some serious Christmas traffic and several lengthy hold-ups, this journey had gone very quickly. He couldn’t remember a drive he’d enjoyed so much. ‘How long are you staying? I’m going back to London on the twenty-seventh. You’re very welcome to a lift back if you’re going back then?’
‘Thank you so much. I’d have loved to have done – think how many more songs we could have got through – but I’m staying until the second, and then I’m going to go back and power through a big pile of marking and lesson prep before term starts. Are you working over New Year?’
‘I’m actually not. First year for a long time that I’m not working either Christmas or New Year. I’m in on the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth and then I’m flying out to New York on the thirtieth for a long weekend with some friends from med school.’
‘Wow, that’s exciting.’
‘Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. We’re going to do the whole tourist thing. The Statue of Liberty. Skating at the Rockefeller Center. Times Square for New Year’s Eve. The works.’
‘Perfect. I say that like I know New York; I’ve never actually been. I’d love to go. I’d love to go to America full stop, in fact. Sasha and I have been talking about organising a US trip with our old gang from school for all our thirtieths. Two years to plan it, so hopefully it will actually happen.’
‘You should definitely do that. And what are you doing for New Year this year? The usual?’
‘Yup.’ Evie and Sasha and various other friends nearly always spent New Year’s Eve in the Duck and Grapes pub in the village.
A wave of nostalgia so strong that it felt almost physical washed over Dan. Youth. The pub. The landlord had let them drink in there from when they were fifteen as long as they only had a pint of shandy. Lots of friends. No worries, just a lot of chat and laughter. Until Max’s accident.
And they’d arrived in the centre of the village.
‘I love the green,’ Evie said. ‘It gives me a thrill seeing it every time. We’re so lucky to have grown up in such a chocolate-box perfect village.’
Dan glanced over at Evie and thought about the time they’d sat on the bench on the green late at night and then kissed on her doorstep. He looked away and manoeuvred the car into her lane, stopped outside her mum’s cottage and turned back to her. She was gazing at him, biting her lower lip slightly again. Beautiful. God, he was remembering that kiss again. He was supposed to have parked that memory. Her eyelashes fluttered a little as they looked at each other.
Eventually, Dan realised that the car was still running and pulled his key out of the ignition.
‘Thank you so much for the lift,’ Evie said, sounding a little husky.
‘Not a problem.’ There was something about being inside the car, just the two of them. So intimate.
Dan cleared his throat and Evie’s mum tapped on the window and he and Evie both jumped.
Evie’s mum pulled the passenger door open and enveloped her daughter in a huge hug. Then Autumn ran out of the house and joined in with the hugging.
‘We should unpack the car,’ said Evie. ‘We’re holding Dan up.’
‘Really, not a problem,’ Dan said.
‘No, we should let you go. I think this drizzle’s going to turn into heavy rain and that won’t be fun for either of us with the unpacking.’
Evie and her mum and Autumn took armfuls of presents and Dan hefted all the remaining bags out and deposited them just inside Evie’s mum’s front door.
‘I think that’s everything,’ he said.
‘Thank you again, so much.’ Evie’s smile really was beautiful. ‘Total knight in shining armour.’
‘No, thank you,’ he said, meaning it. ‘I enjoyed the singing. Happy birthday for tomorrow.’ He hoped he’d see her again soon. Hard to imagine not enjoying her company.