Always, in December by Emily Stone

Chapter Five

‘What about this?’ Max asked, holding up a shower cap with little ladybirds on it.

Josie laughed. ‘I’m not sure my grandmother’s really the shower-cap type.’

‘What are you talking about? Everyone is the showercap type.’

Josie raised her eyebrows. ‘Even you?’

‘Especially me.’ He put the cap on his head for effect and Josie burst out laughing, earning a disapproving look from a middle-aged woman perusing the washbags next to them. She could hardly blame her, though. She’d usually be that woman, glaring at anyone who dared to look like they were enjoying themselves in a crowded store this close to Christmas. Well, ok, she probably wouldn’t be glaring, but she’d certainly be thinking mean thoughts.

Josie looked down at the price tag. ‘Forty-five pounds?’ she asked incredulously. ‘For a shower cap?’

‘But look, it has pretty ladybirds on, they’re worth at least a fiver each.’ Max tapped one of said ladybirds as if to emphasise the point, then shrugged as he put it back. ‘Alright, maybe not.’

‘I thought you said you were good at this,’ Josie said with a smirk.

‘Hey, it’s not my fault that you have no taste.’ He walked on, giving the middle-aged woman, who studiously ignored him, a polite nod as he passed. Josie followed, manoeuvring herself carefully down the aisles so that her shopping bags didn’t accidentally knock anything off the shelves. Shamefully, given she’d lived in London for eight years, this was her first time in Fortnum & Mason. It had been Max’s idea to come here, at least to ‘look’, and she had to admit it was beautiful, with perfectly decorated Christmas trees on each floor, each themed around a certain colour scheme, the closest one showing off blue and silver baubles with intricate designs on each one. No doubt Bia would call it boring, Josie thought wryly. There was a giant golden crescent moon hanging above them from the ceiling, with twinkling gold stars on varying lengths of thread cascading around them, and despite the number of sweaty bodies all pushed in here, it still smelled sweet, chocolate mixed with a flowery perfume.

‘Ok,’ Max said, glancing at her to make sure she was still following him, ‘we can do this. Tell me about your grandmother.’

‘Don’t you have to do any shopping?’ Josie was aware that there was a faint whine in her voice, but she couldn’t quite stop it. He’d come out all guns blazing, lighter today than the last two days, like he had decided from the get-go to be his most charming self for whatever reason. As such, he had powered her through the day so that she was nearly done with the shopping. She’d got her grandad some nice gardening gloves and a sign saying ‘My Garden, My Rules’ and she’d settled on a Space NK voucher for Helen, figuring she was bound to get it wrong if she tried to buy Helen something specific. So that left only Memo to go, which was always the most difficult present even though she knew her so well.

‘Nope,’ Max said easily, stopping to look at the scarves and giving Josie a questioning look. She shook her head. She’d got a scarf for her two years ago. ‘I did all mine ages ago.’

Josie huffed, feeling like he was taunting her. ‘Well, aren’t you organised?’

He grinned at her, seeming to find her annoyance incredibly amusing – indeed, the more reluctant she’d been throughout the day, the more fun he’d seemed to be having, like he was determined not to let her mood affect him. Or maybe, because she wasn’t being forcibly cheery like the last two times she’d met him, he’d decided that role needed to be taken up by him. ‘Not usually,’ he admitted. ‘I just knew what I wanted to get everyone this year.’

Josie side-stepped a woman with a buggy, who’d stopped to pick up something her toddler had thrown onto the floor. The Christmas music got louder as they neared the other side of the shop – they must be near a speaker. ‘This year? What’s so special about this year?’

‘Huh?’ He frowned over her shoulder, clearly distracted by something, but when she turned to look she couldn’t figure out what it was. ‘Oh, no, nothing special,’ he said breezily. ‘I just had specific ideas, that’s all.’

‘Are all your family in New York this year?’ Josie put her bags containing her other presents down and brushed a hand through her hair. She was too hot, but couldn’t seem to motivate herself to take her coat off, knowing she’d only have to put it back on as soon as they stepped back outside.

Max picked up the nearest photo frame, examined it, then put it back down again. She wondered if he genuinely enjoyed the shopping or if it was all put on, like her enthusiasm for Winter Wonderland yesterday. If it was faked, she thought he was better at hiding it than she’d been. ‘My parents and my sister, yeah.’

‘Sister?’

He looked at her, smiled, and his eyes crinkled in that way that made him seem warm. ‘Yep. My baby sister,’ he said, chuckling a little. He noticed her slight smile as she tried to figure out the joke, and elaborated. ‘She hates being called the baby, which I suppose makes sense given she’s twenty-seven. She’s four years younger than me, but has forever been the one taking care of me.’ His voice softened as he spoke of her, and his eyes turned a little sad. She cringed internally – no doubt she was only reminding him that he was stuck this side of the Atlantic, away from his family. ‘And you,’ he said, his voice firmer now, ‘are clearly trying to distract us from the task at hand. Your grandmother. Go.’

‘I don’t know,’ she complained. ‘She’s . . .’ Josie waved a hand in the air. ‘Classy, I guess. Likes to bake, though she’s actually terrible at it – she never manages to follow the recipe right, but she doesn’t give up.’ Josie smiled at the teenage memories of coming home after school to be greeted with overly chewy biscuits, or cake that tasted just a bit too strongly of egg.

Max frowned for a minute, then headed off with a new determination, so that Josie had to grab her bags in a fluster, and really did knock off the nearest photo frame this time, muttering an apology even though there was no shop assistant in sight. She caught up with Max next to the homeware section, and scowled at him for the unnecessary sprint – wasn’t shopping supposed to be relaxing? Though maybe not, considering the frantic way everyone else was sorting through the shelves. This was precisely why she usually did hers online, in plenty of time to return things if they weren’t right.

Her phone beeped from somewhere in the depths of her handbag, and she fished it out, expecting to see a message from Bia, who still hadn’t told her she was there safe, despite having landed several hours ago. Her heart gave an extra-large thump when she saw Oliver’s name pop up instead.

Can we talk? Please?

She scowled at it for a moment. He was probably trying to figure out if she’d already replaced him with Max, after yesterday’s encounter. Well, too bad. She was tempted to reply with a simple No, but figured that she should just ignore it for now. No doubt she’d have to talk to him at some point, and maybe it would be better to just get it over with so he’d stop asking, but for now, she was enjoying the fact that she didn’t have to sit around thinking of him – she was entitled to distract herself, wasn’t she? And Max was proving to be the perfect distraction.

Having spent the morning telling Max she’d never buy anything from Fortnum’s, Josie ended up buying a little tea set for Memo – white with a turquoise and gold border. It was a little out of her budget, but her grandmother deserved something special, and whether it was because of Max talking about his sister or the memory of her grandmother’s baking, she was feeling particularly nostalgic. She had a moment of doubt when she wondered whether it would go in their kitchen, given she hadn’t been to their house for years, but it was understated and she was pretty sure it would go with anything.

‘Yes,’ Josie said decisively after she’d paid. ‘I think she’ll like it.’ She took the bag the shop assistant handed her. ‘Though I’ll be able to tell either way – she’s got a terrible poker face.’

Max laughed. ‘Are you spending Christmas with her then?’

‘No,’ Josie admitted after a beat, ‘but we open our presents from each other over Facetime every Christmas Eve. It’s like a ritual.’ One that Memo had started when Josie had stopped coming home for Christmas, so that they still had some ‘family time’.

‘A very modern day ritual,’ Max commented, and Josie grinned.

‘Quite.’

They passed the jewellery section on the way out and, even though it was such a girly cliché, Josie couldn’t help being drawn over to have a look. She noticed a pair of big star earrings, dangly ones that sparkled in the Christmas lights around the casing, and laughed a little.

‘Yeah, I’ve always found jewellery quite funny,’ Max said, deadpan.

She pointed the earrings out. ‘These are exactly like a pair I got given for Christmas when I was nine.’ The last Christmas she’d shared with her parents, she thought before she could stop herself. ‘They were in my stocking,’ she explained, smiling at the memory. ‘Clip-on, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’

‘And plastic.’

Max raised his eyebrows. ‘But apart from that, they were exactly the same? I’m not sure you should let Fortnum’s hear you say that.’ He glanced up to the nearest shop assistant and flashed her a grin, which made her beam and go a little pink. Clearly, he’d learned how to use his looks over the years.

Josie rolled her eyes at him as they walked away from the jewellery. ‘Well, they were gold and stars and dangly. And they were my favourite thing for a while.’ She remembered how she’d asked her mum to put her hair in a bun every time she’d worn them, so that they were even more obvious.

‘Do you still have them?’

‘No. I lost them a few months later.’

‘Shame. I’m sure you’d look great with plastic golden stars in your ears.’ He glanced at her earlobes and she touched one absentmindedly.

‘Not really my style anymore.’ She was wearing studs, as usual, little daisies. She couldn’t imagine wearing something so bright and out there now, even if it was just a pair of earrings.

They made their way back outside, and the cold wind actually felt like relief as it brushed the back of her neck, after the toasty warmth of inside. She grimaced at the sound of her phone vibrating. Surely Oliver wasn’t ringing her now too? But it wasn’t Oliver.

She bit her lip and glanced at Max, who gestured for her to answer. She turned away a little bit, trying to keep her voice down. ‘Aunty Helen?’

‘Josie!’ Her aunt’s husky voice boomed down the line. ‘Darling! How are you?’

‘I’m—’

‘Now, look,’ Helen continued, talking over Josie. ‘I know we said tomorrow for supper, but I got my dates mixed up and I’m actually here in London today. I don’t suppose you can meet me today instead, could you, darling?’

Josie looked over at Max, who was politely studying the street, rocking back and forth on his heels. ‘Well, I’m—’

‘I know it’d be an inconvenience, darling, but I’ve double-booked myself tomorrow and I’d hate to miss our annual supper, I’ve been dying to hear all about your year.’

Josie grimaced at the thought of having to tell Helen just how wrong her year had turned out. ‘Well, the thing is—’

‘I’ve got us a table at the Ivy Market Grill,’ Helen continued. ‘You know it, don’t you? In Covent Garden.’

‘I know it, yes, but the thing is,’ Josie said, talking as quickly as she could to avoid being interrupted again, ‘I’m actually out with a . . . a friend at the moment, so I’m not sure I could—’

‘Oh bring her along!’ Helen exclaimed, sounding delighted. ‘I’d love to meet one of your friends, darling, I do worry about you here all alone sometimes.’

‘Well, I . . .’ Josie trailed off weakly. She couldn’t really say no, even if she did want to prolong the day with Max. But this was the one time of year she and Helen saw each other without fail, and it would surely make her a terrible person to refuse to go just for the sake of a few more hours with a man she’d only just met. She sighed, and Helen sensed victory.

‘Wonderful! I’ll meet you there in an hour.’

‘An hour?’ Talk about last minute. Josie wrinkled her nose. She bet Helen was lying – she must have other plans that had fallen through today and was trying to rearrange things so as not to have an evening in a hotel alone.

‘Yes, we’ll have an early supper, shall we? Can’t wait to see you, darling!’ And with that, she hung up, leaving Josie staring mutely at her phone.

‘Everything ok?’ asked Max, coming up to her.

Josie tugged a hand through her hair. ‘Yes, I . . .’ She blew out a breath. ‘That was my aunt. She’s in London and wants to meet me for dinner in an hour – she booked a table but forgot to tell me, apparently.’

‘Dinner at five p.m.?’

‘Apparently, yeah. I’m so sorry. She said you’re welcome to come, though?’ Max frowned, then smoothed out his expression so Josie couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Which maybe was just as well, because she wasn’t actually sure what she wanted him to be thinking in that moment. She would have been happy to spend the rest of the day with him, but the thought of him sitting next to Helen and having every inch of him examined over a three-course meal was enough to make her cringe.

‘I’d love to,’ Max said, perhaps a touch too evenly, ‘but it actually works out well – I’ve got some errands to run and I said I’d Skype my parents later.’ Josie nodded, not sure why she was suddenly finding words hard to come by. ‘Where are you meeting her?’

‘Covent Garden.’

‘I’ll walk you – might as well walk rather than get the tube if you can bear it.’

She nodded, then looked down at her cluster of bags, sighed and hauled them off the pavement. Lips twitching, Max took two of them off her, and Josie didn’t even try to protest.

‘So,’ Max said as they neared Covent Garden tube station, the sound of people clapping making its way up to them over the general chatter. Someone must be performing further down. ‘Tomorrow.’

Josie glanced up at him. His hair was sticking out at odd angles from the wind, which had died down as it grew darker, like the darkness had chased it away. ‘Tomorrow?’

He didn’t look at her, his attention on a busker playing ‘Feed the World’ on the corner. ‘Plans?’

‘Plans?’ Josie took the lead, heading towards the Ivy Market Grill.

‘For tomorrow. What are your plans?’

‘Oh.’ Josie felt the tell-tale heat creep up her neck and resisted the urge to rub at it, though, really, he could have found an easier way of asking her. She wrinkled her nose. She didn’t have anything concrete planned for tomorrow even though she’d booked the day off from work weeks ago, but it seemed a bit pathetic to say that, this close to Christmas. She’d already given two days to him at short notice – the weekend, no less – was it tantamount to admitting that she was a loner with no friends if she was available for a third day at the drop of a hat? Or did he even mean that? He hadn’t actually asked her out, maybe he was just making polite conversation. Or maybe you’re just overthinking it, Josie. She sighed. ‘I’ve got a few things I have to sort out,’ she hedged.

‘Things.’ Max nodded.

‘Stuff I need to get done before Christmas. I’ve got a work Christmas party on Christmas Eve I need to . . . get ready for.’ True, given she hadn’t even thought about what she was going to wear to their charity event, to quote Janice. ‘And other . . . stuff,’ she finished lamely, coming to a stop outside the restaurant.

‘Stuff and things,’ Max said slowly. ‘Sounds boring. Come out with me tomorrow instead.’ Josie tried very hard not to smile, to keep her expression neutral to match his, even though a little thrill went down her spine. Not a date, she told herself firmly. He was just looking for friendly company, that was all. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to be a date, not this soon after Oliver, not with someone who lived in Bristol. ‘Come on,’ Max said evenly. ‘You’re not going to leave me hanging while I’m all alone in London, are you?’

Josie laughed and relented. ‘Fine. What do you want to do?’ She shifted the bags to her other hand and shook out her arm, which was starting to feel numb.

‘I’ll pick you up at nine.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘You’ll pick me up?’

‘Well, in a manner of speaking. I don’t actually have a car, obviously. Here,’ he added, fishing out his phone and opening up Notes, ‘give me your address.’

She did as he asked, only belatedly thinking that she should maybe be more cautious about giving her address out. ‘Where are we going?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

Josie sighed. ‘I’m not a huge fan of surprises.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be such a cliché. Everyone likes surprises, they just don’t like the possibility that it’s a bad surprise.’

She contemplated this for a moment, then shook her head. ‘Regardless, I like to know what’s going to happen next.’

He considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable. He was really bloody good at keeping what he was thinking off his face. He ‘pffed’ and waved a hand dismissively. ‘Boring,’ he declared again. But then his voice softened a little, a hint of sadness creeping through. ‘You can’t plan your whole life that way, it has a habit of not cooperating.’ She thought unwillingly of her parents, deciding last-minute to go to that party, but pressed her lips against that thought. This was not the same thing.

‘This is where you’re eating, I take it? Fancy.’ And just like that, he was back to an easy, jokey tone. He walked her to the door, holding it open for her, and a wave of heat hit them, along with the smell of garlic, mussels and, she was pretty sure, port. It was dimly lit in here, which worked for the festive theme, with green tinsel decor around the side of booths, though she couldn’t quite imagine how it would feel in summer. She’d been in here only once before, and that had been in winter too, for a work lunch.

The hostess took her coat and bags, and was in the process of instructing a waiter to take them to the table, when Helen’s voice boomed out. ‘Josie!’ She was walking briskly towards them from the other side of the restaurant, etiquette be damned. She was wearing an extravagant purple dress that showed off an impressive figure, given she was in her sixties. Her blonde hair, dyed religiously every six weeks, was in a new style, shaped around her face in a way that accentuated her cheekbones. Josie glanced at Max, but it was too late to tell him to get out quickly. Helen pounced, drawing Josie into a tight hug. Josie caught a faint whiff of tobacco, as she always did, even though Helen insisted she’d given up smoking years ago. Helen was a good few inches shorter than Josie, but you wouldn’t know it unless they were stood right next to each other – Helen had a way of carrying herself that made her seem like the tallest person in the room. She was Josie’s dad’s older sister, and though Josie often tried, she found very little of her dad in Helen, although she often wondered if she would have seen more of the similarity, had she had the chance to know her dad as an adult.

‘And who is this?’ Helen demanded, wasting no time, and eyeing up Max critically with no hint of shame.

Josie cleared her throat. ‘Max, Helen, Helen, Max.’

Somehow instantly guessing what type of person she was, instead of shaking her hand, Max brought it to his lips and kissed it swiftly. ‘Delighted to meet you.’

Helen’s eyes narrowed, reserving judgement. ‘Are you the “friend” Josie was with? Are you staying for supper?’

Max ran a hand across his stubbled jaw. ‘I wish I could, but I have other duties to attend to, unfortunately.’

‘Hmm.’ Helen glanced between the two of them before whispering to Josie, perfectly audibly, ‘What happened to the other one? Oliver, wasn’t it? I liked him.’ Which wasn’t entirely true – Helen had only decided to like Oliver after the fourth time she’d met him, a year and a half into the relationship.

Josie sighed. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

Helen turned back to Max. ‘And what is it that you do?’

Max said, ‘I’m an architect,’ at the same moment that Josie realised that she hadn’t even asked him what he did for a living in the last two days. God, he must think she was so self-involved.

Helen was pursing her lips, clearly deciding whether she thought ‘architect’ was a good career choice. ‘For which company?’ she asked, and Josie suppressed a snort. Like she’d have any way of telling the good companies from the bad. Josie smiled apologetically at Max over Helen’s head.

‘ALA,’ Max said. ‘Do you know them?’

Helen didn’t seem to read the slight joke in Max’s voice, thankfully, and just sniffed slightly.

‘Ladies, if you’re ready to be seated . . .’ The waiter was hovering uncertainly next to them, and Josie became aware that they were very much clogging up a walkway, though everyone was too polite to tell them explicitly to get out the way.

‘Yes, yes,’ Helen said, waving a hand and taking Josie by the elbow, abruptly ending the conversation with Max.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Josie said over her shoulder.

Max nodded. ‘Nine a.m.’

Josie was steered abruptly around a corner, and Helen let go of her elbow when they reached a corner table. ‘Sit on my right, won’t you, darling? My ear is playing up again.’

Josie seated herself and smiled her thanks to the waiter as he handed her the menu, noticing that Helen already had a bottle of sparkling water and a bottle of Chardonnay on the table.

‘Nightmare at the hotel,’ Helen was saying. ‘No record of my reservation, and then Susan has come down with a terrible headache so had to cancel our plans, and well anyway, how are you, darling?’ All without pausing for breath.

Josie smiled despite herself, taking a sip of the wine her aunt had poured. ‘I’m good.’

Helen eyed her appraisingly. ‘You look peaky.’

‘Well, I suppose it’s cold today.’

‘Hmm. And who’s that chap then? How did you meet?’

‘In a club, five years ago,’ Josie said promptly.

Helen looked up from the menu and frowned. ‘In a club?’ Like she was one to judge: she’d met the husband she was now on track to divorce – the third – at a cocktail bar when out with one of her friends.

Josie shook her head. ‘It was a joke.’

Helen’s eyebrows shot up as she returned to the menu, one finger scrolling down the options. ‘Not a very funny one, darling.’ But despite what Helen said, Josie found herself laughing, and for once the sound of an instrumental version of ‘Silent Night’ did not annoy her.