Page 17 of Make You Mine This Christmas

He kind of looks like he wishes he was, though.

‘Just, erm, a sticky situation.’

‘Tell me.’

‘It’s embarrassing.’

‘We fell asleep together on a couch fully dressed after I pretended to be your girlfriend in a fairly mortifying situation. How can this be worse?’

She curls up and shoves her icy feet under his thighs.

‘Christ,’ he says, as much to her icy feet as to whatever is bothering him. ‘Well... How do I explain this? Remember Laurel?’

‘How could I literally ever forget her?’

‘Well, it seems that Laurel might have told some people about us.’

‘About you and her?’

‘About you and me.’

‘Oh! But that’s fine. We agreed you can just dump me dramatically off-screen, right?’

‘Well . . . the situation has escalated somewhat.’

‘Escalated?’

‘Yes.’

‘Christopher, do you always talk in riddles? It’s like having a conversation with a wizard on a bridge.’

He does another sad-laugh, scrolls up on the phone and passes it to her. On screen is his family’s group chat, named ‘Those Calloways’, and a message from his mother this morning.

Mother:We heard the wonderful news from Laurel! We’re so pleased. You must bring her home next week. I’ll update theshop so we’ve got enough food. Let me know what dates she’ll be joining us from.

Christopher:You’re inviting Laurel?

Mother:No, Christopher. Your girlfriend, Haf. Laurel says she’s lovely – of course she’ll come to the Howards’ on Christmas Eve as well. You can both come up a few days before so we can get to know her.

‘Uh-oh,’ Haf says. ‘Okay, so a bit trickier, I guess?’

‘To say the least.’

‘Can you not say yes, and then have me dump you like tomorrow?’

‘Oh God, that would be even more pathetic.’

‘Are they really that invested in your dating life?’

Christopher’s eyes are very sad, suddenly. Not glassy, there’s no tears, just... so tired. Like he’s been through the mill with all this.

‘Laurel and I broke up almost a year ago, and God... basically everyone thought we’d get married. We were high-school sweethearts. Our parents know each other well, so they’d quietly hoped we’d end up together, but it happened naturally when we were teenagers. So, when we broke up last year after ten years... It was like I had disappointed the whole family. Like I’d failed to keep her happy and that reflected on all of them.’

‘Oh, Christopher,’ Haf says, resting a hand on his forearm. ‘That’s unfair. It’s not your responsibility.’

‘Perhaps. Sometimes I just think they’re worried I’m not going to produce an heir.’

‘HowDowntown Abbeyof you.’