‘It’s part of the job,’ he said, recalling his experience earlier that afternoon. He wouldn’t mention that now. It would burst the bubble they’d created: a glorious, yet fragile orb of connection. But he had to get one thing straight while he had the chance.
‘You know what Vee said just now,’ he said. ‘I’m not actually Christmas-obsessed. I can see why people – many people – might want to forget about it. Families, life, relationships … are complicated, and I’ve sometimes thought of skipping the whole thing myself, so I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable by bringing you along this evening.’
Sophie frowned.
‘Brody, firstly, you didn’t force me. I didn’t have to get in your car. I didn’t have to leave the surgery. I could have stayed with Sir Hiss. I could have found Vee and hung out with her. I chose to come out here with you and I really enjoyed myself. I have loved … seeing how much joy Christmas brings to everyone here. And don’t feel bad about liking Christmas,’ she said. ‘I used to love it myself. Once.’
Once?The word seemed to hang in the air between them, like the key to unlocking a door that Sophie had closed on her previous life.
‘Brody! You made it. I’d given up on you, frankly. You’re so disorganised,’ Cora suddenly shouted.
‘Thank you,’ Brody replied, not feeling grateful towards his practice manager, who had borne down on him with half a dozen more of his colleagues.
‘You had us worried for a moment,’ one of the animal assistants declared. ‘Thought it would be the first time you missed it.’
‘No way,’ Brody said firmly.
‘More importantly, how did the foal birth go?’ Cora asked solemnly.
‘Mum and foal were both doing well when I left.’
Having dealt with her boss, Cora lasered in on Sophie. ‘Oh, hello – Sophie Cranford, isn’t it?’
‘Yes …’ Sophie replied. ‘Cora, isn’t it?’
Cora’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. ‘You know my name?’
‘Of course,’ Sophie said pleasantly.
Brody became a bystander now that Cora was in full swing.
‘Don’t you run the anti-Christmas hotel? Shouldn’t have thought this was your thing.’
‘It’s not anti-Christmas. I’m just offering an alternative festive celebration, catering for people who want something different.’
‘You’re Jingle and Belle’s mum, aren’t you?’ one of the vet nurses put in, with a smile. Brody silently thanked her for rescuing Sophie from Cora’s blunt attentions. ‘They’re such gorgeous cats. I love their fluffy little faces.’
Another nurse jumped in, and Brody was silently grateful they’d changed the subject.
‘Thanks. They have their moments, but I love them too,’ Sophie replied.
‘Why are your cats named after a Christmas song?’ Cora began, but Brody leapt in.
‘Shall we go to the pub?’ he suggested, to enthusiastic mumblings of agreement. ‘I’ll be with you in a second,’ he went on, waiting for Cora and the others to head across the road to the pub. ‘I’m sorry Cora gave you the third degree,’ Brody said to Sophie. ‘She’s a very efficient practice manager, but she can be spiky.’
‘It’s fine. I can stick up for myself, Brody,’ Sophie insisted, although now a silence stretched between them. ‘Um, it’s really kind of you to invite me to the pub, but I think I can see Vee over there with the kids. She really wanted me to come and, now that I have, I feel I ought to spend some time with her and the family.’
Brody’s festive spirit went down the drain. He’d been so looking forward to spending more time with her.
‘OK,’ he said, with a smile that he hoped treaded a fine line between disappointment and polite acquiescence. ‘The offer of a lift still stands, though. As I’m heading in your direction.
She nodded. ‘Thanks, and I might still need one, even if Vee offers. Felltop is a bit out of her way, but she might relish the chance to get out of bath and bedtime for once.’
‘Oh. OK, you’ve got my mobile number?’ he offered.
‘Actually I don’t have your number. Just the surgery one,’ Sophie realised. Normally they’d bumped into each other on walks or near their respective houses.
‘Right. OK. Of course.’ Until this evening, Brody realised, they’d only been neighbours. Tonight they were friends …
