Beckett took in a deep breath, which was a mistake because his expanding chest felt every inch of Mary pressed against him.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
‘You’re too good for me, Mary. Far more than enough.’
She didn’t say anything, but simply sighed into his sweater, as some of the tension left her body.
Beckett stood there, in heaven and hell at the same time.
Gramps appeared in the kitchen doorway, carrying a spanner that he’d picked up from somewhere.
‘Aren’t you done canoodling yet? I thought we were going back to the lunch place?’
Beckett dropped his arms, unable to resist placing a soft kiss on the top of Mary’s head before he moved away.
It was only after she’d wiped her face, straightened her jumper embroidered with pine trees, and smoothed back her hair that she met his worried, lovelorn gaze.
‘How come you always know exactly the right thing to say?’ she said, managing a hint of a smile. ‘Is it a Dr Bywater tactic?’
‘Definitely not.’ He ducked his head, trying to sound casually wry to negate the flush spreading up his neck. ‘Come on, if you’re all done fishing for compliments. Let’s not keep them waiting. The show must go on.’
He picked up the car seat containing a snoozing Bob and started towards the front door, but Mary caught his hand, pulling him around to face her.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
He grinned, even as his heart burst. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘Not only for today. For… For being my friend. When I needed one most.’
Beckett doffed an imaginary cap. It seemed he’d lost control of his faculties. ‘I can promise you, the pleasure was all mine.’
New Life Community Church was abuzz with activity. In the centre of this circus were, of course, the two Christmas Ringmasters. Resplendent in their own Santa and Mrs Claus outfits, with red glittery fabric and silver trim, Cheris and Carolyn gripped A3 clipboards from which they merrily called out announcements in line with the schedules they’d handed out.
Mary and Beckett missed a lot of the rehearsal, being in a Sunday school room that had been commandeered as the dressing room. One after the other, cast members came to don their finished outfits, and each time Mary seemed to relax a little bit more as her creations were greeted with gasps, grins or stunned admiration.
She frequently would turn to Beckett, eyes wide with wonder. He’d smile back, give a nod of encouragement, or shake his head with a light-hearted eyeroll to say, ‘See?’
When the last cast member had slid into their Slug Santa outfit, and slithered backstage ready for their big number with the Boyband Santas, Mary turned to Beckett, grabbing his hand.
‘We did it,’ she breathed, eyes shining into his. ‘They were okay.’
Beckett gave her a sideways look. ‘They were not even close to okay. Bill reckons they’ll be the talk of the show. Moses is considering auctioning them off in the new year to raise money for the food bank.’
Mary grinned back at him, radiant, and Beckett wanted to pause this moment so he could imprint every detail in his mind forever.
‘Shall we go and watch the last few minutes? Sofia said Bob’s big break will come right at the end.’
They made their way around the side of the main hall, which was gradually being transformed into a giant Santa’s grotto by Moses’ auntie and the stage crew. They were sticking pictures of elves at work on the walls, and underneath the huge tree was a growing pile of presents donated for vulnerable children. There was even an animatronic elf set up as if loading a present into a wooden sleigh.
‘Is it me or does that elf look quite sinister?’ Mary giggled as they found a spot to stand near the back wall.
‘I wouldn’t want to come across one in a dark alleyway on Christmas Eve,’ Beckett said. ‘Apparently it was donated by a journalist from the local news, Bea Armstrong, who always covers the carol concert on her feel-good slot.’
‘Oh, they’re starting up again!’
Beckett was trying to be casual about it, as if he’d barely even noticed, but he and Mary were still holding hands. In reality, it was just about all he could think about.
He’d not kept holding her hand, in line with the friend-zone boundary, but he hadn’t let go, either, just sort of done nothing, and her fingers had definitely tightened around his as they’d weaved their way through the hustle and bustle.
