‘Merry Christmas, everyone,’ says Christopher as Otto rushes in, energetically wielding a bottle opener and a huge bottle of Champagne. The real stuff.
‘Let’s get celebrating, shall we?’ he says, and a loud pop fills the room. He fills up glasses laid out on his drinks trolley and starts passing them around.
Before she can tactfully sit down literally anywhere else, Otto ushers Haf onto the couch with a freshly topped-up glass, and she ends up wedged between the two Calloway siblings. This feels a bit too on the nose, even for her.
Determined to snaffle a few flecks of pastry, Stella and Luna bob around them, going from family member to family member. Eventually, Christopher picks up Luna and wedges her down on the couch between him and Haf, where she goes to sleep. Though, she wakes up briefly when Esther hands Haf a pain au chocolat on a tiny plate.
Unable to balance glass, dog petting and tiny plate, Haf tries to juggle things around until Kit intervenes, and helpfully places the pastry on the coffee table for her.
Once everyone has a drink, Otto swaps handing out Champagne for passing out presents, so that everyone – including, to her surprise, Haf – has one.
Rather than everyone taking turns opening one each, a slightly mortifying tradition imposed by her dad so he could getaction shots of people opening gifts, the Calloways all dive in at once.
She wasn’t expecting anything at all.
The gift box is wrapped in a bright red ribbon, and as she undoes the bow, the box falls open beautifully.
Inside is a very fancy-looking candle from a brand that she vaguely recognises from Laurel’s bedroom. She pops open the cardboard and she’s surrounded by the scent of figs. It’s really, really good.
There’s also a very thick pair of knitted blue and yellow socks from The White Stuff, a shop she thought only sold white things but apparently just sells pricy things.
‘Thank you. This is so kind,’ she says to the Calloways.
Esther gives her a warm wink. ‘You’re welcome, Haf. Merry Christmas.’
Next to her, Christopher is ripping into a parcel, and Haf realises it’s the one from her. Luckily, the shop had been able to gift wrap it for her, else it would have been wrapped in a pillowcase.
His eyes shine as he lifts out a navy-blue knitted scarf with a tiny embroidered Paddington Bear on each end.
‘When did you manage to get this?’ he asks, wrapping it around his neck.
‘I saw it when we were shopping. I suspect it might be for children, but I think everyone needs a Paddington Bear scarf.’
‘Correct.’
‘You like Paddington Bear?’ Kit asks dryly.
‘I’ve got a beating heart in my chest, haven’t I?’ Haf says with all seriousness.
Haf’s phone buzzes, and on screen is a photo of her parents, already sun-kissed on the beach, drinking cocktails. Mum’s message reads:
Mum:Merry Christmas, darling. Send us some piccies. Dad’s already pissed x
She’s pretty sure there isn’t even a time difference between Madeira and the UK, which makes this even more impressive.
Ambrose has also sent a photo. They and their cousins in front of the tree posed like K-Pop idols.
‘Looks like everyone is getting into the swing of things.’ Christopher laughs.
Determined to dig into her pastries, Haf grabs her plate from the coffee table, and as she sits back, she brushes her arm against Kit’s.
And now that she’s leaned back and picking at a pastry, she could swear that Kit is touching her.
She is. Kit’s arms are folded, but the hand closest to Haf is stroking her arm. An intentional, soft touch. A caress.
She doesn’t know what to do, and so keeps stuffing her pastry into her face, but does give Kit a little glance to say hello.
Plate back on the table, Haf wraps her arms up in the folds of the dressing gown, and before she can realise what she’s doing, she’s wrapping her fingers around Kit’s own. Kit squeezes back.
