Snowflakes on Silver Cove: A festive, feel-good Christmas romance (White Cliff Bay Book 2) (23 page)

Taking a deep breath, Amy walked over to her.

‘Of course, you’d be one of the few people in this room who’d see what’s missing from this picture,’ she said, coming to stand at her side.

Judith looked at her and then looked back at the painting, not willing to talk to her.

Amy stepped forward and pointed to her bum in the painting, and she saw a tiny trace of a smirk appear on Judith’s lips, which surprised her.

‘I asked Jackson not to include my shark tattoo, and he agreed that it wasn’t the look he was going for.’

Judith looked down at her handbag, fiddling with a stray thread. ‘I’m sorry for saying you were a prostitute.’

‘That’s OK.’ Amy eyed her carefully. ‘And I’m sorry if I’ve ever done anything to upset you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m clumsy and accident-prone and bad things just happen around me, like your shed setting on fire. I’m sorry about what my nephew did to your gnomes and that I managed to dye Philippe purple when I was helping him out of the tree. I’m loud and crass too, and I’m sorry if I embarrassed you when I was naked in my garden and when I was a penis in yours. I’m sorry for upsetting you, truly I am. It was never my intention. I was thinking of moving house actually.’

‘You’re moving because of me?’ Judith said quietly.

‘I’ve realised that I’ve become a neighbour from hell and I never wanted that.’

Judith shifted awkwardly, which Amy hadn’t expected. She’d thought Judith would do cartwheels of joy across the hall.

‘What about Seb? Are you two not… do you not love him?’

Even the mention of his name made Amy’s heart thunder.

‘I love him, I’ve never loved anyone like I love him.’

‘Does Seb love you?’

‘I… can’t speak for him. I won’t.’ There was no way she could tell Judith what had happened between them; she wouldn’t betray Seb in that way.

Judith’s eyes flittered over her shoulder and her jaw set angrily. ‘Well, him being here certainly speaks for something.’

Amy whirled around and saw Seb standing in the doorway. He looked over and saw Amy and he took a step towards her, before he no doubt spotted Judith behind her and stopped.

More than anything Amy wanted to run over and jump into his arms. But she couldn’t do that with Judith here.

Seb looked awkward, and she knew that he hadn’t expected to see Judith and, judging by Judith’s stony face, she hadn’t expected to see him here either. Nobody moved and the tension could have been sliced with a knife.

Until George swooped in. Wading through the tension, George suddenly ran up to Seb and greeted him like a long lost brother, then took his arm and guided him to one of the paintings, at the furthest point in the room away from her and Judith. She could have kissed George. That was until she realised they were looking at the painting of her getting dressed after what was clearly supposed to be a night of passion. That was too close to the truth for both of them. But then looking around the room, none of the paintings were particularly safe to look at.

And what would Seb’s reaction be to her posing nude? Would he be disgusted?

Obviously feeling Judith’s eyes burning into the back of his head as he looked at the painting of Amy getting dressed, he quickly moved on to the painting of her in bed on a Sunday morning, which Amy supposed was a safer picture.

George, who was clearly embarrassed looking at nude paintings with a man who was obviously more familiar with the subject matter than he was, was loudly talking about the beautiful brush strokes and the lighting and even postmodernism.

Seb was standing at the side of the room now, so they could both see his face from the side as he looked at the paintings. If he was trying to keep his face neutral, he wasn’t doing a very good job. He looked in awe.

Amy quickly glanced back to Judith again, but she was watching him intently, her eyes narrowed.

But as he moved to stand in front of the pregnancy and breastfeeding pictures, something happened. He reached out to touch the painting of Amy breastfeeding, which Jackson would have had a fit about if he hadn’t been distracted by Conrad. Seb gently touched the baby’s head, his face filled with emotion. He looked like he was about to cry.

Amy took an involuntarily step towards him, but just managed to stop herself as she remembered Judith. She looked at Judith, who was pale now, her eyes hurt, wet with tears herself. But if she thought the tears were for Seb, she was mistaken, as Judith suddenly turned and walked out of the hall.

Amy stared after Judith for a moment, unsure whether she was going to come back, but when she didn’t she quickly crossed the room to Seb’s side.

On seeing her, he quickly pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

She held his face in her hands. ‘What’s wrong?’

He gestured to the painting, to the baby. ‘I want that, Amy. I want a family with you.’

‘I want that too.’

Seb glanced over her shoulder. ‘I want that as well, more than anything.’

She turned round to see the picture of her laughing openly.

‘I want to have fun with you. Watching you today with Angel at the party, dancing with her, I loved seeing the smile on your face. I want the jelly and ice cream, and the walks on Silver Cove beach and the amazing sex. I want…’

He took her hand and pulled her towards the fire exit, then pushed the door open and dragged her outside into the tiny courtyard where the snow was now coming down thick and fast. In the middle, a stone fountain that had faded over time stood with frozen icicles sparkling in the light of the moon. He took her in his arms and started moving around with her.

Amy laughed. ‘What are we doing?’

‘We’re dancing in the rain.’

‘It’s snowing.’

‘It’s close enough.’

She leaned her head against his chest and let him sweep her around the courtyard.

‘I love you and I want to share my life with you,’ Seb said.

She felt her smile spread across her face. ‘Well, that’s good, because I love you too.’

He bent his head and kissed her under the light of the moon. Everything faded away. It was the two of them, and that’s all that mattered.

When he finally pulled away, she had to fight for her breath, and she leaned her head against his chest to steady herself for a moment.

‘I won’t lose you, Amy, I won’t,’ he said into her head and she pulled back to look at him.

‘I don’t want to hurt Judith…’

‘I’ll talk to her, but I’m not about to lose the woman I love for the second time in my life. I love you, Amy, I want to get married to you and have a child with you, and nothing is going to stand in the way of that.’

She smiled as he kissed her again.

G
eorge was
quiet as he drove Libby home. What had he been thinking – he wasn’t ready to go out on a date with a complete stranger. He doubted whether he’d ever be ready. And what was worse was the only woman he wanted to go out with was sitting next to him.

‘Are you nervous about your date, George?’ Libby asked.

‘Yeah, I am now it’s sunk in a bit. I don’t exactly have high hopes for it. Anyone who asks out someone they’ve only just met is either desperate or has a whole heap of issues. I don’t think it’s going to end well.’

‘
You
agreed to go on a date with her. By your standards what does that say about you?’

‘I know I have issues, Lib, I have only ever been with one woman. I haven’t had sex in a very long time, and the sex was so bad my ex felt the need to go elsewhere for it.’

He sighed. And his biggest issue was that he had been in love with his best friend for the last six months, desperately holding out for her to fall in love with him.

‘Exactly, we all have issues.’ Libby fiddled with a stray thread on a hole in her jeans. ‘You shouldn’t be so judgemental about others when you have your own.’

‘That’s the problem, two of us with issues, insecurities and baggage.’ He put on a high-pitched whiny voice. ‘Does my hair look OK, did I wear the right shoes, does my breath smell, does my bum look big?’

‘Not all girls have those issues.’

‘I wasn’t talking about her, I was talking about me. God, it’s hardly a good start to a relationship if we’re both like that, is it?’

‘But it doesn’t have to be a relationship, George. It could just be a bit of fun, a few dates, someone nice to talk to. What’s the worst that could happen?’

‘She takes one look at me and runs a mile.’

‘She’s already seen you and fallen for your dark rugged looks. If she runs away then it would be her loss and she would have missed out on knowing one of the most beautiful people I know.’

George nearly swerved off the road as Libby picked up her phone to reply to a text from Amy.

‘What time is the date?’ she asked, absently, drinking from her bottle of water.

‘Seven thirty.’

‘I’ll do your make-up for you if you like.’

‘What?’

‘It’s what we used to do when we were teenagers. If one of us had a date, the others would rally round lending handbags, shoes, doing hair and make-up.’

He tossed his hair. ‘Will you give me a blow job?’

She spat her water out with such force it splattered over the inside of the windscreen. ‘What?!’

He looked at her in confusion. ‘You know… make it more curly…’ He trailed off as he suddenly realised what he’d said. ‘Oh God, I meant… I...’ But she was already laughing.

‘It might be a bit beyond the call of duty but if it will help…’

‘It will help, it would really help,’ he insisted.

She laughed as he pulled up round the back of their flats.

‘You coming for dinner? I was going to cook a curry.’

She hesitated again and it worried him that these practice dates had driven a wedge between them.

‘I really need to crack on with some work actually. My publishers are hassling me for the first draft. Quite why they need it a year in advance I have never worked out but I need to get it finished, preferably before Christmas.’

‘OK, I’ll see you tomorrow?’

She nodded vaguely and disappeared into her flat. Maybe this date with Cerys would be a good thing. If Libby stayed, they needed some normalcy back in their relationship and with George finally dating other women it meant they could go back to exactly how they were before. He would just have to ignore the heartbreaking feeling that giving up these dates would cause him.

L
ibby sighed
as she stared out the window at the moonlit sea the next night. She had successfully managed to avoid George all day. She had signed up for an ice carving lesson in town and gone last-minute Christmas shopping and somehow had managed to make this task last until it got dark. It felt so weird to her that, only two days before, George had been lying on top of her at the ski centre kissing her as if he was in love with her and now he was going out on a date with someone else. She couldn’t be angry at him though. This was what the whole practising had been for. Admittedly it had been with the idea of asking Giselle out and they had agreed that they would continue their practice until Christmas Eve but it was going to come to an end eventually. George had no idea that she had these feelings for him. Just because she had started having feelings for him didn’t mean he should feel the same way. It wasn’t his fault that she had suddenly started wanting more from the friendship. He was still plodding along in the role of best friend, none the wiser that she had moved the goalposts.

She looked at her watch. He would be freaking out about his date right now and, in her role as best friend, she needed to be supportive. If George was happy then she would be happy for him. She would just ignore the voice that was screaming in her head that said she wanted him to be happy with her more.

G
eorge was pacing
his flat nervously. He eyed the pile of discarded shirts on his bed, wondering if the red one he had tried on first would be better than the blue one he was currently wearing.

‘Hello?’ called Libby, letting herself into the flat. ‘I’ve come to give you a blow job.’

The colour of his shirt suddenly forgotten, he stood there in shock for a moment, then stumbled out quickly into the lounge. He laughed when he saw the hair dryer in her hand.

‘Aw, George, you look fantastic. I’d lose the tie though, it’s a bit too formal, especially with the jeans. You’re only going for a curry after all.’

He quickly loosened the tie and slid it off his neck.

‘Shirt tucked in or left out?’ he asked, pulling at the ends of it self-consciously.

‘What do you prefer?’ Libby asked, spraying a small lump of mousse into her hand and running it through his hair.

He swallowed at the intimacy of it. ‘Erm … out.’

‘I think out too. You’re so hot, are you OK?’

‘I feel sick, Lib. My stomach is churning, I’m a sweaty mess. She’s going to take one look at me and run a mile.’

‘OK, OK, sit down, take a few deep breaths. Let me have a look at you.’ Libby held his face, looking deep into his eyes. ‘You have beautiful eyes, George. Deep pools of melted chocolate filled with kindness. Your hair has that gorgeous Poldark look to it, all dark and curly.’

George had often likened his hair to Alan Davies in
Jonathan Creek
rather than the sexy Poldark, but he smiled slightly at the thought.

‘And you have the loveliest smile, very sexy.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Do you feel better now?’ she asked hopefully.

He shook his head; his stomach felt like it was in a tumble dryer. ‘It’s just… I’ve been thinking about the worst-case scenario, you know – she thinks I’m hideous and makes some excuse that she left the gas on and leaves, or we’re on the date and she turns out to be more unhinged than Kathy Bates in
Misery
– but then it occurred to me, what if everything goes really well? What if it goes so well we end up back at her place or back here and…?’

‘And?’ she prompted.

‘I haven’t had sex in years, Libby, and by all accounts I wasn’t very good at it in the first place. What if I’m crap?’

‘Practice makes perfect, George; just tell her it’s been a while. I’m sure, unless she’s a complete cow, she’ll be very understanding about it, and if she is a complete cow then you probably won’t end up back at her house anyway.’