“So are you seeing him tonight?”
At the reminder that I wouldn’t be seeing him because of his “family thing,” I felt my mood sink. “He disappears every other weekend. He says it’s a family thing and that he’ll explain when the time is right.”
“Withholding information.” Jo raised an eyebrow. “How do you feel about that?”
“What can I do?” I smiled sadly. “He’s not the only one withholding, remember.”
Jo’s expression turned sympathetic and concerned. “Right.”
Thankfully, the sound of the front door opening broke into the suddenly gloomy atmosphere. “It’s me!” Cam called, his footsteps growing louder as he strode toward the sitting room. He smiled at me as he entered the room, carrying a white plastic bag. “Hannah, how are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m good.” I smiled back. “You?”
His eyes flicked to Jo. “Uh, aye, good.”
It took everything in me not to burst out laughing at his hesitation. I was guessing Jo wasn’t the only one who wanted this baby to come out soon.
“Did you get me them?” Jo asked him, her eyes riveted on the plastic bag.
In answer Cam pulled out a packet of pickled onion crisps and a multi-pack of Kit Kat biscuits. Jo frowned at the biscuits. “They’re ordinary two-finger Kit Kats.”
“Aye?” Cam asked in wary confusion.
“I like the king-size Kit Kats.” She pouted at him. I’d never seen Jo pout in my life. “The four-finger Kit Kats. They taste better.”
His answering smile was tight. “Fine. I’ll go back and get them. It’s only an hour’s walk to the supermarket and back.”
“You don’t need to be snippy,” she snapped.
Cam closed his eyes as if he was trying to draw patience from somewhere, anywhere. He opened them, looking at me. “Remind me that I love her.”
Laughing, I did as asked. “Cam, you love Jo. The pre-hormonally challenged Jo. And give or take a month she’ll be back.”
With renewed determination Cameron nodded and stalked out of the flat.
I shot Jo a look of chastisement.
She blinked in confusion. “What?”
“You’re being irrational to Cam.”
“Eh… no. I told him before he left that I wanted the king-size Kit Kats, not the ordinary kind. It’s not my fault he didn’t listen.”
For Cam’s sake, I shuffled over to Jo and placed my hands on her bump. “Cool it in there, Pipsqueak, before your mummy is left alone to see out the rest of this pregnancy with only a king-size Kit Kat for company.”
CHAPTER 16
T
o my delight and surprise, that Sunday afternoon Marco turned up at my door. He offered no explanation other than there had been a change of plans. It thrilled me that he’d come to see me immediately upon said change of plans, even if it bothered me that I didn’t know what said original plans had been.
It thrilled me even more when he absconded with me down onto Princes Street to the German market. It was there every December for Christmas, along with the small fairground and the ice rink. We ate iced pastries, drank coffee, and held hands as we shuffled through the crowds. As we were walking through the gardens, the light fading, the Christmas lights twinkling all around, I smiled down at the ice rink in the distance.
“That looks fun.”
Marco pulled me tighter into his side. “That looks cold.”
“I used to ice-skate in the gardens every Christmas when I was younger. I don’t know why I stopped.”
“Because it’s cold.”
“It’s worth it.” I grinned up into his face. “We should do it.”
“There’s no way I’m putting my feet on ice.”
“You won’t. You’ll put skates on ice.”
“There’s no way I’m putting my feet in rented skates.”
I stopped, probably annoying everyone who had to walk around us to continue down the pathway. “Please,” I pleaded.
He stared at me, completely unmoved.
Realizing this was one occasion where being adorable wouldn’t work for me, I changed it up. Instead, I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re afraid to skate.”
“Reverse psychology? Really?”
I huffed, laughing half in amusement and half in annoyance as I pushed against his chest. “Come on. I want to skate with you. We’ll be like a perfect, romantic Christmas card. Except not vomit-inducing.”
Fifteen minutes later…
“Hannah, I don’t think you should do that,” Marco warned, crossing his arms over his chest as I showed off.
For someone who was as big as he was and who hadn’t skated much, Marco had great balance. He hadn’t fallen on his arse once, although he’d stuck to the outer edges of the rink in hopes that I’d let him disembark soon.
I was surprised by how easily skating came back to me, how quickly my body remembered how to balance on the skates. I glided around the rink a couple of times, passing a slow-moving Marco.
I wanted to show him the spin I used to be able to do, but people kept getting in my way.
“It’s fine,” I promised him, smiling.