Lucas is standing in the doorway to the hotel, framed by Grigg, Sameera, and Jem.
I can’t compute it. They don’t quite look real. But then they descend on me, burying me in one big hug, and behind us on the makeshift bedsheet screen the da Silvas are yelling Feliz Natal!
“Oh my God!” I say, emerging from the middle of the huddle and swiping my hair out of my face. “How are you all here?”
“Lucas,” Jem says, wearing her widest, warmest smile.
Sameera tucks my hair behind my ears and kisses me on the forehead as my eyes fill with tears.
“You! You!” she says. “Lying to all of us about where you were spending Christmas! This is not the time or place, but as soon as the festivities are over, I am going to have a right go at you. Oh, God, it’s so good to see you!”
“Lucas told on me?” I say, wiping my eyes as Grigg pulls me in for another hug. “You guys! You should be in the Outer Hebrides! And you should be in America!” I say to Jem.
“We fly back tonight,” Sameera tells me, grinning at Grigg. “His mum would kill us if we missed Christmas lunch, and I can’t be away from Rupe any longer or I will literally explode. But Jem is staying, right?”
“Absolutely,” Jem says. “As soon as Lucas messaged me, I thought . . . What am I doing here, being told it’s not too late for me to turn my life around, when I could be with people who love me and the life I’ve chosen? So Piddles and I jumped on the next flight.”
I squeeze her arm. I know that will have been a lot harder than she’s making it sound. Behind her, Lucas’s sister is yelling at him in fast Portuguese; Grigg and Sameera move aside so I can see Lucas’s expression, and it’s like going back in time and seeing what Lucas would have looked like as a little boy. His face has just lit up. Pure, stripped-back, childlike delight.
“Izzy!” Lucas’s mum calls. “Izzy, thank you for having us!”
“Oh my gosh, thank you for being here!” I shout up at the giant image hanging above the crowd, all of whom are staring at these goings-on with delight and/or bewilderment. “With very little notice! I know the twenty-fourth is the big day over there, and you’re right in the thick of Christmas, so thank you for taking the time.”
“Always, for Lucas,” she says, looking down at her son. “Love you. Miss you.”
“Saudade,” Lucas says, and he holds his hand to his heart, where the word is tattooed on his skin. “T? com muita saudade.”
“Tell them about the flights,” I say, coming to stand beside him.
“Feliz Natal!” shouts a little girl, popping up in the corner of the screen. One of the cousins, presumably, and totally adorable.
Lucas laughs. “Helena! Feliz Natal!”
“What flights?” says Ana. She was the one who set this up for me—I found her on Instagram last night. She loved the idea. It was Ana who came up with using the bedsheets.
“We’re coming home in February,” Lucas says, face breaking into another boyish grin.
“We!” Lucas’s mother shrieks in delight.
Lucas laughs and takes my hand. “Yes, both of us,” he says.
“That is, if you’ll have me,” I add.
“We’ve wanted you since that first photo, amiga,” Ana says. “Anyone who annoys Lucas that much belongs in this family.”
They stay for almost an hour. Helena and her brother learn how to say “I want more sweeties” in English, thanks to the potentially quite dangerous influence of Ruby Hedgers, and Ruby learns how to say “I want to go to Rio de Janeiro!” in Brazilian Portuguese, which might be a problem for Mr. and Mrs. Hedgers, given the cost of flights. But having the da Silvas hanging out over the party takes everything up a notch. By the time Arjun declares the evening buffet open, complete with an array of desserts in the orangery, everyone is very loud, very happy, and—for the most part—very drunk.
“Your friend, she’s so beautiful!” Pedro shouts at me as we dance.
He’s here as a guest but spent at least an hour helping Arjun in the kitchen, and doubled up as a magician for a while when our actual magician had to take a phone call. We are not afraid to accept a favour here at Forest Manor Hotel, and it turns out Lucas’s friend is way too generous for his own good.
“Jem, you mean?”
I look back at her—she’s dancing with a few of the women from housekeeping, eyes closed, hips swaying. She’s in her favourite dress, the red velvet one with a sweetheart neckline, and her dark brown skin is sprayed with fine gold glitter. All her piercings are gold today, too, shining under the Christmas lights. She does look gorgeous.
Pedro is already angling to dance her way.
“Pedro sleeps with women and never calls them back,” Lucas says in my ear, dancing behind me. “I’m sorry. I thought I should say.”
I laugh, turning to wind my arms around his neck so we can dance the way we did on that strange, snowy day in London.
“That won’t work with Jem,” I say, half to Lucas, half to Pedro. “She’s demisexual. She has to form an emotional connection first—she would never sleep with a guy she’s only just met.”
Pedro stares at me, abruptly abandoning his dance moves. “Demi . . . sexual?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So she won’t want to sleep with me?”
“Not unless you’ve built an emotional relationship, no.”
“Emotional?” Pedro says, looking positively panicked.
“It’s nice, Pedro.” I’m trying not to laugh. “You should try it sometime.”
A tap on the shoulder distracts me from Pedro’s wide, anxious eyes.
Ugh.
Louis Keele. I tighten my arm around Lucas’s waist as we both turn to look at him. Louis is wearing a casual smile, a crisp shirt, and a little too much cologne. I glance up at Lucas. He’s wearing a familiar glower.
“Hey, you two, I was hoping to catch you,” Louis says. Very relaxed and friendly. No suggestion that last time he saw me he was viciously unpleasant, but I suspected he’d play it this way after his “no hard feelings” text. “I thought I should give you a heads-up about my new investment,” he continues, his smile beginning to look more like a smirk. “Only fair. An old schoolhouse in Fordingbridge came on to the market and I just . . . Well. I couldn’t resist. It’s going to make a beautiful hotel.”
“You . . . are opening a hotel?” Lucas says.
“Oh my God,” I say before Louis can answer. “Is that why you were asking so many questions about Forest Manor?” My voice rises. “Were you ever considering actually investing? Or were you just trying to steal all our best ideas?”
“I was considering investing,” Louis says, extremely insincerely.
“You wanted to poach Arjun, didn’t you?” I say, advancing on Louis with a pointing finger.
Lucas tightens his grip on me. “Easy,” he says, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Who wouldn’t want to poach Arjun?” Louis says. “He’s the best chef in the New Forest. He wouldn’t budge, though. You lot really have your claws in him.”
“And what insults did you have for Arjun when you failed to seduce him?” Lucas asks politely. “Is he a small, mousey nobody, too?”
Louis’s eyes flick to mine. I smile, as if to say, Yes, of course I told him everything. Yes, we are mutually deciding not to destroy you. No, I am not confident I can prevent him from breaking rank and beating you to a pulp if he so chooses.
Louis swallows. “Look, like I say, I just wanted to give you the heads-up. There’s a bit of competition on the horizon.”
I pull myself up as tall as I can, and only wobble slightly in the process—not bad, three cocktails down.
“Well,” I say, in my sweetest voice. “That won’t be a problem. Lucas and I love a bit of competition.”
Lucas