Christmas Under the Stars

‘Listen, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,’ Ronnie said, spreading an avocado on her toast and drizzling it with chilli oil.

Meg watched, mesmerized that this was what people ate for breakfast here. Whatever happened to cereal or pancakes and waffles? ‘Ron, I leapt like a freaking salmon,’ she moaned, reliving the mortification again and again. She had barely slept, her brain trying to process what her body had done, as she tossed and turned. What was wrong with her? So he’d touched her backside? No, grazed it. So what? She wasn’t ten! And as for . . . Oh, God. ‘We forgot to feed the freaking budgie?’ Who said that? Who? Who?

Ronnie pulled a sympathetic face. ‘You’ve just got to try to think of it as a compliment that he’s attracted to you. After all, you are going to have to get used to the idea that guys like you, regardless of whether you choose to act on it.’

But Meg just groaned. Her phone beeped with a new email and she clicked on it uninterestedly. Another Gap sale? Lucy wanting to know if Ronnie had made her cry yet . . . ?

‘So listen, what do you want to do about today? Are we going to go out on the boat?’

Meg stared at the email, her heart accelerating to a gallop as she saw who it was from. She had a delayed reaction of at least five seconds before she heard what Ronnie had said and looked up in surprise. ‘Jack’s boat?’

Ronnie shrugged. ‘He’s texted, reiterating the offer about joining them, but listen, it’s no biggie to me. I don’t want you to feel awkward. I’m only mentioning it ’cause I need to get back to him.’ She took in Meg’s face – sort of frozen. ‘But . . . you know what? I’ll just say we’ve got plans.’

Meg watched her, knowing that her sister was protesting too much. ‘But you really like him.’

Ronnie’s gaze flickered up to hers and then back down again. ‘I can see him any time. I’ll see him at work when I get back. We can grab a coffee maybe.’

‘Grab a coffee? Instead of lounging around on his boat? I don’t think so.’

‘Absolutely. I over-reacted last night. You were right. I have to get used to . . .’

From: Jonas Solberg

Subject: Hello from the other side

Hey there, Dog-Dog-Ellie,

So, as you may have heard, it wasn’t exactly the re-entry we wanted but I guess it’s true what they say about coming back to Earth with a bump. The bad news is that gravity and I are not friends right now. Even just typing this is taking more strength than I can fathom. On the bright side, it should only be for a few days. Well, weeks maybe. Remember how I said I was looking forward to walking again? I take it back. The soles of my feet are so tender, I’m having to wear Crocs to get around. Really not a good look. It’s as well only astronauts and scientists are seeing me right now. (Although did you see my Kazakh return outfit? Hoping not.)

How was Toronto? Did you sip martinis at Soho House?

I’m now stuck at Houston being tested around the clock so all and any news of the outside world is welcomed! Arms too feeble to type more. Write back.

PS Joke to follow. Sorry.

‘I still can’t believe this is a lake and not a sea,’ Meg said, her eyes on the distant horizon as they walked down the boardwalks of the Outer Harbour Marina together, each carrying a tote – Meg’s contained rolled-up towels and a change of swimwear; Ronnie’s had a bottle of wine, some olives, pastrami, crackers and a selection of dips.

Sunlight winked on the still water, as bright as pennies, as darting as fishes, the chandlery rigging reels clanking like tin cups in the breeze. Both Jack and Hap were already there, Jack bare-chested and wearing navy shorts as he wound in the mainsail, prompting Ronnie to whistle under her breath at the sight of his toned physique.

‘Yeah? Who cares? Hold me back!’ she whispered excitedly, shooting Meg a mischievous look.

Meg rolled her eyes and groaned but in truth, she was happy to see her sister falling for someone at last. Nervously, she watched Hap, who was checking the bow ropes were clear, pulling them out of the water with a pole. He had his back to them and was wearing jeans (rolled up, natch) and a grey T-shirt and looking rather less metrosexual than last night.

The boat was bigger than she had anticipated. Jack’s modesty had led her to imagine it was just big enough to buzz about in the bay, but this was a six-metre motorized sailing boat with a navy hull and turquoise pencil line, although it looked fairly old, the paintwork dull, and she supposed it had been bought as a refurbishment project.

‘Balm, huh?’ Ronnie called out, reciting the boat’s name. ‘I’m guessing that’s a deliberate antidote to “trauma”?’

Jack turned and smiled at the sight of her and Meg thought that if he had seen them coming, then he was a good actor. ‘Exactly! I told you it’s my escape,’ he said, ducking under the boom and jogging carefully over the deck to them. ‘I’m glad you could come,’ he said to them both, hands on hips, but his eyes returning to Ronnie.

‘Great,’ Meg nodded shyly, feeling his eyes upon her. It didn’t matter what excuses they’d used to make their escape last night, he knew perfectly well that she had bolted the moment he’d touched her backside.

‘But at least it was quick,’ Ronnie said gravely. ‘It’s something to know that she didn’t suffer.’

‘Sure,’ Jack nodded, looking handsome and so earnest as he stood there, hands still on hips. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re not so upset you didn’t come out here.’

‘Oh, hey, we’re doctors. Death’s just an everyday part of life for us, right?’ Ronnie said lightly, dismissing the non-existent, now-dead budgie from all their minds.

Meg stole a glance at Hap, but he was already looking at her and the expression in his eyes told her that he wasn’t buying the story for a second.

‘Well, here, let me take the bags,’ Jack said, reaching out for them. The girls swung them into his grasp and Hap held his hand out to take them by the arm as they stepped on board. He held Meg’s arm a fraction longer than she thought was necessary and as she looked up at him, she felt that jolt again that she’d felt last night when their eyes had met.

She pulled away quickly, eyes down, as she followed Ronnie down to the cabin to stow their bags. If he thought something was going to happen between them, that this was a date between them, he was wrong. She was going to have to make that patently clear.

‘I guess we do have to do this sooner or later, right?’ Ronnie giggled, pulling off her T-shirt and shorts to reveal her tiny black triangle bikini with neon trim.

Meg took a deep breath and pulled off her own top and shorts – she was in one of Ronnie’s spare bikinis, an Aztec-print, blue-and-white bandeau style, after Ronnie had deemed her navy racing swimsuit too ‘Victorian’.

‘Hey!’ Jack said, his smile widening as they reappeared, scantily clad. ‘Let’s cast off then.’

‘Can we do anything to help?’ Ronnie asked casually. ‘We’re not complete strangers to boat life.’

‘No?’ Jack asked, throwing the rope onto the boardwalk as Hap untethered the bow line.

‘Our dad took us sailing a few times when we were little,’ Ronnie said. ‘I may even be able to remember my bosun knots,’ she grinned.

‘Now that’s just a challenge to my authority!’ Jack cried, clambering across the deck and jumping down by the wheel, beside Ronnie. She gave a small yelp of delight. ‘I don’t believe this, Hap – we’ve not even left harbour and already there’s mutiny!’

Hap grinned as he made his way to the stern as well, his eyes lingering on Meg. ‘I have a feeling we’re going to need to keep our wits about us, Jack,’ he quipped as the engines puttered softly beneath the water, propelling them away from the moorings with the wind in their hair – smiles on all their faces.

The bay was deep, so deep they couldn’t see the bottom, although the depth reader was saying it was sixteen metres. Balm bobbed gently on the water’s surface, only the wake from occasional boats further out in the lake rocking them every now and then.

They had eaten all the food – in addition to Ronnie and Meg’s offering of dips, Hap and Jack had brought chicken drumsticks and a ‘very metrosexual’ salad with at least three different types of seeds in, that Meg hoped had been made by Hap – could he be less her type? – as well as a six-pack of beers.

‘Well, I’m with you on the whole “living the dream” thing. I’m not sure a Sunday could be more perfect than this,’ Ronnie sighed from her position lying on her back on the cabin roof.

‘No? Not even a pfannenstiel incision laparotomy?’ Jack teased, watching the way her stomach rose and fell with her breath. Meg knew this because she was watching him watch her sister.

Ronnie sucked in through her teeth, conflicted. ‘Oh, that’s not fair!’ she cried and the two of them fell into laughter again. The creation of their very own in-jokes had already begun.

Hap looked over at Meg. ‘Doctor humour,’ he muttered with a sardonic expression. He was sitting on the captain’s chair, one foot up on the controls, and Meg had been trying very hard not to notice the blond hairs on his legs. Mitch’s had been dark and she’d always liked how masculine they’d looked, perhaps because they were so completely the opposite of her own.

Meg’s head jerked up. He’d what? Why? In her peripheral vision, she saw Ronnie’s attention was caught too.

‘About your design portfolio, I mean,’ he added, but that look in his eyes that he seemed to get when he looked at her . . . she felt like he was testing her, provoking her, trying to establish how easily she startled – to which he now surely knew the answer was ‘very’. ‘I’ve got a friend who works for Kate Spade. You know her? The handbag and acc—’

He nodded, amused by her prickliness. ‘Well, they’re looking to do a rebrand – everything from the store fronts to the tissue paper to the purse linings. It’s a big gig.’

Meg stared at him, her stomach feeling empty, in spite of the huge lunch she’d just devoured. (She didn’t know what was going on with her appetite. Since getting here, she’d been ravenous, as though her body had woken up to the fact that she’d been eating at a subsistence level for four months.)

‘Anyway, I think you’d have a great shot at it. After you . . . uh, left last night –’ he made his gaze more pointed, bringing them both back to that moment, the one that had made her run – ‘I went back to my hotel and looked at the Titch boards in more detail. I mean, I was obsessed with the Crush series but I didn’t really know your other stuff.’ He looked impressed. ‘You should definitely speak to her.’

‘But . . . but they’re in New York and I’m in Alberta.’ Panic wrapped around her like a comforting cardigan – familiar and well-used.

‘Listen, it’s still early days – they’d want to see your portfolio first. But they’d fly you in if things got serious. Or they could do video-conferencing. You don’t necessarily have to be in the same room as them to fulfil the brief.’

Ronnie, Meg noticed suddenly, was sitting bolt upright. ‘Oh, my God, this is amazing. Meg! You’ve got to go for it.’

Did she? Did she really? It had been one thing designing the boards for the boys. They’d given her the vaguest of briefs – ‘something cool’ – and left her to it. It was no brief at all, in fact. Carte blanche. Free rein. That was a very different thing from taking a world-famous brand that all the chic, rich Park Avenue people knew and loved and . . . and completely redesigning it! What did she know about style? She was the girl who wore Patagonia T-shirts and the closest she came to a heel was on a welly boot.

‘Hap, she’s in!’ Ronnie said, answering for her. ‘Don’t let her fret her way out of it. She’ll always find a reason to push it away. Put her name forward.’

Hap looked pleased. ‘I’m glad you said that. I suspected as much myself so I emailed my contact this morning.’ He looked back at Meg. ‘They should be in touch with you sometime in the next few weeks – just for a preliminary chat.’

‘Oh, my God, you didn’t!’ Meg wailed, her hands pulling down on her cheeks.

But everybody laughed – as though her anxiety was amusing and already entirely predictable to this new-found group of four.

‘Last one in does the washing-up!’ Ronnie cried suddenly, running towards the side and launching herself into the water with a perfect dive. Jack, lying on the stern deck, was in barely a moment later.

Meg gasped – forgetting all about her panic for a moment – as she saw it was between her and Hap and she scrambled up onto her feet. Hap, already sitting upright, lost his advantage in that he had to swerve round the main mast, giving Meg just enough time to grab the giant inflatable ring from the side as she took a flying leap. Her feet made contact with the water only a split second before Hap’s, both of them surfacing with gasps as Ronnie and Jack declared her the winner.

‘Ha!’ she crowed, pleased to have got an advantage over him for once, wriggling into the inflatable so that her legs, arms and head lolled over the sides. She gave a heavy sigh as she allowed her body to lie heavily and limply; she’d been so tense since getting on the boat, worried that as things intensified between Ronnie and Jack, Hap might take it as a cue to make his move.

Hap swam slowly over, his nose and mouth submerged below the water so that only his eyes – glittering, full of predatory intent – were visible.

Meg couldn’t help it. She squealed as he ducked underwater, unable to see where he was as she wriggled about in the ring, looking for him. A pinch on her bottom two seconds later pinpointed his whereabouts exactly.

When he surfaced, her mouth was still open with surprise. He laughed again. ‘You’re very easy to shock.’

She closed her mouth, not sure what to say but aware that she looked daft. She glanced at him, away again, at him, away again. She didn’t trust him, wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do next. Her heart was racketing along at full pelt.

He drifted over to her, holding onto the side of the inflatable and pulling himself up slightly, his eyeline straight at her breasts, although he had the decency to look her in the eye. ‘Tell me – there’s something I really have to know.’ His voice was low, as though he was asking her for a secret.

She swallowed, aware that his fingers were mere centimetres from her thighs, skin on skin. ‘What?’ Her voice was barely more than a croak.

A moment passed as he held her gaze, both of them bobbing lightly on the lake’s surface, the hot sun already drying her stomach and his shoulders, beads of water travelling on brown skin.