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The guy selling the entry tickets was very short, wearing a pair of reindeer antlers and a red nose. He looked like he would rather be anywhere than behind a makeshift desk at a skating rink. There was a large machine that looked like a leaf blower on the counter that he had to keep peering around.
“Sorry ’bout the snow machine,” he said. “It’s for sale if you want to buy it?”
“Yeah, no,” Bright declined. “Just the skating, thanks.” “What size boots do you need?” the guy asked after Bright
had paid, pointing at a shelf to their left lined with ice skates. Bright had to repress a shudder. It was like putting on bowl- ing shoes. The thought made his skin crawl. But Mary was quite literally bouncing up and down with excitement, so he took a pair of skates and they went through the gate.
“Oh, man, sorry. It’s not as big as it looked in the photos,” he told Mary, taking in the rink. It was not much bigger than a backyard swimming pool and crawling with children push- ing penguin aids to help them along the ice. He’d been hop- ing for something a bit more romantic, like in the movies. This one had several giant blow-up snowmen and one giant Santa that looked like he had a slow leak, his face hunched into his neck like he was asleep. The ubiquitous Christmas carols playing on a scratchy speaker couldn’t hide the drone of the motors.
“It never is,” Mary said with a grin. “No, seriously, Bright, it’s amazing.” She led him over to a tiered seat to change into their skates. “I love ice skating.”
Bright had only been once before as a kid, but he put on his skates feeling fairly confident he would do fine. A kid in a full ski outfit whizzed past them, making it look easy.
“Oh, here.” Bright reached into his pocket and pulled out- the purple gloves he’d bought. “You might want these.”
Mary’s face lit up. It was like he’d given her jewellery. She rubbed the angora wool against her face and sighed.
“Thank you, they’re gorgeous. I’m so excited.” She stood and made her way over to the barrier, balancing easily on
her boots, and glided out onto the ice, doing a little swirl and then came back to rest against the side, waiting for him. It was quite tricky, walking on the thin blades, Bright thought, but it would be much easier once he was on the ice. He made it to the edge and then stepped out gingerly,
gripping onto the railing, his feet sliding precariously.
“Do you need a walker?” Mary asked, skating backwards and circling back around to him.
“No,” Bright said, but he kept one hand firmly on the rail as he attempted to move. “No, I’ll be fine, just a little rusty. You go ahead while I get my bearings.”
Mary gave him another huge grin and skated off to do a loop of the rink. He watched her briefly, dodging easily around the other skaters, but then he wobbled again and almost lost his footing. Concentrating hard (how difficult could it be to move one foot in front of the other?) he let go of the rail and shuffled slowly forward. Mary skated back to him, cheeks pink and eyes shiny.
“You’re doing great.” She spun backwards in front of him and held out both hands. “Here. We’ll take it slowly.”
There was some innuendo in there, Bright thought, but he tentatively reached out and felt her firm grip. For someone so tiny, she was strong and solid. They made it all the way around, and then Mary released one hand and they did an- other circle side by side. They crawled along and he flailed about but Mary adjusted her pace to his.
“Sorry I’m so slow,” he said.
“I don’t mind. I’m having the best time.” Two small girls, giggling, passed them. “Here, try this,” Mary said. “Keep your feet about shoulder-width apart and your shoulders back.” She demonstrated and Bright copied. “Now keep your weight on the back half of the skates. Better?”
It was. He felt less like a gormless giraffe. They skated, Mary humming along to ‘Joy to the World’.
“Do you want me to let go of your hand now?”
“Never,” Bright said. But she let his hand go. He looked over at her and had the thought that he’d like to do this again sometime, but in winter, on a proper rink, with real snow and sleigh bells ...
Something smashed into the back of his legs and he felt himself lurch. He almost managed to steady himself again. Then he teetered, his feet shot out in front of him and he crashed to the ground. The kid with the penguin skater who had collided with him charged on obliviously.
“Bright, are you okay?” Mary held out a hand and pulled him to his feet.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He was going to have a massive bruise on his arse the next morning and his knee was a bit sore.
“Do you want to stop? There’s a coffee stand, if you want to sit down.”
“Nah, let’s keep going. I felt like I was finally getting into my stride.” He really wasn’t, but he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to spoil her fun. And she might hold his hand again.
Mary laughed and reached out her hand. “You were im- proving,” she said. “Not sure about getting into your stride, but we’ve still got a few minutes left for you to show me your stuff.”
The kid who had crashed into Bright had stopped in front of them, hunched over his walker. Mary started to guide them around him when there was a gagging sound and the kid projectile vomited, a stream of sticky blue spreading across the white ice.
The bell rang to end the session. “Everyone off the ice.
Please make your way to the entrance.”
––––––––
The warm fug of the air outside was jarring after the chill of the ice rink. Mary pulled off her gloves. They were the same colour as her hair and Bright wondered whether he’d realised that when he bought them.
“Shall we get hot chocolate?” she asked.
He took her hand and pulled her to the side so that they were concealed between a fake Christmas tree and a blow- up snowman. “What would you say if I told you we were standing under some mistletoe right now?”
Mary glanced up. They weren’t. For a second she looked confused but then she smiled. “I’d say you should kiss me.”
So he did. This time without an audience he kissed her properly. Her lips were warm and soft and she brought her hands up and placed them solidly against his back. He could
feel them against his T-shirt and pulled her closer. When he paused for a breath, she kissed him again.
“That day under the mistletoe?” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “This is what I really wanted to do.”
“If you had, Lois would have fainted for real.” “Do you think she was faking it?”
Mary snorted. “She was definitely faking it. That was a mi- raculous recovery.”
“Wait a minute. Do you think she locked us in the cinema too?”
“And took our phones.”
“Well, that would explain the weird pat she gave my bum.” “Well, it is a very nice bum. Hopefully not too bruised af- ter hitting the ice.” She stepped closer towards him. “Damn
Dougal opening that door too soon.”
Bright cleared his throat. “I don’t want to be presumptu- ous, and we can get hot chocolate here if you’d rather. But I made some eggnog and I was wondering ... would you like to come back to my place?”
“I’d love to go back to yours for eggnog,” Mary said. “We might even get round to drinking it.”
Bright choked out a laugh. He kissed her again and then took her hand and they speed-walked back to the car.
––––––––
Bright fumbled with the key to his house, not wanting to let go of Mary’s hand. They had been leaning against the door
and, when he managed to get it open, they stumbled inside. He wanted to kiss Mary against the wall, to pick her up and cup her bum while he carried her upstairs ...
“Surprise. Sorry, mate, I hope you don’t mind that we let ourselves in.”
“Uncle Bright, we’ve been waiting for you for ages.”
Bright noticed the suitcases in the foyer. Bern, Di and the kids stared back from where they sat, in a row, on his sofa.
CHAPTER 34
In 1826, eggnog caused a riot at the West Point military academy Christmas party when, despite a no-alcohol policy, cadets partied with the spiked drink. The festivities led to two assaults and the destruction of
the barracks. Dozens of cadets were brought up on charges and suspended.