“Maybe he’s just enjoying his Christmas?”
I laugh. “Not with his parents. Elliot always says that his mum and dad think ‘fun’ is a four-letter word.”
Noah places a pair of Santa-shaped salt and pepper pots in the center of the table. “I’m sure he’ll text soon.”
It suddenly dawns on me that ever since I’ve been here I’ve never seen Noah on his mobile phone. “How come you’re never on your phone?” I ask, instantly squirming for being too nosy.
“I’m on a detox over Christmas,” Noah says with a grin.
I look at him questioningly.
“An Internet and cell-phone detox. You should try it some time. It’s liberating.”
I frown. Much as my experience with the Unicorn Pants from Hell video was unpleasant and hurtful, I can’t imagine life without the Internet or my phone.
“Go on, I dare you,” Noah says. “Step away from the cell phone.”
I laugh. “OK, but if I start twitching or having any kind of weird withdrawal symptoms I’m getting it straight back.”
“Sure.” Noah’s face goes all serious for a moment. “Sometimes I really hate the Internet, you know?”
I stop laying out napkins and look at him. “Why?”
He sighs. “It’s not—”
“Are you guys finished?” Mum comes into the room, holding a glass of wine. Her hair is hanging loose around her shoulders and her face is glowing. It’s lovely seeing her looking so relaxed.
“Pretty much,” Noah says.
“Make way, make way, incoming turkey,” Dad calls, walking into the room carrying a humongous roast turkey on a silver platter.
I turn my phone off and sit down at the table.
• • •
The Christmas dinner is so delicious we decide to start a charity collection for every time someone says, “Mmmm!” Kind of like a food version of a swear box. By the time we’ve finished dessert—all four of them—we’ve collected twenty-seven dollars.
“Gift time! Gift time!” Bella shrieks, leaping from the table.
The rest of us all look at each other and raise our eyebrows.
“I actually don’t think I can move,” Noah says, slumped back in his chair. “It feels like I have a food boulder in my stomach.”
“Me too,” Dad says. He looks at Mum. “You might have to give me a piggyback, sweetheart.”
Mum laughs. “No chance!”
In the end, we all somehow manage to stumble and stagger through to the living room, where Bella is already sorting the gifts under the trees into piles.
“I have a lot more gifts than you,” she says to me solemnly, “but that’s OK because I’m a child and they said on the news the other day that Christmas is for children, didn’t they, Grandma?”
Sadie Lee laughs. “Yes, they did, honey.”
“And if I get anything that I don’t really like, I’ll give it to you, ’kay?” Bella takes my hand and holds it tightly.
“That’s so sweet of you,” I tell her solemnly, “but it’s OK—I really don’t mind.”
Bella grins and bounds back to her pile of gifts.
Noah and I are the last people to exchange gifts. As I watch him unwrap the record, I’m hit by a wave of doubt. What if he hates it? What if it’s totally the wrong thing? What if Slim Daniels was wrong and it’s not an “awesome choice” at all? But from the way Noah is grinning as he takes the record out of its paper, I think I chose well.
“How did you know?” Noah looks at me, wide-eyed. “I love this guy’s music—I’ve wanted this album for years.” He looks at Sadie Lee questioningly.
“I didn’t tell her,” Sadie Lee says with a smile.
Noah and I look at each other and I mentally add “knowing exactly what to get him for Christmas” to my list of soul mate evidence.
After Noah slipped the record out to sniff it, he hands me a gift that has the same amount of tape as paper. “Sorry about all the tape,” he mumbles. “Gift wrapping isn’t my strongest suit.”
“That’s OK,” I say, trying to make a tear in the paper, but it’s impossible as it’s covered in so much tape. “Er, does anyone have a knife?”
In the end, with the help of the pointy end of a bottle opener, I manage to get into the parcel. Inside is a beautiful hardback book of old black-and-white photographs of New York.
“I thought with you being into photography and all . . .” I can tell from the hopeful way he’s looking at me that he really wants me to like it. “If you prefer more modern photography I can take it back and get it changed. I—”
“No, it’s perfect. Black-and-white photos are my favorite—they’re like little moments of history captured forever.”
We look at each other and I feel that closeness again, that sense that we already know each other. I get the overwhelming urge to kiss Noah. If only we weren’t surrounded by our families.
As if reading my mind, Noah gets to his feet. “Do you want to go get a soda?” he asks.
At least, that’s what I think he says. I’m so overcome by the need to kiss him I can barely hear a word. I nod and follow him out of the room. Thankfully the others are way too engrossed in their gifts to notice.
When we get out into the hallway, Noah stops by the grandfather clock. The huge pendulum seems to be ticktocking in time with my pounding heart.