Winter's Fairytale

‘Night, Rob.’

He bent down and kissed me on the cheek.

‘Sleep well.’ he said before turning and heading towards the bathroom. I watched him go. It was kind of hard not to. He looked pretty gorgeous in a suit. In pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt he looked… I stopped myself. What on Earth was I doing? This was Rob. We were friends. And he’d even said earlier he wasn’t looking for anything from me, other than friendship. And I wasn’t looking for anything other than that right now either. If I was, I’d have jumped on the hot Italian from earlier. But I didn’t. Because I wasn’t ready for anything like that in my life right now. But I still couldn’t help watching Rob walk away. My eyes slid to his feet. No socks. Ha! I knew it. Sabotage.

Chapter Six (#ulink_b522381a-a91e-5972-867d-dc0177a55717)

I was sat on the floor of Rob’s living room the next morning, my papers spread all around me, when he wandered in, still dressed in his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. His face had a sleepy look to it and his jaw showed a distinct hint of scruff.

‘Morning.’

‘Morning!’ I replied, my eyes going back to my work.

‘How’s your bum?’

‘Absolutely fine, thank you. Yours?’

He laughed and shoved a coffee pot sachet in his machine and pressed a button. Leaving it to run, he came over and crouched down to where I was sat with his lovely warm blanket around me. He pulled it back and peered around it, and the acres of pyjama top, to where I was sat on a large and, more importantly, soft cushion. He brought his gaze up to where I was purposefully avoiding meeting it.

‘Ok. So I bruised it a bit.’

He let the blanket fall back and stood up.

‘Did you get yourself coffee?’

‘No, I thought I’d wait for you.’ I glanced up.

He smiled at me and a few minutes later placed two cups of coffee and a pile of toast on the breakfast bar. I climbed up from my perch atop the cushion and padded over to one of the seats facing the window. Rob took the one next to me. I picked up one of the coffees. Wrapping my hands around it, I looked out at the snow.

‘Doesn’t look like it’s stopped all night.’

He shook his head. ‘Nope.’ he said, simply, snagging a piece of toast and leaning back in his chair to reach for a knife for the marmalade out of the drawer. I watched him for a moment and pictured the scene ending badly. Hopping up, I walked over the few steps to the cutlery drawer, pulled it out, took a knife and handed it to Rob.

‘Oh thanks.’ he said, oblivious to the scenario I’d run in my head.

I returned to my chair and hoisted myself back up onto it. It occurred to me that this was the perfect situation in which to find myself feeling self-conscious. I was sat in someone else’s kitchen, wearing someone else’s pyjamas and little else. But I didn’t. And it wasn’t just the fact that Rob’s top was about three times bigger than some of my dresses. It just felt comfortable with him. Talking. Not talking. Getting up to get cutlery for him so that we didn’t end up with matching bruised bums.

‘What are you working on?’ he asked, nodding his head to the side at the pile of stuff I’d left on the floor.

‘I have a bride who’s getting married in a castle, over in Ireland, and she wants a dress that reflects the history, but doesn’t look like a costume.’

Rob took another bite of toast and swallowed. ‘Can you do that?’

I nodded. ‘Of course.’

We sat for a few more moments.

‘Rob, I think I need to try and get over to Mags’ place today. It’s obvious I’m still not going to get home but I can’t stay here again–’

‘Why not?’ He wasn’t tetchy. He was just asking.

‘Well, because I’m sure you’ve got plenty of things to do and I just…’ have no idea what I’m trying to say.

‘Look out there, Izz. I don’t think anyone’s going to be doing much of anything today apart from staying in and keeping warm. Which is a plan that sounds pretty damn good to me. I know you’d probably prefer to be at Mags’ place right now, and if that’s what you really want, I’ll do my best to help you get there – but I can pretty much guarantee that those shoes you love so much will be completely ruined by the time you do.’

Oh yes. Right. Snow plus gorgeous new shoes which were certainly not made for navigating snowy pavements. Yep, he had a point. That was a bit of an issue.

‘This “Castle Bride”, is that something you have to get done this weekend?’

I nodded. ‘Well, yes, ideally. I said I’d send her something over, just some basic ideas to start with, by the end of tomorrow.’

‘Ok. Well, I’ve got some papers to look at too so if you’re happy that you have everything you need to get on with things here, then why don’t we just get our work done and reassess the situation later?’

‘Ok.’ I nodded.

‘Great! Oh, your dress should be dry. I put it in the machine last night.’

‘Oh, thanks!’ I hopped up from my seat and moved over to dishwasher where I began loading the breakfast plates in.

‘I’m just going to take a shower. Unless you want to go first?’ Rob hesitated at the doorway.

‘No, it’s fine,’ I said, now reaching in to the dryer to pull out my clothes, ‘I’ll just– oh no!’

‘What’s wrong?’ He frowned, padding back in slowly.

I pulled my dress out of the dryer and laid it over the back of the seat. Rob glanced at it.

‘Am I missing something because it looks – oh!’

I was holding up my beautiful designer cashmere cardigan. The colour of cornflowers in summer, I’d spent ages deciding whether to buy it, and had finally splashed out in celebration when my very first bride walked down the aisle. As soft and gorgeous as I’d imagined, and adding style and elegance to my outfit, it had been perfect. And it was still perfect. Assuming you were the size of a three-year-old.

I still hadn’t said anything and Rob still hadn’t moved any closer.

‘I’m guessing that label must say “Do Not Tumble”.’ he eventually volunteered.

A nod and a strangulated noise came from me as I laid my gorgeous, now tiny, cardi on the counter. There really was no rectifying this. It was gone.

‘I’m so sorry, Izzy. I’ll get you another one.’

I shook my head and finally looked at him. ‘It’s all right. Really. It’s just a jumper.’ Which was true. It was just a jumper. Just some wool all knitted up. That’s all. And I knew that Rob would want to replace it, whatever I said. It’s just that this one had such special memories attached to it – that first dress, all the way from design to completion. And the bride had been so insistent on having me there on the day because she was so happy with her dress and wanted to share that joy with me. And now I wouldn’t wear it again. I felt stupid at being upset over a bunch of wool, but there we are.

‘It’s not just a jumper though, is it?’ Rob asked.

I looked back up and shoved all the silliness aside. ‘Of course it is. Don’t worry about it! Thank you for drying the rest of my clothes, anyway,’ I hurried over in my head the fact that my underwear was also in there, and Rob would have had a good eyeful of that.

He held my gaze a moment then turned and headed back towards the bedrooms. ‘You can grab a shower first if you’d like. I’m going for a run.’

‘What, now?’ I called to him.