Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Merry Christmas.”

Aron opened his eyes. Paul knelt before him, wearing a Santa hat and nothing else. He looked perfect. Instantly Aron’s cock sprang to attention. The Paul Higgs effect was startling.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he replied. “You look good enough to eat.”

Paul kissed him. Aron feared he would have morning breath.

Alas, I’m putty in this man’s hands. If he wants a little tongue action, who am I to refuse him?

The grandfather clock at the top of the stairs struck eight.

“Shit,” Paul said. “Dad will be here any minute.”

“How nice would it be to spend Christmas Day in bed?” Aron replied. He stretched.

Last year, Aron had done just that. Of course, he hadn’t had an invitation to the Higgs family Christmas. Granny had offered to come out but he would be depriving her of his siblings so he’d pretended to be going to a friend’s house on Long Island.

That wasn’t to say he hadn’t enjoyed his day. In preparation he’d gone to the market the day before and filled a basket with all his favourite foods. Then he’d enjoyed a running buffet while watching the best movies he could find.

There hadn’t been any arguments. Heaven.

“Come on,” Paul said, getting off the bed.

Aron obeyed. He padded over to the window. It was a dark morning yet mercifully dry. The huge marquee dominated the view. Unsurprisingly not one house had raised a complaint when he and Mercury had knocked on doors. He supposed it to be an act of survival on their part. Granny never forgot.

He smiled when he thought of his grandmother. He had her all to himself that morning.

“Right then,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this Christmas show on the road.”

Paul drew him close and kissed him again. It was a long, luxurious Christmas kiss that sent shockwaves all over Aron’s body.

“You’ll have to keep until later,” Aron murmured.

“Not tonight, lover,” Paul replied. “The happy couple will have to sleep apart on the wedding eve.”

Aron ran his fingertip over Paul’s muscular shoulder. There was no way he was missing the chance to feel that body against his own on Christmas night.

“I’m sure we can think of something,” he said. “After all, we’re on the same street.”

Paul winked. “I’m always up for an assignation with an exceptionally handsome neighbour.”

Aron dropped to his knees.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked.

“Making us late.”

Aron showered in record time and put on his best Christmas jumper. The one with all four Power Rangers spelling XMAS. By the time he came downstairs, the Professor was in the kitchen.

“ I am as light as a feather. I am as happy as an angel .”

“ I am as merry as a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man .”

“Merry Christmas, Prof.”

“Glad tidings to you too, young man.”

Aron clapped the Professor on the shoulder. “No one quite says Christmas other than Dickens.”

“You won’t get any argument from me.”

Aron sat down on a kitchen stool. “It’s a shame you can’t get over to New York. I’d love to show you the writing desk.”

The Professor looked rueful. “We could have honeymooned there, I suppose. Too late now. I’ve booked somewhere wonderful.”

It dawned on Aron that Granny and the Professor may not be perfectly aligned on that score. A potential hiccup that he hadn’t allowed for.

“Where have you booked?” he asked as innocently as he could.

Unfortunately, the Professor tapped his nose.

“All will be revealed,” he said. “I can’t trust you not to report back. Sorry, son.”

Aron clutched his chest. “Professor! I’m appalled.

Oh well. They would be married by then. The Professor was on his own.

“I take it Granny is up.”

The Professor nodded. “I’m surprised you can’t hear the carols from here. She had them booming out of those speakers when I left.”

Aron beamed. After the hard work of the previous days, he was looking forward to the forthcoming festivities. A day of rest before the final mission.

The Professor seemed tired. Aron hoped he wouldn’t collapse before the wedding.

“I’d better go and get things underway. I’ve got her the best present.”

“I hope it’s nothing too large. Both our houses are full as it is.”

Aron squeezed his nearly step grandfather’s shoulder. “Have no fear. I’m the sensible one in our family, remember?”

“You?” Paul said, bounding into the kitchen. He looked sensational in a blue cord shirt and faded jeans. Aron worried he might be dribbling. “I could think of a lot of words for you but sensible isn’t one of them.”

“Now, now,” the Professor said. “Let’s play nice today.”

Aron and Paul shared a knowing glance. They had been playing nicely ever since the impromptu house swap.

“I’ll see you later,” Aron said, putting his jacket on. “And don’t be late. I won’t defend you.”

With one final glance at Paul, he left them to it. Out on the street it was pouring with rain. The marquee still held firm.

He dashed up the paving stones. He couldn’t wait to give Granny her gift. Every year they tried to outdo each other with techy presents. This year, he’d nailed it. Thank you, New York City.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the change in sleeping arrangements.”

Aron snapped to attention. Alexander hung out of his first-floor drawing room window.

“Nothing to do with me and please don’t ask me to elaborate on this day of all days.”

Alexander frowned then realisation dawned on his face. “Oh. Gosh. Good for them. I wonder if you are making the most of this inconvenience also?”

Aron grinned. “Merry Christmas, Alexander.”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, Aron.”

He disappeared into his house and shut the window. Aron was drenched at this point. So much for his Christmas jumper.

Rubbing the water out of his eyes, he ran the rest of the way. Granny’s house was toasty warm.

“Merry Christmas, Granny,” he shouted as he shrugged out of his sopping coat. “Where are you?”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, darling. I’m upstairs.”

He kicked his shoes off and went up.

The drawing room was already awash with wrapping paper. It appeared the Professor had spoiled his bride. Granny sat in the centre in her dressing gown.

“I’m not even dressed and I make no apology,” she declared.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll join you. I’m soaked.”

She leapt up. “Go. Now. You’ll catch your death. I’ll make coffee. Shall we have a little something to go with it?”

“Granny. It’s not even ten o’clock.”

“It’s Christmas Day. The rulebook doesn’t count.”

“Then who am I to argue?”

“Good because I’ve a bottle of Dom chilling in the fridge.”

Only his grandmother would pair coffee and champagne.

“Shoo,” she said. “You’re dripping on my carpet.”

He kissed her on the cheek before obeying her. He needed to get out of his soaked jeans quickly. The jumper hadn’t sustained much rain, so he put it on the radiator.

“Power Rangers may ride again.”

Once inside his cosy brushed cotton pyjamas and fluffy robe, he grabbed Granny’s gift and returned to the drawing room.

She was back on the sofa. A tray laden with crudities, caviar, smoked salmon and crackers lay before her.

“Wow.”

“I simply unpacked it. We’re too late for breakfast but too early for brunch. So I thought we’d eat for the sheer fun of it.”

“I heartily agree.”

They had foregone the takeaway the night before for other activities. He was starving.

Aron joined her on the sofa. She handed him a glass of champagne.

“Cheers, darling.”

“Cheers.”

He took a sip. Oh it was good. The bubbles danced on his tongue as the smooth flavour swept over him. He would be drunk in no time.

“That’s lovely.”

“Isn’t it?” she replied. “Now. Are you ready?”

Aron rubbed his hands together. “Let me go first. I reckon I’ve pulled a blinder this year.”

He handed Granny the present. Her eyes twinkled as she tore open the wrapping paper.

“What on earth?”

“It’s a smart bird feeder,” he exclaimed. “There’s a tiny camera inside so you can watch them from your phone.”

Her face was a picture.

“I love it! It will give me something to study when the Professor is watching one of his interminable documentaries on you know who.”

“I did think about getting you the complete Dickens collection on audio,” Aron said.

Granny shot him a glare. “You wouldn’t. I fear there will be three people in this marriage.”

Parkin yapped.

“Four,” Aron replied.

After a thorough inspection of the photos on the box, she placed it on the coffee table. From underneath she picked up a gift and handed it to him.

He gently opened the parcel and revealed the box. It was a Moleskine smart notebook.

“Everything you write in it gets sent to your computer,” Granny explained.

“Amazing. Thank you.”

He leant forward and gave her a hug.

The cuckoo clock rang out. It was ten o’clock.

“We’ve two hours until the caterers arrive and three until the boys get here,” Granny said. “How about we watch Mary Poppins ?”

She’d always loved that film. As a child, he’d sat with her and marvelled at the larger-than-life nanny. By the time he was five, he had known the words to all of the songs.

He took a sip of his champagne.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

She reached across and squeezed his hand.

“It’s so lovely having you home.”

Aron swallowed. He couldn’t hold everything in any longer.

“Granny, before we watch the film, can I talk to you about something?”

Concern crossed her face. “Of course you can.”

“I’ve been told that the job of CEO at the British Library is about to be recruited.”

She snapped to attention immediately. “Go on.”

“I met with the Chair of the Board the other day.”

Granny frowned. “You kept that quiet.”

Aron chuckled. The one thing his Granny hated the most was being kept in the dark.

“It’s been a bit manic around here. Anyway, she as good as said it was mine for the taking.”

Granny sat back and took a fortifying swig of champagne. “Are you going to go for it?”

Aron sighed. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Darling, I can’t be objective about this. Of course I want you in London. Nothing would make me happier. There had to be a reason that you fled to New York in the first place. Do you think that is fixed?”

Once again, he feared she knew more than she let on. Even so, he wasn’t about to confess the situation with Paul. Not when they had to spend the whole day together. What if she didn’t approve?

“I have a feeling it might be.”

“Then you must do what you think is right. Mind you, the Professor will think all his Christmases have come at once if you do get it. The bragging rights in all his societies will be off the scale.”

They both burst into laughter.

“I love you, Granny.”

“I love you too. Now refresh our glasses and let’s get that film on. I will not be happy if the caterers arrive before the Banks family are flying their kites.”

He set about pouring some more champagne. He noticed she was still watching him.

“What?”

“I know you’ll do the right thing,” Granny said. “But make sure it’s the right thing for you and no one else. Do you hear me? Not even me.”

“Roger that.”

As the days wore on, Aron had become more convinced what the right thing was. The question remained…did he have the courage to really go for it?