Page 52 of Break the Ice

He looks up at the cottage, the patterns of the brickwork, the lead in the windows, the chimney billowing out smoke and the way my dad has hung icicle lights off every gable and frame. ‘It’s beautiful, truly…’ he says, smiling. I look up at the place and feel a wave of affection. I remember when my dad sent us the photos of this place on the family group chat while he was deciding to move back down here and we all replied with hearts. It just looked like a home. It’s a converted stone stable high above the village and all of its rooms are just filled with character and light. It was the perfect place for Dad to be, for him to find peace again after Mum had passed. I will never begrudge him leaving London to be here.

‘Are they expecting us?’ Joshua asks.

‘Well, yes and no.’ The problem is, because Norah is indiscretion personified, she’d have brought a whole welcome party out here to greet us, so I messaged the one person I thought wouldn’t be too extra. Dad. I knew he’d come out here and shake Joshua’s hand and keep this relatively normal. Lovely sane Dad.

The car creeps up the drive, then halts, skidding slightly because Joshua is still preoccupied with admiring this cottage in the lowlights of the morning. ‘Really beautiful.’ He turns to look at me. He’s still talking about the house but there’s a look on his face, I think it’s relief, because that was quite the epic trip and we did it, we survived each other.

I turn to the back seat and see Steve sitting up looking around, and then back to face Joshua. He parks up and looks at me and I grin. ‘We did it, Joshua. We delivered Steve. Mission accomplished.’

I put my hand up so he can high-five me. I’m glad he’s not a shit high-fiver, that the enthusiasm carries through.

‘We did,’ he says.

‘Thank you. Sincerely,’ I say.

‘It was actually my pleasure,’ he says, putting a hand in mine. I don’t know why this feels weird, because he put that hand in unmentionable places last night, but I look at it for a moment.

‘Just to clarify. We’re not going to say anything to anyone about what happened last night, yeah? I mean, it’s Christmas. I don’t want to take away from the day, the surprise of the dog. I don’t want things to be awkward.’

He takes his hand away immediately. ‘Oh yeah, I was just… I also don’t want you to think I’m some sort of player.’

I laugh. ‘I really did not think that at all.’ I don’t know if he’s offended by that. ‘But you’re one of the good ones, Joshua.’

‘I am?’

‘You are. I feel very lucky our paths crossed.’ In the depths of this festive side quest, this is all I know. He feels good. He felt good. Maybe we can talk about what that was later, but just not today. But I also don’t want to turn him around here and tell him to go home and feed my sister’s fish. I want to be good in return. I want him to come in and join us today. I want to see him beyond Christmas. I want to take him for chips in London and make sure he’s eating them right. I sense that he’s here in this country alone, without people, and I wouldn’t mind being one of his people. But before I can say anything, the front door to my dad’s cottage opens.

‘Ho-ho-ho… who do we have here then?’

Christ alive.

‘Phoebe, is that…?’

‘Well, obviously it is not Santa. That gentleman is… my father.’

Yes, that’s my dad walking down this path in a red velvet suit and a hat, and that beard is super fake. Has he skinned a cat to make that? Why is he waddling? What on actual earth? I get out of the car, shaking my head.

‘You absolute tosser. What have you come as?’ I say, letting him wrap his arms around me. The hug is everything, warm and large and safe. I’d travel miles for this hug and I rest there as he talks with my head on his shoulder.

‘Well, Merry Christmas to you too, little girl. Fancy talking to Father Christmas like that? No wonder you’re always on the naughty list…’ He pushes me back from the hug to look at me, and behind the beard and wiry glasses I see a huge smile and his eyes lit up.

‘My dad doesn’t sound like this usually either,’ I explain across the car.

‘Dad? I am not her dad, I am Santa Claus,’ he says, laughing. I sigh in return as he cups my face and gives me a big kiss on the forehead. You ridiculous man. He was supposed to be some bastion of sanity. ‘You made it then? You didn’t get swallowed up in the snow? What happened to your motor?’

‘The exhaust, I think. I’ll see when I get back. Dad, this is Joshua. Joshua, this is my father, Malcolm,’ I say, putting a hand out over the bonnet of the car, not sure what Joshua is thinking at this very moment. My dad releases me and goes to give Joshua a massive hug too. He’s probably thinking this Santa is a bit touchy-feely. ‘Well, ho-ho-ho, Master Joshua. The knight in shining armour, I hear. You’re definitely on my nice list.’

You can tell that this tickles Joshua more than it should. ‘It’s a pleasure, sir. It’s lovely to meet you.’

He looks over at me and smiles. ‘Oh, I’m no sir. In this house, I’m Mal.’ He looks Joshua up and down and then looks over at me. ‘Thank you for looking after my girl.’

Joshua lets out a little chuckle. ‘I think you’ll know your daughter well enough to know she doesn’t need looking after, I was merely the chauffeur.’

I shake my head. I mean, he did get me out of bed. It’s likely that if I was in charge of all this then we’d still be asleep in that shepherd’s hut.

My dad looks over at me. He knows. He also winks. Yeah, don’t do that. ‘Well, you’re both here and you’re safe and it’s Christmas so I am a very happy Santa.’

‘So are you going to explain the get-up, Dad?’ I ask, looking down at his black boots.