Girl Online(56)

I nod and go over to join him.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says.

“Me too,” I reply, and for a second I think he’s about to kiss me. But then Bella races back across the landing and grabs us both by the hand.

“Come on, slow coaches!”

And as Noah grins at me and shrugs apologetically, I feel hit in my heart by an emotion very close to love.





Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Christmas tree is as tall as the living room and almost as wide as the bay window it’s stood in. Its needles are thick and glossy and fill the room with a delicious piney scent. Mum and Dad head out for some emergency Christmas shopping, so Noah, Bella, and I set about decorating the tree from a battered old trunk full of the most beautiful glass baubles and ornaments I’ve ever seen.

It turns out that pretty much every decoration has its own story. As we hang them on the tree, Sadie Lee sits beside us in a rocking chair and recounts each tale. “My mamma bought me that Santa the year I turned sweet sixteen. That snowman belonged to your granddaddy—he called it Stanley. The reindeer was given to me at a church party back in Charlston.”

Finally, all of the baubles are on the tree.

“Don’t forget these,” Sadie Lee says, handing Bella a box.

“Candy canes!” Bella exclaims.

The box is full of green, red, and white striped canes. They’re shiny and bright and smell of peppermint. Carefully, we start hooking them over the branches of the tree.

“Yum!” Bella says, popping one in her mouth.

“Hey, Miss Piggy!” Noah says with a grin.

“I couldn’t help it,” Bella says. “It fell into my mouth.”

We all start to laugh and Noah offers me a candy cane. It tastes just like a stick of Brighton rock.

“Is it time for the angel?” Bella asks Sadie Lee.

“It sure is, honey.”

Noah takes a parcel wrapped in red tissue paper out of the trunk. Very carefully, he unwraps it to reveal a beautiful angel with wavy blond hair and a long ivory silk dress. Two wings made from golden gossamer fan out from her back. Noah climbs onto a chair and gently places the angel on top of the tree. Bella starts clapping her hands in excitement.

“Can I turn on the lights, Grandma, please?”

“Of course you can, honey.”

We all wait as Bella scrambles around the back of the tree. “Merry Christmas!” she cries, and the tree comes alive with golden twinkly lights. It’s so beautiful, I can’t even speak.

“Merry Christmas,” Noah whispers in my ear, putting his arm around my waist.

I snuggle into him, glowing with the thought that this is going to be the best Christmas ever.

? ? ?

It isn’t till the afternoon that it dawns on me that I also don’t have a single Christmas present for anyone. Noah doesn’t seem all that keen on going shopping so I head out to the local parade of stores with Sadie Lee. I buy a pumpkin-scented candle and some fizzy bath goodies for Mum, an American cookbook for Dad, a book about princesses for Bella, and a beautifully carved set of wooden mixing spoons for Sadie Lee—when she’s not looking. I decide to try a music shop for Noah’s gift, but as soon as I get inside it dawns on me that I don’t even know what kind of music he likes. And then it dawns on me how little I still know about him and I have a moment of panic. How can I feel so strongly about someone I’ve only just met? It doesn’t make sense. I look at Sadie Lee sheepishly.

“What kind of music does Noah like?”

She instantly laughs. “That boy likes just about every kind of music. I’m not kidding—he could make a tune from the whistle of a train! But if you had to pin it down, I would go for something old—on vinyl. He loves vinyl.”

I head off to the back of the store, where there are racks and racks of records. As I flick through them, I smile as I breathe in the smell. It’s almost as good as the smell of books. Almost, but not quite. In the end I pick a record by someone called Big Bill Broonzy, just because I love the name. I take the record over to the counter to pay.

“Awesome choice, ma’am,” the guy behind the counter says with a wide grin.

“Thank you,” I say, feeling very proud that I’ve actually gone into a vintage record store in Brooklyn and made an “awesome choice”—even if it is entirely by accident.

The man’s smile grows even broader. “Cute accent. Where are you all from?”

“England.”

“No way!” He grabs my hand and shakes it enthusiastically. “Well, that just made my day.”

I look at his greying dreadlocks and the silver skull on the chain around his neck. He looks so interesting.

“Would you . . . ? Could I . . . ? Would it be OK if I took a picture of you?”

He instantly grins. “Why, yes, of course, ma’am. How do you want me?” He starts puffing out his chest.

“Just as you were, looking at the record would be great,” I say.

The man re-creates the pose and I take the shot. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He hands me a business card from a pile on the counter. “And when you get back to England you can tell people you met Slim Daniels.”

“I will,” I say, glowing with newfound confidence. I’m no longer a stupid schoolgirl who always makes mistakes, I’m the kind of person who makes awesome choices in Brooklyn record stores and takes photos of people with names like Slim Daniels. Nothing—not even when I take a step backward and almost knock over a display stand—can ruin my happiness.