The Christmas Holiday

by Maxine Morrey

  The man laughed, showing gaps in his teeth. ‘Of course not! Here, ma’am, you sit here.’ There were a few rickety tables and mismatched chairs to the side of the cooking pot. A couple were already occupied and the other customers eyed me curiously as I sat down. Hunter sat beside me, wedging his equipment bag between his feet while he kept the actual camera on his lap. I glanced around, waiting to see what would happen next. We hadn’t been asked what we wanted and it didn’t seem like the kind of place that had menus. Before I could question Hunter, a teenager appeared, dressed immaculately in white shirt and pressed trousers, bearing two trays of food. He smiled and nodded at us as he put them down.

  ‘Hello again, Mr Hunter.’

  ‘Hi, Raj! How’s school?’

  The boy grinned broadly and it made me smile too – not the general reaction you got to asking a teenager at home the same question.

  ‘It’s great!’

  ‘Any news on the scholarship?’

  The boy looked a little self-conscious before raising his eyes, the smile becoming even wider. ‘I have been given it. I am to go to university!’

  Hunter’s face returned the boy’s joy. ‘That’s so great! Well done! You really earned it.’ He shook Raj’s hand and clapped his other over the boy’s shoulder, its size dwarfing his slight, rangy frame.

  The boy’s father, the owner, called over to him, and a rattle of Hindi followed. The man glanced at us and raised his hands in mock frustration. ‘Teenagers!’ But there was laughter behind his indignation, and it was clear to see the pride he had in his son.

  Hunter shrugged and I smiled, thanking the boy for his service. He did a little nod and rushed off back to his father.

  I looked down at my plate and the brightly coloured food on it.

  ‘Dahl?’ I asked.

  ‘Yep. Best you’ll ever taste. Even in that hotel.’

  Hunter lifted his camera and took a few shots of the food before lowering the Nikon onto his lap again.

  ‘Tuck in.’

  ‘Ummhmm,’ I said, and my stomach rumbled, as if seconding his suggestion.

  When I didn’t move, Hunter glanced over from where he was scooping up dahl with a naan.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m… umm… just wondering… I…’

  How did I put this?

  He shoved a mouthful in and tilted his head. ‘What?’ he asked again through it.

  ‘OK…’ I leant closer, whispering. ‘I know you have to be careful about street food and I don’t want to screw things up by not being able to move from the bathroom for the next two days.’ I tipped my head up, facing him defiantly even though inside I was dying a little at having to bring this whole scenario up. Not that he hadn’t seen me at my worst before – and me him, come to think of it. Can anyone say Mexico? But still. Doing it now when we were, as he’d said, colleagues rather than anything else had me cringing inside.

  He gave me a grin, swallowing his mouthful.

  ‘Been back to Mexico at all?’

  I gave him a look. ‘It lost its appeal a little. You?’

  He shook his head, the smile still in place as he tore off another piece of naan. He pointed at my lunch with it. ‘This is fine. Anand’s place is probably cleaner than a lot of hotel kitchens.’ I noted from the corner of my eye his son wiping over the table and chairs now vacated close to us with a disinfectant spray. Hunter followed my gaze. ‘He’s really up on cleanliness. He doesn’t want people getting sick because he knows they won’t come back if they do. They could eat here and in a hotel and, if they’re ill, automatically put it down to the food here. But believe me…’ He took another bite. ‘It’s not always the case. Come on, get that down you before it gets cold.’

  I picked up my own naan and scooped up some of the bright-yellow dahl with it. My eyes widened as the spice and taste hit my mouth.

  ‘Good?’ Hunter asked.

  I finished and immediately tried the next one on my tray, ‘Mmm! Sooo good!’ I grinned at him. ‘Try not to look quite so smug.’

  He shrugged but laughed it off and we ate the rest quickly, clearing our plates, finishing our meals with a plain, sweet lassi each.

  ‘Do you think Anand would mind talking to me? People have such an idea about street food, like you said, and I’d love to show another side to that. I’m also fascinated that he’s got a son going to university. Without trying to sound condescending, it’s not what you’d automatically expect from a street vendor.’ I looked up at Hunter. ‘Oh God. That does sound condescending, doesn’t it?’

  ‘No. I don’t think so. He’s incredibly proud of his son achieving this scholarship. He’s built his business up from nothing but he always wanted his son to be educated. His daughter is at school too. I know,’ he said, catching my look of surprise, ‘but it’s not always the case that they’re allowed, or able, to go.’

  I chewed my lip, pondering over other possible angles to write.

  ‘Why don’t you ask him if he’d be happy to be interviewed? The main rush is over anyway now. All he can do is say no.’

  ‘Yes. Of course. Do you know his surname?’

  ‘Shah.’

  I was about to stand and head over to where Anand was now handing over his duties to his son. My fears for the boy’s pristine white shirt were lessened when his father dropped a white apron over his head, offering some protection at least. Anand then headed over to us.

  ‘Good, yes?’

  ‘Amazing, thank you!’ I said, my enthusiasm genuine.

  ‘As always,’ Hunter smiled, handing him the tray he reached for.

  ‘Mr Shah,’ I began, ‘I’m a journalist and wondered if I could interview you. I promise not to take up too much of your time.’

  ‘Interview me?’ He laughed, but kindly. ‘I’m not sure I have anything to say that is very interesting. I am just a street-food vendor.’

  ‘Who’s built a successful business, believes in education and now has a son heading off to university. Personally, I’d prefer reading about you than yet another multimillionaire property developer in Mumbai.’

  He did a little head wiggle, still smiling. Calling out something to his son, he took a seat at the tiny table along with us. ‘What is it that you would like to know? And please, call me Anand.’

  ***

  I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head and rubbed my eyes as we slid back into the rear seat of Jayesh’s car on the way back to the hotel.

  ‘Long day, huh?’ Hunter commented.

  I shoved the notes I’d been casting my eyes over into my bag and leaned back next to him.

  ‘Very.’

  It was late afternoon and we’d been on the go since first light this morning. The travelling of the day before, the time change and today’s busy schedule suddenly seemed to catch up the moment I sat back in the car.

  I slid my eyes to him. As much as I wanted to keep calm and cool and act as though I did this all the time, I couldn’t. I needed to share it with someone and he was the nearest body.

  ‘It was so amazing, though.’

  ‘I’m glad you liked it. I thought you might.’

  I sat up, turning a little more towards him. ‘Liked it? I loved it! I can’t wait to discover more. Do we have to go back now?’ The thought of perhaps another quick little discovery sent adrenaline rushing through me, giving me a boost of energy.

  Hunter took off the baseball cap he’d been wearing and rubbed his hand back and forth quickly over his buzz cut.

  ‘Yeah. We do. You’re done in.’

  I sat up straighter. ‘I am not!’

  ‘If you say so,’ he said, obviously choosing not to believe a word of it. ‘But I am. And I need a shower and a kip before we meet Liv and Sandy for dinner later, otherwise I’m going to be face down in the starters.’

  I plopped back against the car seat. ‘I guess a little rest does sound nice, although I have some stuff to write up now. And, of course, a bath would be lovely. Is there any chance of me scheduli
ng one of those in, or do we have an incredibly important meeting I don’t yet know about?’

  He was cleaning his sunglasses with the corner of his T-shirt and slid his gaze to me, catching the glint in my eye.

  ‘OK. I guess I deserved that.’

  I raised my eyebrows in a yeah, you did kind of way.

  ‘I promise you’re free to do whatever you like once we get back, until we have to meet the others.’

  It was hard to avoid doing an eye-roll.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘I wasn’t actually asking for permission.’

  ‘I know you weren’t. I wasn’t giving it.’

  ‘It’s not yours to give anyway.’

  ‘I know!’ He flung his hands up showing his tiredness and exasperation. ‘OK, I admit it. Yesterday I did it just to piss you off. I knew you’d be heading straight for the bath, and it amused me to annoy you. I was still getting used to you being here and I let feelings I shouldn’t have get the upper hand.’ He let out a breath. ‘Mia, I didn’t want you on this trip because I was worried that might happen. I pride myself on being professional. It’s what my reputation is built on. I thought I could just shut out everything from before but the moment I saw you again in the offices, all the… mess… came back. I was angry all over again and whatever I said, you took the wrong way.’

  ‘So, it’s my fault, basically?’

  He gave me a look that didn’t seem entirely to disagree.

  ‘No. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that yesterday I was a bit of a dick. We did need to go over things but I could have done that with you on the plane, or later, when you’d finished your bath. But I didn’t. I couldn’t help it. I know that’s a lame excuse but it’s happened now and I apologise.’

  I chewed my lip, not sure if he’d finished.

  ‘I had a good time today. It went well, and being with someone like you…’

  I looked up at him, wondering for a moment where this was going.

  ‘I mean, someone new to the place, to the lifestyle – and that’s not a criticism – it was good for me too. I’ve been lucky to travel a lot over the past few years and it’s easy to start taking things for granted. To get a little jaded sometimes. But today was different. Your enthusiasm, the “newness” of everything to you, helped me see it afresh, as though I was seeing it through your eyes. I got some great shots that I might not have taken if it hadn’t been for something you said or noticed. Something I might have seen a hundred times and not paid attention to. As much as I was against this whole thing initially, I’m thinking that, if we can put aside the fact we maybe don’t really like each other that much, it could actually be really good, and we could learn from each other.’

  I met his eyes. He was right, he did look exhausted. ‘I’d like that.’

  His smile was tired, and soft. ‘Yeah. Me too. And I’m glad you had a good time. I didn’t think Anand was ever going to stop talking. You clearly have a knack.’

  I grinned. ‘Honestly, I could have talked to him for hours!’

  Hunter laughed. ‘I think the feeling was mutual. Perhaps next time you’re here you can come back and do a follow-up, how things are going for him, his family, etc.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed, flicking him on the leg with my phone. ‘That’s such a great idea!’ I tapped in some notes on the page I’d set up in an app specifically for the purpose.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Hunter was frowning at me when I looked back up.

  ‘Oh no. What now?’

  He pointed at my phone.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know that’s a really ugly-ass case, don’t you?’

  I shrugged. ‘Yours isn’t much different.’

  ‘Mine’s had to survive mountains, deserts and warzones.’

  ‘Ever been on the Central line at rush hour? Pretty tough.’

  He made a head gesture that went some way to conceding that point. ‘Still… plus, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a girl.’

  Oh boy, even when I was pissed off at him, that fact still hit me square between the eyes. Which was really not ideal.

  ‘Your point being?’

  ‘You always had great taste in clothes, home stuff, shoes. That…’ he pointed again, ‘doesn’t really go with the whole aesthetic.’

  ‘Keeping the aesthetic going got expensive. I went through several screens and three phones in two years. Yes, the pretty cases and blingy bits are lovely but sometimes ugly has to win out. I’ve managed to keep this one longer than any so far without breaking it. Why are you laughing?’

  ‘Because I’d forgotten your occasional tendency towards a lack of coordination. And because most women still wouldn’t concede to carrying something that ugly around. I can just see you opening some glamorous little bag and hauling that thing out.’ His face was relaxed and I took the joke as it was meant. As a joke shared with me, not automatically assuming it was aimed at me.

  ‘It’s a conversation starter, that’s for sure.’

  He laughed and I smiled at the sound, thoughts suddenly tumbling through my head at the memories it brought back. Turning, I looked out of the window as the car began pulling up the driveway to the hotel.

  ‘Home sweet home!’ I chirped, a little inanely.

  Hunter gave me an amused look. ‘You’ve definitely been awake too long. Get some rest. We’ve got time tomorrow so don’t break your neck trying to get everything written tonight.’ He held his hand up. ‘I’m not telling you how to do your job, I’m just saying. You have time.’

  I relaxed my shoulders and took the advice graciously. ‘Thank you. I’d like to get some of the notes written up but I think letting it filter for a bit might be good too.’

  He smiled, stepping out of the car as he did so, transferring the smile to one of the doormen and thanking him.

  I did the same, once again admiring their bearing and outfits. As Hunter came around to my side, I nudged him. He looked down.

  ‘Do you think you could ask if you could photograph one or two of the doormen? I love the opulence of their uniforms and… I don’t know… is it cheesy to have one of them opening the door to go alongside the beginning of the journal? Like a welcome to our trip kind of thing.’

  ‘I thought I was in charge of the photos?’ His face was unreadable, and Jeremy’s warning to me after the initial meeting to “try not to piss him off” came flying back into my brain.

  ‘Well, you are, obviously…’ Uh-oh! I suddenly realised that it was probably quite some time since Hunter had taken suggestions as to what he might like to photograph. ‘I just meant…’

  The hint of a smile shadowed his lips as he tugged at my hat, pulling it further down over my face. ‘It’s fine. I was just about to ask a couple of them anyway.’

  I pulled my hat off and swished him on the arm with it.

  ‘You’re such an—’

  ‘Good evening, sir, ma’am.’

  ‘Hello!’ I replied brightly, cutting off my almost-insult and switching on a smile. Hunter grinned at me before turning to the doorman who had spoken.

  ‘Excuse me, would you mind…’

  I left him to it and headed in to the cool, marble interior of the foyer. Glancing back, I saw Hunter chatting and laughing with a couple of the men, once again calling on that innate ability to put people at their ease. Having chosen one of the most competitive fields there was as a career, I imagined it had proved a useful personality facet for him.

  I had thought, when it came to us, that the feeling of being easy with each other had gone for ever, destroyed along with everything else we’d had together. But today I’d seen glimpses of it. I knew we would never be what we once were. And that wasn’t what I wanted anyway. Hunter and I had had very different views of the future, as it had turned out. Something that, in the end, could no longer be ignored. Mine hadn’t changed particularly, and I didn’t expect his to have either. But I’d always loved his company, admired his talent and spirit, and sharing some of
that once again as we explored this incredible city together had given the day an extra layer of unexpected enjoyment.

  ***

  Taking Hunter’s advice – something I definitely wasn’t going to admit to – I didn’t head straight to my laptop but instead ran a bath and sank into the soothing, hot bubbles and let the experiences of the day wash over my mind. The sounds, sights, colours, smells and noise of the day percolated through and distilled into the story I knew I wanted to write. Which I assume was what Hunter knew would happen if I let it. It was strange to think that he knew me so well. Still. At times today, I’d thought I’d still known him well too – but then, there’d be a look on his face when he didn’t realise I was watching. One I didn’t recognise or understand. Many things about Hunter Scott were the same – he was still tall, dark and insanely gorgeous, had the best smile I’d ever seen on a man and an intellect that had sometimes done even more to turn me on than his so-sexy-it-should-be-illegal body – and that was saying something. But he was different. It was like I knew him, but didn’t… not quite.

  Chapter Seven

  I was in the lobby and busy making a couple more notes on my phone while I waited for the others to appear.

  ‘You know, you are allowed to take some time off? Hunter said as he took a seat on the marigold-yellow velvet banquette next to me. ‘Tonight’s just dinner. Relax.’

  ‘So you’re off duty too?’

  ‘Mmmhmm.’

  ‘Right,’ I nodded, ‘so what’s that?’ I pointed my phone at the Nikon resting against his thigh.

  ‘That is… for off-duty photography.’

  I rolled my eyes at him and he gave me the smile that had knocked me sideways eight years ago… and probably countless women since. I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to have that effect on me these days but I turned my head to glance over at the bank of lifts to check for Olivia and Sandeep anyway. Just in case.

  ‘There they are,’ I said, standing and smoothing out my dress. ‘Wow. She looks stunning!’

  Olivia wore a silk jumpsuit with a long, flowing jacket and strappy silver heels, and her hair was elegantly chic in a perfect chignon. The humidity seemed to have had instructions not to mess with it. I’d sent out the same memo but apparently mine hadn’t got through, because, since stepping foot in the country, my normally fairly straight hair had taken on a life of its own and, although the weight of its length was keeping most of it under some sort of control, it definitely seemed to have grown in size and become far more petulant than usual. Consequently, tonight it was tied back in a plait, but there were still bits making a bid for freedom every so often.