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I took the plate. I said thank you. I said goodnight.
“Seriously?” Tess said.
“I just think it’s complicated. With Gemma. And the job. And the whole doorstep thing.”
She looked at me for a long moment, snow in her curls, red coat, pink nose. Then she nodded, slowly.
“Okay,” she said. “Your loss, Ben Hartley.”
She walked off down the corridor. I closed the door. I ate the leftovers standing up at the counter. They were delicious. Mum’s stuffing is always delicious. I didn’t taste any of it.
At New Year, Gemma had a party. Tess was there, in a silver dress that made every man in the room forget his own name. She was perfectly friendly to me. Perfectly polite. She danced with a tall guy called Viktor, thirty-four, who worked in finance and laughed at everything he said.
At midnight, when everyone kissed, she kissed Viktor.
At ten past midnight, she walked past me on the way to the kitchen, leaned in very close and whispered in my ear.
“For the record,” she said. “I’d have stayed the night.”
Then she went back to Viktor.
I went home at one. I ate the last of the cold trifle. I have never in my life regretted a plate of leftovers so much.
Ending 16 of 16: Cold Turkey. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.