Devan sat and played Carol of the Bells, managing to get through it without speeding up to an impossible rate of knots just to get it over with. When he’d finished, Jonty jumped to his feet, whistling and cheering.
“I wasn’t that good.” Devan grabbed Jonty’s hands to stop him continuing to clap after everyone else had stopped.
“You were fabulous. How many strings are there?”
“Forty-seven.”
“I’m in awe. Using all your fingers, both feet. You’re like a master musician. Do you have wings on your back? I know there’s no halo.”
“Ha ha. I’m really not that good.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jonty whispered. “You’re the only person I know that can play the harp.”
“Jonty?” Devan’s mother called. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Jonty pushed to his feet.
Devan thought about trying to tug him down, but Jonty would be hurt if he did. Instead, he mentally crossed his fingers. Jonty went up to the piano, took out his phone and set it against the music stand. He coughed to get people’s attention, then smiled.
“Merry Christmas everyone. Thank you for having me here. I never had the opportunity to learn an instrument. I’m so impressed by the Smith von Trapp family. You’re all brilliant. But I can do something—I hope—with a bit of help from my phone.”
Oh God. Please not the Shark Song. Especially not with different words.
But the moment the music started, Devan relaxed. Jonty sang Oh Holy Night and his voice… Oh Christ. It was so clear and bright and beautiful that the whole room fell still and silent. Devan’s skin tingled as goose bumps flared and the breath caught in his throat.
“Fucking hell,” Cato whispered behind him. “You found yourself an angel.”
Devan glanced at his mother, but she was looking at Griff and Suki who were staring at Jonty.
The final note died away and as everyone clapped and Devan whooped, Jonty took a little bow.
“More, more, more, more,” Venice called, and the others joined in.
Not my mother. Devan was bitterly disappointed. He’d hoped…
Jonty’s face was flushed. “Okay. There is one song that I‘d like to sing. It’s not Christmassy but… Anyway…” He pressed a few buttons on his phone and set it back on the piano.
As Jonty started to sing Feels Like Home To Me, Devan wondered if he’d ever breathe again. Jonty stared at him and Devan knew this was Jonty telling him how much he loved him. When Jonty’s voice broke on the words I can almost see through the dark there is light, Devan stood and joined him, sang with him.
More applause when they’d done, and they made their way back to the couch.
“I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t do the shark song,” Devan said.
“Your mother would have never forgiven me. I do have some sense. Not a lot, but enough.”
Devan’s mother sat at the piano and the other members of his family were picking up instruments. Griff handed Devan a guitar.
“Oh my God. You can play the guitar as well?” Jonty stared at him wide-eyed.
Devan shrugged. “I had dreams of stardom. Not many harpists in rock bands.”
“We all ready?” his mother called.
“I’ve done something special this year,” Devan’s father said. “Watch.”
The room lights dimmed and as his mother began to play the piano, the lights on the Christmas tree flickered on and off in time to the music. Devan chuckled. Dad and his gadgets. Gradually everyone who could play an instrument or bang a makeshift drum joined in the family’s loud rendition of the Trans-Siberian orchestra’s Wizards of Winter. Only Jonty and four-year-old Lucien weren’t contributing. Jonty grabbed Lucien and danced with him, following the staccato rhythm, then twirling him in the fast sections. Jonty finally collapsed on the floor with Lucien on top of him, the boy giggling hysterically.
Devan was happy right up to the point that his mother picked Lucien up and walked away with him without saying a word to Jonty. Please, Mum! Don’t be blind to what I see!
Jonty was quiet while they all ate together at the large kitchen table. Devan kept trying to get Jonty to talk and he did, but he was not his usual self. Griff sat next to their mother as always and dominated the conversation at that end of the table. He and Jonty were down by the kids.
“If you don’t eat what’s on your plate, you’ll be in trouble,” Devan whispered.
“My eyes were bigger than my stomach. It’s delicious though. I can’t believe how your mum managed to produce a vegetarian option for Suki without batting an eyelid.”
“She’s probably planning how long it will take Suki and Griff to get married and produce little Griffs.” Devan chuckled.
Suki had been performing at the other end of the table, telling everyone about her family who lived in Los Angeles. Her father was an actor that Devan had heard of, and her mother an interior designer. Suki had two sisters.
“Do your parents mind that you’re not at home for Christmas?” Devan’s mother asked.
“We’ll do Christmas again when I’m back. They have my sisters there so…”
Devan had a sinking feeling in his stomach, the sort of sensation he had when he knew something bad was going to happen, like a vase about to fall over when he’d knocked against a table, a parasol readying to take flight after a sudden gust of wind, and there was nothing he could do to stop the disaster unfolding. He’d deliberately told his family very little about Jonty, but maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe he should have warned—
“What about you, Jonty?” Devan’s mother asked. “What do your family do at Christmas? Do you have traditions?”
“I…No, not really.” Jonty shot Devan a desperate look. But before Devan could save him, his mother spoke again.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” she asked.
“No.”
“Do—”
“Jonty’s mother left home when he was eight. His father died a month ago.” Devan couldn’t let his mother keep pestering Jonty.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Devan didn’t miss his mother’s look that clearly said you should have told me. This is not my fault.
“Your first Christmas without him,” she said. “That must be hard.”
“Not really. I’ve only seen him once since he went to jail when I was fifteen.”
Well, that was one way to shut everyone up. His mother looked horrified.
“He was jailed for child neglect,” Devan said quietly.
Jonty nudged him and shook his head in warning. “I usually work in the hotel over Christmas. The food is really good. But…” He chewed his lip. “Yours is even better. I feel as if I’m part of a Hallmark movie. Such a beautiful house with amazing decorations. It smells like Christmas. You’re all so talented and clever. It’s even snowing. Probably just over this house because it’s so perfect. I’m waiting for the moment of conflict because there always is one. Or maybe it’s me.” He whispered the last sentence and Devan wasn’t sure who else had heard what he said.
He put his hand on Jonty’s leg.