Lynsey James - The Silver Bells Christmas Pantomime - The perfect feel-good Christmas romance!

He took his hands away from his nose and instantly regretted it. Blood gushed everywhere and made an already bad situation even worse.

I cleared my throat, took a tissue out of my bag and handed it to Ethan. ‘Come on then, let’s get you patched up.’

We headed to the staff canteen, which was nestled in the leftmost pocket of the store. Rather than the usual cold, clinical atmosphere with peeling tiles and a microwave that didn’t work, Fox’s had made the effort to make their canteen as nice as possible. There was a pair of comfy, squishy brown leather sofas in the corner, a flat screen TV, a round table that didn’t wobble every five minutes and two huge American-style fridges for people to store their lunches in. Plus, a microwave that actually worked.

Ethan took a seat on one of the sofas while I fetched the first-aid kit. He kept his head dipped low, the now blood-soaked tissue pressed to it, and let out low groans of pain as I searched for the little green box. Eventually, I found it hiding behind the tea and coffee canisters.

‘Here it is!’ I yanked it out and brought it over to him, feeling more than a little squeamish at the thought of mopping up so much blood. ‘You’ll be back to normal in no time.’

I hoped I didn’t sound as nervous as I felt. My brain was currently screaming, what the hell have you got yourself into this time? and cursing me for offering my help in the first place. This wasn’t like me; I hated putting myself out there and having the spotlight on me. Yet that was what I’d done, thanks to my big mouth.

He mumbled something about getting a move on because he had stuff to do, before yelping in pain when he moved the wrong way.

‘Serves you right, ungrateful git,’ I muttered under my breath as I pulled on a pair of latex gloves before rooting round the box for some antiseptic wipes. When his eyes darted in my direction, I did the best fake smile I could. A couple of minutes and this would all be over. Then I could go back to being Anonymous Alice: the one who never got in anybody’s way, the one who kept herself to herself.

‘This might sting a bit,’ I said, ripping open one of the wipes, ‘but it’ll stop it from getting infected.’

Ethan gently prised his hands away from his face and allowed me to clean his bloody nose. When it stung, his hands flew up to protect his face.

‘OWWWW! Bloody hell, that hurts!’

I sighed and batted his hands away. ‘You know, the more you keep doing that the longer it’s going to take me to clean it and the more it’s going to hurt. Christ, you’re such a drama queen.’

Ethan didn’t say anything and sulked instead, a thunderous look clouding his features.

‘You know, this is quite funny really,’ I said with a grin. ‘You shoulder-barged me the other day and now I get to clean up your nose because you walked into a door!’

‘I’m sorry about the other day, but please forgive me if I don’t laugh right now.’ He gave a dry chuckle and his mouth twitched into a half-smile. ‘OWWW! Are you nearly finished with that?!’

‘Just about. God, anyone would think you’d never been smacked in the face by a revolving door before!’

I gave him a smile and he did his best to return it. ‘I have to admit…OWWW JESUS CHRIST…this is a first for me! Oh God, there’s not a scratch is there? Please don’t tell me there’s a scratch!’

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. ‘There’s a tiny scratch, but you can barely see it. Anyway, just keep still for a second while I finish cleaning it, then I’ll put a plaster on.’

His huge blue eyes widened with fear. ‘No, no, no you can’t put a plaster on my nose! I’ve got a really important audition today. I can’t go in looking like I’ve been in a fight.’

‘Well unfortunately you fought the revolving door and the door won.’ I chuckled and ripped open a plaster to put over the scratch he’d earned himself. ‘I’m sure the casting people will understand. If not, their loss and someone else can advertise their toothpaste or whatever.’

Ethan let out a hollow chuckle and ran his hands through his thick wavy brown hair. ‘It’s not an ad for toothpaste, it’s… It’s an audition to see if this luxury fashion house is going to make me the face of its menswear brand. They’re deciding between me and this other bloke and thanks to the revolving door, I think I’ve just handed it to him on a plate.’

I looked at him for a second. He definitely looked like the model type: angular, chiselled cheekbones and expressive eyes. I could just imagine him gracing billboards all over the world.

‘Oh I don’t know about that; this other guy might take a sudden allergic reaction to something and show up to the audition with a face the colour of rhubarb. Then you’ll have it in the bag!’ I stuck the plaster over the scratch and patted it down. I had to laugh; it was quite noticeable and made him look a bit ridiculous.

I was struck by how easy it was to talk to him. For the last three years, I’d barely spoken to anybody. Joining Fox’s and talking to the kids who came to the grotto every day had been my biggest steps into the outside world for so long.

‘Well, here’s hoping!’ Ethan said with a lopsided grin. He paused for a moment and turned to look at me. ‘Forgive me if this makes me sound like a complete prick, but… Do you know who I am?’

I frowned. ‘Um, no. Should I?’

He let out a deep, throaty chuckle and his face turned crimson. ‘Erm, I don’t know really! Do you know the name Ethan Fox?’

‘It rings a bell, but I can’t remember where I’ve heard it. Sorry!’ I began to feel a little embarrassed myself, like “Ethan Fox” was a name I definitely should know.

‘Did you see the latest Pride and Prejudice remake at the cinema?’ he asked.

‘Nope, I don’t get to the cinema a lot. Were you in it?’

Ethan’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. ‘You could say that! I was Mr Darcy.’

Suddenly, a light bulb pinged on in my head. ‘ That’s where I’ve heard your name! I heard some of the old dears at the Breakfast Club I go to talking about how fit you looked climbing out of the pond with your shirt on.’

He threw his head into his hands and laughed. ‘I think that scene’s going to follow me wherever I go! Tell them next time you see them that the pond was bloody freezing! Anyway, now that you know my name, why not tell me yours?’

I froze and felt my blood run cold in my veins. Talking to this guy for a few minutes while I patched him up was one thing, swapping things like names was quite another. Especially since he was apparently quite a famous actor.

‘Oh you don’t want to know my name really! Just forget about it.’

I got up and Ethan followed suit. ‘Come on, I can’t let you clean me up after I lose a fight with a revolving door without knowing your name!’

I blushed and busied myself with putting the first-aid equipment back where I’d found it. ‘Why would a guy who’s been in the latest Pride and Prejudice remake want to know my name? I haven’t been in any remakes, Jane Austen or otherwise.’

He folded his arms as he watched me buzz about the little kitchen area. I was trying to find something else to occupy my mind. ‘Strangely enough, that’s not on my list of criteria for wanting to get to know someone!’

‘And putting a plaster on your nose when a revolving door smacks you in the face is on the list, is it?’

‘Nope,’ said Ethan, ‘but I’m willing to add it if it means you’ll tell me your name.’

‘Fine,’ I said when no rebuttals immediately sprang to mind. ‘My name’s Alice. Alice Woods.’

I reluctantly stuck a hand out for him to shake. He clasped it in his bear claw for a moment then let it go.