Calling Mrs Christmas

  ‘I always liked the idea of being a chef,’ Rozzer admitted. ‘Sometimes I used to help my mum to cook.’

  ‘Will you ring her now that you’re out?’ Jim asked.

  ‘Dunno,’ he said with a shrug that was supposed to indicate that he didn’t care. ‘I’ll see how it goes.’

  There was no point pushing it. Perhaps when the lads were established in their own place, Rozzer would feel more inclined to get in touch with his parents. Though how you could leave your own lad to struggle in prison and never even come to visit was beyond Jim. Perhaps they didn’t deserve Rozzer’s compassion as they had shown none to him. Still, it was easy to judge when you didn’t know the whole situation. Maybe there was more to it than met the eye. The only role Jim had now was to try to get them back on their own feet and help them to become self-sufficient. The rest of it was up to the lads themselves.

  ‘Onions in. Fry those off,’ he instructed Smudge, who did as he was told without question. ‘Ever prepared garlic?’

  More head shaking.

  ‘Come closer.’ Jim motioned for them both to stand either side of him, then started his demonstration. ‘Garlic bulb. Garlic clove. Chop off both ends. Peel away the skin. Into the crusher.’ He showed them said kitchen implement. ‘Bish, bash, bosh.’ The garlic oozed out of the other end. ‘Into the mince and onions.’ The lads looked as if he’d showed them the secrets of alchemy. ‘If you haven’t got one already, we’ll get one for your kitchen.’

  They both exchanged a glance at that and grinned.

  ‘Our kitchen,’ Smudge said with a disbelieving beam.

  ‘Yeah.’ Rozzer punched him playfully. ‘Our kitchen.’

  Jim suddenly choked up. These lads had nothing and they were so thrilled that they’d now have a place to call home. He’d do all he could to help them settle in. ‘Bloody onions,’ he said as he cuffed away a tear.

  ‘Yeah.’ Smudge wiped his eyes too.

  ‘Tomatoes,’ Jim said, getting back to the business in hand. ‘Tin of. They go in next. Chop them up.’ He whizzed the knife about in the pan. ‘And some dried herbs.’ Jim handed the jar to Rozzer. ‘Just a pinch.’

  ‘When is Cassie back from Coldasfuckland?’ Smudge asked as he stirred.

  ‘Tonight. But not until late.’

  ‘Shall we save her some of this?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll put some in a bowl so that I can microwave it for her later if she hasn’t eaten.’ He’d meant to pick up a bottle of red wine and flowers but, with all that had happened, it had gone completely out of his mind. He’d do it tomorrow, for sure. On his way home from work. He glanced at the clock. Cassie’s itinerary said that she’d be home at about eleven o’clock.

  It wouldn’t be ideal for her to arrive at the flat to find both of the lads. That was a surprise that she could probably do without. But what else could he have done? He had to bring them home with him. There was no way that he could have left them in the unit a minute longer than they needed to be there. As there was no other accommodation available at such short notice, he couldn’t stand by and let them be spat out onto the street to fend for themselves. Anyone would have done the same thing.

  ‘Is this ready now?’ Smudge asked.

  ‘We need to let it simmer for a while, so that the meat cooks through and all the flavours develop.’

  The lads looked impressed. ‘It smells well nice.’

  ‘This is the first thing I’ve ever cooked,’ Smudge said proudly.

  ‘Well, let’s hope that it tastes as good as it smells.’

  ‘I think I’m going to like cooking,’ Smudge added. ‘Can we do something else tomorrow?’

  ‘That’s the plan,’ Jim said.

  ‘We can wrap some presents for Cassie later,’ Rozzer suggested. ‘Or do something. As a thank-you.’

  ‘That’s kind,’ Jim said. ‘She’d like that. We’ll have a look at her list and see what else we could do.’

  ‘This is just the same as being in a proper family,’ Smudge said. ‘I always wondered what it would be like. Why have you not got kids, Jim?’

  ‘Oh, you know,’ he said, evasively. ‘It’s not happened yet.’

  ‘You should crack on. You’d be a great dad.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jim said. ‘One day. Until then I’ll have to make do with you two.’

  They all laughed at that, but there was a truth in the words that made his chest tighten.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  When the plane lands at Luton Airport we taxi to the small terminal building reserved for the famous and the fabulously rich. This beautiful dream is coming to an end. Already a car is parked up waiting to whisk us home.

  Coming to a standstill, the engines are cut. We all fuss about, gathering our belongings as the steps are put into place. I make sure that the children have everything with them and there are no Nintendos or iPads lurking down the sides of the seats. As we move out into the night, a cold, cruel wind whips across the runway. I help the children down the steps of the plane.

  ‘Got everything?’ Carter asks.

  ‘I think so.’ He squeezes my hand and the tears that never seem to be far away spring up again.

  ‘No crying,’ he says and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

  ‘This has just been such a brilliant trip.’

  ‘It has,’ he agrees. ‘But we have a lot to look forward to as well. Remember that.’

  Taking Eve and Max by the hand, we go to cross the tarmac. As we do, another fancy limousine sweeps towards us.

  ‘Oh no,’ Carter whispers in my ear.

  It’s only seconds before I realise why he’s so disappointed. The limo pulls up next to us and, from the back, Tamara emerges.

  ‘Mummy!’ Eve shouts.

  The children both drop my hands and run towards her as she sashays to meet us. Tamara crouches down and scoops them into her arms. ‘My babies,’ I hear her say. ‘Mummy’s missed you so much.’

  ‘We’ve missed you too,’ Eve says.

  I glance across at Carter who’s trying to be stoic, but looks so forlorn. All I want to do is hug him but, given the circumstances, I daren’t even risk it.

  Eventually, while Carter and I stand there like lemons, Tamara untangles herself from the children and comes over to us.

  ‘Hello, Carter,’ she says. ‘I missed the children so much that I couldn’t wait to see them. I got your flight time from Georgina. Hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘No, of course not. It’s lovely to see you,’ he says cheerfully, but I can tell that his brightness is forced. ‘The children have missed you too.’

  ‘I thought we could all travel home together,’ she says. ‘You, me and the children,’ she stresses with a barbed look at me. ‘To Randall Court.’

  ‘I… er…’ Carter looks racked with indecision.

  ‘Can we go together, Daddy?’ Eve asks. ‘Please?’

  I can tell that Carter is torn. I’m sure that the last thing on earth he wants to do is get into a car with Tamara.

  To help him along, I say, ‘That sounds like a marvellous idea.’ My expression says that he must do this for the sake of Eve and Max, for the sake of domestic harmony. ‘Can I take the other car home?’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ Carter agrees, eyes troubled.

  ‘We’ll speak tomorrow. Sort things out.’

  ‘Yes. We will.’ He looks as if he wants to say more but, obviously, he can’t. Instead, he says, ‘Eve, Max, come and say goodbye to Cassie. Thank her for arranging such a marvellous trip.’

  ‘Cassie can come with us too,’ Eve says. ‘There’s lots of room in Mummy’s car.’

  ‘I’ve got things to do,’ I tell her. ‘But we’ll catch up soon.’

  I bend to hug them both tightly. At this moment I feel as if I don’t want to let either of them go, so I know how hard it must have been for Tamara to see them swan off with their dad and another woman. Little does she know how our relationship has changed in the last few days. I’m not even sure that I can get m
y head around it myself. A few weeks ago Carter was nothing more than a client. I’d have been glad to even have classed him as a friend by the end of our trip to Lapland, but now it seems that he wants more from me. And I can’t even begin to decide whether I have more to give him in return.

  My head is whirling. I’m so flattered by Carter’s attention. Who wouldn’t be? He’s holding the full deck. He’s handsome. He’s charming. He’s great company. And let’s not forget, he’s ferociously rich. I thought that my head would never be turned by material things, but it has been. Is it so awful of me to admit that? I can’t help but think that a relationship with Carter would transform my life in an instant. All my current financial strain would be lifted in a flash, just disappearing into thin air. I’d no longer be bogged down by bank charges and phone calls from credit-card companies. I’d be free to live without this gnawing worry. There’s a feeling of utter relief about the idea that I can’t even begin to describe.

  But what about my lovely Jim who’s waiting for me at home? My Jim whom I’ve loved for years without faltering? Until now.

  ‘Thank you, Cassie,’ Eve says. ‘It’s been really lovely. I liked the huskies and the Father Christmas parts best.’

  ‘Good.’ I want to smooth her hair, but now it seems far too intimate a gesture with her mother standing watching my every move.

  ‘Thank you,’ Max says. ‘You’re very good at playing.’

  ‘Thank you, sweetheart.’

  ‘It’s cold,’ Tamara says with a dramatic shiver. ‘We should go.’

  Does she not realise that we have just returned from minus twenty-five degrees in Lapland? We are people who laugh in the face of this measly version of cold!

  ‘Come on, children.’ She gathers Eve and Max to her again.

  My heart twists to watch them go.

  ‘Goodbye,’ Carter says. He risks a peck on both of my cheeks. Suddenly, the urge to feel his warm lips on mine is overwhelming. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so much.

  ‘Goodbye,’ I say. ‘What time shall I ring you?’

  ‘I’ll call you,’ he says and, with a wave over his shoulder, he walks to the limousine with Tamara and the children.

  I wait until they all climb into the car, the doors thunk closed and it executes a leisurely turn before speeding away.

  So. Now I’m the one standing alone on the tarmac feeling forlorn. I sigh to myself and head to the car that’s waiting for me.

  ‘Good evening, miss,’ the driver says as he opens the door for me.

  ‘Thank you.’

  I sink into the plush leather but, this time, its luxury holds no joy for me. It’s simply a vehicle that’s taking me away from Carter, from Eve, from Max.

  I try to control my breathing. I try not to cry. I have about half an hour, less, to get my head right.

  I am going home. Home to my flat. Home to my worries. Home to Jim. And the sooner I can stop this longing, this keening feeling inside of me, the better.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  The limousine pulls up outside my flat. When previously I’d always be excited to be home, I now feel sick and somehow lost.

  It’s been raining since we left Luton Airport and, as the driver lifts my suitcase from the boot of the car, I realise that it’s pouring down. That just about puts the tin hat on it really. Even though I’ve just met the real Father Christmas, all my Christmassy feelings have flown right out of the window. There’s nothing but a damp ache in my bones.

  Having come straight down the M1, we’ve not passed a single thing that suggests that Christmas is looming large, just mile after mile of blackness and gloom. It’s wrong, so wrong, to have Christmas without crisp, white snow.

  In seconds, my hair is plastered flat to my head, but I don’t care.

  ‘Shall I carry your case into your apartment for you, miss?’

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘I can take it from here, thank you.’

  I don’t know whether I should tip him or not and now I feel embarrassed. Thankfully, as it’s raining, he doesn’t linger. As soon as is politely possible, he’s back in the limo and pulling away, leaving me standing in our car park with my case.

  With a sigh, I look up to see a few meagre Christmas trees in the windows of the flats, but they seem a half-hearted attempt at festivity. Then I notice that the light is on in our flat and that, at least, gives me a slight lift. It means that Jim is home. As I haven’t been able to contact him, I wasn’t sure whether he’d be at work or not. I think it’s better that he’s at home and waiting for me.

  I push open the main front door and climb the stairs, dragging my case behind me. All I can do for the moment is put Carter and this trip firmly out of my mind. There’s lots of work to do now that I’m back. I have to get on with life and throw myself into it wholeheartedly.

  Putting my key in the lock, I suddenly get a feeling of panic. In such a few days, this place now seems completely alien to me. Behind this door is my home, my loved one. So why do I feel so strange, so disconnected? I take a deep breath and turn the key.

  As the door swings open, Jim dashes out from the living room. His face lights up when he sees me and I want to lie down on the floor and cry with relief. Nothing has changed at all. When I look at him, I still love him. He comes to me, wraps me in his great big, bear-hug arms and rocks me against him. Neither of us speaks. We just hold each other tightly and I can feel Jim’s heart thudding happily.

  ‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I’ve missed you so bloody much.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ I tell him and, at this moment, it doesn’t feel like a lie.

  ‘Have you had a good time?’

  ‘Brilliant,’ I admit.

  ‘You saw the northern lights?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Were they as fabulous as you’d hoped?’

  ‘More than that.’

  Everything about the trip seems to have made me into a different person. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve experienced, how can I ever forget them, the way they made me feel? How will I fit back into my own rather mundane life?

  ‘I’m pleased for you.’ Jim lets me go and then picks up my case. Before he turns to head back into the living room, his face darkens slightly and he lowers his voice. ‘I should warn you that we’ve got visitors.’

  ‘Visitors? Now?’

  ‘I haven’t been able to call you,’ Jim continues. ‘Things have been happening here.’ He pulls me into the kitchen and closes the door.

  I’m worried now. ‘Like what?’

  ‘The lads were released today. Smudge and Rozzer.’ He glances anxiously over his shoulder. ‘I didn’t know what else to do with them, so I’ve brought them here.’

  ‘To stay?’

  ‘For a few days. A week. Well, a couple of weeks at the most.’

  Weeks? I can’t even say that out loud.

  ‘They’ve got a flat in Vincent’s place, but it’s not ready for them yet. This is only a temporary thing.’

  ‘Where are they going to sleep?’

  ‘Rozzer’s on the futon in the spare room and Smudge is going to have to take the sofa.’

  I don’t know what to say.

  He frowns at me. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking. Are you OK with this?’

  ‘What if I’m not?’

  He looks taken aback by that. ‘I thought you would be. If you want them out, then I’ll try to find them bed-and-breakfast accommodation.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want them here,’ I say. ‘It’s just that it’s a shock. You know them, you see the boys every day, but I hardly know them. They’ve done a bit of work for me, but that’s all.’

  ‘They’re great kids,’ Jim stresses. ‘They just need a break.’

  ‘I’m not disputing that.’ Our conversation seems to be turning into a whispered row. ‘But how will we manage? This flat is barely big enough for two of us. We can hardly make ends meet ourselves and now we’ve got two extra mouths to feed?’

  ‘It won’
t be for long.’

  ‘I don’t want to feel uncomfortable in my own home with two lads from Bovingdale here under my feet.’

  Jim looks wounded. ‘I didn’t know you’d feel like that.’

  All the fight goes out of me. ‘To be honest, I didn’t know it myself until it came out of my mouth.’

  ‘I’ll look for somewhere else for them tomorrow,’ he says, the expression on his face showing that he’s really disappointed in my reaction. And, truthfully, I’m disappointed in it too.