Calling Mrs Christmas

by Carole Matthews

  I put my hand on his arm. ‘Don’t, Jim. They can stay here. Of course they can. We’ll manage. I’m tired. That’s all. It’s been a very —’

  My voice fails me. What can I say to Jim? How can he know that I’m not myself, that I have one foot out of the door on this life, that he needs to fight for our relationship, not expend his energy on two ragamuffins that he’s brought home because no one else is interested in them? How can a few words explain the emotional rollercoaster that I’ve been on? I swallow down the emotion and find my voice again.

  I settle on, ‘It’s been a tiring few days.’

  ‘Tiring?’ He laughs. ‘You’ve been swanning around Lapland on a dogsled. You left the itinerary behind, remember?’

  ‘It might seem like that to you.’ I try not to bristle. ‘But, in one way and another, it’s taken it out of me. I’ve worked very hard to make sure everything was perfect.’

  ‘So that two spoiled little rich kids could see Santa?’

  ‘Jim, I have just walked through the door only for you to tell me that there are two ex-cons living in our flat. I’m not the one in the wrong here.’ I decide not to tell him about the dark thoughts in my heart.

  He caves in, instantly. ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘I’m being stupid.’

  ‘Carter’s children are actually really nice,’ I tell him.

  ‘So are Rozzer and Smudge,’ he pleads. ‘No one else gives a toss. All I want to do is help.’

  I take him in my arms again. ‘They can stay. Of course they can. We’ll work it out.’ I smile, but I realise that it’s weary and doesn’t touch my soul.

  ‘The lads made their first spag bol,’ he says. ‘I showed them how. They were really proud of it. Didn’t taste half bad. They’ve left you some in a bowl in case you were hungry.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say. ‘I ate on the plane.’

  Grilled chicken with couscous followed by chocolate mousse. All of which was worthy of a Michelin-starred restaurant. But now I really wish that I had room to eat the leftovers of the meal that the boys have made.

  ‘I’ll keep it till tomorrow,’ Jim says. ‘It’ll still be tasty reheated for lunch. I’m on earlies, though.’ He pulls a face. ‘It would have been nice to go out for breakfast or something.’

  A walk down to McDonald’s for an Egg McMuffin. I feel awful that, suddenly, this holds no thrill for me when once – a few days ago – I would have seen it as an indulgent treat. ‘That would have been great.’

  ‘I’ll get the lads to cook, so that there’s no extra work for you. They need to learn how to do it for when they’re out on their own. I don’t want them to starve.’

  I can see how much these boys mean to Jim and I reach out to stroke his face. ‘You are a very kind man.’

  He makes a dismissive noise.

  ‘I can show them some dishes too,’ I offer. ‘It’s no trouble.’

  ‘I’m sure they’d like that.’

  ‘Just put the kettle on and I’ll go and say hello.’

  ‘They can stay?’

  I nod. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Do I tell you enough how bloody fantastic you are?’ Jim says.

  But I’m not fantastic. The truth of the matter is that in my mind’s eye there’s a picture of Carter on the steps of Randall Court, his arms open, and I’m looking at my tiny little flat, filled with young offenders, and finding it wanting.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  I find enough bedding for the boys. Just about. Rozzer has an old duvet and a pillow, which Jim had to go into the tiny loft space to retrieve. Smudge didn’t fare as well and has a couple of well-loved picnic blankets from the back of the car and a cushion for his head. Neither of them looked perturbed by the lack of a co-ordinated duvet set and seemed grateful to have anywhere to lay their heads at all.

  Both Jim and I tuck them in like children and I get a flashback to doing the same for Eve and Max at night in Lapland. I wonder where they all are now. Did Carter and Tamara have an argument when they got home or are they playing nice for the children’s sake? I do hope they’ve managed to keep things civil. The kids have had a fabulous few days and don’t need it spoiled by rowing parents. I realise that I’m worrying for them, but what can I do? My hands are tied.

  When the boys are both settled and the queue for the bathroom has subsided, Jim and I go to bed. Normally, I’d walk from the bathroom to the bedroom in just my nightwear of T-shirt and tatty old shorts. But, with Kieran and Andrew around, I have to dig out my dressing gown for a bit of modesty.

  Jim is already in bed, reading with the light on. He seems really excited that the lads are here and I wish I could be the same. I think I must be still be running on adrenaline or jet lag or something as I feel weird and disconnected. I thought that everything was the same, but it simply isn’t. The bedroom looks like somewhere I’ve never slept before. Now that we’re alone, I’m awkward with Jim. Even more so as I slide into bed beside him.

  ‘Come here,’ he says and pulls me into his arms.

  His body is warm, solid and should feel so familiar, but it doesn’t. We usually spoon together so easily but, this time, we don’t seem to fit together right.

  ‘Can’t get comfy?’ Jim asks.

  ‘I think I’m overtired. Just need a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘You were in the Icehotel, weren’t you?’

  I nod. ‘Didn’t sleep a wink.’

  ‘Can’t imagine it’s that comfortable.’

  ‘No.’

  How can I tell Jim that it’s perfectly comfortable, that it wasn’t the cold or sleeping on reindeer skins that kept me awake? How can I tell him that it was a magical experience and that my own bedroom in a block of flats in Hemel Hempstead simply can’t compete? When I think of the snow and ice sparkling, glittering, everything here seems flat and grey.

  Also, this time last night I was in bed with another man and I can’t get that out of my mind. Something else Jim doesn’t need to know. I think about calling Carter tomorrow and my stomach flips with nerves. What shall I say? What am I going to do? It’s a conversation that could shape my whole future and take me in a direction that I never even imagined a few days ago. It could take me away from Jim. The thought makes me feel nauseous.

  ‘Let’s have a welcome home cuddle,’ he says. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

  I feel like a corpse, my body stiff and unresponsive. Jim twines his arms round me and starts to nuzzle my neck. One of our ‘making love’ signals. All couples have them, don’t they? Jim nuzzles my neck. Sometimes he has a shave before bedtime – a sure sign that he’s in the mood for love. If I’m feeling sexy, I twine my foot around Jim’s and caress it gently. Tonight, the neck nuzzling is failing miserably. In fact, it’s making me really uncomfortable.

  Jim goes to move above me, but I stop him from kissing me. He looks at me, puzzled. ‘Everything OK?’

  I shrug and lower my voice to a whisper before speaking. ‘I feel a bit weird doing this with the boys right next door. What if they hear us?’

  Jim grins. ‘We’ll be really, really quiet. You’ll have to promise not to cry out my name in ecstasy.’

  That makes me smile too. Oh God, I love this man. How can I be thinking of leaving him? Yet, deep in my heart, I am. What would he think if he knew that I was lying here with another man on my mind? Only a few hours have gone by since I left Carter and this somehow seems too soon. I need time to adjust to my circumstances again. Perhaps even to change them. I can’t make love to Jim. I just can’t.

  He props himself up on his elbow and gazes at me quizzically. ‘Is this going to last all the time the lads are here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘We’ve always had the place to ourselves. This seems odd.’ Again, if I lived at Randall Court, I could find a whole selection of extra bedrooms for the boys to occupy.

  ‘We’ll have to get a hotel room,’ Jim teases.

  ‘Perhaps we should get them a hotel room.’ It sounds more snappy than I mean. ‘How long do you
think they’ll be here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he confesses. ‘They’ll be gone as soon as Vincent can take them. You can see why I had to help.’

  ‘Of course I do.’ And I do. ‘But it’s not going to be a walk in the park. You’re at work first thing tomorrow. What am I going to do with them?’ I hope that they’ll be up early too as I’ve got a lot to do – although I’ve no idea what – and the computer is in the spare room.

  ‘Give them some jobs. Something that will keep them occupied in the flat. As soon as I’m home I’ll take Smudge into town to get him some proper clothes. After that I’ll take them round the agencies that they need to be in contact with. Smudge is going to need a lot of extra support, maybe some counselling.’ Jim sighs heavily. ‘One thing I didn’t tell you…’ His voice falters and it’s clear he’s struggling to carry on.

  My heart starts to pound. Does Jim have a secret too?

  ‘The night we had a row. Before you went away?’ He rubs a hand over his face. ‘Smudge had attempted suicide that day. I was all over the place.’

  ‘That was barely a few days ago,’ I say. ‘How come they’ve let him out?’

  ‘End of his sentence,’ Jim says. ‘They can’t keep him in for that. He’s someone else’s problem now.’

  Ours, it seems.

  ‘Poor Kieran.’ My heart goes out to the boy, it really does. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He tried to slash his wrists. Not in a serious way. It was nothing more than a cry for help.’

  He must have felt pretty desperate, nevertheless. That helps me to understand Jim’s behaviour a bit better now, even though I’m worried that he felt he couldn’t talk to me about it. ‘You should have told me.’

  ‘I know,’ he says. ‘It was too raw.’

  But, now that he has told me, I have to confess that I’m even more worried about what we’ve taken on. What if he tries it again and we’re not quick enough to respond? Shouldn’t someone properly trained be caring for him? These are damaged boys and I simply don’t know if I can manage. Jim’s used to this, but I’m not.

  ‘He’s going to need professional help,’ Jim adds. ‘I’ll see what I can get him signed up for. Plus they’ve got to check in with their probation officers too.’

  Jim really has taken on a lot. I love it that he cares so much, but I can also understand why people would be more keen to turn their backs, face the other way.

  ‘It won’t be for long. I swear,’ he promises.

  ‘Let’s settle down,’ I say. My brain is so exhausted that I can’t think straight. ‘I’m really tired now.’

  ‘OK.’ Jim kisses me tenderly. His fingers stroke my face. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too,’ I say. And I do, but my tongue feels thick in my mouth.

  We lie down and Jim turns off the light. Within seconds, as usual, his breathing has deepened into sleep. I, on the other hand, lie awake, my mind in turmoil.

  My thoughts, of course, run to what Carter said to me. Do I want to stay here or do I want to go? It’s as simple as that. There might not be much to hold me here in material terms, but can I turn my back on all that Jim and I have built up? Could I walk away when there’s still so much love between us? I’m not in this dilemma because I’ve fallen out of love with Jim. It’s just that I might be in love with someone else too.

  I’ve glanced at the clock for the millionth time and note that it’s gone three o’clock, when I hear a muffled shout coming from the living room. It’s clear that Smudge is having a bad dream. He starts to cry out, getting louder and louder. It hits me that I’m afraid of getting up and going into my own living room in case, in his half-sleep, he might not know where he is and attacks me or something.

  ‘Jim!’ I shake Jim’s shoulder. ‘Jim. Wake up.’

  He grunts and stirs.

  ‘I think Kieran’s having a bad dream. I’m worried about going to him on my own.’

  Now Jim’s awake. He’s rubbing his eyes and climbing out of bed in one movement. I follow him.

  ‘Stay here,’ he says, but I stick with him.

  In the living room, Jim turns on the lamp. ‘What’s up, lad?’

  Kieran is awake, wild-eyed and still shouting. Jim crouches down beside the sofa and holds him by the arms. ‘You’re all right,’ he says, soothingly. ‘We’ve got you, Smudge. We’ve got you.’

  The shouts turn to racking sobs and Jim cradles the boy in his arms while he cries.

  Rozzer comes through from the spare room in nothing but his boxers. He’s scratching his head, yawning sleepily and dragging his duvet behind him. ‘I’ve got it, Jim,’ he says. ‘He does this most nights.’

  The boy is much calmer now, so Jim moves away and Rozzer takes over. ‘Mate,’ he says. ‘It’s me. Go back to sleep now. We’re cool.’

  ‘I’m frightened, Rozzer.’

  Rozzer yawns. ‘You’re always frightened, bro. But I’m here now. And Jim. We’ve got your back. Shut up and go to sleep.’

  ‘OK.’ Kieran lies down again and slides a thumb into his mouth.

  He looks so vulnerable and terrified that I want to cry for him. But I’m so scared for myself that tears won’t come. I should have known that these boys were troubled, but you can never be sure just how much. I want to be kind and nurturing like Jim, but I’m also a bit frightened of them both. What if they revert to their old ways now that they’re out of the unit? Will Jim be able to help keep them on the straight and narrow?

  Rozzer lays out his duvet on the floor. ‘Probably best if I stay here,’ he says. ‘Then we can all get some kip.’

  ‘Shout if you need me,’ Jim says. ‘We’re only in the next room.’

  ‘Will do,’ Rozzer says. ‘He’ll be all right now, though.’

  Jim puts his arm around me and I realise that I’m shivering. ‘Cold?’ he asks.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Let’s go back to bed.’ He turns me towards the bedroom and, compliant, I walk ahead of him. ‘There’s nothing to worry about now.’

  But there is, I want to tell Jim. There’s lots to worry about. It’s just that he doesn’t know the half of it.

  Chapter Sixty

  It’s two weeks until Christmas. Fourteen days. The final countdown. The first thing I need to do is check the computer. The snow, the cold and the fun in Lapland has clearly wiped all my work responsibilities from my brain as I can’t remember at all what was in the diary before I left. Having a handsome millionaire tell you that he loves you and wants you to move in with him and his children also tends to scramble the grey matter, I’ve now found.

  Jim was up early and brought me and the boys a cup of tea. Jim was first in the shower, then Kieran and, finally, Andrew. I lay there, listening to the sound of the water, the sound of strangers in my home, and wondered what I’d do if I needed to use the loo urgently. Cross my legs, I guess. Carter’s house has more bathrooms than we have any type of room.

  When the coast is clear and I finally get up, both of the boys are dressed and watching breakfast television. The room is fuggy and smells slightly stale. I want to open the window and air it, but they might think it’s because of them and I don’t want to insult them.

  They jump up when they see me.

  ‘Can we get you some tea?’ Kieran says, eager to please.

  ‘That would be nice. Thank you.’

  ‘Sorry about last night,’ he says. ‘Rozzer told me. I don’t know I do it.’

  ‘It’s OK. Did you sleep after that?’

  ‘I think so,’ he says with a shrug. ‘Your sofa’s a lot more comfortable than my bunk was.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad to hear it.’

  ‘Is there anything we can do today? We want to earn our keep. We’re not just going to sit around and get under your feet, Cassie.’

  ‘I’ll check the computer, see what’s on for this week. I’m sure there’ll be something.’ If I’m honest, I can’t even believe we’re so close to Christmas, let alone think what’s coming up in the
diary. ‘The only thing for definite is that I have to go and finish the decorations at Randall Court.’

  ‘It’s all done,’ Kieran says.

  I spin round. ‘What?’

  He shrugs. ‘We went up there with Jim while you were away. We did the kids’ bedrooms, the garland thingy and Jim did the flower arrangements.’

  ‘You did?’ My heart is beating erratically. I have to get up there today. What if they’ve made a terrible hash of them? I’m charging Carter an absolute fortune and I don’t want the lads messing it up. That place has to look immaculate. Even more so now that Carter and I, well… I can’t even finish that sentence myself.