I Won't Be Home For Christmas

by Amanda Prowse

  Flinging back the sheet, she tiptoed past her sleeping friend and opened the door. She trod the hallway, liking the feel of the cool slate floor under her bare feet. She ran herself a large glass of cold water and stared at the cake mountain on the countertop.

  ‘Oh, Emma…’ She sighed.

  Taking her drink, she padded across the hallway and out onto the front porch. Her gaze narrowed and she could make out a shadow standing on the deck.

  It was Gil.

  He had put on the outside lighting and small wells of light danced between the flower displays. It looked magical. She approached slowly, without giving too much thought to the fact that she was wearing her cotton pyjamas.

  As if sensing her, he turned around, clutching his wine glass to his chest.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey.’

  She walked across the grass and trod the high step up onto the deck and there they stood, side by side, looking out at the bruised, purple ocean and the dark, forbidding sky.

  ‘Am I disturbing you?’ she whispered.

  ‘Not at all.’ He shook his head.

  ‘It’s so hot. I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘Gets like that sometimes. I can never sleep after a long drive; I find it hard to switch off. I think there’ll be a storm tonight. It certainly feels like it.’ He kept his eyes on the horizon.

  ‘Did you see Michael?’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded.

  ‘How was he?’

  ‘As you’d expect.’ He took a slug of his wine. ‘He was pleased to see Emma and they were both tearful and hugging.’ He shrugged, as if this was a topic he found difficult. ‘And I’ve thought about it a lot on the way back, but I don’t honestly know if they were tears of joy at being reunited or tears of sadness at the prospect of separation or just the tears of goodbye. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.’ He glanced at her. ‘Would you like some wine?’

  ‘Sure, thank you. Funny, isn’t it, at home I wouldn’t dream of getting up in the dead of night and having a glass of wine. Cocoa maybe or a cup of tea in extreme emergencies, but never wine.’

  Gil topped up the glass he’d been drinking from and handed it to her. ‘Yeah, well, you’re not at home, are you? You’re here, where everything feels different, so you might as well make the most of it.’ His tone was clipped.

  She took a sip as they stood quietly, side by side. There was a flash of lighting followed by the crack of thunder out on the horizon, but not a drop of rain, yet.

  ‘Do you think Emma is afraid to let herself be happy?’ he asked, his voice softer.

  ‘That’s a strange thing to say.’ She took another drink of the cool, crisp, white wine.

  ‘I don’t think it’s strange.’ He shook his head. ‘I think it’s a very real possibility that she might constantly be on the move and on the lookout for the next thing, unable to settle, because somewhere along the line she’s learnt that nothing lasts forever and maybe it’s easier not to try because that path only leads to disappointment.’

  Vivienne held the glass to her mouth and took a large gulp before handing it back. ‘Are you saying that’s what I’ve taught her?’ The very idea made her insides jump.

  He took the glass from her without meeting her gaze. ‘Not intentionally, but…’

  ‘Go on,’ she urged, wanting to hear his thoughts, as much as she dreaded it too.

  ‘I think Ellen might be right: you’ve been hiding, using what happened to you so long ago as a cushion to soften any further blows. And maybe Emma thinks it’s the safest way to live, maybe that’s what she has learnt, not to hang around long enough to get too attached to anyone or anything.’

  ‘It was Ray that ran out, not me! If it’s leaving that’s been her example and set the pattern—’

  ‘No! No, Viv, you misunderstand me,’ he cut in. ‘I’m not having a go at you or blaming you.’

  ‘Well that’s what it sounded like, a bit.’ She sniffed, really not wanting to give in to the tears that threatened.

  Gil placed his wine glass on the floor and turned, taking two steps towards her. Reaching out, he took her hand. There was an undeniable spark of electricity between them, just as there had been before. She ignored the second flash in the sky and the crack of thunder that seemed a little closer now than the first. She felt her mouth go dry with nerves and her heart raced. He placed his fingers on the third finger of her left hand and touched them against the thin gold wedding band. He wiggled the ring a little, easing it over her knuckle, and then gently slid it from her finger.

  ‘You don’t need to wear this…’ He paused. ‘You aren’t married to him. And you don’t need it to protect yourself or to give you status. You need to set yourself free, Viv. You need to live that life.’

  He turned her hand over and placed the thin sliver of gold in her palm. She looked down and ran her thumb over the little circle that sat in the middle of her hand.

  Her tears came then, a steady stream, all beating the same path, and she cursed the display and the fact that they were spoiling this lovely moment, as she stood on the deck among the flowers with their heady, sweet bouquet, the sea below and the stars above and the wine working its magic, with the sexy, quiet, sheep-farmer cowboy standing in front of her.

  ‘Don’t cry, Viv. Please don’t cry. You are amazing. You are beautiful and I really would like you to stay here. With me, for Christmas.’

  He leant in to kiss her. It surprised and thrilled her. She arched forward, standing on tiptoe to return the kiss and as she did so, her fingers opened and the gold band slipped from her hand and fell between the wooden planks of the deck. She didn’t even notice, as she reached up and knitted her fingers in his hair.

  And then it came, the thunderbolt she had waited for her whole life. Her heart leapt and her stomach flipped and she was filled with a new sensation. It was like coming home. Pulling away, she looked into his face.

  ‘I’m happy,’ she managed, and without too much thought she leant forward to return the kiss. With her hands on the side of his head, she kissed him squarely on the mouth. It was a revelation: sweet, pleasant, gentle. She had quite forgotten the sheer joy of being lip to lip with another human being.

  He let his hands travel over her waist and hips, reciprocating with another kiss.

  The two retired to the wicker sofa, giggling like a couple of kids let out for the evening. She lay with her head on his shoulder.

  ‘Here.’ He lifted her head and placed a cushion under it, before putting his arm around her.

  ‘How come you’re so nice to me?’ she asked.

  ‘Because I hate to think of you having anything less than the nicest possible day. That’s what you deserve.’

  ‘I’ve never felt this hopeful, Gil. I feel like it’s all there for the taking.’ She looked out at the dark night, watched the stars twinkling over a landscape that held no history for her and was a long, long way from home.

  ‘That’s because it is.’ He smiled and twisted his neck to kiss her arm that lay on his shoulder.

  Vivienne sat up and turned to face him, their hands still entwined. ‘I can’t stay here with you for Christmas, Gil. You know that, don’t you? I just can’t.’

  He stared at her, hanging on her every word.

  She continued. ‘But I will never, ever forget how you have made me feel. You are beautiful, in every sense, but I can’t just stay on here now, lovely as it would be to spend Christmas in this heavenly place, with you. What about Emma – she can’t stay here, can she? Not after all that’s happened. She wants to get home and I understand that, she’s been gone a long time. And I can’t just leave her to settle back in Bedminster on her own, she’s going to need a bit of looking after. And I promised Bob I’d be back in a fortnight.’ She wriggled her toes and sighed. ‘There’s other people to think about, Gil. I can’t just be putting my happiness first.’

  Gil closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. Bringing their entwined fingers up to his mouth, he gently kissed the back of
her hand.

  ‘But that’s exactly what you should be doing, Viv. For once in your life, put yourself first! It’s only Christmas, for goodness’ sake, only one day and just a roast. Another three weeks here, that’s all I am asking – time for the two of us to get to know each other a bit more.’

  He ran his fingers over the side of her face and flashed her a twinkling, smile. ‘And, you know, maybe what Emma really needs is the chance to stand on her own two feet for a few weeks, back home in Bristol. A chance to reconnect on her own terms, not with you making it all happen for her. She’ll feel better for making her own decisions and will be able to see her brother, and get reacquainted with Bob. I can’t see the problem, Viv. Like I said, it’s time to live that life.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘But I won’t pressurise you again.’

  Viv’s heart was pounding in her chest. She could picture it all, there was sense in his words, but it just wasn’t her. She was not the sort of person to spontaneously fall in love with a sexy sheep-farmer cowboy and decide to stay on a few extra weeks, never mind if other people were a bit inconvenienced.

  A cool wind blew across the terrace; it felt pleasant, stirring the heat of the night. ‘That’s a nice breeze.’ She closed her eyes.

  ‘Yep, reckon the storm is heading away from us.’ He looked out to the horizon.

  She leant forward and kissed him. ‘I want us to just enjoy right now because I know that when I am walking Bob on a cold, drizzly night, memories like this will keep me warm,’ she whispered, lying once again with her head nestling on his shoulder.

  ‘Yup.’ He kissed her scalp. ‘Let’s just enjoy the right now.’ He sighed.

  ‘I won’t ever forget tonight,’ she said. ‘And when I die, I will think of this moment and it will bring me peace.’ With her eyes closed, she smiled, knowing this to be true.

  12

  Ellen lay face down on top of her suitcase, like a flailing turtle, desperately trying to do up the zip. ‘I don’t know what’s happened, I’m only going home with what I came with and I can’t close my case.’

  ‘What are you like?’ Vivienne asked, a little half-heartedly, as her friend wriggled and threatened to topple off the bed. She was tired after the dramas of the preceding days and was dreading the long journey, which seemed much less appealing without the prospect of holiday happiness at the end of it.

  ‘You look like you’ve got a case of post-holiday blues. It’s always hard to go when things have been so lovely, but this hasn’t all been lovely, Viv, and it’s time we got back and started sorting out the knots in the fairy lights.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Plus the sprouts will want putting on about now.’

  She gave a short laugh at Ellen’s attempts to cheer her up.

  ‘We’ll have a giggle on the way home, you’ll see – only two hours at Kong Hong airport but still enough time for you to try and ditch me again.

  ‘Maybe.’ She gave a weak smile.

  ‘Lord above, I tell you what, if you’re going to be this miserable, I might just get myself a pair of headphones and a Walkman and ignore you all the way home.’ Ellen tutted.

  ‘Good luck finding a Walkman – this isn’t the eighties.’

  Ellen poked her tongue out at her friend, before continuing to gabble. ‘How long do you think it will be before we stop, once we’ve set off for the airport? I need to plan my loo breaks.’

  ‘I don’t know, Elle. Maybe you should just sit on a towel.’

  ‘Okay, Miss Snarky! It wasn’t me that had to put on Nicola Brown’s gym knickers.’

  ‘It was Ribena!’ she yelled.

  ‘There’s no need to shout,’ Ellen replied, at little more than a whisper. She stood up and looked at her friend. ‘Look, Viv, I know you’re going to miss being here and your little flirtation with Gil. It’s been good for you and it’s been great to see you so happy, it really has. I hope it’s made you realise that there’s more to life than working and walking Bob. It’s like I said, you need to get out there.’

  Vivienne ignored her; too stunned by the way she felt to even know how to explain that this was so much more than a little flirtation. Gil might have described the obstacles in their way as surmountable, but to her they felt like the exact opposite.

  She left the bedroom without looking back, pulling her suitcase behind her, as she walked past the vast kitchen and cathedral-like hallway of Gil’s magnificent home, barely glancing up, as if it was already a memory, as if she couldn’t bear to look at what she would be leaving behind. Making her way to the back terrace, she cast one last look at the deck, still beautiful under the weight of the wedding flowers, and took even more snaps of the sea beyond, knowing that no photograph could truly capture the magic of Aropari.

  ‘All set?’ Gil called from the truck. He placed their cases in the flatbed of the truck and stepped back. Ellen buckled up into the middle seat, next to him. He had reverted to being a little cool and this she understood to be his way of keeping a lid on things. She got the distinct sense that, like her, he couldn’t wait to get the journey over with.

  It was a less than happy drive along the state highway; not even the grand vistas and Ellen’s rambling chatter could distract her from the fact that in a little over two hours she would be saying goodbye.

  The signs indicating Auckland International Airport came up sooner than she’d imagined, and they turned off the highway. The modern, sloping-roofed building looked much smaller than it had when they’d arrived, but then she’d been distracted by the intoxicating sight and sound of Emma. She looked up at the large white triangular canopies that bore the words City of Sails. It made her think of her time in Gil’s boat, when she’d dipped her hand into the cool, salty water while wearing his Northland hat and they had got caught in the rain. She knew that that day, in fact all her days at Tutukaka, would sustain her through the long shifts on the till at Asda, a welcome diversion from the cold draughts that invariably blew in under the door and chilled her toes. She also knew that there wouldn’t be anyone waiting at home to pop soft wool socks onto her feet and give them a warm.

  Gil lifted his hand, acknowledging the traffic cop who was pointing at the drop-off sign. ‘Two minutes!’ he called out, quickly jumping out, pulling down the tailgate and removing their two heavy suitcases containing wedding outfits they had never got to wear and plastic flowers for their hair bought in haste. He placed the cases side by side on the kerb and hopped back into the driver’s seat. ‘Cheers then!’ he shouted from the open window. Then he indicated and pulled away from the drop-off zone, into the stream of traffic. And just like that, he was gone.

  ‘But…’ Vivienne felt her chest heave as her breath came in irregular bursts.

  ‘He couldn’t stop, love. He had to get off, that policeman was watching him. We’d already said our thank yous and goodbyes on the journey, you know that.’

  ‘But…’ She stared after the truck, watching it disappear out of view. ‘I wanted to say goodbye properly. I… I wanted to talk to him!’ She was aware of how desperate she sounded. She gripped the handle of her handbag and fought the desire to cry.

  Ellen rubbed the top of her arm. ‘You can write to him or email him.’

  ‘I don’t want to write to him! That’s not enough!’ She raised her voice, snapping at her friend, as she shrugged her arm free and her tears finally gathered.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Ellen bent low and spoke softly.

  ‘I’m not ready to go,’ she managed, wiping her eyes with her fingers and swallowing as she fought to regain her composure. ‘I’m not ready to go home yet.’

  ‘Oh I know, love. Everyone feels like that after a lovely holiday, everyone wants just one more day and then another and another. It’s what Trev always says, why can’t we just stay here, just you and me in the sunshine? Lord, we’ve even looked in estate-agent windows, working out how much our house would fetch, and then picturing our evenings walking on the beach with a sangria in our hands. And it sounds lovely, idyllic, but it�
�s not real life, is it? Real life is what’s waiting for us at home.’

  Vivienne looked up at her friend. ‘But don’t you see, Elle, that’s just it – you have Trev, you’ve always had Trev, but I don’t have anyone waiting for me. And now I might have found him and I don’t want to go home. Why can’t this be my real life? Why can’t I stay here for a little bit longer, why can’t I have Christmas here with Gil?’

  ‘Christmas? Don’t be daft, we need to get home. And you are not alone, you’ve got me. And you’ve got Aaron and Lizzie – okay, bad example – but you’ve got Bob and now you’ve got Emma coming home!’

  Vivienne stared at the slip road that wound out of the airport complex, hoping for a final glimpse of the truck, but he’d gone. ‘I want to stay a bit longer. I need to talk to him, I need to figure out whether it was a thunderbolt or whether it was just the wine and the stars.’ She placed her fingers over her eyes, as if trying to block out the distraction of the busy airport terminal, and sighed. ‘I know I’m not making much sense.’

  ‘No, you’re not. I don’t know what you mean.’ Ellen shook her head.

  ‘I mean, Elle,’ she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and swallowed her tears, ‘that Gil has asked me to stay here with him for Christmas and I want to. I really do.’

  ‘But…’ Ellen’s eyes narrowed and her lips moved, as if she was desperately searching for the words that would express how she was feeling. ‘You can’t.’

  Vivienne placed her hand on her friend’s arm. ‘It’s okay, Elle, I’m only going to be a Skype screen away, and it’s not forever, just a couple of weeks. I just think I can’t afford not to explore the way I’m feeling. What if this is my one shot, what if I’m being given this one chance? I need to see him again, but I’ll be home in the New Year with tales of my adventure.’