Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5)

by Farrell, Julie

  She struggled out of the undone negligee – knowing it had now served its purpose – then she tugged the snuggly duvet over her, looking forward a nice cup of tea and some more loving when he returned.

  She listened to the silence. She could vaguely hear the sound of the sea crashing against the rocks in the distance. And, nearer by, there was a bird chirping sweetly, which soothed Sam’s soul like summertime. Her muscles relaxed, allowing the pillow to support her. Maybe she could have a little snooze until Verlaine came back.

  A soft knock at the door dragged her back to reality.

  Sam chuckled. “Verlaine, you don’t need to knock!”

  The door was pushed open from the landing, and Sam automatically let the duvet drop, knowing her naked upper-body was appealing to her man. She opened her mouth to welcome him back, but her heart squeezed tightly as she saw Rebecca strolling in.

  Sam drew the duvet up to her chin.

  Rebecca threw her a syrupy smile. “Hi, Sam.”

  “Hi,” Sam said. “Where’s Verlaine?”

  “He’s downstairs chatting with his parents and my mom. And Scott and Paul.”

  The room melted around Sam as she suddenly realised what Rebecca was implying. “You guys didn’t go out?”

  Rebecca sat down on the bed. “I made you a cup of tea. Verlaine said I should pop up and check you were okay. He’s down there defending you now.”

  “Oh my god. Everyone heard me?”

  Rebecca nodded. “It was nice to hear you enjoying yourself. But yes… unfortunately now Patty and Jim think you lied about your headache. Obviously I don’t think you lied – I totally understand. You were just tired and then things happened. I stuck up for you – I want you to know that.”

  “Did you?”

  “Sure. I know this is an incredibly embarrassing situation for you. You must be feeling real awkward right now.”

  “God. I guess I’d better come down and apologise, then, hadn’t I?”

  “Maybe it’s best not to say anything. Verlaine’s parents are quite embarrassed, and they’re the ‘least said soonest mended type’. I know them very well.”

  “Really? You think they’d prefer to just not mention it?”

  “I sure do.” Rebecca passed her the mug of tea. “Here, this is for you.”

  Sam gazed at the steaming beige liquid. A good cuppa could solve most things, but she somehow didn’t like the idea of brushing all this under the carpet. Surely she should speak to Patty and Jim about this – like the adults they all were. She opened her mouth to suggest this, but Rebecca reached out and gently squeezed Sam’s bare shoulder with her immaculately manicured fingers. Sam drew the duvet up further.

  Rebecca smiled kindly. “You know what, Sam, I’m so glad you’re here. You seem so easy to talk to. Don’t tell, but I get weary of talking cars with Jim sometimes!”

  Sam chuckled. “I know what you mean – my eyes glaze over at the mention of cars! But you really seem to know your stuff.”

  “Oh, I do like cars, but there are much better things to talk about, right!”

  “Yeah.” Sam sipped her tea. “Thanks for this cuppa. It’s perfect – exactly how I take it.”

  “Oh, how lucky!”

  “Yeah, you’re a natural-born tea maker!”

  They smiled into each other’s eyes. Sam relaxed and allowed herself to sink into Rebecca’s affectionate gesture. She pushed herself to be brave. “Listen, Rebecca, I was really sorry to hear about your dad. I’ve lost both my parents, so I know what you’re going through. If you need someone to talk to, please just feel free.”

  Tears welled in Rebecca’s eyes. “Thank you, Sam. I miss him so much. And I’m getting divorced, too! I wonder what else can go wrong!”

  “Well, what I’ve learnt is that there will always be problems in life, but it’s how I deal with things that determines whether I stay happy or not. Or sane!”

  Rebecca laughed. “You’re a wise and intelligent woman, Sam. And so pretty. I haven’t yet met one person who doesn’t adore you. I wonder how you do it!”

  Sam blushed. “Oh, thanks.”

  “I guess being adorable just comes naturally to you, huh?”

  A nebula of humble affection exploded in Sam’s chest. She didn’t know what to say, so she just smiled gratefully, feeling overjoyed that they were having this chat.

  Rebecca stood. “I’ll leave you to drink your tea. And don’t worry about what happened earlier – everything will work out. I think everyone’s going for a walk – we’re gonna give the museums a miss after all. I hope you’ll join us?”

  Sam nodded. “Thanks, I’d like that. And thank you again for the tea.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you down there.”

  Rebecca threw her a tender smile, then she left.

  Sam stared at the door, then gazed into her tea. An oak tree of contentedness bloomed within. She realised now that she’d completely misjudged Rebecca because of her own insecurities. Rebecca was a great person, and Sam hoped they could be friends. She grinned. Today was just getting better and better.

  Chapter Nine

  Tracing his steps along this country path shoved Verlaine back decades to his youth. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed his childhood – they weren’t bad years, like some people had, but he was definitely happier now. Although the rosy glow of nostalgia was always quite seductive. The past was over – it was safe – whereas the future was uncertain…

  This muddy pathway had been dug out by ancient tractor tyres years ago, and it’d always been his favourite part of the winding ramble down towards the village. The idyllic scenery hadn’t changed at all. Well, okay, the trees seemed a little taller now, but other than that, there was the green field stretching out into the distance, the ramshackle wire fence which was tethered by wooden posts, and the little stone church where Rebecca, aged nine, had once informed him they would wed.

  Never in a million years.

  Verlaine breathed in the metallic winter tang, which filled his body with a wide-open sense of happiness, reflecting the wide-open landscape around him. His thoughts drifted to why Rebecca had been so keen to take Sam her tea just now, but a shriek from ahead made him look up. He chuckled. Scott was trying to manhandle Sam into a deep puddle in the middle of the path, and Paul was trying to save her, which was resulting in Sam being pushed and pulled by two attractive men – one in front and one behind. Sam seemed to be enjoying it, even though she was shouting ‘no, stop!’

  Verlaine grinned, momentarily feeling fatherly towards her. Sometimes he envied how much fun Sam seemed to have with Scott. He made her laugh in ways that Verlaine simply couldn’t fathom. It was as if Scott understood Sam fundamentally differently to Verlaine, no matter how hard he tried. But he wanted Sam be happy, and Scott certainly made her that. Verlaine supposed unconditional love was about letting go of jealousy and just relishing the joy of his loved-one.

  He continued to watch as Sam managed to avoid getting her feet wet, and then she set off with Paul and Scott – one on each side – arms draped around each other, chatting animatedly.

  Rebecca suddenly appeared at Verlaine’s side and stepped into stride with him, causing him to wilt internally. He wasn’t in the mood for making small talk with her after Ellie had been so unpleasant. But he couldn’t really ignore her, so he smiled thinly. Rebecca gazed up at him with those cold blue eyes that had always freaked him out, even when he’d loved her. She’d always been concerned with her appearance, but now it seemed she’d become even more obsessed. Her face was covered in make-up, just for a winter stroll, and her smart skin-tight jeans and tweed jacket were clearly expensive. Even her gumboots looked designer, which seemed a bit silly, because it was a mud-bath out here.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, Bex. You okay?”

  “Sure am. And you?”

  “Awesome.”

  “Cool.”

  She glanced up ahead at Sam, Scott, and Paul, who were still enjoying themselves like jo
vial children.

  “It’s funny bringing new people to our little Christmas haunt, isn’t it?” she asked.

  Verlaine’s cold breath streamed from his mouth as he spoke. “Yeah, I guess.”

  She threw him a tender smile, then hooked her hand around his upper-arm. He didn’t shake her away, because he saw no harm in it. Not when Sam was still so brazenly enjoying the attention from Scott and Paul.

  “You and I were an item when we last strolled down here,” she said.

  “A lot of water’s gone under the bridge since then.”

  “Sure has. You moved here permanently; I got married.”

  “And divorced.”

  “Yep. Life goes on, though, huh? My motto is: there’ll always be problems in life, but it’s how you deal with things that determines whether or not you’ll be happy.”

  Verlaine frowned. “That’s what Sam says, too.”

  “Well, she’s an intelligent woman. You’ve fallen on your feet there.”

  His chest filled with warm honey-love. “She’s awesome.”

  “She is. There was just one thing about her that I wanted to… oh it’s nothing.”

  “What?”

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to put you off her.”

  “You won’t. No one could.”

  They walked in silence. It was awkward because they hadn’t managed to get their pace in sync, so Verlaine felt uncomfortable and wonky as she gripped his arm. He wished he could catch up with the other three and join in the fun. But Rebecca was speaking again.

  “It’ll be nice to put up the Christmas decorations tonight. Just like in the old days.”

  “Oh, I can’t tonight; we’re heading back into London for a party.”

  Rebecca’s body sagged. “Oh right – leave me with the parents then, why don’tcha?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Well, don’t be sorry – invite me along!”

  Panic seeped into his brain. “Er, I don’t think you’d enjoy it.”

  “Of course I would. Why not?”

  “Because, um… it’s a private members’ club that Scott and Paul are part of. It’s exclusive.”

  “Well, tell them to add me to the guest list. I’ve been to plenty of exclusive parties before. I am actually a successful insurance broker, you know.”

  “I know. But, honest, you wouldn’t wanna go, Bex. Seriously.”

  “Why? What sort of a party is it?”

  Verlaine subtly reclaimed his arm as his mind swam with what lies he could tell her. “It’s just not the sort of party you’d enjoy. That’s all. Okay?”

  Rebecca gazed down at the muddy grass for a few paces, then she suddenly gasped and halted. She glanced over her shoulder at the three parents, then she whispered. “Oh my god, I think I understand!”

  “You do?”

  She grinned. “A swingers’ party! Verlaine, are you serious?”

  He raised his hands defensively. “It’s not as sleazy as it sounds, okay.”

  “Well it sounds very sleazy.”

  “Well it’s not. It’s just something Sam wants to try. Scott and Paul have been a few times and they seem to enjoy it. There’s no pressure to do anything.”

  Rebecca’s face flashed with mischievousness. “Have you been before?”

  “No. Sam wants to go tonight so I said we’d give it a try. Don’t tell my mom and dad, okay.”

  She placed her hand flat on her chest to ‘swear’. “Okay, I won’t tell your parents.”

  “Thanks.”

  She threw him a look of bafflement. “You’ve certainly come outta yourself since you left Michigan, huh?”

  “No one stays the same.”

  “Well, I sure hope you enjoy it tonight. Think of me stuck here blowing the dust off the Christmas decorations. While you’re blowing… well, whatever!”

  Verlaine thrust his hands in his pockets and gazed up. The moon was shining milky-white against the bright blue heavens, like a kindly parent looking down on humanity. Sam laughed loudly up ahead, making Verlaine smile.

  Rebecca relinked her arm through his. He leaned away, but she didn’t get the hint. “It must be really awkward for you watching them together,” she said. “Knowing they like each other so much.”

  “What? Who are you talking about?”

  “Sam and Scott.”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, they’re obviously attracted to each other, right?”

  “Rebecca, you do know Scott and Paul are married, don’tcha?”

  “Married people can be attracted to other people. Take my ex-husband for instance; cheating asshole.”

  “Yeah, but Scott’s not interested in women.”

  “Oh yes he is.”

  “Oh no he’s not.”

  Rebecca narrowed her eyes conspiratorially. “Have you asked him?”

  “Of course not, but… I’m sure he only likes guys. I’m sure he said that.”

  “Look, I’m not being funny, but everyone knows he likes Sam. My mother mentioned it a few minutes ago. And your parents. Everyone can see it. Even Paul. Especially Paul.”

  “Paul said something?”

  “No, but I can tell. He knows. Everyone knows.”

  “I think you’re deluded.”

  She shrugged. “You watch them at the party, Verlaine, and you’ll see what I mean.”

  He refused to get drawn into this ridiculous notion, so he disconnected himself from her again and quickened his pace.

  She huffed as he strode ahead. “Fine, don’t believe me. But it’s you I feel sorry for. It puts you in a very awkward position.”

  He jogged ahead to catch up with Sam and his friends, resisting the urge to argue with her. He desperately hoped she was mistaken. But the seeds of suspicion had been sown, and he wondered whether there could be any truth in what she’d said. Maybe he would keep an eye on Sam and Scott tonight, if only to prove himself right and Rebecca wrong.

  Chapter Ten

  Sam was so glad she’d taken the time to have a little chat with Patty before dinner with regards to her loud orgasm and headache lies. Patty had been typically lovely, assuring her there was really no need to worry. They’d hugged in the kitchen, and Sam had been relieved that the embarrassment had dissipated so easily. Now nothing could drag down her mood, not even the dark mahogany furniture in this bedroom. She glanced in the mirror and checked her make-up. She didn’t scrub up too bad, and she liked her hair twisted up on her head like this – it emphasised her cheekbones. The dress she was wearing tonight was one she’d had years, but she loved it – it was black, short, and halter-necked, which flattered her petite figure beautifully. She grinned at her reflection as she felt the constrictiveness of the stockings hugging her thighs, making her feel sexy. She’d put them on especially for this evening’s fun, but Verlaine might have to wait until they got back home to see them.

  A flash of nerves sparkled in her ribcage. What would it be like tonight, going to a party where people would be openly having sex? She’d made a rule with Verlaine earlier that they wouldn’t get involved in any activities at the venue, unless they were both totally comfortable with it. And it went without saying that they’d only be sleeping with each other. But Sam had said it anyway, just to be clear.

  Verlaine had assured her he didn’t want to have sex with anyone else anyway. She knew he was just coming along to please her, really. He was such a lovely man. And maybe it was a bit of a strange place to go. But Scott and Paul had made it sound normal and fun, and Sam was simply curious. She loved what she had already with Verlaine, sex-wise, but why not explore a little bit, too? Scott had assured her it was totally fine to go there and soak up the atmosphere – apparently lots of people did. So that was Sam’s plan. No pressure.

  She took one last glance in the mirror, then she stood up straight and made her way in her heels over to the heavy bedroom door. She rolled her shoulders away from her ears, lengthened her spine, and held her head high.

  She
felt elegant as she walked across the grand hallway, towards the staircase. She’d seen movie starlets from the 1940s descend staircases in old films before, and hoped to emulate their style. Sam rested her hand on the wooden bannister and lowered her foot to the first step. She saw that Verlaine, Paul, and Scott were loitering at the bottom, casually chatting, and paying her no attention. Verlaine looked hot in his smart shirt and jeans, and Sam was pleased to see he’d even had a shave. Paul seemed relaxed in his designer top and leather trousers, and Scott was wearing gold skin-tight flares with a sleeveless sequined T-shirt, which showed off his gorgeous physique that he worked hard at the gym to perfect. His four-inch stilettos made his legs look really long, and Sam felt a flutter of arousal at the sight of his tight, toned butt.

  She threw her attention back to her boyfriend. There was no harm in perving over Scott, but Verlaine was the man of her dreams. She smiled, then paused halfway down the stairs. She cleared her throat, waiting to be acknowledged.

  Verlaine turned, then gasped. “Baby, you look beautiful.”

  The compliment stuck her heart deep. “Thank you, Verlaine!”

  “You sure do,” Scott said, smiling sincerely.

  “Oh, thank you, Scott.”

  Paul smirked. “Yeah. You remind me of an angel descending from on high to light up the lives of us mere mortals.”

  Sam laughed. “Shut up, Paul!”

  She hurried down the rest of the steps and threw her arms around Verlaine, who pulled her close and kissed her tenderly.

  “Is this the dress you got with Scott?” he asked.

  She tutted playfully. “No, that’s for the Christmas Eve ball. You’ve seen me in this tons of times. You said I looked sexy in it.”

  “You do. You look gorgeous.”

  He kissed her on the forehead, making her feel secure and safe.

  “Are we ready to go, then?” Paul asked.

  “Yep,” Sam said.

  Verlaine gestured towards the living room door. “Let’s just say bye to the others. They’re putting up the Christmas decorations, as per tradition.”

  Verlaine opened the grand oak door for Sam, so she stepped inside. She hadn’t yet been in this room, but she could see it was the showpiece of the house. The high embossed ceiling, wooden floorboards, and delicate chandelier gave the room an exquisite nostalgia. A fire roared red and orange inside the huge stone hearth, and the wall carvings were lavishly surrounded by baroque oil paintings. But the shabby furnishings implied recent neglect. The floor rugs were tatty, the oak coffee table was chipped, and the heavy velvet curtains were ripped at one end.