Christmas for One: No Greater Love

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘Yay! I don’t believe it – you came! I’m stoked!’ Juno shouted as she rushed over and grabbed Meg by the arm.

  Juno looked stunning in her signature tight bun and high-necked white shirt and black skirt. Today she’d added a generous amount of pillar-box-red lipstick, which accentuated her full mouth. Meg noted the mix of staff and customers. One or two people in black jeans and oversized black-framed glasses – food journalists, she assumed – made notes and swooped on the silver platters being passed around, keen to sample everything. The launch party. Meg had had no idea it was today; her heart sank at the realisation. Oh no, please not today.

  Juno looked ecstatic. ‘I sent the invite but I thought, there’s no way she’ll come at such short notice, plus she’s only just gone back,’ she gabbled. ‘But I sent it anyway. It was important that you knew we wanted you here. And here you are. I can’t believe it!’ Juno gave a delighted giggle before looking Meg in the eye and gesturing at the space. ‘What do you think?’ Her eyes were wide. ‘Are you happy?’

  Happy? I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again. I thought he loved me, but why would he? I’m so stupid.

  Meg wanted to hide away in a dark corner and book a flight; instead she was going to have to socialise. The very idea felt like torture. She looked at the clusters of wall lights and remembered her last visit and what they had had to go through to get things finished. She thought of the photograph of Mr Redlitch with his arm around the waist of the girl he loved, lucky girl. ‘I really am. It all looks amazing. You’ve done an incredible job, Juno, all of you.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have been a proper launch party without you. I’m so glad you came, and you kept it a surprise. You are totally rad, Meg.’ Juno lightly punched Meg’s shoulder.

  Meg nodded, feeling far from rad, assuming that was a good thing.

  Christmas carols were being piped via the speakers and a small Christmas tree sat in a red china pot on the counter top. In lieu of baubles and tinsel, stars and angels fashioned from baked golden salt dough hung from each branch; they were covered in thick royal icing and edible glitter and threaded with red and white gingham ribbon. They were perfect.

  Scanning the bistro tables, which were crammed with people, Meg tried to keep smiling, fighting the temptation to sob loudly. There were some faces she recognised, including those of Elene and Salvatore. They were busy gorging themselves on tiny crème-filled caramelised choux buns from the impressive St Honoré gateau on the table in front of them. The St Honoré was a Plum Patisserie staple, filled with vanilla-bean cream and topped with Chantilly and they were clearly enjoying it. Meg smiled. Elene’s badgering had obviously paid off.

  On the wide wooden counter sat millefeuille stacks: three layers of pastry, crème pâtissière and confiture de fraises topped with thick fondant icing and combed through with threads of chocolate. Dainty pyramids of macaroons in flavours that ranged from pistachio to rose were arranged in a rainbow of colours. Mini tartes au citron were interspersed with tiny glazed lemon frangipane tarts. Eclairs oozing fresh cream and topped with glossy blankets of shiny chocolate jostled for space alongside tiny sugar-dusted beignets that were garnished with sugar-paste sprigs of green holly and red berries.

  The patisserie looked and smelt fantastic and the assembled New Yorkers beamed as they let the delicacies melt on their tongues, washing everything down with fragrant teas, chocolat chaud and chilled champagne. Everyone clearly loved the ambience and fare of this new kid on the block.

  The blackboard on the back wall was written up in Juno’s neat script: ‘Join us at Plum Patisserie every morning from 7 to 9 a.m. to enjoy the Bleecker Street Breakfast – a flat white coffee, two giant fresh-baked golden croissants and pots of confiture d’abricots and organic honey for dipping. See you in the morning!’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind.’ Juno pointed at the board. ‘Nancy said it was Mr Redlitch’s favourite and he was so looking forward to popping in each morning for his breakfast. We thought it would be a nice thing to do.’

  Meg nodded. ‘I think it’s a great thing to do.’ She widened her eyes and blinked away her tears. Poor Mr Redlitch…

  Juno gave her a small hug. ‘I know. It’s been an emotional journey getting to here.’

  Meg smiled; she didn’t know the half of it.

  ‘Hey, here’s Victor!’ Juno released her grip and went to greet the building superintendent.

  He had spruced up for the occasion and looked older somehow in his pale slacks, long-sleeved shirt and Christmas sweater. Meg noticed how he reached for his belt loops, searching for the keys and torch of his uniform, props that he didn’t have at hand to rely on, not today. Meg felt so weakened; it took super-human effort to raise her hand and wave at him from across the room. He beamed back, any misdemeanour on her part now clearly forgiven.

  ‘I just need to go and freshen up, put my slap on,’ Meg called after Juno, indicating the back offices and kitchens, below stairs, before rubbing her make-up-free eyes, still gritty with tears.

  ‘Yes, sure. You look beat, actually. This jet-set lifestyle must be taking it out of you,’ Juno called back over her shoulder, touching her hand to her own heart as if noticing for the first time her boss’s less than sparkling demeanour.

  I am beat. Beaten. ‘Shan’t be a mo!’ Meg smiled with false bravado and picked up her bag, trying to make her way across the room without having to stop and chat. She could feel a sob building in her chest and didn’t want it coming out there on the café floor.

  ‘Meg! Hey, Meg! Over here, sweetie!’ Elene gestured wildly from her table.

  Meg had no choice but to acknowledge her. She raised her hand and made her way over.

  Elene beamed and with her crimson nails elegantly pulled the choux bun from her fingers and placed it on the table. This enabled her to lay her sticky, sugar-coated palm on Meg’s coat.

  ‘Honey, this is my friend Stella, the one I told you about.’ Elene gestured at the diminutive elderly lady beside her with grey set hair and a heavy palette of make-up smeared over her crêpey jowls.

  ‘Pleased to meetchoo.’ Stella nodded graciously to the side.

  ‘Yes, you too.’ Meg indicated the detritus of pastry, cream, crumbs and droplets of icing on the table in front of them. ‘How are the cakes?’

  Elene clapped her hand on to the pussy bow of her leopard-print blouse. ‘Oh my word. They are the finest cakes I have ever tasted – ever! I said to Sali, I thought I could bake, but oh my, these are somethin’ else. Isn’t that right, Sali?’

  ‘Sure.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Ignore him.’ Elene pointed at her husband with her thumb as though he were deaf. ‘He can’t give a compliment in case his face cracks.’

  Stella let out a wheezing laugh, which set Elene off. They were having a good time.

  ‘I didn’t know you were in town. Where you staying, Meg? With lover boy?’ Elene smiled. ‘Ah, don’t look so worried.’ She batted the air with her hand. ‘I didn’t expect you to stay with us, not now you and Mr Kelly are so close. I’m pleased for you. I really am. Hopefully we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the Village now?’ she fished.

  Meg simply nodded and prepared to walk away, but Salvatore placed his hand over the back of her palm, which rested on the table. ‘You did good, kid,’ he murmured. And he winked at her with the beginnings of a smile that quickly faded.

  Meg felt the tears rising at his unexpected gesture and words of kindness; it was enough to push her over the edge. ‘I must go and freshen up.’ She pointed towards the back door, trying to smile; it was becoming harder and harder.

  ‘Hey, talk of the devil! Here he is!’ Elene pointed over Meg’s shoulder.

  She felt her blood run cold and her heart jump. Oh please, no!

  She heard Juno’s voice echoing with excitement. ‘Monsieur l’architecte! You made it!’

  Turning, Meg instinctively felt her face wanting to smile at the sight of him. He looked wonderful in his crisp white shirt and navy jacke
t – over jeans, of course. Not that she had expected him to change in any way; it had been less than a week since she had seen him in person, only a couple of days or so since he had watched her fall asleep across the miles. Meg felt anchored to the spot. Her legs shook and her heart thudded as she saw his stricken expression.

  Without acknowledging anyone or anything, he made his way over to her. She watched his hands twitch in her direction, wanting to take hers, but deciding against it, thank goodness.

  ‘Ma… Me—’ he stuttered.

  ‘It’s Meg,’ she assisted. ‘I understand it must be hard to keep track.’ She spoke quickly but quietly, not wanting to bring her domestic disaster to work on this day of celebration.

  ‘I know it’s Meg, Meg! I was going to say Mary, but I didn’t think you’d find it funny.’ His expression was doleful.

  ‘I never did,’ she lied. ‘And incidentally I’m not finding anything very funny right now.’ She was aware of her shallow breaths and that her chest was heaving with all that it contained.

  ‘I get it. I dumped the grocery bags and came here as quickly as I could.’ Edd scanned the crowds around them, looking for a quiet spot.

  ‘Oh, well, thank you so much for coming.’ Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. ‘I hope your girlfriend puts the groceries away. I can’t stand to think of you two love birds having spoilt milk.’

  Edd grabbed her arm and steered her more forcefully than she was comfortable with towards the back of the shop. He led her down the service stairs and out into the small courtyard at the back of the kitchen. She was irritated that he had taken control and had marched her so determinedly out of the café and doubly irritated by the way her body folded and sang at the touch of his hand on her arm. Flavia’s words floated into her head, ‘Flavia, Edd’s girlfriend…’, and her tears finally broke their banks, falling down her cheeks and splashing from her nose and eyelashes.

  ‘Oh God, please don’t.’ Edd placed his hand over his mouth as his own eyes misted over. He reached for her, but hesitated as he watched her shrink from him. Finally he placed his hand inside his jacket, resting it on his hip as he paced in circles in front of her. ‘I can’t bear to see you cry,’ he whispered.

  Meg stood in front of a trio of large metal bins and folded her arms across her chest. She let her head hang forward and her hair dangle over her face; she was glad of the veil.

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said.

  ‘No. You need to talk!’ Her words when they did come were fired from lips contorted with anguish; they were delivered quickly and with anger. She tucked her palms under her arms. Her muscles ached with the effort of trying to stop herself from trembling with distress and cold.

  Edd exhaled and raised his hands as if in submission. ‘I love you.’

  ‘Don’t start with all that bollocks!’ she shouted.

  ‘It’s not bollocks. I love you, Meg. I do. And even though this is a mess, I am so pleased to see you. I hated every second of being away from you.’ His tone was pleading.

  ‘Is it true? Is Flavia your girlfriend?’ She cut to the chase, unable to cope with the sugar-coating when they were yet to establish the fundamentals.

  ‘Yes.’ His voice was calm, directed at the floor.

  ‘Oh God. There was still a tiny space in my head that was hoping it wasn’t true, that it was some kind of horrible mix-up.’ Meg shook her head. ‘I don’t believe it. I am so fucking stupid.’

  ‘You’re not, you’re not stupid.’

  ‘I must be, don’t you get it? You made me the other woman again! And yet again I wasn’t given the choice because I didn’t know. So yes, I must be fucking stupid.’

  ‘You didn’t know…’ Edd offered.

  ‘No, I didn’t. Not that it makes it any easier. You lied to me and you promised you wouldn’t and like an idiot I believed you.’ This she uttered through clenched teeth. ‘I can’t believe I fell for it!’

  ‘I never lied to you. I never said Flavia and I had finished.’ He caught her eye.

  ‘No, you’re right, clever Edd. You didn’t quite, did you? And you might not have lied outright, but there are many ways to be dishonest and lying through omission is one of them.’ Meg felt a swell of anger inside her. ‘I met her, Edd, and she was lovely and beautiful and she has big boobs and I had to look her in the eye, knowing that I had slept in her bed, with her man and it was shit! You put me in that position.’

  ‘It’s not her bed, it’s my bed. She doesn’t live with me.’ He shook his head.

  ‘Oh, well, that makes it okay then!’ Her words dripped with sarcasm. Meg pictured the mauve sequined cushions, at odds with the masculine design of the apartment. A woman’s touch.

  ‘I know it doesn’t make any difference and I can’t imagine what it was like to turn up and find her there. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ His voice was quiet.

  ‘Well, sorry is easy, too easy and doesn’t mean fuck all. I’m sorry for assuming you were single. I can’t think where I got that idea.’ She placed her finger over her lips as though in contemplation. ‘Oh, actually, thinking about it, it might have been something to do with the fact you picked me up, we had sex in your apartment and then you took me to meet your mother. Oh, and the church visit, that was a nice touch, completely reeled me in. Don’t even get me started on the fricking million texts and messages all telling me about our fantastic fucking future!’

  She watched what could have been a look of hurt flash across his face, but that was too bad, she wasn’t done. ‘I have flown around the bloody world to see you, to spend Christmas with you.’ As these words left her mouth, she thought of Lucas and hearing him saying the word ‘Edd’ and the joy it had brought her. ‘I have waved my little boy off for Christmas without me! Something I said I would never do and I did it because I believed you. I thought I was paving the way for our glorious future, the one you told me we would have. I’m such a fucking idiot!’ She banged her clenched fists against her thighs.

  Edd stepped forward with his arms wide, waiting to encircle her, comfort her.

  ‘Don’t you dare touch me! Don’t you dare. You’re a fake and a liar and a bastard!’

  Edd shook his head. ‘No. I’m not. I’m really not. I love you, Meg!’

  ‘Stop saying it. Just stop it. It doesn’t mean anything. Not now,’ she howled.

  ‘Well it means something to me,’ he countered. ‘I have never lied to you. It’s just that it has all happened so fast and it’s not straightforward. Things are not what they seem between Flavia and me. And they haven’t been for a very long time.’

  ‘Oh well that’s good because she seemed like your girlfriend and you seemed to have been stringing me along with your bullshit!’ she shouted.

  Edd sighed, ‘She’s, she’s fragile.’

  And I’m not?

  ‘I’ve known for a while it wasn’t right, maybe always, but I didn’t do anything about it because I was chicken and working such crazy hours that I hardly ever saw her. I admit I avoided the conversation because I hate hurting people and I was waiting for the right time. I feel sorry for her. She lost her mom this year and she hasn’t got anyone else. I didn’t want to add to her hurt.’

  ‘Have you slept with her since you met me?’ Meg looked him squarely in the eye, picturing the beautiful girl in the kimono top who had offered her coffee.

  ‘No, we’ve shared a bed a couple of times, but nothing happened,’ he admitted. This made her tears fall afresh as she recalled his words, after her night in his bed, ‘… just a little making out. But no more than second base, I swear!’ She pictured him and Flavia together and her gut twisted with sadness and jealousy.

  He took a step closer to her. ‘And the only reason she stayed over was because I couldn’t figure out how to get her to leave.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I can hear how shit that sounds.’

  ‘You think?’ she managed between sobs.

  ‘I don’t love her in the way I should. I don’t think I ever have. We were just friends to start wi
th and we supported each other through some tough times, me missing my dad and her mom dying. After a while we drifted into bed with each other and I haven’t had the heart or the guts to admit that I wanted out. I’ve just avoided the discussion, but then I met you. I love you. You, Meg. You haven’t been out of my head for one second, not one single second since we met.’

  ‘What, even when you were snuggling up to Miss Carb-Free-Organic?’ she quipped, wanting to dislike Flavia, but finding it almost impossible.

  ‘Yes, even then.’ He whispered his admission.

  ‘Fucking hell. You are the limit!’

  ‘I know how this sounds, how it looks, but, Meg, just let me say—’

  ‘No. I will not let you say anything, because nothing you can say will change this. You’re just like all the others.’ Meg turned around and banged the bin with the heel of her hand; it gave off a loud, metallic thud that rattled around the courtyard. She thought of Bill, of her dad, thought about everyone that had let her down, lied to her or abandoned her. ‘I don’t want to see you ever again. Ever. And I wish to God I’d never met you; you turned my world and my son’s world upside down for nothing. That’s a cruel trick to play.’

  ‘It’s not a trick. I love you.’ It was as if he could think of nothing else to say.

  Meg straightened her back and pushed her hair behind her ears. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. ‘Fuck off, Edward. Go back to your needy girlfriend and your controlling mother.’

  Edd opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. Turning, he reached for the handle and opened the door that would take him from the courtyard and out of her life.

  ‘Incidentally,’ Meg called. He looked back and she was shocked to see the tears that fell from his eyes, turning them instantly bloodshot. ‘If what you’re saying is true, which I don’t believe for one second, then why are you still with her? If you’ve been waiting for the right time, why wasn’t the right time when you met me?’