by Alison May
A knock rattled the chair he’d wedged against the door. They both sat up. Another knock. Sean scrambled to his feet. There was a low clearing of the throat outside the door.
‘Lunchtime,’ called Sean’s dad. ‘Your mother asked me to come and find you.’
Michelle jumped up, grabbing her knickers from the desk where they’d been thrown earlier.
Sean stifled a laugh. ‘We’ll be there in a minute.’
They jostled round the room, picking up clothes, pulling them on hurriedly, without speaking. Michelle could feel her cheeks burning. What must Sean’s family think of her? Turning up for Christmas with a man she’d only met a few days ago, and then disappearing to … to … erm … to have … her brain wouldn’t allow her to think it aloud. She leant against the desk to pull her socks on, and then stood in the middle of the room smoothing down her jumper, unable to look at her … at her new … at Sean.
‘Right then.’ She started towards the door. Sean stepped behind her, grabbed her hand and spun her to face him.
‘They can wait a minute longer.’ He bent to kiss her, soft and strong and loaded with good intentions. Michelle responded, feeling her nerves settling.
Another knock.
Sean pulled away, resting his forehead onto hers. ‘Once more into the breach then Macduff.’
Christmas dinner in the Munro household was perfect in its imperfection. Gravy was spilt; siblings talked over one another; wine was spilt children bickered over the last lonely pig-in-a-blanket; Sean’s mum fretted about whether the turkey was cooked right through; her children reminded her, loudly, that she had the same panic every year and it was always, predictably, fine. Michelle was able to eat her meal quietly, squashed on one corner of the table, with Sean to one side, and the sharp tablecloth-covered drop to the children’s table on the other.
She watched the family without her usual feeling of claustrophobia and discomfort. She’d hated family events with her dad and The Elf. She’d been shoehorned in, like they were trying to force her stiff, hard edges into a smooth, round hole. Here no one seemed to care where or how she fit; it was assumed that she would, and the family morphed and shifted around her to make space.
Listening to the chatter and eating her meal were small distractions from the thing taking up the rest of her attention. Sean. Sean, who was sitting right next to her. Sean, whose leg was brushing against her own. Sean, who was bending down to pick his dropped napkin from the floor and running his hand up her calf and thigh as he sat up again. Sean, whose mere proximity was making her senses tingle. Sean, who had finished his meal, and placed his hand, quietly, unobtrusively, hidden by the tablecloth, on her thigh where he was stroking small insistent circles, moving higher and higher.
Michelle gasped, and saw heads turn towards her. She covered quickly with a loud theatrical cough. Across the table, she could see the laughter in Bel’s eye.
‘You all right there?’
Michelle nodded. ‘I’m good.’
Chapter Eleven
Christmas Afternoon, 2013
‘Look who’s here!’
Michelle looked up from an involved game of post-lunch Monopoly to see Bel ushering a stranger into the lounge. The newcomer was about Michelle’s age, but that was their only point of similarity. This woman was radiantly beautiful, and exquisitely dressed. She pulled off her long wool coat to reveal leather boots below a fitted pencil skirt and soft silk blouse. The woman scanned the room before her gaze settled on Michelle.
‘You’re new.’
‘Michelle is a …’ Bel paused ‘… a friend of Sean’s.’
‘Friend’ sounded like a euphemism for something sordid.
The newcomer smiled. ‘How wonderful. I’m Cora.’
She stepped forward and leant to clasp Michelle’s hand before Michelle could get up, leaving Michelle awkwardly half sitting and half standing.
‘Sean and I go way back,’ the newcomer continued. ‘So many stories I could tell you about him.’
I bet there are, thought Michelle. She pulled her hand away and dragged herself to her feet. There was no mistaking the hint of fight in the stranger’s tone, although it must have been clear that Michelle was not much opposition, stylish, as she was, in leggings and a borrowed Munro family Christmas jumper. She plastered on her most dazzling smile. ‘Really? I’m not sure he’s mentioned you.’
The woman paused, and pressed home her advantage. ‘I wonder why not. You wouldn’t think getting married would slip someone’s mind, would you?’
Trying to pretend the thrust hadn’t hit a nerve, Michelle parried. ‘Oh I knew that. I guess he must have forgotten to mention your name.’
Neither woman’s smile faltered.
‘Cora?’ They both turned towards the doorway where Sean was standing. ‘What are you doing here?’
Sean’s mum bustled past her son, bustling any answer Cora might have offered away at the same time. ‘Cora! Lovely to see you. Will you have a drink?’
Cora was hidden from view for a moment as Sean’s mother, then father and niece and nephew, enveloped her in hugs and welcomes. Michelle was isolated. Sean was still hovering in the doorway, but everyone else was treating Cora like visiting royalty. However friendly they might be, Michelle reminded herself, she wasn’t part of this family. She was an outsider. They’d made her feel welcome, but it was nothing more than a feeling. Michelle knew better than to rely on those.
Cora disentangled herself from the hugs. ‘Chloe, why don’t you take a look in the hallway? There’s a bag you might be interested in.’
The twins dashed into the hallway and re-appeared dragging a bulging sack of presents. Cora waved a manicured hand. ‘Well, you can’t come visiting at Christmas empty-handed, now can you?’
Presents were pulled out of the sack and handed round. Cora sat herself down in the centre of the sofa.
The group redrew itself around her. Extravagant gifts were opened. Drinks were offered and accepted. It was the picture of the perfect Christmas scene, except in Michelle’s heart. It was true. Sean had a wife, and she wasn’t imaginary or far away or hideously disfigured and only able to eat through a straw. She was real and here and hideously beautiful and put together. Michelle wanted to run, but she was trapped in this house until at least the following morning. Even if she tried to leave now, she had no way of getting back to civilisation, unless …
‘Anyway, darling, I do need a quick word with you.’ Cora was talking to Sean who was still hanging back near the door.
He nodded and the couple walked out into the hall.
Sean led the way into the study and closed the door.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you. It’s Christmas.’ She slinked across the room towards him, smiling her perfect lipsticked smile. ‘I texted.’
‘Well, you’ve seen me.’
She pouted. ‘Why so hostile? I thought after I let you use the flat, we might be back on better terms.’
Sean took a breath. ‘We’re on fine terms. I appreciate the use of the flat, but you asked me. You said it would help you out to have someone housesitting. I could just as easily have got a hotel.’
Another pout. ‘So businesslike. You didn’t used to be so businesslike.’
That stuck in his throat. ‘And isn’t that why you left me? You wanted someone with a bit more ambition.’
She perched on the edge of the desk. ‘But then you turned out all ambitious. There was a piece about you in Scottish Life you know.’
‘I know.’
‘Apparently, you’re an eligible bachelor.’
Sean didn’t respond.
‘So why don’t we?’
‘What?’
‘You know.’ She was being coy now, but Sean knew what was coming. ‘We were always great together. We could rekindle?’
She stood up and moved right in front of him. ‘I always turned you on, didn’t I? We never had any problems in that department. And you loved me, didn’t yo
u?’
‘Yeah.’ Sean couldn’t stop the tiny nod of his head.
‘So you and me? It always worked.’
Sean was distracted for a second by a sound in the hallway. He moved past Cora to the door and looked out. There was no one there. He closed the door again and leant against the frame.
‘It didn’t always work, Cora. We got divorced.’
She stuck out her bottom lip.
Sean closed his eyes. ‘You’ve got to stop doing this. We can’t keep going back.’
‘It’s not just me.’
It was true. There were plenty of times in the past decade when he’d met up with Cora for a drink, to clear the air, just as friends, and ended up falling back into the pattern, back into her bed, but it wasn’t real. ‘I know, but it’s got to stop. Neither of us is happy. Neither of us is moving on.’
‘Is this because of that ginger girl?’
‘Not just her.’
‘I miss you.’ She was wheedling now, not accepting that she was beaten, trying to get around him.
‘Then you shouldn’t have left.’ As he said the words Sean realised that it really could be that simple. ‘But you did, a long time ago.’
Cora took a step away from him and shook out her hair. She arranged her face into a smile. ‘No need to be grumpy. I’m only messing around.’ Sean didn’t answer, allowing her to save face.
‘Best get back to the olds then.’
Sean nodded. ‘Give them my love.’
He walked her to the door and they stopped, unsure how to say goodbye. A kiss on the cheek? A hug? A shake of the hand? In the end she just left.
A few minutes earlier, Michelle had darted away from the study door as she heard Sean’s footsteps come towards her. She pressed herself against the wall, out of sight, as he glanced to see who was in the hallway, before closing the door and going back to the tête-à-tête with his wife.
Michelle breathed through the wave of nausea that hit her. They were going to get back together. She wasn’t just betrayed; she was humiliated, and it was her own fault. She’d had years to learn not to trust a man who treated life like a game. She put her hand against the wall to steady herself. Sean’s perfect wife wanted her perfect life back. There was no way Michelle could stand in the way of that. She wasn’t even the wronged party here. She wasn’t her mother. She was The Elf.
She swallowed as hard as she could, trying to force her lunch to stay where it was. There was a table at the end of the hallway. She saw a set of keys lying amongst the discarded gloves and junk mail. She grabbed them.
‘Are you off somewhere?’
Sean’s dad was standing behind her.
‘I … I’ve got a friend who lives quite near. I thought I’d pop and visit. You know, as it’s Christmas.’
‘Aye.’
‘Right.’ Michelle picked up the car keys and fled the house. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to get away. She couldn’t watch the happy couple being reunited. She jumped into the hire car and drove out of the yard. She followed roads at random, driving too fast, brain flitting in every direction and landing on one single thought. What if she was wrong?
She moved her foot to the brake to slow down. She felt the car slide beneath her. She slammed her foot hard on the brake, cursing herself at the same time. ‘Never brake into a skid,’ she heard the voice of her geriatric driving instructor in her head. Too late.
Chapter Twelve
Christmas Day, 1992
Michelle
We’re having something called fajitas. I made Auntie Barbara write it down for me. It is written f-a-j-i-t-a, but you say it fa-heeeee-ta. Auntie Barbara says it is from Mexico, which is a special type of Spain. Auntie Barbara isn’t staying for lunch. She said there was plenty of turkey for us at her house, but Mummy said that she wasn’t in the mood for all that business.
Then they went in the kitchen and talked in quiet voices but I could still hear them because Dolly wanted to play in the hallway so I had to go with her. Dolly sometimes does things like that. She is much braver than I am.
‘It’s not right for a child at Christmas.’
Mummy doesn’t answer that.
‘I mean, I understand why you’re not feeling like it this year, but come on.’
Mummy laughs. ‘I’m sure they’ll have the full spread tomorrow at her father’s.’
I’m having a different Christmas just with Daddy tomorrow. When we came back here from Auntie Barbara’s house I thought it might be so we could all see Daddy for Christmas, but Mummy says that Daddy doesn’t live here any more, and this house is just mine and hers now. Mine and hers and Dolly’s.
They’ve forgotten that they’re talking quietly now, and Mummy starts to shout at Auntie Barbara. I tell Dolly that I think we should play in the lounge. There’s a spot in between the sofa and Mummy’s sewing box where I can squeeze right in, with Dolly, and make myself small. I squash into my spot and sing Away in a Manger. Last year Mummy and me sang Christmas carols together before bed on Christmas Eve. She didn’t want to do that this year.
I’m going to make sure Mummy has a lovely Christmas. When my fajitas come, I’m going to eat them all up and make ‘Mmmm’ noises even though they’ve got yellow bits in them, and I don’t know what they are. Dolly doesn’t like yellow bits. She might leave hers on the side of the plate.
‘Are you having a nice day dear?’ Mummy asks.
‘Yeah.’
‘Good.’ She seems pleased. ‘Christmas is a bit of silliness really. It’s much nicer this way, isn’t it?’
I nod. I think that’s what she wants me to do.
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas Afternoon, 2013
Sean watched Cora stalk back to her car, and headed back into the lounge. ‘Where’s Michelle?’
Bel looked up from the Monopoly board. ‘She’s gone. She said she had friends to visit.’
What? That made no sense. Michelle didn’t know anyone around here. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she had gone.
‘When?’
Bel shrugged. ‘Ten minutes ago maybe.’
‘Did she say anything?’
A shake of the head. ‘No.’
Sean ran into the yard. The hire car, as he expected, was gone. He quickly counted back through the day. Coffee at breakfast time, even though his mum and Bel seemed to have been quaffing Buck’s Fizz from first light. One glass of wine with lunch. That was Ok. He ran back into the house.
‘Car keys!’
‘What?’ His parents, brother and sister all stared at him. ‘I need to borrow someone’s car. Any car!’
He caught the first set of keys that came flying towards him and ran outside pressing the unlock button. Luke’s Land Rover sprang into life. Thank the Lord. He’d said any car, but he was relieved not to be chasing the woman of his dreams in his mother’s bright yellow smart car. He started the engine, pulled away and immediately stopped. Which way had she gone? He silently thanked the Lord again, this time for the snow, and for the fact the Christmas Day meant there weren’t many tracks coming in and out of the yard. He could see footsteps, presumably Cora’s, going off across the field. He could see where his dad had brought the hire car back, but those tracks were already part covered in fresh snow. He turned out of the yard, following the newest tyre marks.
This was crazy. He could wait until after Christmas, get her contact details from Patrick and Jess, give her a call sometime calm and quiet. He could be sensible. He could take things slow. He didn’t have to dive straight in. Sean grinned to himself, pressed his foot to the clutch and moved up a gear.
He followed the lane from the farm for about a mile, to the crossroads. The lack of Christmas Day traffic meant that even out on the road there were only a few tyre tracks. The freshest seemed to go straight on. He followed them.
The lane rose and fell with the landscape, and then started to rise more sharply as the road climbed into the higher hills. Sean glanced at the sky. Th
e fresh snow was falling more heavily, and the snow on the ground was getting thicker as he climbed higher. Would the hire car make it through this? He shuddered to think of Michelle alone and probably lost.
He rounded a bend, and brought the Land Rover to a rapid stop. The hire car was half off the road in front of him, nose into the ditch. He threw his door open and ran. The front of the car was crumpled, but the car was empty. The driver’s side door was open. He spun around scanning the road and fields. No Michelle.
His heart pounded. Where was she? Was she hurt? Cold? Out there somewhere alone? He imagined the landscape he loved through a Michelle’s eyes. Freezing. Forbidding. Dangerous. He ran back to the four by four and opened the boot. Good old Luke. You could always spot a boy who’d been brought up on a farm. There was a waterproof jacket, along with a shovel and first aid kit. Sean pulled on the coat, and headed back to the hire car. He dragged his phone out of his pocket. No signal. He hadn’t thought there would be. No sign of Michelle in or near the car. No key in the ignition. He tried to tell himself that was a good thing. It looked like she’d got out and walked away. Steeling himself, he ran his hands over the steering wheel and driver’s seat. No obvious signs of blood.
‘Sean!’
He spun round to see Michelle standing in the lane. There was blood on her hand, but she was standing and breathing and talking. His heart rate started to slow. He ran towards her.
‘You’re Ok?’
She nodded. ‘What are you doing out here?’
‘Looking for you.’
He saw her open expression snap closed. ‘That’s not necessary. I’m …’
‘If you’re going to say “fine” then I’m going to point out the car in the ditch and the blood on your arm. You’re not fine. You need help.’
She nodded but made no attempt to move towards him.
‘I’m sorry if you don’t want my help, but I’m all that’s here, so sit down.’
He flicked the tailgate open, and gestured towards it. Michelle sat down while Sean leant into the car and dragged a first aid kit from the glove box.
