by Hope Franke
Belle nudged him playfully. “I didn’t expect a present. You don’t have to lie. And please, don’t get me something just because I got you this. I work at a bookstore. It was nothing.”
“I’m not lying. I really have something on order for you.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you that. It would ruin the surprise.”
“Okay, I believe you, because I…” The words burned the tip of her tongue begging to be let go.
Ian drew a line with his thumb along her jaw, a sizzling, blood-warming line. “Because you?” he prompted.
She couldn’t hold them back. They insisted on being spoken aloud. “Love you.”
Ian’s eyes locked with hers and she held her breath. He ran his fingers along the base of her neck and her knees almost gave way.
“I love you, too, Belle. I can’t believe it, but it’s true. I love you.”
Anna
Anna woke to Angel’s wet nose nudging her cheek.
“I know, girl,” she muttered through dry lips. “You’re hungry.”
Anna forced herself to rise out of her sleepy haze, went to the bathroom and then dutifully filled Angel’s dish with food and changed her water. She scrubbed the animal’s ears. “It’s Christmas day, Angel. Merry Christmas.”
She put on the kettle and fished for a tea bag out of the box. Empty. She groaned. She meant to pick some up the day before but forgot. That was what happened when you slept the day away.
A glance out the window showed a grey sky but no precipitation. “Want to go for a walk?” The dog wagged her tail in a cheery response. “Yeah, let’s go for a walk.”
Anna didn’t bother to get dressed, just slipped on her winter jacket over her pjs and tucked the pyjama pants into her boots. They were red with white polka dots, fitting enough for the holiday.
They headed in the direction of the Asian specialty food shop. They sold the best green tea at the best prices—Anna fingered her last pound coin in her pocket—plus, they were Hindus, which meant they stayed open on Christmas day.
Anna spotted a man sitting along one of the shops that was closed for the holiday. He had brown skin, long black dreads and a large dog curled up beside him. A can for coins sat out in front by his feet.
“Nice dog,” he called out as Anna attempted to walk by.
Anna stopped. “Thanks. You too.”
The man patted the top of his dog’s head. “His name is Byron.”
“This is Angel,” Anna returned.
“Hey, Angel,” the man said. Angel tugged on her leash wanting to go to the man. Anna relented and took a step closer. Angel and Byron sniffed each other, and the man patted Angel’s head.
“Great name,” he said. “Byron is my guardian angel. Saved my life more than once. Sleeping in the streets ain’t the safest thing, y’know. He’s great for keeping a man warm in the winter, too.”
“Where are you from?” she asked. The man’s accent wasn’t local.
“Barbados. Came to London looking for a better life.” He chuckled humourlessly. “Landed on hard times recently.”
“Times are tough,” Anna admitted.
“I’m James by the way.” The man stood and offered a hand.
“Anna.” She kept her gloves on but shook his hand anyway. She noticed red cracking lines crawling across his dark skin from the cold. “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you a Londoner?” James returned to his seat on a worn, dirty piece of cardboard on the pavement.
“Lived here all my life,” she answered. “I hear Barbados is beautiful.”
“Ah, it is so,” James said with dark, dreamy eyes. “White sand, warm sunshine, ocean water as clear blue as the Queen’s crystal.”
Anna sighed. “Sounds lovely. You must be homesick.”
“Oh, so much so. My family…” James’s eyes grew glassy. “Once I have enough money saved, I’m going home.” He eyed her. “I don’t suppose you could spare some change?”
Anna wasn’t surprised by the solicitation. The empty can sat like a beacon between them.
She gripped the coin in her pocket with her fist. “Sure.” She tossed it in the jar. “Merry Christmas. I hope you can get home soon.”
“Thank you, miss, and Merry Christmas to you!”
Anna called for Angel and headed back home without her tea, yet she felt strangely warm inside despite it.
Belle
All alone on Christmas day? What was she thinking?
Belle’s eyes burned with tears and she pressed cool palms up against them. She should’ve gone to Mrs. Cowen’s again. Thinly veiled tolerance from her daughter and grandkids was better than complete isolation. She thought she could do this, thought she was stronger. A hollow pit grew in her gut.
She turned on the telly, but all the happy Christmas television families just added to her melancholy. She clicked it off and pulled her duvet over her head like a turtle in its shell, blocking out the pain and loneliness with the stale-smelling darkness.
Her heart longed for her mother. Holidays were the worst times and Christmas the very worst of the worst. The pain twisted unbearably. She snuggled deeper into the darkness in a futile attempt to escape it.
Mercifully, she fell into a dreamless slumber only to be awakened late afternoon by a tapping on her door. She threw her blanket off her face and winced as the light accosted her face. The tapping returned.
“Just a minute,” she called out. Who could it be? Surely her landlord wouldn’t choose Christmas day to deliver a complaint. And there was no way he’d be stopping by to drop off gifts. That hadn’t happened in the eight years she’d lived there, and it wasn’t bound to happen now.
Belle ran fingers through her hair, not that it helped to erase her disheveled look. She wished she’d put in a little more effort when she saw the person standing on the other side of her door.
“Ian? What are you doing here?”
He blew in with a wall of cold air and scooped her up into his arms. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
Belle flushed with embarrassment and covered her face. “I’m a mess. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Well, first off, you’re adorable. And second, didn’t you tell me you would be at the Cowen residence today?”
Belle nibbled her lip. Not much she could say to that. She was caught in a flat-out lie. “I didn’t want you to feel bad for me.”
“I thought something was up. You’re not a very good liar, you know, in case you’ve considered making a career out of it, so I asked Mrs. Cowen about you when you were busy with a customer. She told me that you said you had other plans this year.”
Belle groaned and flopped into a kitchen chair. “This is so embarrassing. I just didn’t want her, or you, to feel like you had an obligation to me. It’s just one stupid day of the year. I can manage on my own for one day.”
Ian’s eyebrow jumped. “You look like you’re managing well. Now go shower and get dressed. I’m taking you to the cinema. Something really cheesy and romantic and …” he grinned mischievously. “I expect a lot of snogging to be going on between us so don’t miss out on your toothbrush either.”
The day was suddenly brighter, and Belle hurried to do as told. There was nothing she’d rather do with the rest of her day than snuggle in a dark room and snog with Ian.
When she exited the shower, Belle was stunned to smell the savoury aroma of meat pie baking in her oven. The table had been set for two and a bowl of fruit sat in the middle. “What’s this?”
“We can’t go to the cinema on an empty stomach, can we? I can’t chance you being distracted by a growly belly.”
“I didn’t see a bag of groceries.”
“I left them on the doorstep. I wanted to surprise you.”
“You succeeded in your mission. I’m surprised.”
With a full stomach and warm heart Belle walked with Ian to the neighbourhood cinema. She grabbed onto his arm to save herself from slipping on the ice and d
idn’t let go. The sky had darkened to a moody purple and the street lamps flickered on. The only thing that could make the evening even more perfect was snow.
“Is anything even playing on Christmas day?” she asked.
Ian nodded. “Oh yeah. It’s a big money-making day for movies.”
Belle didn’t know that. She never had extra money on Christmas to spend, so she hadn’t explored the option. “What’s playing?”
Ian named a new action film with the latest British hotshot star and a romantic drama.
“Oh, hard choice,” Belle said with a tease in her voice.
“Normally, I’d see the action flick,” Ian admitted. “But, today I’m looking for something quieter.”
“You mean boring.”
He laughed. “You said it, not me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little romance,” she insisted.
Without slowing, he turned and kissed her head. “I’m counting on that.”
Belle heard the strumming of a guitar as they turned the corner, and they slowed as they approached a street singer standing in front of the train station. A dark-skinned woman dressed in a shabby jacket and mismatched hat and scarf played the instrument while wearing white fingerless gloves. Her voice was angelic and rang out boldly through the near empty streets.
Silent night, Holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin, mother and child
Holy infant, so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Silent night, Holy night
Shepherds quake, at the sight
Glories stream from heaven above
Heavenly, hosts sing Hallelujah.
Christ our Saviour is born,
Christ our Saviour is born.
Belle’s breath hitched at the beauty of the song. Her gaze landed on the grocery cart behind the woman filled with sundry items that didn’t include food and Belle knew she was homeless. She sighed as she searched her pockets for spare change but came up empty.
Ian stepped towards the woman and dropped a couple bills in her guitar case.
“Thanks, mister,” the woman said with a broad, sincere smile. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” he said.
They continued on at a relaxed pace, hand in hand. Belle felt her mouth stretch into a smile. Clearly making it to the cinema on time wasn’t a priority.
She felt something damp drop on her face and looked up. “Snow,” she whispered. You had to look under the cone of light coming from the street lamp to see how fat and fluffy the flakes were as they floated to the ground, deadening the sound around them.
“It’s a snow shower,” Belle said.
Ian dragged her under the lamp and grinned. “We must shower in it together.”
He tilted his head down, and she stood on her tiptoes reaching for his neck. The heat of his lips sizzled against her frozen ones and she took him in with a satisfied sigh. This was the best Christmas ever.
Anna
The pounding in Anna’s head competed with the pounding on the door to her flat. She pressed cold fingertips against her temples. Please, could the world just quiet down?
Whoever was knocking on the door was persistent. It could be only one person. Anna sighed and swallowed two pain-relief capsules before calling out, “I’m coming.”
She padded to the door in stocking feet and pulled her sweater tight across her diminished bosom. “Hello, Mr. Hutchens.”
“Rent’s due and it’s up fifty pounds.”
“Fifty pounds?” Anna had sold everything she owned except the sofa. Her wardrobe, table and chairs, even the television was picked up a day ago. Despite it all, she had fallen short and now with the rent increase, there was no way she could cover it.
“This is all I have.” She held out her cash and Mr. Hutchens counted it. “I need one hundred pounds more.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Then you’re out.”
“Out?”
“Yes.” Mr. Hutchens raised his voice. “Out!”
Angel growled.
Anna gulped. She’d lived in this flat for sixteen years. She’d witnessed Mr. Hutchens’ hairline recede and his waistline thicken. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“Not my concern. I’m not a bloody charity. New renters want to move their things in tomorrow morning. You better be out or I’ll get the coppers to toss you.”
Mr. Hutchens huffed down the back stairs with Anna’s money firmly in his gritty hand.
“Hey,” she called. “I want my money back.”
Mr. Hutchens scowled and shook his fist full of bills. “This is for last month.”
Anna slowly closed the door and inched back to the sofa in a daze. She collapsed and fought back tears. Angel moaned and rested her chin on her lap.
“It’s okay,” Anna said, patting the dog’s head. “The shelter will take us for a few nights and they don’t mind a well-behaved dog. I just need time to get things sorted.”
A few days to find her best friend a new home. Anna wrapped her arms around the animal’s warm, furry neck. “Love you, girl.”
With her guitar in one hand and Angel on the leash in the other, Anna took one last look at her near-empty flat before closing the door forever. Outside the sky was a dark, broody grey. Snow fell in chaotic swirls, whipped and dropped by a brisk, cold wind. Anna leaned into it, pressing her chin into the wool scarf around her neck. The shelter wasn’t far, but when she approached she groaned. The queue to get in for the night was a mile long. They only had so many beds, and once they were filled, the latecomers were sent away until the doors opened again for breakfast the next morning.
She went to the front of the queue to inquire. “Are there enough beds?”
The lady taking names took a moment to peer down the line. “Not likely.”
“What am I to do then?”
The woman sighed. “Most people find shelter from the elements under the bridge. Your dog will protect you. Get here early in the morn, and I’ll make sure you’re on the list for tomorrow night.
Anna thanked the lady and called Angel’s name. She started for the river but somehow ended up at the cemetery.
Belle
It was Ian’s last day before leaving in the morning for his final tour and Belle had wanted to take the day off. Unfortunately Mrs. Cowen insisted that she couldn’t spare her. The holidays were busy and she needed her help. At least the shop closed early.
“Belle, dear,” Mrs. Cowen said, “Can you hang this up outside for me? I’d ordered it ages ago, and it finally came. You can put the old sign in the trash and hang this one up in its place.
Belle removed the object in question from the packaging. It was a rectangular metal sign with embossed lettering painted gold that said: Find the Great Escape in Books. Somehow, despite the cold against her fingers, she managed to replace the old sign which had simply said Used Books. She did whatever Mrs. Cowen asked of her as quickly as possible. She needed to keep busy; otherwise, she’d spend the whole time watching the clock, and the seconds always crawled by when she did that. Finally the day ended, and she hurried home to get ready for Ian.
Belle’s stomach was in so much upheaval, she felt like she was going to throw up every five minutes. She’d showered and had been dressed and ready for the last half hour, pacing a hole in the floor as she waited for Ian to arrive.
She sprinted to the door and swung it open before he’d finished knocking. She ignored his shocked expression and the wrapped box in his arms, pulled him inside and attacked his face with her lips. She wanted to gobble him up, ravage him, tie him down and never let him go.
“Whoa,” Ian said, laughing. “You’re squishing my present.”
Belle thought she heard a squeak come from the box. “Is that my late Christmas present? Did it just make a noise?”
Ian swung a bag on the table. “Wine. For later. And yes to
answer both your questions.”
Belle’s eyes widened as Ian handed her the gift. It was heavy and she could feel movement. That was when she noticed two holes in the box. Air holes.
“Ian…”
“Just open it.”
Belle ripped off the wrapping paper and removed the lid. Inside was a little puppy. “He’s so cute!”
“She,” Ian corrected. “It’s a girl.”
“Oh, Ian. My landlord will never agree to let me keep her. He’s a real stickler when it comes to pets.”
“He and I had a little chat. He’s agreed to make an exception this once.”
“You paid him off?”
Ian laughed. “Yeah.” He draped an arm around her shoulders and gently petted the animal. “I didn’t want to leave you alone. I thought she could keep you company until I got back.”
Belle’s heart almost exploded. “I love you so much! It’s going to be the longest eight months of my life, but this little girl will definitely help.” She held the puppy up to her face and squealed when her little pink tongue ran a wet line across her cheek. “Good thing there are a lot of books on puppy care at the store,” she said through a broad smile, “because I really don’t have the first clue.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Ian said. He poured two glasses of wine and led Belle with her present to the couch. The puppy snuggled on her lap and fell into a deep puppy sleep.
Belle leaned into Ian and kissed his neck. “You are amazing.”
“As are you.” He tapped his glass to hers. “Here’s to the best New Year’s ever.”
Belle sipped her wine and then, careful not to disturb the precious pup on her lap, she tilted her head back and waited for Ian’s soft, warm lips.
Stay in the moment.
There were moments in Belle’s life that she wished she could freeze. Turn them into paper cutouts, fold them, put them in envelopes and tie them with ribbon and never let them go.
