One Christmas Kiss in Notting Hill

by Mandy Baggot

  The subject of Chase had been successfully avoided. Now she just had to stop their neighbour being accused of cat theft. Isla’s gaze went from Mrs Edwards and Purdy to Brooke and Maddie, who were sitting on the bench dedicated to Edith Rose Winters. Brooke looked decidedly rosy-cheeked and Maddie seemed concerned, nudging her sister’s arm and flapping her gloved hands in front of her sister’s face. Isla’s eyes then found the rather empty-looking bottle on the floor next to Brooke’s buckle-clad boots. Not making any assumption, but fearing the worst, she pushed Hannah towards the girls.

  ‘What are you doing? I thought we were on a mission to hide Purdy,’ Hannah said, hands going to her wheels as she took back control of Ronnie.

  ‘I think there’s a more urgent issue here,’ Isla said. She breezed forward to Chase’s children. ‘Hello, you two. How are you enjoying the evening?’

  ‘Hey, Isla,’ Brooke announced, slurring her words and trying to get up from the bench. She was a little wobbly and smiling like a creepy clown. ‘Cool party with even cooler food and drinks. Did you know you could put cranberries in a jar and eat them with a spoon?’

  ‘Shit,’ Hannah remarked. ‘She’s drunk.’

  ‘Yes,’ Isla responded, bending to pick up the empty bottle of what looked like homemade wine.

  ‘Is that “Sip Me Baby One More Time”?’ Hannah queried, trying to look at the label.

  ‘I fear it is,’ Isla responded. She turned to the younger girl. ‘Maddie, I want you to go over to Mrs Webley …’

  ‘She’s the one with all the hair and the orange shoes,’ Hannah added.

  ‘And go and ask her for some water. A large glass, or a bottle, whatever she has.’

  ‘Who’s drinking water?’ Brooke drawled. ‘Water sucks.’ She began looking about her person, hands raising up then slapping down on to her lap, eyes rolling, lips in a permanent grin.

  ‘I didn’t know she was drinking wine until she started singing. She never sings out loud, only in her head,’ Maddie said, bottom lip beginning to tremble as she observed her sister.

  ‘It’s okay, Maddie,’ Isla said, reaching out and rubbing the little girl’s shoulder.

  ‘Is she gonna be okay?’ Maddie asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Isla said. ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Eat these,’ Hannah said to Brooke. She passed her a packet of Kettle Chips she had reached into her day bag for. Isla didn’t remember packing those in there earlier.

  ‘What are they?’ Brooke asked, staring at the item as if it was something she had never encountered in her life before.

  ‘Crisps,’ Hannah stated.

  ‘What are crisps?’ Brooke queried.

  ‘God, Isla, she really is drunk if she doesn’t know what a crisp is. Perhaps we should get Chase and call an ambulance or something.’

  ‘Chips,’ Maddie said. ‘In America we call them chips.’

  ‘Okay, Hannah, you go with Maddie and get water from Mrs Webley and I’ll go and get your dad in a second,’ Isla said.

  ‘Can we put some other music on? All this sounds so the same and, like, really old,’ Brooke said, trying to stand up again.

  ‘Just stay sitting down for now,’ Isla said. She hurried to sit down next to her and took hold of one of the girl’s arms as Maddie and Hannah made their way across the gardens.

  ‘So,’ Isla began, trying to engage Brooke, focus her brain and body. ‘You like music a lot, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she replied, hiccupping.

  ‘Who’s your favourite singer?’

  ‘I like bands,’ Brooke continued. ‘Loud bands my mom hates and Colt wants to join.’ She laughed, then fixed a hard gaze on Isla. ‘I really, really hate Colt.’

  Isla swallowed. These two children had obviously been through one heck of an upheaval in their short lives.

  ‘I hate him for doing what he did to Mom and Dad.’ There was white-hot emotion in her voice now. ‘He made Dad sick again and I know Mom is gonna let him move in soon and we’ll be meant to play freakin’ happy families.’ Her voice raised. ‘Well I don’t wanna!’

  Isla squeezed Brooke’s arm. ‘Listen, Brooke, let’s get you some water and some coffee and later, when you’re feeling better, you can talk to your dad about it all.’ She didn’t know what to do. She had no experience in this department. And this was way outside the remit of a Go-To Girl.

  ‘Dad’s the only one who talks in our family,’ Brooke said. ‘The rest of them shout. But he closes up and pretends to us that everything is okay. But it isn’t okay.’

  ‘I—’

  ‘So I put my headphones in and I listen to bands,’ Brooke informed sadly. Then, with a sudden injection of adrenalin and a change of subject she asked, ‘Do you like Rag ’n’ Bone Man?’

  ‘I do,’ Isla responded.

  ‘You don’t know who he is, do you?’

  ‘I do know who he is,’ Isla said. ‘Hannah played “Human” to death.’

  ‘He’s cool, isn’t he? His voice speaks to you and I love how it’s old and new all at the same time,’ Brooke stated.

  ‘Do you study music at school?’ Isla asked.

  ‘Not really. Only in class and it’s all about dead composers and concertos and boring, ancient stuff no one cares about.’

  Hannah rolled up. ‘Water. And coffee is on its way. I caught Raj on his way out of the house and he’s making some at ours.’

  Isla looked up and nodded at Hannah. ‘Why don’t you take Maddie back to the house to warm up and Brooke and I will follow.’ She passed Brooke the bottle of water. ‘Drink this.’

  The teenager took the bottle with shaking hands. ‘If I drink all this can I have some more wine?’

  ‘No,’ Isla and Hannah said together.

  ‘Hey,’ Chase greeted, arriving at the bench.

  ‘Oh, Daddy!’ Maddie exclaimed, throwing herself at him. ‘Brooke’s drunk on wine that’s named after a Britney Spears song and I was so scared.’

  Isla looked to Chase and watched anxiety flood his handsome features as he comforted Maddie. She quickly stood up, putting a hand to his shoulder. ‘She’s going to be fine. We’ve got coffee being made.’

  ‘Brooke?’ Chase said, the situation not seeming to sink in very quickly.

  ‘Hey, Dad!’ Brooke responded, waving a hand from left to right with very little in the way of coordination. She pointed a finger as if admonishing him. ‘You should be working.’ Giggling, she started to sing like Rihanna. ‘Work, work, work work work …’

  Isla swallowed, looking at her boss’s concerned expression. ‘Now might be a good time to focus on the fact she’s going to be fine. We’ve all done it. We all learned our lesson—’

  ‘Yeah, Isla, that might be the British keep calm and carry on attitude, but you’re not the one with an ex-wife watching your every move and waiting for an excuse to stop access,’ Chase snapped.

  ‘I …’ Isla began. She closed her mouth again. There wasn’t anything she could say to make this situation any better.

  ‘Come on, Brooke. Let’s get you back to the hotel.’ Chase took hold of his daughter’s arm and gently pulled her from the bench.

  ‘Raj is making coffee,’ Hannah said. ‘I’m sure if she has a cup or three of that before you leave it might save on an unfortunate incident in a taxi.’

  ‘Can we get McDonald’s?’ Brooke asked, swaying hard. ‘Or English pie? I’m real hungry.’

  ‘Here,’ Hannah said, reaching back into her bag again. ‘I’ve got some sausage rolls right here.’ She passed them over to Brooke.

  ‘Cool,’ the teenager answered, cradling the snack like it was a baby.

  ‘I’ll go and tell Raj to adios the coffees,’ Hannah said, preparing to wheel away.

  ‘Well, I should really find Mrs Edwards,’ Isla said, making to leave too.

  ‘Wait, Isla,’ Chase said, catching her arm. He blew out an awkward breath, his hands going into the pockets of his leather jacket. ‘Listen, I’m sorry … again,’ Chase started. ‘I shouldn’t
have snapped at you. I just—’

  ‘You’re worried about Brooke,’ Isla said. ‘It’s okay. I get it.’

  He smiled. ‘She’s a challenge, right?’

  ‘She’s thirteen,’ Isla answered. ‘When Hannah was thirteen she drank two bottles of our grandmother’s sloe-gin and was sick in our dad’s briefcase.’

  ‘O … kay …’ Chase answered. ‘So, any tips? Or do I just put her to bed and hope for the best?’

  ‘Just hold her up,’ Isla replied, watching Brooke grabbing on to the back of the bench. ‘Support her, and tell her you love her before she goes to sleep.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he replied.

  And there were those coppery eyes holding hers captive, the faint buzz of Dean Martin coming from the speaker and the scent of pine, mulled wine and peppered meats filled Isla’s nose. There was definitely something between them, popping and fizzing like electricity, but it was just so wholly inappropriate. Wasn’t it? Isla swallowed.

  ‘So, I will see you on Monday morning,’ Chase spoke softly.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Monday.’

  He reached for her hand then, gently lifting it to his lips and dropping a kiss on the skin. At that moment her insides started to fall away like a paraglider taking that first leap from a cliff face. All the memories of their kiss the night before came hammering back to her.

  ‘Goodnight, Miss Winters,’ Chase whispered.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she answered.

  Sixty

  Breekers London, Canary Wharf

  ‘Good morning, Aaron,’ Isla greeted her colleague as she arrived at her desk on Monday morning. It had been a good weekend. She and Hannah had finally, almost, completely got their Christmas decorations nailed. There were all manner of scented candles around the fireplace – marshmallow, pumpkin, spruce – a number of reindeer ornaments Isla didn’t even remember owning and strings of garish tinsel in every room. The only thing missing was the tree, and she was determined that this afternoon the white feather one would be theirs.

  ‘Is it a good morning?’ Aaron responded. ‘Is it really?’ He lifted his head from his desk and Isla let out a gasp. His eyes had thick dark circles underneath them like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

  ‘What happened? You look terrible!’

  ‘Oh, make me feel better, why don’t you?’ Aaron exclaimed. ‘And truly, darling, this is actually all your fault.’

  ‘My fault?’ Isla queried. She put her handbag down under her desk and paid Aaron her full attention.

  ‘When you handed some of the reins of the Ridgepoint Hospital project over to me was there anything you neglected to tell me?’

  Isla was thinking that there obviously had been something she had omitted or Aaron wouldn’t be looking at her like a furious drag queen who had had his make-up stolen.

  ‘I’m not sure?’ she offered.

  ‘Hilda Stewart perhaps?’ Aaron suggested.

  ‘Oh,’ Isla said, immediately understanding.

  ‘“Oh”? Is that all you can say?’ Aaron exclaimed.

  ‘I owe you something, obviously,’ Isla began. ‘Mexican beer and … Mexican food too. We’ll put something in the diary for January.’

  ‘Hilda Stewart is a professional speaker,’ Aaron continued, almost as if Isla hadn’t said a thing.

  ‘I think you’ll find that’s someone from the House of Commons not from the NHS Trust.’

  ‘The woman does not stop,’ Aaron said. ‘Not even to draw breath. It’s like rapid machine-gun fire …’ He did all the noises, his head bobbing and jerking like he was playing a game of Battlefield 4. ‘At first I thought she was talking Dutch, then, when I realised it was English, I was convinced she was slipping in and out of a Zimbabwean accent …’

  ‘Aaron,’ Isla broke in.

  ‘Do not stop me! I need to get this all out now!’

  ‘Well, I really need to talk to you about why you told Chase about the Beaumont Square wine and cheese night,’ Isla countered.

  ‘Oh,’ Aaron replied, his bluster seeming to blow out.

  ‘Yes, so, what do you have to say about that?’

  ‘Well, I just thought it might smooth things over a little,’ Aaron said. ‘And I don’t want to see you working at Waterloo Station or selling the Big Issue.’

  ‘But you know Notting Hill is where Breekers want to build this hotel,’ Isla said, sighing. She lowered herself to her chair. She hated even saying the words.

  ‘Yes,’ Aaron answered. ‘I stuck my neck out and suggested Haringey. There’s that big parcel of land that was cleared for something else a while back and I’m pretty sure I heard the developer went bankrupt.’

  ‘Chase and I are going to look at the two other sites today.’

  ‘You’re back being the Go-To Girl then?’ Aaron asked with a grin. ‘Saddled on up again?’ He winked.

  ‘I’m not letting emotion cloud my business judgement, and secretly hoping that we can convince Breekers International that a site outside of Notting Hill would be preferable.’

  ‘Do you think that’s possible?’

  ‘Anything’s possible at this time of year, isn’t it?’ Isla asked. She breathed out. ‘It’s almost Christmas.’ Her mind was then spiked with the reminder of the social event of the year she was not in control of. ‘Aaron, actually, could you do something for me while I’m out?’ She pulled her iPad from her bag and tapped the home button.

  ‘Please do not make me speak to Hilda Stewart today. We’ve got a Skype call scheduled for tomorrow.’

  ‘No,’ Isla said. ‘Can you call the caterers about the Christmas party?’

  Aaron put his hands to his face and looked practically giddy with shock. ‘No! You’re not really going to let me be involved with the Christmas party are you?’ He breathed in like he had just been given the lead role in Hairspray. ‘All these years I’ve waited for this chance.’

  ‘Could you just call them? Ask them if they got my emails and give them my mobile number?’ Isla asked. ‘I tried them about twenty minutes ago but it’s probably a bit early for them to be open.’ That was what she was hoping anyway.

  ‘I will do that … on one condition,’ Aaron stood up and head-butted one of Ethel’s glittery pompoms.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Tell me the theme!’

  ‘Not a chance,’ Isla answered.

  Chase pushed open the door to Breekers London and stepped in out of the cold. It was snowing again after a freezing night that had left frost on cars, lampposts and letterboxes. Maddie had skipped the whole way from the Tube, delighting in every Christmas element – an organist playing ‘White Christmas’ in pan-pipe mode, flashing Christmas puddings outside a cooking store, the scent of caramel and buttered bagels … Brooke, on the other hand, was still recovering from Friday night’s alcoholic episode. Chase had looked after her, held her hair back while she barfed, gave her water and some painkillers until finally she fell asleep. Then he had called Leanna and come clean, told her about Brooke’s drinking episode and sucked up a whole lot of hysteria until his head hurt. Finally, yesterday, they had managed a civilised conversation not a blame game, and he had read the riot act to Brooke about the perils of drinking. He knew it was another attempt at seeking attention and he acknowledged that, understood how serious it was, but he just wasn’t in a position to make changes he knew were needed yet. He was caught between trying to get his professional life on an even keel for financial reasons and for his own sanity and being the father his kids deserved. He wanted that more than anything but if he took his foot off the gas …

  ‘Daddy, I’m going to look at the Christmas tree!’ Maddie announced, running off towards the tree in the lobby and greeting it like an old friend. He watched his daughter sniff at the branches and finger a small red-and-gold star adornment.

  ‘Mom’s messaged me again,’ Brooke griped. ‘She’s asking what I had for breakfast.’ She looked up from her phone screen. ‘Shall I say vodka?’

  Chase reached out and took
the phone from Brooke’s hand. ‘Are you trying to kill me right now?’

  ‘What?’ Brooke questioned. ‘She asked me what I had for breakfast, that’s all.’

  ‘Then tell her,’ Chase answered. ‘The truth, maybe? Or you might find yourself back in Montgomery early.’

  ‘Why?’ Brooke snapped. ‘Because you’re sick of me too?’

  ‘I’m not sick of you Brooke,’ Chase said, his tone a little calmer. ‘You’re my daughter and I love you—’

  ‘But? ’Cause there’s gonna be a “but” coming.’

  ‘I’m worried about you,’ Chase said.

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Your mom is worried about you too.’

  ‘She’s too busy worrying about Colt to be worrying about anyone else.’

  What did he say to that? The adult him should tell Brooke that wasn’t the case. And it wasn’t the case. Leanna had always put their children before anything else. It was their marriage she hadn’t been so committed to.

  ‘You mom loves you and Maddie so much, Brooke.’

  ‘If she really loved us she wouldn’t have made us move to Montgomery.’

  He had no answer. He knew Brooke had hated leaving New York as much as he had hated them both going. He should be ready with one of his cheery inspirational quotes right now. Change is never easy but it always provides new opportunity. He just wasn’t so sure it was what a hormonal thirteen-year-old wanted to hear.

  He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Listen, I’m out of the office for a couple hours this morning. I’ll set you up with Internet and movies and you can ask Denise to get you anything you want,’ Chase said, holding on to Brooke’s shoulders as she attempted to dodge the affection. ‘Starbucks, fast food …’

  ‘A hoverboard?’ Brooke queried.

  ‘After Friday night I really wouldn’t push it,’ Chase replied.

  Sixty-One

  Enfield

  Isla stepped down from the people carrier, her boots squelching into snow-covered mud. It seemed that this area on the outskirts of London had resisted the hard frost of the night before or had certainly been on a quick defrost this morning.

  ‘God! This is like quicksand!’ Chase remarked, his shoes almost disappearing into the brown mush.