Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Carla Burgess

  ‘What is it about you, Jones?’ he murmured, half asleep.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I bent down and kissed the nape of his neck.

  ‘You make me feel all nice and relaxed.’

  ‘Maybe I should become a masseur and work in a massage parlour.’

  ‘Really?’ He made an interested noise. ‘Tell me about your clients, Jones.’

  ‘My clients? Well, there’s old Mr Turner who comes in with his bad knee, and Mrs Salter with her frozen shoulder.’

  ‘Not those kinds of clients!’ He sat up, tipping me off him, and I sat giggling on the floor. Propping himself up on his elbow, he raised an eyebrow. ‘Might you have one who likes you to dress up in school uniform?’

  ‘No, but I have one with gout.’

  He collapsed back onto the sofa, laughing. ‘You are useless! Absolutely useless.’

  ‘Thanks!’ I knelt up and planted a kiss on his lips. ‘Are you taking me to bed or what?’

  He sat up and switched off the TV. ‘Well, I don’t need asking twice.’

  ***

  The alarm went off at six. I awoke with a start, unsure of where I was or what I was meant to be doing. The room was strangely silent and I lay for a minute, blinking into the darkness, until I remembered it was Christmas Day and I was supposed to be putting the turkey in the oven. There was a knock on my door and Anthony appeared, dressed in a grey T-shirt and boxer shorts. ‘Have you seen outside?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘Have a look.’

  I went to the window and lifted the blind. Thick snow blanketed the street and more was falling fast.

  ‘Wow!’ I leaned my elbows on the windowsill and pressed my forehead to the glass. Anthony leaned beside me, his warm arm next to mine. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ I watched it settle on the rooftops opposite, on the trees, the lamppost and the cars parked in the road. A black cat stalked along the edge of the street, picking up its paws and twitching its tail in disdain.

  ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to get to work.’ Anthony scratched his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘You’ll have to stay here and have Christmas Day with us.’

  He sniffed. ‘I’ll walk to the Chester station if I have to.’ He turned to look at me, eyebrow raised. ‘So, tell me, Jones… what is it about this room you find so captivating?’ He looked around at the bags and boxes piled up around the room. ‘I go to sleep with you beside me, and when I wake up you’re in here. What’s that all about?’

  I straightened up. ‘I just think it’s wise to keep to separate rooms.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because… because…’ I had a good reason, I knew I did. I just couldn’t think of it while he was looking at me so intently with his gorgeous blue eyes. ‘Because, you’re going to move on to somewhere else soon and I don’t want to be left here, sleeping in a double bed and feeling lonely because the bed’s empty.’

  Anthony pulled a face ‘Well, that’s dumb. What are you going to do when I leave? Stay in here? Or move into the big bedroom with the double bed and fitted wardrobes.’ He nodded at the dresses hanging on the back of the door. ‘Speaking of which, why don’t you hang them in the wardrobe now. There’s plenty of space.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. No big deal.’ He put a hand on my hip and pressed himself against me. ‘Are we going to have a shower together?’

  ‘I need to put the turkey in.’

  Lowering his head, he fixed me with an intense gaze that made me melt. ‘The turkey can wait.’

  The turkey was a massive beast of a thing that I almost dropped while putting it in the oven. It only just fit in the roasting pan. It was much too big for the four of us. We’d be eating it for weeks. Anthony appeared in the kitchen in his work suit, his hair still damp from the shower and his tie loose around his neck.

  My stomach curdled as I glanced up at him. I wanted to drag him back to bed, not wave him off to work.

  ‘Do you want a bacon sandwich? Or a croissant? Or …’

  ‘No, I’ll just have my porridge.’ He got a bowl from the cupboard above his head. ‘It’s getting worse out there, you know. You might be eating that turkey on your own.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘Everyone wants a white Christmas until they realise the country grinds to a halt and they can’t get to where they want to be.’ He shook his oats into a bowl and then poured on the milk.

  ‘Oh no! What if I’m on my own all day?’ I said, suddenly panicking.

  ‘Would that be so bad? You can just watch TV and eat chocolate. That’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it’s about being with family and friends. And the baby Jesus.’

  ‘The baby Jesus is coming? When?’

  ‘Oh, shut up! You know what I mean.’

  Anthony laughed as he shut the microwave door. ‘I don’t see what’s so great about being with all your family and friends, anyway. Everyone just gets drunk and starts arguments.’

  ‘We don’t argue. And even if some families do argue, at least they’re together.’

  ‘Really?’ Anthony laughed cynically. ‘Count me out.’

  ‘I bet your family don’t argue either.’ I drew him towards me and did up his tie, blushing slightly as he looked down at me. He placed his hands on my hips and moved closer. ‘Your family are lovely.’

  ‘Mmm, not as lovely as you, though.’ He undid the tie on my dressing gown and slid his hands inside. ‘Why are you wearing underwear already? Tut, I’m disappointed in you, Jones.’

  I laughed. ‘Back off, Bascombe. You’ve had your wicked way once this morning.’

  ‘Oh, come on, it is Christmas.’ He ran his hands over my body, kissing me lightly on the mouth. My whole body was singing for him, but I pushed him firmly away.

  ‘I love how you say you don’t celebrate Christmas but then use it as an excuse to get what you want.’

  ‘You can’t blame a man for trying.’ He laughed and moved to get his porridge out of the microwave. ‘Seriously, though, this moving bed thing is extremely annoying, Jones. If I go to sleep with you, I expect you to be next to me when I wake up.’

  ‘I didn’t realise it would be such a problem for you. It’s not like you want a relationship, is it?’

  He chewed thoughtfully before pointing his spoon at me. ‘Define relationship.’

  ‘Well…’ I frowned slightly, not knowing what to say. I didn’t want to talk about serious commitment or anything like that. ‘You’re going to live in Scotland in a few weeks.’

  ‘If I get the job. It’s not a given yet.’

  ‘But it looks likely?’

  ‘Yes. But Scotland isn’t at the end of the earth, Rachel. It would still be possible to see each other if I moved up there.’

  ‘Would you want that?’

  ‘Yes. Wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’ I felt a burst of pleasure and fought to control the smile that was spreading across my face.

  ‘Well, then, stop being such a spoilsport.’ Taking his porridge with him, he walked over to the window and looked out at the falling snow. ‘It’s really bad out there now.’ His phone bleeped in his pocket and he took it out and looked at it. ‘Oh, it’s all right. John’s going to give me a lift. He’s got a four-by-four.’

  ‘Tell him no and stay here with me.’ I peered into the oven at the turkey, checking it was hot. Mum wouldn’t be impressed if she turned up to find raw turkey because I’d forgotten to put the oven on. I felt another flicker of anxiety as I wondered if my parents would make it in the snow. They should do, though. Dad drove a Land Rover so I doubted the snow would prevent him from getting here.

  ‘I can’t. I’m sorry. Too much to do.’

  ‘Erm…’ I started and then broke off, suddenly feeling nervous. He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow. ‘Is now a good time to give you your present?’

  ‘My present?’ His head sh
ot back in surprise. ‘You didn’t need to get me a present. I don’t celebrate Christmas, Rachel, you know that.’

  ‘I couldn’t not get you a present, now could I?’ I said, going to the tree and retrieving a small gold box from underneath. ‘Besides, it’s not very exciting or anything. Just a token gift really.’ It was only a pair of silver cufflinks. He didn’t need to know I’d agonised for ages over what to get him. Placing the present in front of him on the coffee table, I went to the window to watch the snow.

  ‘Thank you.’ Picking it up, he unwrapped it quickly and looked at the contents. ‘Ah! They’re perfect. Thank you. In fact, I shall wear them now.’

  ‘Good!’ I smiled over at him and he grinned back as he started to fix them in place. A car horn sounded in the street below, and I looked out to see a large four-by-four draw up outside.

  ‘It looks like your lift’s arrived,’ I said, heavily.

  ‘Okay.’ Getting up, he came and put his arms around me, kissing me softly on the lips. ‘Merry Christmas, Rachel.’ He took a small box from his pocket and pressed it into my hand before turning to leave.

  ‘You got me a present?’ I said, bewildered.

  ‘Of course I did. I’m not a complete bastard, you know. See you later.’

  I stared at the neatly wrapped box for a few minutes as Anthony’s footsteps retreated down the stairs. He shouted bye and then the door slammed. With shaking fingers, I unpicked the sticky tape and peeled off the paper to reveal a small burgundy box. Inside was a silver chain with a small glass globe containing a tiny dried pink rosebud. I smiled, ridiculously touched that he’d choose such a beautiful and thoughtful gift.

  Anthony appeared on the street below, snow already decorating the shoulders of his overcoat and hair. Opening the door of the car, he said something to the driver and laughed, before looking up at the window as if sensing being watched. His eyes fixed on mine for a moment before he smiled and raised his hand. I mouthed thank you through the window, and he blew me a kiss before climbing into the car and driving away.

  Mum and Dad arrived at midday, huffing and puffing as they removed their wellington boots, and climbed the stairs with their presents. The snow had stopped and it was now a bright, sunny day. I’d already prepped the vegetables and the flat was full of the smell of roast turkey. Mum took over immediately, while Dad sat down in front of the TV.

  ‘You look pretty,’ Dad said, giving me a kiss.

  ‘Ooh, I like your necklace,’ Mum said, zoning in on it immediately. ‘Who bought you that?’

  ‘Anthony.’

  ‘Oooh!’

  ‘Shall we phone Bobbi?’ I said. I’d been thinking about it all morning but wanted to wait until Mum was there so she could speak to her, too.

  ‘Yes, go on then.’

  Bobbi answered on the third ring.

  ‘Merry Christmas!’ I said.

  ‘Oh, hi. Merry Christmas to you, too!’ She sniffled and then sneezed. ‘Excuse me!’

  ‘Are you okay? Are you not well?’

  ‘Just a cold, that’s all. I can’t believe it’s snowing.’

  ‘I know! A white Christmas at last. Have you made a snowman?’

  ‘Tom has, but I haven’t.’ She yawned. ‘I’ve not been up long to be honest. We’ve been at the hospital all night.’

  ‘Hospital? Why?’

  ‘Mum fell down the stairs. Her tablets make her pretty drowsy and she missed her footing and fell.’

  ‘Oh no! Is she going to be all right?’

  ‘I think so. We called an ambulance because her head was cut and they’ve kept her in.’

  ‘Oh no! Your poor mum! Have they said how long she’ll be in there?’

  ‘A few days, they think.’

  ‘How’s your brother?’

  ‘All right. He doesn’t really say much.’

  ‘Are you going to visit her today?’

  ‘I don’t know how we’ll get there. I can’t believe the snow.’ Bobbi’s voice sounded dull and worried.

  ‘Well, how about I send my dad round to pick you and your brother up. You can have dinner with us, then he can take you to the hospital to see your mum. Or the other way around, if that suits you better? I’m not sure about visiting times.’

  There was a pause. ‘Are you sure? Will he mind?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ Dad was looking at me with a pained expression, but I ignored him.

  Bobbi sighed with relief. ‘Thank you, Rachel. That would be great.’

  I went with Dad to pick up Bobbi and her brother. The streets were chocolate-box pretty under their thick layer of crisp white snow and there was hardly anyone about. I looked at the Christmas trees in peoples’ front windows and imagined the scenes inside, with children opening presents and families sitting down to their Christmas dinners. Dad drew up outside Bobbi’s house and I went up her path to knock on the door. A snowman stood on the front lawn with a carrot stuck rather haphazardly into the centre of his face. Bobbi answered, already in her coat and scarf. She smiled when she saw me, but she looked pale and tired.

  ‘Hi, step in a minute, my brother’s getting his stuff together. Tom? You ready?’

  There was no answer and Bobbi sighed. ‘Sorry. He’s not very happy. He wants to stay here and go to his mate’s house next door.’

  I nodded, not sure what to say. It must be difficult for him, having to leave his home on Christmas Day and spend it with strangers. Bobbi ran upstairs to see what he was doing while I waited in the small, narrow hall. It seemed very cold in the house. Cold and dark and quiet.

  Bobbi reappeared at the top of the stairs with her brother and came running down. He looked red-eyed and miserable as he grabbed his coat and stomped outside to my dad’s car. Bobbi didn’t look much happier as she locked the front door.

  ‘Do you want to go to the hospital now or later?’ I asked brightly, climbing into the front seat and slamming the door.

  ‘Later.’ Bobbi leaned forward and touched my dad’s shoulder. ‘Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate it.’

  ‘My pleasure, Bobbi.’

  The Land Rover rumbled off, making short work of the snowy roads, and we were soon back at the flat. Bobbi’s brother whispered to her as she followed us up the steps and I heard her hiss ‘at least it’ll be warm here’.

  I wondered why they didn’t have the heating on. Had they been cut off? Or was it an issue with the radiators or boiler? Mum greeted everyone with delight as we came in through the door, embracing Bobbi and giving her a hug, then kissing Tom on the cheek. He looked embarrassed as mum wiped lipstick off his cheek with the pad of her thumb. I half expected her to give him a spit wash or something equally mortifying for the poor lad, but she let him go and he skulked off to sit on the armchair by my dad.

  ‘Dinner will be ready soon,’ Mum said. She’d laid three extra places, two for Bobbi and Tom, and one for Anthony, as though she was expecting him to appear any moment. ‘Why don’t you put the crackers out, Rachel?’

  I went to get the box from the side and laid them out next to each place setting. Dad brought out the turkey, its fat sizzling and spitting in the roasting tin. Bobbi hovered, looking around the flat in wonder.

  ‘It’s lovely up here,’ she said, unbuttoning her jacket and slipping it off. ‘Really modern.’

  ‘Haven’t you seen it before?’

  ‘Not for ages. And it’s so warm. I’ve been freezing all morning. Are you going to take your coat off, Tom?’

  Tom grunted and kept his coat on. It was wet down the back, probably from playing out this morning. Bobbi sighed and shrugged.

  ‘I noticed your house felt cold. Is there something wrong with your heating?’

  ‘The boiler’s on the blink. It’s temperamental. Most of the time it’s all right, but today it didn’t want to know. I don’t know if it was too cold for it or something.’

  ‘Is the pilot light coming on?’ Dad turned and peered at her over his
glasses.

  ‘I dunno. I just flick the switch and wait until the radiators gets hot.’

  Dad looked worried. ‘You’ll have to get that seen to. You can’t live in a house with no heating in this weather. You’ll die of hypothermia.’

  ‘I know, but I doubt anyone will be interested today.’

  ‘Well, it might not get fixed today, but it might be worth phoning your landlord about it, anyway.’

  ‘I tried to phone before but I got no answer. I don’t know if I got the right number, though. With mum in hospital I wasn’t sure what to do.’

  Dad frowned. ‘It’s all right, Bobbi. I’ll have a look when I take you back later. No need to worry about it now. Here, come and sit down and have a look if there’s anything on TV you want to watch.’

  ‘Aren’t you watching anything?’

  ‘I’ve finished now. Besides, I’ve got to carve the turkey. You all right there, young Tomato?’

  Bobbi’s brother looked up at him, unimpressed.

  Dad nodded at him. ‘Do you want something to drink? We’ve got some fizzy stuff.’

  Tom nodded.

  ‘What do you want, Bobbi? Snowball?’

  ‘Ooh, yes, please!’

  ‘I’ve got some Buck’s Fizz in the fridge,’ I said. ‘But I’ll have a snowball now, too.’

  Bobbi and Tom sat and watched the TV while Mum and I fussed about in the kitchen, getting in each other’s way. Dad poured everybody’s drinks and then opened wine for the dinner table.

  We were just sitting down to eat when we heard the front door open and close. Then footsteps on the stairs. We all looked around as the door started to open, as if it might be the Abominable Snowman or something. Anthony stepped through the door and smiled round at everyone. ‘Am I in time for dinner?’

  Happiness flooded through me and a big grin spread across my face as I gazed at him

  ‘Of course you are, my darling!’ Mum got up and gave him a big hug. ‘Merry Christmas, Anthony.’

  ‘And to you.’ Hugging her back, he looked at me over her shoulder and winked. I smiled as I took the foil off his plate of food that we’d left on the side, and placed it at his space on the table. He came over and shook my dad’s hand, then Tom’s, and kissed Bobbi on the cheek. ‘What’s that face for?’ he said to me as he sat down next to me. ‘Anyone would think you hadn’t expected me to make it back for Christmas dinner.’