The Christmas Wish List: The perfect cosy read to settle down with this autumn

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Hello, you two,’ said Rose, who was queuing to see the big man with her family. ‘How’s the first day of the holiday been?’

  ‘Perfect,’ said Dolly. ‘Hattie has had us baking a gingerbread house.’

  ‘From a Cherry Tree kit?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ I confirmed.

  ‘We’ve used one too,’ she smiled. ‘Brilliant, aren’t they?’

  We chatted some more and then Rose said she had better catch up with her other half.

  ‘Before you head off,’ I said, catching her arm. ‘I just want to say thank you, to both of you actually,’ I added, looking at Dolly.

  ‘Whatever for?’ Rose asked.

  ‘For press-ganging me into volunteering at the school of course. I know I was only helping for a short time.’

  ‘But it’s changed your mind about Christmas, hasn’t it?’ Rose interrupted.

  ‘Oh yes,’ I laughed, ‘very definitely. You were right about the children’s enthusiasm being infectious. I think I’ve caught a healthy enough dose of festive feeling to see me through and way beyond the season now.’ Rose punched the air. ‘But it’s more than that,’ I swallowed. ‘It’s made me think about my future too. Dolly, you know that in the past I had considered a career in education.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I did know that.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘my time at school has made me have a bit of a rethink about looking for another position in a hotel.’ The idea had been a bit of a slow burner, but once I had blurted it out to Jonathan, it had taken hold and started to grow, in spite of his mean words. ‘I’m not sure I want to teach, but I’m definitely going to think about a teaching assistant position.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news,’ said Rose, clapping her hands. ‘We’ve all said that you’re a natural with the kids and I’m sure you won’t have any problem finding work when you move. There must be plenty of schools in the UAE looking for English staff. But it’s a shame though,’ she added, sounding suddenly less excited.

  ‘What is?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘That Hattie’s moving,’ she carried on. ‘I’ve been in school today, all the teaching staff have, looking at budgets and things and Mr Matthews thinks he’s found funding for a few hours. It’s by no means going to be a full-time post, but it would have been ideal for you, Hattie. Are you sure you have to go? Have you really got your heart set on it?’

  ‘Look,’ said Dolly, waving madly and saving me from having to answer, ‘there’s Beamish.’

  He caught sight of Dolly’s windmill arms and wandered over just as Rose’s family called her back to the queue for Santa.

  ‘I better go,’ she said, pulling me into a hug and kissing my cheek, ‘you take care, OK?’

  ‘I will,’ I said, squeezing her back. ‘I promise.’

  Dolly looked at me over Rose’s shoulder and winked. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to; first a weekend job at the Cherry Tree had been mentioned and now another in the school. My mind was whirring with possibilities, but were any of them feasible options when I had nowhere to live and a belly to fill? Perhaps not, but standing in the snowy square surrounded by the fine folk of Wynbridge, I was so happy and determined to live in the moment that I felt anything was possible.

  ‘I wondered where you two had got to,’ said Beamish, after Rose had gone.

  ‘We ate in the café,’ Dolly explained, ‘and were lucky enough to get this spot to watch the parade.’

  ‘Shall we go over to the pub?’ I suggested. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

  ‘I can’t,’ said Beamish, ‘I’m meeting friends.’

  His tone was as chilly as the temperature.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘right, no problem.’

  It felt like he’d grabbed a giant pin and stuck it straight in the heart of my happy balloon. Clearly his mood hadn’t improved even though he was on his holidays.

  ‘I was hoping you’d come and see the gingerbread house this afternoon,’ Dolly said to him, oblivious of my awkwardness.

  ‘I’ve had no time,’ he said, practically turning his back on me. ‘I’ve been helping the service engineer with the boiler in school and working on a surprise for you, Dolly. It’s something to do with the Wish List.’

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling.

  ‘I told you, it’s a surprise,’ Beamish said again. At least he had a smile for Dolly. ‘And I don’t want you trying to suss it out either, so no more questions.’

  ‘When is it happening?’ I asked, trying to join in.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ he said, still looking at Dolly. ‘You’ll need to be ready at lunchtime and you’ll definitely need layers. And wellies.’

  ‘I’m sure I can manage that,’ Dolly beamed.

  ‘You can come too, Hattie, if you like.’

  I was rather taken aback that he had asked me separately. Dolly and I had done everything on the list together. I felt almost spurned, an afterthought, rather than included in whatever it was that he had come up with.

  ‘But don’t feel obliged,’ he added, shooting me a quick glance.

  ‘But on second thoughts,’ frowned Dolly, still oblivious of how Beamish was talking to me, ‘I’m not sure about the wellies.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he told her, ‘I’ll help you pull them off!’

  Dolly laughed and tapped his arm.

  ‘You really are a cheeky boy,’ she told him. ‘Is it the Winter Wonderland by any chance?’

  ‘No,’ he said, looking at me again, but still not offering me a smile, ‘it’s not.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll still be able to go together?’ I swallowed. ‘I really want to see it.’

  ‘I went last week.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, feeling even more foolish. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Right,’ he said, rubbing his hands together and for once not reassuring me that he would find a way to make it happen. ‘I better get on. The lads are waiting.’

  ‘Don’t stay out too late,’ Dolly called after him.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he called back. ‘Don’t forget, wear plenty of layers.’

  ‘How exciting,’ said Dolly linking arms once he was out of sight. ‘I wonder what on earth it could be.’

  I didn’t answer. I was more preoccupied with wondering what on earth I’d said or done to upset him.

  Chapter 23

  That night my sleep was plagued with bad dreams featuring both of the men in my life. I didn’t much mind that Jonathan was going to end up hating me, but being in Beamish’s bad books was unbearable and that had translated painfully into my nightmare. All night I was either running away from Jonathan or reaching out to Beamish, through a thick, foggy haze. The second I was within reach he took another step away, his expression switching between sad, angry and repelled.

  The following morning, I lay staring up at the ceiling long before there was even a hint of light creeping around the curtains, wondering if it was too early to call Jonathan and get the deed done. As loath as I was to look at him, I had decided that a Skype call, from Dolly’s bathroom where the signal was strongest, would be best. I needed to have eyes on him when I told him I was breaking it off. I had to be as certain as I could be of his reaction when I explained what I had decided and why.

  And as for Beamish, I was hoping the images of him, conjured in my dream state, were nothing more than a figment of my overactive imagination, rather than a true representation of how he was really feeling.

  With a heavy heart, I crept into the bathroom and quietly closed the door.

  ‘Hattie,’ smiled Jonathan as his face appeared and filled the screen on my phone. ‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, especially at this time of day.’

  ‘I’m not disturbing you, am I?’

  I knew his routine better than my own. I certainly wouldn’t have woken him. By my reckoning he would have just finished making his protein shake and would be pulling on his trainers, ready to run to the gym.

  ‘Of course not,�
� he said, resting the phone where I could see a wider view of the pristine flat that I was now able to admit I had never really felt at home in. ‘I was just getting ready to go to the gym.’

  ‘I thought you might be.’

  ‘But of course, I’d much rather be talking to you,’ he quickly added. ‘What have you been up to this week?’

  The tone of his voice and his question sounded so natural. He talked as if we were picking up a conversation we’d already started and catching up on each other’s news rather than having our first exchange since he had abused me, both mentally and physically. Everything about him, from his tone of voice, to his relaxed stance, told me that he had conveniently swept it all aside and was expecting us to carry on as if none of it had happened.

  ‘I’m guessing school must have broken up for the holidays and of course Dolly has properly retired now, hasn’t she?’ he carried on when I didn’t answer. ‘Did she have a lovely party?’

  My mouth opened and closed but no words came out. I must have looked like a goldfish. I certainly felt like a fish out of water. Even though I was feeling dog-tired I knew I would have been better able to cope with a confrontation than this mountain range of denial I now had to scale. I knew from former battles that if Jonathan didn’t want to face up to something then he would refuse point blank to acknowledge its existence.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, finally finding my voice, ‘yes, she did.’

  ‘They’re going to miss her—’

  ‘Jonathan,’ I interrupted. ‘I really haven’t called to chat.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said, his eyes flicking to the clock on the kitchen wall. ‘I’ve got time and I want to hear all about it. I’ve been so tempted to ring you this week. I’ve got so much to tell you about the move and I’ve been so desperate to hear your voice.’

  That was funny, as Dolly had pointed out and I now realised I thought he preferred the sound of his own.

  ‘But I didn’t give in,’ he said, his attention swinging back to me. ‘I did as you asked, Hattie.’

  Was that the paper he was going to use to try and cover over the cracks in our relationship? He hadn’t called me for a few days ergo all was well. If it was, I didn’t like the pattern, it didn’t match mine and I wasn’t going to settle for it.

  ‘And I do appreciate that,’ I told him, determined to keep my tone light and my hammer hidden until I was ready to deliver the final blow, and besides, I had appreciated his silence. It had given me time to think.

  Jonathan nodded. Now was my chance. He was waiting for me to say something else but the blasted words wouldn’t come.

  ‘I know you were feeling rattled after our argument,’ he said, eventually filling the silent void where my well thought through pronouncement on our relationship should have been, ‘but I hope you’ve cooled off a bit now and have had time to think about what was said.’

  I’d had plenty of time to play it all out in my head, but I wasn’t sure I was feeling any cooler about it.

  ‘I’m guessing you’ve called to apologise,’ he carried on, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. ‘And if that’s the case, then I’m happy to just forget about it.’

  In his thick head it was all catalogued just as I thought it would be.

  ‘I take it, that is why you’ve called?’ he frowned.

  ‘Tell me, Jonathan,’ I finally asked, just to be completely certain, ‘what exactly is it that you’re expecting me to apologise for?’

  His smile slipped a little and he began to chew his lip.

  ‘What is it that I’ve done that warrants an apology?’ I asked again, my voice a little stronger now.

  ‘Do you really need me to spell it out?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Well for a start, you wouldn’t cut your time in Wynbridge short, even though you know there’s so much to organise ahead of our move.’ he began. He didn’t sound quite so good-natured now. ‘I still can’t believe you went in the first place, to be honest, and then there was the flirting at the hotel and your refusal to come home with me after that. Not to mention how you flew off the handle when I suggested that you should look for a job more suited to our social standing . . .’

  I zoned out as he got into his stride. If it wasn’t some fantastical fabrication of his own making, his gripe was about a rare moment when I had stood my ground and he hadn’t got his own way. What a waste of a call this was. I should never have asked him to spell it out for me, but at least his list of my alleged crimes was the proof, not that I really needed more, that I was doing the right thing.

  ‘So,’ I said, finally raising my voice to a level capable of cutting him off, but hopefully not waking my host, ‘basically you’re expecting me to apologise for things I haven’t done but that you’ve dreamt up and for not toeing the line when you’ve told me to. Is that right?’

  Dolly had been right. Now I was off and running I was feeling much braver thanks to the physical distance between Jonathan and me.

  ‘Look,’ he said, his eyes taking on that shark-like glaze which had always warned me when trouble was looming, ‘I know things got a little out of hand at the hotel—’

  ‘A little!’ I laughed, holding up my wrist so he could see the bruises he had inflicted.

  They had spread further and were darker now and my wrist was tender to touch. It was going to take some time for them to fade both physically and mentally.

  ‘But that was because I’m under so much pressure,’ he carried on, ignoring the marks I brandished in front of him. ‘I’m putting everything I’ve got into giving us a shot at an amazing new life. Things will be completely different once we’re settled. Everything will be so much better when we’ve moved, Hattie, you’ll see. You won’t be stressed at all.’

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘I’m not stressed,’ I told him, my eyes looking straight into his, ‘and I’m not moving.’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’

  ‘I’m not being ridiculous.’

  ‘Of course, you are,’ he spat back as if ‘being ridiculous’ was my default setting. ‘You’re just upset, that’s all.’

  ‘I was upset,’ I calmly corrected him. ‘I’m not now. Now, I’m clear-headed, rational and ready to move on.’

  I didn’t think I could have made it any clearer. I had planned to present him with what Mum had said in her email, read it aloud in fact, but there didn’t seem to be any point now. My relationship with him was beyond salvaging and there was nothing to be gained from picking over the scrawny carcass.

  ‘I think I better come and get you,’ he carried on as if I hadn’t said a word. ‘You need to come home and start packing. Being with that bloody woman and fannying about over Christmas like you’re some extra in a cheesy made-for-television film has made you lose focus. I daresay, deep down, you’re just a bit jittery about leaving the country, that’s all this is.’

  Too deep down to trace as far as I was concerned.

  ‘The only thing I’m leaving, Jonathan,’ I said calmly, ‘is you.’

  ‘It’s last-minute nerves.’

  ‘It really isn’t.’

  I didn’t know how I could possibly make what I was trying to tell him any clearer.

  ‘It is, of course it is.’

  ‘Look,’ I sighed, ‘I’m going now and I’m going to give you a couple of days to get your head around this, Jonathan, and then I’ll call to make arrangements about collecting my stuff from the flat.’

  ‘You’ll change your mind,’ he carried blithely on. ‘In a day or so you’ll be begging me to forget we ever had this conversation.’

  I shook my head knowing I would never be able to match him when it came to selective memory skills and what was more, I didn’t want to. I had been a fool to be flattered by him and think I’d fallen on my feet when he showed some interest in me. I had all too readily slipped under his manipulative spell, believing that he was too good for me, when actually, it was the other way
around.

  ‘You will,’ he laughed, ‘you’ll be mortified by tomorrow and you’ll be back here with me. You’ll have to be. You’re nothing without me, Hattie and you have no one—’

  ‘Goodbye, Jonathan.’

  Shivering, I made my way down the stairs and filled the kettle. Where I had thought there would be relief and a sense of release, there was a dull ache. Not because I regretted what I had done, but because I knew that Jonathan didn’t believe that I had done it. I hoped he wouldn’t follow through on his threat to turn up and try and take me away. I wouldn’t put it past him. The man was so deep in denial he was a danger to himself as well as everyone else around him. I hoped he was going to use up the adrenalin our conversation had unleashed on the gym equipment rather than the gym staff.

  ‘Did I hear you talking to someone, Hattie?’

  ‘Morning, Dolly,’ I said, smiling up at her as she slowly made her way down the stairs.

  ‘Have we already had a visitor?’

  ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I wanted to get talking to Jonathan over and done with early and the only place where I can get a decent signal inside is in one corner of the bathroom. I hope I didn’t wake you?’

  ‘No,’ she said, lowering herself stiffly into her chair next to the fire, ‘you didn’t. How did he take it? Dare I ask?’

  ‘Much as you’d expect,’ I shrugged.

  ‘You mean he didn’t believe you?’

  ‘Got it in one. He’s convinced I’ll change my mind.’

  I didn’t tell her that he was threatening to come and get me. I didn’t want her worrying about him turning up and causing chaos. If he did arrive, I’d deal with him out of earshot of my friend who was still looking as tired as she had the night before.

  ‘His arrogance knows no bounds,’ she tutted.

  ‘Apparently not.’

  ‘I daresay he’ll be turning up here at some point,’ she said, ‘trying to get you to go back to the flat.’

  I gave her a wry smile.

  ‘Best keep the door locked for today,’ she added, ‘and if he turns up later, we won’t be here anyway.’