Fireside Romance Book 1: First Flames (11 page)

When we got outside, we found to both Mark’s and my delight it was gently snowing.

“A white Christmas, it couldn’t be more perfect!” Mark said, blinking rapidly.

I pulled him to one side. “Would you rather we walk home? It isn’t all that far.”

“Could we?” He blinked some more.

I turned to Mary and her parents. I thanked them for the offer of a lift home, but told them of our decision to walk. After wishing them a Merry Christmas I watched them drive off.

Turning back to Mark I pulled him into a hug. We just stood there for the longest time, the snow softly falling on us. I could only recall one other white Christmas, and to be able to share this one with Mark was wonderful.

“Ready to go home now?” I eventually asked.

Mark nodded and let go of me.

“I don’t remember them forecasting snow,” I said as we started home.

“No, me neither.”

“That all goes to prove how special it is then.”

Mark was quiet for the rest of the journey home. I didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts. I had some pretty wonderful ones going round in my own head.

“We’re home,” I said, locking the front door. “Would you like a cup of cocoa or something?”

“No, it’s okay, thanks. If you’ll just help me in the toilet and undress me, I think I’ll turn in.”

“Yes, of course.”

Mark still seemed distracted. I didn’t feel as though I ought to question him on it, so I did the things he asked.

I wasn’t quite ready for sleep myself, so I told Mark I was going to make a hot drink, and would come to bed later.

I sat in front of the telly with my cup of cocoa. There was a discussion about the role of the church in modern society. It wasn’t all that interesting, but it helped me to relax. Eventually I realised it was time I hit the sack. So I performed my ablutions and crawled beneath the sheets next to an already sleeping Mark. He was on his back, so I wasn’t able to spoon in behind him. I lay still, excited about the happiness I hoped he’d find the next day. But eventually my thoughts settled and the sound of Mark’s soft rhythmic snores gently lulled me into dreamland.

Chapter 9

I awoke bright and early on Christmas Day. Perhaps this was a throwback to my childhood, when I’d start nagging my parents about 6 am so I could go downstairs and see what Santa Claus had brought me. Mark still lay peacefully sleeping on his back. I looked down at his untroubled face: the gentle curve of his lips, the slight closing of his nostrils as he breathed in. I couldn’t fathom why anyone could so much as think about hurting this angel. I don’t know how long I stayed propped up on one elbow looking at the face of my love, framed as it was by his pillow and the duvet. Eventually his breathing changed, and he began to blink.

“Hello,” he croaked.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you.” He gave me a weak smile.

“Do you want to get up yet?”

He shrugged. “Might as well start the day.”

As we went through our now familiar morning routine, I noticed that Mark seemed a bit distracted. I wondered if he was remembering the past two Christmases which hadn’t been pleasant for him. I kept my concerns to myself, thinking the best thing would be to just be there for him if he needed to talk. Hopefully the happy events I’d planned for the day would bring him out of his melancholy.

“Would you like breakfast?” I asked when we’d gone downstairs, and I’d lit the fire.

“No, it’s okay, I’m not that hungry.”

“I plan to have Christmas dinner ready for about two o’clock, would that be okay?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, thanks.”

I decided now was as good a time as any to give Mark his gift. I went into the kitchen and pulled out the wrapped book from the back of one of the cupboards.

“I know you couldn’t get me a gift, but, because I wanted to make this year as special as I could, I got you a small something.”

“I did get you a gift.” He became animated for the first time that morning.

“Oh, how? I mean—”

“Mary helped me pick it and she wrapped it. It’s at the back of that drawer.” He pointed to a deep drawer under the video shelves. I put his gift on his knee while I went to retrieve mine.

“Wow, this is such a surprise,” I said when I’d found the wrapped package and brought it back to the sofa where Mark was sitting. “Can I open mine first?” I asked in a child-like voice.

Mark smiled. “Of course.”

It was a recording of Handel’s
Messiah
I’d been wanting for a while now, but thought it a bit extravagant to spend so much money on myself. “Oh, Mark, it’s great, how did you know I wanted this?”

“I asked Mary.”

“Yes, of course. Thanks.” I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “Now, do you want me to open yours for you?”

“Please.”

I unwrapped the book while it was still on his lap. “It’s not very exciting, I’m not much good at picking out presents.” I pulled back the paper to reveal the leather-bound volume. “I wrote something inside. I hope you like it.” I lifted the cover to reveal the inscription so Mark could see.

My dearest Mark

I hope you can forget your own personal ghost of Christmas past.

Instead let’s both think about our Christmases present and yet to come.

Simon, Christmas 1986

Mark stared at the book for the longest time. I saw his shoulders had started shaking. He was crying. What had I done wrong? Had I inadvertently made his memories of previous Christmases worse? He looked up at me and wiped his eyes on his bandages. He opened his mouth, but said nothing. He closed it again, swallowed and then began to speak.

“
Simon
, I’m sorry, but I can’t hold this in any longer.” He got up from the sofa and came and knelt down in front of me. He put his bandaged hands on top of mine. “
Simon,
please, please don’t say anything until I’ve finished. Okay?”

I nodded while my mind began to frantically search for a reason for Mark being upset. Had I gone too far? Should I not have kissed him just now? What would I do if he said he wanted to find somewhere else to live? I felt tears threatening to fall.

“I want you, no, I need you to understand what I’m about to say, I mean from the bottom of my heart. I’m not saying it out of a sense of obligation. I mean it totally.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, God, this is so difficult.” He then looked directly into my eyes. “
Simon…
I…I love you.” He buried his head in my lap and wept.

I couldn’t speak. My mind was turning cartwheels; did he say what I thought he’d said? It seemed that what I had wanted for so long had finally come to pass. He loved me, just as I loved him. Oh, joy of joys, sing hallelujah! I never thought another man, let alone one as beautiful both inside and out as Mark, would ever say those three magical words to me. I thought about the sincerity on his face and in his words. Yes, he truly meant what he’d said. I couldn’t speak, but I could move. I rubbed his shoulders and then I stroked his hair.

Eventually I found my voice. “Mark, please look at me.”

He slowly lifted his head.

“I love you, too. I’ve been too frightened to tell you. I never thought someone like me would ever, could ever, have someone as perfect or as awesome as you say they loved me.”

“Why not?” he asked through his still falling tears.

“Because, sweet Mark, I’m not attractive. I’m plain. The rare times I tried to find someone…” I shook my head, not wanting to think about all that now. “…well, let’s just say it didn’t work. I just ended up being hurt.”

“In everything that matters to me you’re beautiful. I’ve always believed it’s what’s in someone’s heart that counts. And you’ve got a good heart, a beautiful heart.”

The dam of tears finally burst; no one had ever said such kind and tender things to me before. I’d felt for a long time it was what a person was like on the inside that mattered the most. I never thought I’d find someone else who felt the same way, but this truly wonderful man kneeling in front of me did.

Mark got up from his kneeling position and sat beside me. We remained on the sofa for what seemed like hours, no one was watching the clock. We kissed, we hugged and we cried some more.

Eventually I spoke. “I’m so glad you told me. I don’t think I’d have ever had the courage to say anything. I didn’t want to spoil another Christmas for you. Imagine if you didn’t feel the same as me? You might have felt that you’d have to pretend to love me to stay here. I couldn’t put you through that.”

“You see, that’s what I meant by you being beautiful on the inside. You always put my happiness before your own. It takes a special person to do that. It’s just one of the many reasons why I love you so much.”

“Oh, Mark.” I kissed him.

“Last night, when we came out of the church, and I saw we were going to have a white Christmas, I thought it was like a sign or something. But I hesitated. I mean, I’ve not come from the best of backgrounds, and I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way about me. But, I don’t know, it was the book. The straw that broke the camel’s back if you like. I felt that maybe you might love me too. I just couldn’t go on any longer without telling you.”

“I’m so glad you did. It was killing me not being able to tell you how I felt.”

We kissed a little more, but mostly we just held each other, Mark lying between my legs, his back against my belly and chest.

Stroking Mark’s curls, I said, “I first realised I loved you when I found you lying in that hospital bed. You were asleep. I looked down at you, and it was like something had slammed into me. I just knew I had to love you. Even if you couldn’t love me back, I thought that just me loving you would be enough. I didn’t realise how painful that would be though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Silly man.” I kissed the top of his head. He had nothing to apologise for. “It’s like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. You’ll have to keep holding on to me for a while, because if you don’t I think I might float away.”

Mark turned until we were chest to chest. Putting his arms around me, he said, “I’ll hold you for as long as you need me to.”

Time passed as we held on to each other, neither of us wanting to separate.

Eventually I said, “If I don’t put the turkey on soon, we won’t be eating till Boxing Day.”

I felt Mark’s chuckle against my chest. “You asked me a while back, it seems like a lifetime ago now, if I was hungry. I am now. Do you think we could have something to eat?”

“Coming right up, angel.”

We moved to the kitchen together, neither of us wanting to break the contact. We laughed at our silliness.

“Will toast do you? It’ll take me a while to get dinner ready.”

“Toast will be great.”

So I put a couple of rounds of toast through the toaster, spreading each as soon as it popped up with butter and marmalade, feeding my man as we stood at the worktop together. We still held onto each other throughout all of this.

When we finished, I wiped his mouth with a paper towel, kissed him on the lips and said, “I can taste Seville oranges.”

“So can I.”

“When those bandages come off, will you still let me feed you sometimes?”

“Only if you’ll let me feed you, too,” Mark said.

“Deal.”

We kissed some more, the exchanges becoming increasingly passionate.

Eventually—and with reluctance—I withdrew. “Listen, love, I need to get on with dinner. Although I don’t want to let go of you, it’ll be a bit awkward if I don’t.”

“Oh,” Mark sighed dramatically. “I’m being passed over for a twelve-pound turkey.”

We both cracked up. Mark went and sat on his stool. All through the meal preparation, I couldn’t last for more than a few minutes without going back to touch or kiss him. Maybe I just needed the reassurance he was still real…still in love with me.

Because of the earlier delays, we would eat about an hour or so later than I’d planned. We found we had enough time to go into the living room and watch the Queen’s speech before eating. I can’t remember anything she said. It was probably the usual bland platitudes that had been recycled from previous years. Don’t misunderstand, I’m all for the royal family, but I could never get too worked up about the Christmas address to the nation and Commonwealth.

Soon after the national anthem finished, the meal was ready to serve.

“I’ve got another surprise for you,” I said to Mark.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” I reached up to the top shelf of the main cupboard and brought down a box of Christmas crackers.

“I love pulling crackers,” Mark said with enthusiasm. Then he looked at his bandages.

“No, I’ve worked that one out,” I told him before he could get too upset. I got down on my knees and took off his right shoe and sock.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t use your hands, so you’ll have to use your toes.” I lifted his foot slightly and fitted a cracker between his big toe and the next one. I held the other end of the cracker in my hand.

“Now pull downwards with your foot,” I said.

Amazingly it worked. I got out the plastic novelty, a set of false teeth, read the stupid and totally un-funny motto, and put the coloured paper hat on Marks head.

“You look daft,” I told him.

He laughed. “We’ll have to pull yours now, and you have to use your foot, too.”

I took off my left shoe and sock, and put another cracker on the floor between us. I slid the thin part of the cracker between our toes and pulled. I got a comb in my cracker, quite useful I thought. The motto was just as lame as Mark’s, though.

“Aren’t you going to put on the hat?” Mark asked.

“Nah, I look silly in them.”

“If I’m going to look silly, so are you.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic, so I put a hat on, too. This caused much mirth from my boyfriend.

Wow, Mark is my boyfriend,
the thought only just occurring to me.

“You know,” Mark said, “in future years, I’m going to insist we always pull our crackers this way.”