Holly's Christmas Kiss (10 page)

He lay her down on the rug at one side of the room. The fur caressed her back, and she watched Sean lower himself to her side. She pulled him towards her, rolling him above her, wrapping herself around his hips.

‘Wait.’ Sean’s voice was a low whisper.

Michelle’s stomach clenched. He’d changed his mind. The cold familiar feeling of steel edged back into her gut. She sat up. ‘What’s wrong?’

Sean was rooting through the pocket of his jeans. ‘What? Nothing. I …’

His voice tailed off as his fingers pulled a condom from the recesses of his wallet.

‘Oh.’ Relief bubbled from Michelle in
a little nervous laugh. ‘I thought you’d changed your mind.’

‘No.’ Sean’s answer was instant and emphatic. ‘Definitely no.’

Michelle lay back and watched him move across the room. Lean and strong, skin still tanned in the depths of winter from days and weeks working outside. He dragged a chair over to the study door and wedged it firmly closed. He grinned. ‘Just in case.’

Michelle hadn’t even thought of his family in the next room. ‘Won’t they wonder where we are?’

Sean shrugged. ‘Probably won’t even notice we’re gone.’

Eventually, he came back to her. They moved more slowly now, taking their time, daring to start to believe in what was happening. He finally sank into her with one long easy stroke. She gasped. Her body tensed, holding him deep inside her.

‘Ssshhhh,’ he murmured.

She buried her face in his shoulder, lips pressed against his skin, breathing him in and out, muffling her moans from the house beyond. He made love to her. Slowly. Deeply. Sincerely. And then faster. Deeper. More urgent. More insistent.

Wave after wave of warmth streamed through Michelle’s body as they came together, moaning and gasping against the other’s sweat salted skin. He relaxed onto her for a second and she felt the weight, the utter solidity of him, before he rolled to the side.

‘Wow.’

Michelle giggled. ‘Yeah.’

Sean propped himself up on one elbow. ‘Michelle?’

‘Yeah.’ She was still lying on her back, looking up at him now. Hopeful but uncertain. His body hadn’t lied, she thought. He’d felt something and so had she. The word for that feeling hovered on the edge of her consciousness. She wasn’t quite ready to let it in, but it was there insistently growing, ready to overwhelm her. 

Sean opened his mouth. ‘I do need to tell you about …’

A knock rattled the chair he’d wedged against the door. They both sat up. Another knock. Sean scrambled to his feet. There was a low clearing of the throat outside the door.

‘Lunchtime,’ called Sean’s dad. ‘Your mother asked me to come and find you.’

Michelle jumped up, grabbing her knickers from the desk where they’d been thrown earlier.

Sean stifled a laugh. ‘We’ll be there in a minute.’

They jostled round the room, picking up clothes, pulling them on hurriedly, without speaking. Michelle could feel her cheeks burning. What must Sean’s family think of her? Turning up for Christmas with a man she’d only met a few days ago, and then disappearing to … to … erm … to have … her brain wouldn’t allow her to think it aloud. She leant against the desk to pull her socks on, and then stood in the middle of the room smoothing down her jumper, unable to look at her … at her new … at Sean.

‘Right then.’ She started towards the door. Sean stepped behind her, grabbed her hand and spun her to face him.

‘They can wait a minute longer.’ He bent to kiss her, soft and strong and loaded with good intentions. Michelle responded, feeling her nerves settling.

Another knock.

Sean pulled away, resting his forehead onto hers. ‘Once more into the breach then Macduff.’

Christmas dinner in the Munro household was perfect in its imperfection. Gravy was spilt; siblings talked over one another; wine was spilt children bickered over the last lonely pig-in-a-blanket; Sean’s mum fretted about whether the turkey was cooked right through; her children reminded her, loudly, that she had the same panic every year and it was always, predictably, fine. Michelle was able to eat her meal quietly, squashed on one corner of the table, with Sean to one side, and the sharp tablecloth-covered drop to the children’s table on the other.

She watched the family without her usual feeling of claustrophobia and discomfort. She’d hated family events with her
dad and The Elf. She’d been shoehorned in, like they were trying to force her stiff, hard edges into a smooth, round hole. Here no one seemed to care where or how she fit; it was assumed that she would, and the family morphed and shifted around her to make space.

Listening to the chatter and eating her meal were small distractions from the thing taking up the rest of her attention. Sean. Sean, who was sitting right next to her. Sean, whose leg was brushing against her own. Sean, who was bending down to pick his dropped napkin from the floor and running his hand up her calf and thigh as he sat up again. Sean, whose mere proximity was making her senses tingle. Sean, who had finished his meal, and placed his hand, quietly, unobtrusively, hidden by the tablecloth, on her thigh where he was stroking small insistent circles, moving higher and higher.

Michelle gasped, and saw heads turn towards her. She covered quickly with a loud theatrical cough. Across the table, she could see the laughter in Bel’s eye.

‘You all right there?’

Michelle nodded. ‘I’m good.’

Chapter Eleven

Christmas Afternoon, 2013

‘Look who’s here!’

Michelle looked up from an involved game of post-lunch Monopoly to see Bel ushering a stranger into the lounge. The newcomer was about Michelle’s age, but that was their only point of similarity. This woman was radiantly beautiful, and exquisitely dressed. She pulled off her long wool coat to reveal leather boots below a fitted pencil skirt and soft silk blouse. The woman scanned the room before her gaze settled on Michelle.

‘You’re new.’

‘Michelle is a …’ Bel paused ‘… a friend of Sean’s.’

‘Friend’ sounded like a euphemism for something sordid.

The newcomer smiled. ‘How wonderful. I’m Cora.’

She stepped forward and leant to clasp Michelle’s hand before Michelle could get up, leaving Michelle awkwardly half sitting and half standing.

‘Sean and I go way back,’ the newcomer continued. ‘So many stories I could tell you about him.’

I bet there are, thought Michelle. She pulled her hand away and dragged herself to her feet. There was no mistaking the hint of fight in the stranger’s tone, although it must have been clear that Michelle was not much opposition, stylish, as she was, in leggings and a borrowed Munro family Christmas jumper. She plastered on her most dazzling smile. ‘Really? I’m not sure he’s mentioned you.’

The woman paused, and pressed home her advantage. ‘I wonder why not. You wouldn’t think getting married would slip someone’s mind, would you?’

Trying to pretend the thrust hadn’t hit a nerve, Michelle parried. ‘Oh I knew that. I guess he must have forgotten to mention your name.’

Neither woman’s smile faltered.

‘Cora?’ They both turned towards the doorway where Sean was standing. ‘What are you doing here?’

Sean’s mum bustled past her son, bustling any answer Cora might have offered away at the same time. ‘Cora! Lovely to see you. Will you have a drink?’

Cora was hidden from view for a moment as Sean’s mother, then father and niece and nephew, enveloped her in hugs and welcomes. Michelle was isolated. Sean was still hovering in the doorway, but everyone else was treating Cora like visiting royalty. However friendly they might be, Michelle reminded herself, she wasn’t part of this family. She was an outsider. They’d made her feel welcome, but it was nothing more than a feeling. Michelle knew better than to rely on those.

Cora disentangled herself from the hugs. ‘Chloe, why don’t you take a look in the hallway? There’s a bag you might be interested in.’

The twins dashed into the hallway and re-appeared dragging a bulging sack of presents. Cora waved a manicured hand. ‘Well, you can’t come visiting at Christmas empty-handed, now can you?’

Presents were pulled out of the sack and handed round. Cora sat herself down in the centre of the sofa.

The group redrew itself around her. Extravagant gifts were opened. Drinks were offered and accepted. It was the picture of the perfect Christmas scene, except in Michelle’s heart. It was true. Sean had a wife, and she wasn’t imaginary or far away or hideously disfigured and only able to eat through a straw. She was real and here and hideously beautiful and put together. Michelle wanted to run, but she was trapped in this house until at least the following morning. Even if she tried to leave now, she had no way of getting back to civilisation, unless …

‘Anyway, darling, I do need a quick word with you.’ Cora was talking to Sean who was still hanging back near the door.

He nodded and the couple walked out into the hall.

Sean led the way into the study and closed the door.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to see you. It’s Christmas.’ She slinked across the room towards him, smiling her perfect lipsticked smile. ‘I texted.’

‘Well, you’ve seen me.’

She pouted. ‘Why so hostile? I thought after I let you use the flat, we might be back on better terms.’

Sean took a breath. ‘We’re on fine terms. I appreciate the use of the flat, but you asked me. You said it would help you out to have someone housesitting. I could just as easily have got a hotel.’

Another pout. ‘So businesslike. You didn’t used to be so businesslike.’

That stuck in his throat. ‘And isn’t that why you left me? You wanted someone with a bit more ambition.’

She perched on the edge of the desk. ‘But then you turned out all ambitious. There was a piece about you in Scottish Life you know.’

‘I know.’

‘Apparently, you’re an eligible bachelor.’

Sean didn’t respond.

‘So why don’t we?’

‘What?’

‘You know.’ She was being coy now, but Sean knew what was coming. ‘We were always great together. We could rekindle?’

She stood up and moved right in front of him. ‘I always turned you on, didn’t I? We never had any problems in that department. And you loved me, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ Sean couldn’t stop the tiny nod of his head.

‘So you and me? It always worked.’

Sean was distracted for a second by a sound in the hallway. He moved past Cora to the door and looked out. There was no one there. He closed the door again and leant against the frame.

‘It didn’t always work
, Cora. We got divorced.’

She stuck out her bottom lip.

Sean closed his eyes. ‘You’ve got to stop doing this. We can’t keep going back.’

‘It’s not just me.’

It was true. There were plenty of times in the past decade when he’d met up with Cora for a drink, to clear the air, just as friends, and ended up falling back into the pattern, back into her bed, but it wasn’t real. ‘I know, but it’s got to stop. Neither of us is happy. Neither of us is moving on.’

‘Is this because of that ginger girl?’

‘Not just her.’

‘I miss you.’ She was wheedling now, not accepting that she was beaten, trying to get around him.

‘Then you shouldn’t have left.’ As he said the words Sean realised that it really could be that simple. ‘But you did, a long time ago.’

Cora took a step away from him and shook out her hair. She arranged her face into a smile. ‘No need to be grumpy. I’m only messing around.’ Sean didn’t answer, allowing her to save face.

‘Best get back to the olds then.’

Sean nodded. ‘Give them my love.’

He walked her to the door and they stopped, unsure how to say goodbye. A kiss on the cheek? A hug? A shake of the hand? In the end she just left.

A few minutes earlier, Michelle had darted away from the study door as she heard Sean’s footsteps come towards her. She pressed herself against the wall, out of sight, as he glanced to see who was in the hallway, before closing the door and going back to the tête-à-tête with his wife.

Michelle breathed through the wave of nausea that hit her. They were going to get back together. She wasn’t just betrayed; she was humiliated, and it was her own fault. She’d had years to learn not to trust a man who treated life like a game. She put her hand against the wall to steady herself. Sean’s perfect wife wanted her perfect life back. There was no way Michelle could stand in the way of that. She wasn’t even the wronged party here. She wasn’t her mother. She was
The Elf.

She swallowed as hard as she could, trying to force her lunch to stay where it was. There was a table at the end of the hallway. She saw a set of keys lying amongst the discarded gloves and junk mail. She grabbed them.

‘Are you off somewhere?’

Sean’s dad was standing behind her.

‘I … I’ve got a friend who lives quite near. I thought I’d pop and visit. You know, as it’s Christmas.’

‘Aye.’

‘Right.’ Michelle picked up the car keys and fled the house. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to get away. She couldn’t watch the happy couple being reunited. She jumped into the hire car and drove out of the yard. She followed roads at random, driving too fast, brain flitting in every direction and landing on one single thought. What if she was wrong?

She moved her foot to the brake to slow down. She felt the car slide beneath her. She slammed her foot hard on the brake, cursing herself at the same time. ‘Never brake into a skid,’ she heard the voice of her geriatric driving instructor in her head. Too late.