Holly's Christmas Kiss (4 page)

Michelle turned to Sean and for a second her bottom lip trembled, before she snapped her usual brisk exterior back in place. ‘Oh well, no point hanging around here.’

Sean looked momentarily confused. ‘No. I suppose not. So are you going to head home?’

Michelle nodded. ‘Not much else to do.’

She held her hand out in front of her. ‘Thank you for the hot chocolate.’

He shook her hand uncertainly. ‘No problem. You don’t want to share a cab or anything?’

‘No thank you. I’ll be fine from here.’ Because nothing had changed. This Christmas was about independence. Chance meetings and almost-kisses didn’t mean anything. She picked up her rucksack and walked briskly into the crowded departure hall.

Sean watched her leave, before collecting his own jacket and bag, and tossing the empty hot chocolate cups into the bin. Why had he waited with her anyway? He could have been well on the way to Edinburgh by now. He was behaving like the old Sean. He’d sworn off acting on impulse a long time ago.

He glanced at his watch. If he managed to find a cab, he probably had enough time to get back into London and catch the sleeper train north, if there was space, and if everyone else who was on his flight hadn’t left with the same idea hours earlier. He rubbed his eyes. At the moment it wasn’t just the best plan; it was the only plan.

He jogged across the departure hall, jumping and jostling to get past the crowds of people berating the airline staff. He resisted a smile at the sight of the woman who’d spoken to him and Michelle looking significantly less bright and festive. Partway across the room he realised that he had no idea where he was going. The whole layout of the airport was designed to stop people leaving from the departures area. Once you were through security, you were supposed to leave on a plane.

He stopped and looked around. The bright festive woman was peeling herself away from another group of disgruntled looking passengers.

‘Excuse me.’

‘Yes?’ The smile snapped back onto her face, but it wasn’t quite as glossy as it had been earlier.

Sean beamed at her. ‘Tough day?’

She fluttered her eyelids slightly in the full wattage of his smile. ‘Well, you know …’

‘Sure. Look …’ he glanced for a name badge but found none. ‘I was wondering if you could help me get out of here?’

‘Oh. Yes.’ The woman pointed towards an escalator at the far end of the hall. ‘If you go up there and follow the corridor round, they’ve opened up the doors through to Arrivals.’

Sean grinned again. ‘Thank you. Happy Christmas.’

‘Yes.’ The brightness was returning with vigour, and she shouted a festive greeting at Sean’s departing back. ‘Merry Christmas!’

Sean resumed his half-run, half-leap across the bustling hall and jogged up the escalator two steps at a time. The corridor upstairs was quieter. It didn’t seem like many people had worked out how to get out of the departure lounge yet.

Sean followed the signs to Arrivals, and came out at a junction with signposts to ‘Baggage Reclaim’ and ‘Buses and Taxis.’ He followed the Baggage Reclaim sign and saw his case circling on the nearest carousel. So that was one benefit of hanging around at the airport for an hour after your flight was cancelle
d–
no wait for your baggage. He grabbed his case and bounded towards the sliding doors to the outside world. The cold outside air hit him in a blast. He pulled his jacket tight around him and fastened the zip, but it wasn’t the cold that made him stop. It was the quiet.

He’d been visiting London most of his adult life and was a regular through Heathrow. He couldn’t remember seeing the arrivals area so quiet. It made sense. If there were no planes taking off, presumably there weren’t any landing either. And if there were no planes coming in, then Arrivals would be deserted. Hardly any cars coming and going. A few people milling around, waiting for buses. Only two taxis waiting at the rank. And what noise there was, was being deadened by the soft floating fall of the snow. In the middle of an international airport, in one of the busiest cities in the world, he had managed to stumble into a truly silent night.

Sean smiled. Despite the flight being cancelled, and his day being a huge mess, he could feel the stirrings of Christmas excitement in his gut, exactly the same as when he was a kid seeing the first decorations going up or spying the tins of biscuits and treats stowed away on top of the kitchen cupboard waiting for Christmas to officially begin. He grinned and walked towards the first of the taxis.

Michelle waited at baggage reclaim. Seriously, how long could it take for one bag to come through? It wasn’t as if they had to unload it from the aeroplane hold. So far as she could work out, the luggage had never got that far, but still she was stuck here waiting for her suitcase to re-emerge from the bowels of the airport. Slowly the baggage hall started to fill up with miserable faces. Parents alternately bickering and placating fractious children. Couples standing in strained, disappointed silence. Airline staff with clipboards looking harassed and tired. People on their phones trying to beg rooms for the night and lifts home from the airport.

That made Michelle think. At least she knew she had somewhere to stay over Christmas. Of course, Jess would be looking forward to her first Christmas with her shiny new husband, but Michelle was sure she’d be more than welcome once she explained her predicament. She started to brighten. It might even be fun. She could help with the cooking. Having another pair of hands would be useful anyway.

She walked a few feet away from the crowd and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She hit Jess’s number on her speed-dial. It rang for a few moments before she answered.

‘Hiya. Are you there already?’

Michelle had to think for a moment before she remembered where she was supposed to be.

‘Er no. Not exactly. They’ve cancelled my flight. I’m not going after all.’

‘Oh no.’ Her voice was full of concern. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Well, I was wondering if I could stay with you, just over Christmas ...’ She stopped, waiting to hear Jess’s assent.

Her friend paused. It wasn’t a long pause, but it was enough. ‘I’m sure you can. That’ll be fine.’

Jess drifted into silence. Michelle could hear Patrick talking away from the phone. His voice was light, happy, intimate. Michelle’s image of herself cooking a perfect Christmas dinner fractured in her mind. This was their time to do things like that together. Michelle would be an intruder in their blissful little bubble.

‘Actually, I might head back to Leeds.’

‘Oh. Are you sure?’ Jess sounded surprised, but not disappointed.

‘Yeah. Some people had invited me over on Boxing Day, and Christmas Day on my own might be nice.’

‘Oh. Ok.’ She didn’t try to talk her out of it, which only served to confirm that it was the right decision.

‘Yeah. Have a good Christmas.’ Michelle fought to keep the crack out of her voice.

‘You too.’

‘Ok then. Good ...’ Click. Jess hung up.

Michelle turned back towards the baggage carousel. The carousel at the far end of the hall seemed to be slowly creaking into life. This was fine. She would collect her bag, get a bus or the tube to King’s Cross station and head back to Leeds. Christmas was just one day after all, so spending it on her own would be fine. It was what she’d planned. All her books could still be read. It would be big jumpers and pots of tea, rather than bikinis and cocktails.

She made her way through the bodies lined up around the baggage carousel. Her suitcase was one of the first to come through, and she hauled it off the belt and started to fight her way back through the throng. Her eyes were stinging slightly, but she refused to allow herself to cry. Michelle Jolly did not cry.

No flight. No
one to spend Christmas with. She looked at her watch. Would it be too late for the train by the time she’d made it to King’s Cross? She added the fact that she had nowhere to stay tonight to her list of things she absolutely wasn’t going to get upset about, and tugged at her bag. Her muscles strained from the exertion after lying on the hard floor.

She paused before the double doors
that led out to the bus stops to put her scarf back on and button her coat. So much for two weeks of guaranteed sunny weather. The cold air stung her cheeks and she could feel the tears starting to well up. They weren’t proper tears, she decided, just her eyes watering from the cold.

Michelle gave herself a stern talking to in her head. She hadn’t cried when Jess moved out of their shared Leeds flat to come to London, even though Jess had been in a flood. She hadn’t cried when Mum had forbidden her from attending her half-brother’s Christmastime christening service. She hadn’t even cried at her mum’s funeral. She wasn’t going to cry because she was stuck on her own in the cold.

Bundled up in her duffle coat, and with her scarf pulled around her head, Michelle dragged her suitcase towards the bus stops. At the first shelter she stopped and read the sign. Of course, it didn’t help. She didn’t know where she was going, so she had no idea which bus to get. Had she missed the last train? Should she head to the railway station and try to sleep there and catch an early train in the morning, or should she look for a hotel? Would all the airport hotels be full with so many flights cancelled? Should she really be paying out for a night in a hotel, when she was at risk of losing so much money on her holiday already? Maybe she should have stayed put in the departures hall. At least it was warm in there.

All at once, the decisions overwhelmed her, and she felt the proper tears start to fall. Fat, salty, gulpy tears poured down her face and she cried, for the first time she could remember, in a public place. It was humiliating, and the realisation that it was humiliating, made her cry more. Michelle pulled the end of her scarf over her face, and sobbed into the wool, paying no heed to anything but the sound of her own distress.

She didn’t notice the car stopping and the door opening right in front of her until, wiping the scarf across her face, she looked up. Sean’s taxi had pulled up in the bus lane directly in front of her, and Sean was already lifting her suitcase into the boot.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Thought you could use a lift.’

Michelle opened her mouth to tell him she could manage perfectly well on her own, but stopped herself. Given that he’d found her at a bus stop, weeping like a Best Actress winner, he was probably justified in thinking she might need some assistance.

‘I don’t know where I’m going.’

As soon as she spoke the tears started up with renewed gusto.

‘Woah!’ She felt Sean’s hand on her arm. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Leeds.’

‘Right. Is there anyone you can stay with?’

Michelle shrugged, and swallowed, struggling to compose herself. ‘I’m going to head home, I think.’

She saw Sean glance at his watch. ‘Do you know what time your train’s at?’

Another wave of tears started to well up behind her eyes. Michelle shook her head and took a deep breath. Enough crying already. Of course she didn’t know what time the train was. She hadn’t been planning on going home.

Sobs finally subsiding, Michelle realised that Sean’s hand was still on her arm. Saying a silent prayer of thanks for the layers of jumper and duffle coat between his skin and hers, she pulled her arm away, and tried to adopt a more businesslike attitude. ‘A lift towards King’s Cross would be great. Thank you. I’m sure I can find a hotel if I’ve missed the last train.’

Sean stood next to the cab, holding the door. ‘After you.’

He watched her climb into the car. She sank back into the seat and closed her eyes, shutting herself off, he couldn’t help but feel, from any conversation with him.

He opened his mouth to say something and then stopped. The moment of indecision confused him. Usually people seemed to have no trouble opening up to him. And usually he had no trouble at all being charming. Sean had what his fifteen year-old nephew would call game. Maybe it was only situations requiring something more than an easy line that gave him a problem.

He turned to look out of the window, and watched the snow falling, hoping to summon the flutter of Christmas excitement back into his mind. Watching the fat flakes landing on the verges brought a smile to his lips.

‘What are you smiling at?’ Michelle interrupted his thoughts.

‘The snow.’

‘It’s wet, cold and miserable.’

‘It’s fantastic. It changes everything.’

Michelle seemed to think for a moment before answering. ‘Jess said your family has a farm. I thought farmers hated bad weather.’

Sean shrugged. ‘I’m not working today. Snow’s great when you don’t need to get anywhere.’

Michelle tsked at him. ‘But we do need to get somewhere. You need to get to Edinburgh.’

‘And you?’

‘Back to Leeds, like I said.’ There was a spark of irritation in her tone.

Sean paused. That feeling was there again in his gut. The same feeling that had made him stay at the airport with her. The same feeling that had made him stop his cab to pick her up. He told himself it was simply Christmas spirit. ‘You’re sure there isn’t anywhere closer you could stay?’