One Perfect Christmas (3 page)

‘Done with all those bare-chested shots on location, then?’ I say playfully.

‘Yep. The only place you’ll see me bare-chested anytime soon is in the bedroom,’ he replies with a raised eyebrow.

‘Only in the bedroom?’ I pretend to be put out. ‘We have a very nice rug in front of a very nice log fire.’

He smiles and kisses me on my lips. ‘I like that you just said “we”.’

I giggle. ‘Actually, I brought the rug with me from my last place, so technically it’s mine. But I’m very happy to share it with you.’

‘As long as you don’t share it with anybody else,’ he warns.

His brow furrows and he looks away. There’s an immediate change in the atmosphere.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask with confusion.

‘Nothing. Just ignore me.’ He takes a sip of his drink, but doesn’t meet my eyes.

‘I can’t just ignore you. Tell me.’

He looks hesitant. ‘Did you and… Lukas… ever…’

‘No!’ I cry, horrified. The thought of making love to Joe on the same rug as I did with my husband… ‘No! The rug is new,’ I clarify. ‘I bought it when I
moved in with my housemate.’

‘Oh.’ He exhales loudly. ‘Okay.’

‘Hey.’ I take his hand and squeeze it, then try to think of something to say to change the subject, but I’m not quick enough.

‘Have you seen him recently?’ he asks.

‘I saw him about a month ago,’ I reply quietly. ‘He came back to help sort out our things.’

I couldn’t persuade Lukas to sell our house at first, so we let it out on a six-month rental. The tenants vacated the property at the beginning of November, and Lukas agreed to put it up
for sale. We received four offers in its first weekend. Newnham is a very popular area of Cambridge – properties don’t come up that often. We’re due to exchange this week and
complete the week after. The new owners want to be in in time for Christmas.

Joe’s jaw has tensed. I can see this, even under his bushy beard. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘That I’d seen him?’ I check.

‘Yes.’

‘I barely got to talk to you in Brazil. I was hardly going to ruin our conversations by bringing up Lukas.’

He lets go of my hand and takes another drink, trying to feign nonchalance. ‘Fair enough.’ But I can see straight through him.

I can’t actually believe that Joe told me that he would still want me, even if Lukas took me back. The idea of secretly slipping away from my husband for passionate trysts with Joe on the
rare occasion that he’s not filming… Even if Lukas
were
blissfully unaware of what was going on,
Joe
gets so jealous. I think we can safely say that staying married
to Lukas would never have worked, even if I’d wanted it to. Which I didn’t. I could never have done that.

But I could have if I’d wanted to…

Seven months ago

There’s a pounding on the door. I’m upstairs getting ready for bed and Lisa, my housemate, is out at the movies with her new boyfriend. It’s pouring with rain
outside – I can hear it pelting against the windows. Who would be calling at this hour? I consider ignoring it, but the pounding starts up again. I pull on my dressing gown and traipse down
the stairs. ‘Who’s there?’ I shout, not wanting to open the door to a stranger. We don’t have a peephole.

‘Open up!’

Lukas! I wrench the door open and see him standing there. Rain runs off his dark blond hair and down his chiselled face, which is tanned, even in early May. His blue eyes look desperate as he
regards me with misery.

‘Can I come in?’

At least he has the decency to ask this time.

Guilt washes through me, my unwelcome companion whenever Lukas is around. ‘Of course.’ I take a step backwards and he enters. ‘Let me get you a towel.’

He’s still standing in the hall when I return.

‘You’re soaked through!’ I exclaim, seeing the full extent of the rain’s damage. I recognise that jacket. It’s his light grey Hugo Boss one – my favourite
– but thanks to the rain it looks charcoal coloured. He’s trying to shrug it off, but the wet fabric is sticking to his shirt and making it difficult. I help him out of it and notice
that even his white shirt is transparent.

‘Oh, Lukas,’ I murmur with dismay. ‘Did you walk here?’

‘Yes.’

I look up at him, but he’s steadfastly staring at the floor.

‘Have my dressing gown.’ I take it off and hand it over. I’m only wearing my PJs underneath.

He says nothing as he puts it on the banister and starts to unbutton his shirt.

‘I’ll make you a coffee.’

I hurry out of the hallway, turning the heating back on as I pass the boiler cupboard. I wonder what he’s doing here?

Lukas is in the living room when I return with his coffee. He looks so unfamiliar. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing my fluffy white dressing gown.

‘Where are your clothes?’

He nods towards the table. I take the pile and start to lay them out on the radiators. ‘Have a seat,’ I direct him. He slumps onto the sofa. I pass him his coffee and sit in the
opposite armchair. He doesn’t speak for a while, so I have to prompt him.

‘What are you doing here?’

His blue eyes fly up to penetrate mine, and the agony I see in them is unbearable. ‘I miss you.’

I avert my gaze. ‘Lukas…’

‘Alice,’ he interrupts. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘You know why, Lukas.’ I sound resigned. We’ve been here before. Many, many times.

‘Have you seen him yet?’ he asks, a look of hope flitting across his features.

I swallow. ‘Yes.’

He visibly slumps. ‘I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t heard anything.’ I know one of his greatest fears has been the idea of reading about us in the papers. ‘Did you go to
Australia?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’

Joe has been filming on location Down Under. I couldn’t go during half term, and the distance was agonising, so I went there for the Easter holidays. I hadn’t seen him since New
Year’s Day, when we said our goodbyes at Wareham train station in Dorset. After that he had to fly home to LA and then on to the Outback and I had to return to Cambridge to sort out my
screwed-up life.

‘When did you get back?’ he asks.

‘On the weekend.’

‘What was it like?’ Lukas’s voice is pained.

‘It was… fine,’ I say carefully.

The truth is, it was difficult. More difficult than I had imagined. Of course, at first it was blissful. Making love to Joe in his trailer after months apart, feeling with absolute certainty
that I was doing the right thing in leaving a husband who loves me. But it was hard, too. Joe spent most of his days, and several of his nights, filming. Rumours had been flying around about him
and his beautiful co-star for weeks, and I hated seeing him with her. And because we were trying to keep our relationship under wraps, I had to pretend to be his personal masseuse. We joked at my
job description at first, but it started to feel wrong. Sordid, in a way.

Joe didn’t want it to be like that. He wanted to tell everyone that I was Alice – the Alice that he spoke about on live television back in December. His first love, the girl that he
could never get over. My friend Lizzy saw that interview and called the TV station. That was how we got back in touch. I had never been able to forget him, even though I had married Lukas. And when
Joe became a superstar, it was even harder to put him out of my mind, because he was everywhere. I needed to know why he never came for me all those years ago. We met in Dorset when we were both
eighteen – lost ourselves in each other,
to
each other – and then were torn apart. The next time I heard anything about him was years later when Lizzy showed me a DVD on my
wedding day. A kick-boxing documentary called
Strike
. She’d watched it the night before and recognised Joe – she’d come to visit me in Dorset for a couple of days. But this man
was called Joseph Strike – he’d changed his name and I felt like I didn’t know him, that that part of my life was over. But it wasn’t. Even after I married Lukas, I never
stopped thinking about Joe, wondering what had happened to him. Running away to a cottage in Dorset together was supposed to be about getting answers and finding closure, but even after nine and a
half years, we fell so deeply in love again that we knew we could never let each other go. Lukas found us at the cottage. He was so angry… I believed he would never forgive me. But Joe
thought otherwise. He thought Lukas would want me back, and he was scared that I’d choose an ordinary, private life with a normal man, instead of a relationship with one of the most sought
after people in the world… What sort of a life would that be? I knew it would be challenging. But once I’d found Joe again, fallen for him all over again, my decision was set in
stone.

Joe was right about one thing. Lukas did want me back. Even after everything I had done to him.

I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t believe it. He quit his job in Germany – he had moved there a couple of months ago, while I’d stayed in the UK to teach – and
got another research placement back at the University of Cambridge where he had studied and then taught. I tried to convince him not to do this, that it was futile – I wanted a divorce
– but my words had no effect.

‘You didn’t want to go to Germany, and I should never have left you… I’m sorry.’

I never thought I’d hear him say that. I wish he hadn’t. It would have been less painful if he’d hated me.

He violently opposed the idea of me moving out of our home, but he couldn’t stop me. He also violently opposed a divorce, and as he was the one who had to file for it under grounds of
infidelity (mine), my hands were tied. I knew it would take time to convince him. I was still trying.

Lukas speaks quietly. ‘Do you still love him?’

‘Yes.’ My eyes well up with tears. I hate myself for hurting him like this. I wish he could accept that it’s over between us.

‘What about his co-star?’

I know he – along with millions of others – has been glued to the tabloids for news about a romance between Joe and Michelle Bleech, the stunning Australian actress who he’s
been sharing a lot of time with on set. Of course, Lukas’s reasons for his interest are very different to the rest of the population.

‘They’re just friends.’

Even I know this sounds weak. I was riddled with jealousy when my colleague Roxy kept going on about them. But Joe insisted they were just friends. However it was only when I saw them together
first hand that I could accept it as the truth. I still couldn’t stand the sight of the woman, though. She was far too hands-on for my liking.

‘Alice…’

He gets up from the sofa and tries to approach me.

‘No. Don’t.’ I put my hand up to ward him off. He hesitates for a moment. ‘Lukas, please. Don’t do this,’ I beg. I get to my feet and step away from him.

He stands up, but ignores my protests. ‘I still love you. I will always love you.’

‘I can’t…’ I go to walk into the kitchen, but he grabs my hand, pulling me back to him. His dressing gown has fallen open, revealing his body beneath. He’s
wearing nothing but boxer shorts, and I inadvertently glance at his chest. I immediately regret it, because suddenly he
is
familiar to me. So familiar my heart clenches.

‘I know you still love me too.’

‘I don’t!’

But it’s a lie. And he knows it. I do still love him. I still remember falling in love with him, with this gorgeous, intelligent German student who was studying Physics at Trinity College.
I remember making love to him in his room, above the bookshop opposite Great Gate on Trinity Street, with the Christmas lights glowing outside our window. I remember him proposing to me at the top
of an Austrian mountain, kneeling on the purest of snow. I remember him telling me that I was his first love, his only love. He disappointed his parents – his austere, mega-wealthy German
parents – by choosing me instead of his childhood sweetheart, who was from a very good family, as I heard time and time again. To my knowledge he still hasn’t told his parents
we’ve separated. He made sacrifices for me because he loved me. And I loved him. I still love him. Just not as much as I love Joe. For me a choice
did
have to be made. So I made one.
But it appears Lukas still believes he can change my mind.

‘Enough. You’ve got to stop this.’ I shake my hand free.

‘Why haven’t you made your relationship public?’ he asks me quietly.

‘I don’t want… We don’t want… I want…’

‘You want a normal life,’ he finishes my sentence for me.

I look away from him, because he’s right, of course.

He steps forward and puts his hand on my arm. I stare up at him. ‘Alice, you know you will never get that with him. You’ll have to quit your job, you won’t be able to live in
this house, or any house without security and bodyguards. You won’t be able to go anywhere on your own, ever again. And how will your children live? Presuming you
want
children with
him
?’ I know the thought of this must hurt him very much. He had been wanting to try for a family for ages. He continues.

‘You’re stealing away every chance of a normal childhood. You’re effectively entering yourself – and your children – into a prison sentence. Is that really what you
want?’

No! No, it’s not what I want! He’s preying on my greatest fears, and I hate him for it.

I remove his hand from my arm, give him my fiercest glare and try to keep my voice steady. ‘You’re not going to change my mind.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I want a
divorce.’

He stares at me for a long moment, but I don’t waver. And then I see his eyes fill with tears before he closes them. I lose my resolve and my bottom lip starts to wobble.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. His eyes fly open and suddenly I’m in his arms, my cheek pressed against his bare chest as his arms crush me to him. I struggle to free myself,
but he holds me tightly. ‘Don’t,’ I protest, but then he’s holding my face in his hands and forcing me to look up at him. His lips are on mine before I know it, but it feels
wrong, so wrong. All I can think about is Joe. I’m frozen. I can’t kiss him back. I think it’s in that moment, when I don’t melt under his touch as I’m sure he
expected me to, that Lukas finally accepts that it’s over.