Second Chance Under the Mistletoe, page 7
‘I do?’ he said.
‘Only a tiny bit. Lucky it’s not stuck in your beard. Wait. Stop.’ She reached into her handbag and pulled out a tissue. ‘Here. Stay still.’ She stood so close he was aware of her scent, a sweet floral. She dabbed at his cheek with the tissue, then stepped back to observe him through narrowed eyes. ‘All clean now.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, bemused by her brisk, impersonal manner. He doubted she had contemplated licking the chocolate off his face—not even for a second.
‘I guess I’ll have to get used to carrying baby wipes around in my handbag again when Clem’s baby is born,’ she said.
‘So you wiped off my face like you would a grubby child?’
Her eyes widened and she smiled. ‘I guess I did.’
‘I’m grateful,’ he said, smiling back. ‘I think.’
How scrupulous they were both being to avoid touching each other. A tissue a barrier between actual skin contact. These two people who had once been so passionate they had made a baby together. Today, they walked beside each other, but as far a distance apart as they could manage, considering the crowded pavements. No accidental nudging of elbows or placing of hands on the other’s arm to make a point when chatting. Just friends. Not even friends. More distant than friends. Maybe never to be friends. Natalie had made no response to his suggestion they could salvage something from the long-ago wreck of their marriage.
Her smile widened. ‘I’m so enjoying myself, Jon.’
‘That’s nice to hear,’ he said, surprised.
‘This was an excellent idea of yours. The celebration of Christmas all around us, it’s helped me forget…well, it’s been a difficult couple of years. What with Hugo’s illness, then his death, the funeral, all of that. It was…terrible. Then Clem’s friend Tyler dying so shockingly…you know, the father of her baby.’
‘She told me.’
‘The funeral was so sad. The parents’ grief. Clem’s grief. The tragedy of losing a young man with his life still ahead of him. I was very fond of him—you get quite attached to your children’s friends.’ Her voice hitched. ‘Of course, I couldn’t help thinking of how unbearable it would be if I lost Clem.’
Jon noticed how she tightly clenched her fists by her sides. He wanted to give her a reassuring hug, but knew it would not be welcome under their unspoken no-touching arrangement. ‘And then I’ve been worried about Clem, having a baby on her own,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry you were hit with all that at once.’
‘Thank you. I like to think I’m resilient but…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Anyway, I’m not as concerned about Clem as I was when she first told me she was pregnant. She’s been managing it very well.’ She looked up at him and he could see the remembered pain cloud her eyes. ‘So much better than I did.’
‘Circumstances were very different back then.’ Had she really opened the door, even if only the merest chink, to a conversation about their past? ‘For one thing you were so much younger. And Clem has you to help her.’
‘And you,’ she said.
‘Yes. And me.’ He took a deep breath. ‘The help that you and I can give our daughter will be very different from what your parents gave you.’
Was it wise to mention, even briefly, what they had gone through as a couple? How badly her parents had treated his younger self under the guise of looking out for their daughter’s interests? Not when he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive her for giving up on them the way she had, of so readily believing the worst of him.
Her mouth twisted. ‘That’s true,’ she said. ‘Help from me for my daughter doesn’t come with strings or conditions attached.’
‘Same goes for any help from me.’ He paused. ‘Talking of your parents. Tell me, will they be there at Clem’s on Christmas Day?’
‘No. They live in Marbella now and want to have Christmas there.’
‘I see,’ he said. Thank heaven. He’d been dreading the prospect of seeing those awful people, but would have put up with them for Clem’s sake.
‘To be honest we don’t see much of them at all.’
‘That must be a relief,’ he said. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I have no reason to think kindly of them, but they’re your parents.’
‘Don’t apologise. It would be an uncomfortable Christmas with them here. They don’t, of course, approve of Clem’s situation.’
‘Aren’t they pleased at the prospect of being great-grandparents?’
‘Honestly? I doubt it. I don’t think they were ever cut out to be parents, let alone grandparents or great-grandparents. They’ve never taken much real interest in Clem so consequently she has no great attachment to them.’
‘In a way that’s sad. In another, I’m glad she hasn’t been exposed to their toxicity.’
Natalie nodded, not disagreeing with him.
‘As I said before, you’ve done a wonderful job of bringing her up,’ he said. ‘You and…and Hugo.’
He had to choke out the words, as he still believed Hugo had stolen his wife and daughter from him. But he had to acknowledge that Hugo had been a good stepfather to Clem.
‘Thank you for that.’ She paused. ‘You might like to know that my parents eventually fell out with Hugo when they realised they couldn’t manipulate him as they’d planned.’
He nodded but was saved from having to say anything as the choir of middle-aged people started to sing ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’.
‘Ooh, look,’ said Natalie, ‘they’re wearing sequinned Santa hats. I wonder where they got them from.’
Jon laughed. ‘To be honest, I’ve probably already seen enough market stalls, but I suspect that’s where we might find such a thing.’
He stood side by side with her as they listened to the joyously sung carols before Natalie suggested they move on towards the West End. ‘We can walk over Waterloo Bridge or hop on a bus.’
‘Walk,’ he said. ‘We’ll see more that way. You know, because I grew up in the north of England, a lot of London is still new to me. I first saw Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery on that same school excursion where I visited Hampton Court Palace.’
‘I’m happy to walk too,’ she said. ‘Sometimes the best part of a city isn’t the big tourist attractions but the unexpected slices of life you encounter in the back streets.’
She was right. He enjoyed the markets and the light displays, the shop windows decorated for the season. But it was the unexpected things he was enjoying the most—like an open-top red tourist bus festooned with lights and baubles and a stencil of a jolly Santa in his sleigh. And the courtyard they came upon while taking a wrong turn, decorated not with one large pine tree but myriad small ones in pots, all the same size and garlanded with silver lights and a silver star on top. There was a cute tabby cat with a big red bow around its neck sitting in a shop window that Natalie had to take a photo of. They’d followed the sounds of angelic voices to find the doors to a small, hidden church and sneaked into a back pew to listen to a choir practise for the upcoming Christmas services.
But most of all, he enjoyed being in Natalie’s company. She hadn’t really changed from that teenage girl he’d fallen instantly in love with. Now she was undoubtedly more mature, a mum who liked to carry baby wipes in her handbag, but her innate warmth and her spontaneity were still there.
His last memories of her hadn’t been as happy. He hadn’t realised how serious post-partum depression was, especially when Natalie’s mother had downplayed it as if it weren’t real. All he’d known was that nothing he did seemed to please his beautiful young wife. He never knew what mood he’d find her in, but more and more she had been anxious, tearful, irritable or downright angry. She would slap his hands away if he tried to comfort her. He, in turn, had felt overwhelmed. She hadn’t neglected the baby though. They were united in their love and care for precious little Clementine. It was just him who she’d seemed to have an issue with.
The situation living with her controlling parents had hardly been ideal. But when they’d lost their unity as a couple, it had become nothing short of intolerable. The job in Australia had seemed a good idea at the time. And, truth be told, it had felt like an escape, although he hated to admit even to himself that he’d felt a sense of relief sitting on that plane headed to Perth, Australia. In hindsight, though, it had been a very bad idea to leave his wife and daughter—especially in a household that had been so hostile to him.
But now he was with her again. At Christmas. And with his daughter back in his life. He wasn’t sure what the future with Natalie might bring. Or what he might want it to bring. But he was going to enjoy this time with her while he could.
* * *
Natalie gave herself a mental pat on the back. She was doing very well in her role of Christmas guide to Jon. And a sterling job of hiding how attracted she was to him. But she didn’t have to pretend to be enjoying his company. The two of them seemed to find a lot to chat about without straying into the dangerous territory of their shared past.
They’d seen all they wanted to see at Trafalgar Square, marvelled at the beauty of the angel lights on the elegant Georgian curves of Regent Street, and finished up at more shops and a beautiful Christmas tree at Covent Garden. Now they were headed back to Jon’s apartment, where Natalie had stashed her shopping after the visit to Borough Market.
She turned to Jon. ‘Have you seen enough of the lights?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Like you, Regent Street was my favourite.’
‘Enough market stalls?’
‘Oh yes,’ he said fervently. ‘More than enough. In fact, I don’t care if I never see another market stall again.’
‘I’m warning you there’s a Christmas fair at Hampton Court Palace where we’re going the day after tomorrow.’
‘How about I have a coffee somewhere while you look at the stalls?’
Natalie laughed. ‘Actually, I’ve seen enough too. But well done you for hunting down those sequinned Santa hats.’ She’d bought four, one for her, one for Clem, one for Jon and one for Leo.
Would Jon be with them for Christmas next year? She didn’t want to ask. Step by step—that was the only way to take this path towards their little family reunion without drama from the past spilling into it and tripping her up.
Jon shifted the bulky parcel he held under his arm. ‘Thank you for pointing me in the direction of the wreath for Clem.’
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? She and Leo have already got the Kensington house decorated for Christmas, but she told me she didn’t have a wreath for the front door. Because it’s made of dried foliage and glass baubles, it will last for next year too.’
‘So the wreath and the Santa hats will do for next year,’ he said. ‘I wonder where—?’
‘We’ll all be next year on Christmas Day?’
He nodded, his green eyes shadowed. ‘Yes.’
For a moment Natalie saw Jay Jay again. For all his good looks and magnetism and cleverness, one of the things she’d loved most about him was that he’d been kind. She didn’t want to hurt him tonight.
‘Are you worried you won’t be invited next year?’ she said.
He shrugged. ‘Clem has her own life. This year might be a one-off thing and—’
‘Your daughter is loyal. She has welcomed you back into her life. Christmas is so important to her. If you want to be with her for next Christmas or the Christmas after or the Christmas after that, I can say, hand on heart, that you’ll be welcome.’
‘And you?’
‘I’ll be there too.’ She hesitated. ‘I couldn’t not be there at Christmas for my daughter.’
‘Did you think about not being here this year because of me?’
How did he guess that? He’d always been good at reading her. Until she’d seemed to lose herself after Clem was born. ‘Well…yes… I did think of being in Sri Lanka for Christmas.’
‘Sri Lanka!’ He paused. ‘Was that really because of me?’
There was no point in lying. ‘Yes. I… I was nervous about seeing you.’
‘I had qualms about seeing you too,’ he said. ‘But you’ve made it easy for me.’
‘You too. For me, I mean.’ She didn’t know what else she could say. ‘We’ve achieved what we set out to do—ease any awkwardness before Christmas Day.’
She was aware of the undercurrent beneath their polite conversation, but she could tell he was no more eager than she was to address those wounds from the past.
‘Does that mean that, mission accomplished, you want to skip the trip to Hampton Court Palace the day after tomorrow?’ he said.
‘No,’ she said, too quickly. ‘Do you?’
‘No. I’d be disappointed if I missed out on the ice skating.’
‘Me too,’ she said.
Was she disappointed that his disappointment was about the ice skating and not about the pleasure of her company? Probably. But that made it easier in a way. Here she’d been fantasising about him all those years and was clearly still way too attracted to him now, but obviously he wasn’t interested in her as anything other than Clem’s mum. As it should be.
‘Do you want to stop for dinner?’ Jon said.
She shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I can’t. I have to get home to Freddie.’
‘Is he with your neighbour?’
‘He’s okay on his own for a day. I took him out for a long walk this morning. He’s old and sleeps a lot of the time.’
‘Why don’t I drive you home? Get you home quicker to Freddie.’
‘That’s kind but no need. It’s only an hour to home on the train, and I parked my car at the station.’
‘Sure, but the offer is there.’
‘I appreciate it.’
She was happy to go home on the train, but it wasn’t just that. She would feel awkward having Jon at the house she’d shared with Hugo for so long. She couldn’t have him drive her home and then just straight away turn around and go back to London. She would have to invite him inside for a break. And she really didn’t want to do that.
* * *
Jon liked that Natalie perched on a bar stool in his kitchen while he sorted through the booty from the shopping excursion to Borough Market that morning. For all his teasing of her, he’d actually bought more than she had.
Much as he loved it, the apartment with its two spacious bedrooms plus an office, soaring ceilings and cavernous open-plan living area was really too big for one person. It sometimes echoed when he was here on his own. Yet it certainly wasn’t a family dwelling either. If Clem brought the baby with her to visit, he would have to put some kind of gate on that open staircase. Natalie would know all about that.
‘I have an idea,’ he said. ‘How about anything either of us bought that’s destined for Clem’s place on Christmas Day stays here? That will save you lugging that stuff home on the train. I can then take it with me on Christmas Day.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ she said. ‘But yes, good idea. Make sure the Christmas-tree cookies come with me, though. They’ll be nice to serve back home when friends pop in.’
Jon wondered how many friends Natalie had in Guildford. Hugo hadn’t struck him as a particularly sociable type, and surely his friends would have been much older than Natalie. He wondered if she’d kept in touch with any friends from their uni days. He hadn’t. He slid the cellophane-wrapped package of cookies over the countertop towards her. She carefully put it in her shopping bag.
‘This is an awesome kitchen,’ she said, looking around. ‘Everything so slick and contemporary.’
‘Not that it’s used much.’ He paused as a thought struck him. ‘We never had a kitchen of our own.’
‘No. We didn’t.’
‘You lived on campus. I was in a shared house.’
‘And then my mother’s kitchen, grudgingly shared,’ she said.
That had been the impetus for him to take the job in Australia—to fund a place of their own. He still wasn’t sure how it had backfired on him so spectacularly.
He turned to put the cheeses he’d bought back in the refrigerator and had his back to her when he spoke. ‘What do you tell people about your first marriage? Why it ended?’
He slowly turned to face her, noted the stricken look on her face that she quickly tried to cover with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘I tell them we were far too young for it to ever have had a chance of lasting.’
‘I say something similar.’ He paused. ‘Do you believe that, though?’
Slowly she shook her head. There was a long beat of silence before she answered. ‘No. I don’t. I… I think my feelings back then were so strong that…that things could have worked out quite differently if…if people hadn’t interfered.’
Their gazes met for a long moment. ‘I think the same,’ he finally said.
‘But that’s not how it worked out, was it?’ She got off the stool. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ll visit your bathroom before I go.’
Jon watched her leave the room, not sure what to think about the conversation. He noticed, as he had in the restaurant when she’d taken off her coat, how fabulous she looked in that knit dress. She’d certainly kept in shape.
When she came back into the room, it was as if nothing had been said. ‘I’d best be going if I’m to be on time for my train,’ she said.
He got her coat and helped her shrug into it, being careful not to touch her. ‘Let me walk you to the station,’ he said.
‘Thank you for the gentlemanly gesture, but that won’t be necessary. Before I go, though, we’d better sort out plans for the day after tomorrow at Hampton Court.’
‘Before we look at those plans, I have suggestions for further plans.’
‘Further plans?’
‘There’s so much else nearby here to celebrate Christmas. I remember how much you liked dance. Would you like to see The Nutcracker ballet?’
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘I love The Nutcracker. Yes.’
‘And, perhaps, one of the big musicals on in the West End?’
‘Yes again. I’d love to. Hugo didn’t…didn’t care for musicals or ballet. Neither does Clem. I don’t get to go as often as I’d like to.’ She smiled. ‘Another great idea from you. But it might be difficult to get tickets.’
