Holly's Christmas Kiss (3 page)

Chapter Four

Christmas Day, 1996

Sean

Mum’s wielding her pudding ladle.

‘Who’s for seconds?’

Bel shakes her head. She never has seconds, because she’s watching her figure. I don’t know what she thinks is going to happen to it. I shake my head too. It’s twenty to three already. There isn’t time for seconds. Nobody else seems to care. The rest of the family dig in. I push my chair back from the table.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘Out for a bit.’

Dad shakes his head. ‘Not until everyone’s finished.’

It’s not fair. Now I have to sit here and I don’t get any more pudding. And old people eat so slowly. Granddad’s the worst. His teeth don’t fit properly, so he can’t really chew. I have to sit and listen to every gummy mouthful. Eventually he puts down his spoon.

‘I’m going out for a bit.’ I dash up to my room and grab the present from my drawer, and then I’m out of the house, across the yard, and through the first field at a run. I scale the gate into the second field and start to slow down. I want to get my breath back before I see her. After Christmas, we’re definitely going to tell people. Then I’ll be able to walk up to her front door like normal. I climb over the far fence, into the next field, and onto the Strachan estate.

She’s waiting at the edge of the field, arms wrapped across her body, and scarf pulled up to her ears. I stuff my hands in my pockets and drop my head.

‘All right.’

‘Hi.’ She’s got her eyes down to the floor, but she looks up at me through her lashes. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

‘Dad made me stay ‘til everyone had finished dinner. I’m probably gonna get bollocked anyway for not helping wash up.’

She wrinkles her nose, probably at the idea of having to do chores. ‘Did you tell them where you were going?’

I shake my head.

‘Cool.’

‘They wouldn’t mind. Bel’s boyfriend stays over all the time.’

‘She’s older than you.’

‘Not much.’

She shakes her head. ‘Mine’d go mental.’

‘Why?’

‘C
ause they’re stupid.’

I’m pissed off now. ‘They think I’m too rough for you.’

‘It’s stupid.’ She doesn’t deny it though.

I look across the fields to Cora’s house. It’s big and it’s modern. My
dad calls it a bloody eyesore, but that’s just because he’s not used to buildings that aren’t held together with duct tape.

Cora takes a step towards me. ‘Don’t be grumpy.’

She reaches her arms up around my neck. ‘It’s more fun this way anyhow. Sneaking about.’

She presses her body against mine. ‘It’s sexy.’

She’s got round me. She always does. I slide my arms around her waist and squeeze her bum through the layers.

She smiles. ‘So where’s my pressie?’

Chapter Five

Two Days before Christmas, 2013

Michelle found a seat, wedged between a Chinese family and a man fast asleep across two chairs and a table, at one end of the departure lounge and tried to calm her breathing. Resting her hands on her lap, she realised that she was shaking slightly. What was happening to her? She hoped that she wasn’t coming down with some sort of virus that would mean a holiday wasted tucked up in her hotel room.

A battered pair of Converse at the bottom of a pair of denim-clad legs was heading towards her. She looked up and offered a half smile. The stranger nodded a little uncertainly and carried on. She dropped her head. It wasn’t Sean. Of course, it wasn’t Sean. There were probably thousands of people in the terminal. Not all the men wearing jeans would be Sean. And she wasn’t interested if it was. Sean Munro, so far as Michelle could tell, was an immature little kid trapped in a grown-up body. She’d seen him twirling Jess around the dance floor like a maniac, and he was no better today, talking about getting cream on his nose and suggesting playing pranks in shops.

She tried to focus on her book, struggling through a couple of unengrossing chapters. She wriggled in the hard angular seat. Time crawled by. She glanced at her watch; it was half past two. Her flight would be boarding soon, and she’d be on her way. She looked up at the
departure board. The screen was full of the dreaded word: DELAYED. She scanned down the list for her flight: ‘Wait In Lounge.’ She sighed with relief. The idea of a long delay didn’t appeal one little bit.

Twenty minutes later, the display was still flashing
, ‘Wait In Lounge.’ Michelle closed the book she was hardly reading anyway. Surely, they would be boarding soon. Either way, she needed to stretch her legs. She stuffed the book into the top of her rucksack and picked up her bag. As she stood up, she was taken aback by how stiff she’d got, sitting on the hard seat for so long. She walked slowly across the lounge and turned a corner. In front of her was a full floor to ceiling window with an uninterrupted view of the runway. On a normal day this would be the ideal spot to watch the planes taking off from one of the busiest airports on the planet. Today there was no such view.

Michelle walked up to the window and placed her hand against the glass. The runway was silent. Nothing was moving apart from the snowflakes which danced and fell in front of her, creating a cover of white across the ground. She turned back towards the departure lounge, looking out for a display board.

15:10 BA345 Grand Cayman DELAYED.

It really was just her luck. Her first proper holiday in more than twelve years, and her flight was delayed. She blinked hard. No point getting downhearted about it. The only sensible thing to do was go back to her seat and wait.

She made her way, more briskly now, back across the main lounge, and saw that her earlier seat had been taken. Searching the departures hall she couldn’t see an available place to sit. She walked in between the rows of chairs, clambering over bags, pushchairs and people’s legs. There wasn’t a single seat free. Eventually she dragged her rucksack back to the window overlooking the runway, dumped it down on the floor and tried to get comfortable sitting on her bag. It was not a dream start to her dream holiday.

The time passed slowly, too slowly. Michelle shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position on the cold floor. She read for a bit, looked out of the window for a bit, closed her eyes for a bit trying to rest. As the ache in her back grew, she silently cursed her mother for forcing her into this holiday. The money would have been put to far better use invested in her ISA, or topping up her pension pot.

Outside the snow continued to fall. Michelle shifted and stretched to get a view of an information board. Her flight was still listed as DELAYED. She scanned for details of the Edinburgh flight. It wasn’t on the board. She glanced at her watch. Nearly five o’clock. Sean must be on his way already. An unfamiliar feeling crept into her tummy. Disappointment? Michelle told herself not to be so silly. She settled, as best she could, back onto the floor, trying to use her rucksack as a pillow. She gazed out of the window. A thickening white layer was covering the runway, crying out for a child in wellingtons to jump full-footed into the unspoilt snow. It was a silly thought, and it made Michelle shake her head. Jumping in snow was just the sort of frivolity that she could do without; every bit as foolish in its own way as spending your last few pounds on a present that would hardly get played with, or a turkey that would barely fit in the oven. She remembered her father bringing home a turkey on Christmas Eve and her mother complaining that it was too big, and she remembered eating turkey soup and turkey fritters long into January. At least her mother understood how to plan ahead.

‘I bought you a hot chocolate, just in case.’

The voice interrupted her thoughts, and Michelle tried, unsuccessfully to scramble to her feet. She ended up half kneeling, half squatting, eyes level with Sean’s crotch, her hair halfway out of its ponytail and sticking to her face.

‘I thought you’d gone.’ She tilted her head towards his face and decided to carry on as if this was a quite normal position for chit-chat. ‘Your flight’s not on the board.’

Sean smiled. ‘You noticed.’

‘Well, I was, I didn’t particularly …’ Michelle let her voice trail off. She’d noticed, and now he knew she’d noticed. She wished she hadn’t said anything.

Sean held out his hand and Michelle let him help her to her feet. The touch sent tingles through her body. She dropped his hand and tried to regain her composure. Sean wasn’t her type. She liked men who were put together, not ones who looked like they’d fallen into their clothes by happy accident. 

He held the hot chocolate towards her. ‘It’s got cream and marshmallows, but I suppose you can keep the lid on if you don’t want cream on your nose.’

She took the drink from him, realising that she’d arrived at the airport nearly five hours ago and not had anything to eat or drink since. She kept her gaze firmly towards the floor, or at best Sean’s shoes. Calm and under control was her new mantra. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Michelle felt herself smiling. That was probably the first bit of normal conversation they’d managed. She swallowed, raised her head and met Sean’s gaze.

He nodded towards the snowy scene outside the window. ‘My flight was cancelled.’

‘Oh no! I’m sorry.’ She put her hand out to touch his arm in sympathy, but pulled it back before her fingers made contact. There was really no need for any more touching. ‘What are you going to do?’

He shrugged. ‘Stand here. Drink my hot chocolate. Watch the snow. What about you?’

‘Well, my flight’s only delayed. I’m still going …’ Her voice trailed off as she saw Sean’s eyebrows flick up.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t think anyone’s flying out of here today.’

‘It still says delayed.’ She looked forlornly at the departures board and then back out through the window. The snow was still falling, covering the scene outside in an ever-deepening blanket of white.

He paused as if deciding what to say next. Eventually he smiled softly. ‘All right. I guess we’d better make ourselves comfortable for the wait then.’

‘We?’ Michelle could hear the horror in her own voice. Sean, however, seemed to be immune, or, at the very least, choosing to ignore it. He had put his own drink down, taken off his jacket and laid it out across the floor.

‘Madam,’ he took Michelle’s drink out of her hand and gestured toward the coat. ‘Hardly the full Walter Raleigh, but the best I can do.’

He nodded back towards the main departure lounge. ‘There’s not a seat to be had through there.’

‘But you don’t have to wait. Your flight’s cancelled. You can go home.’

‘And leave you all alone? Never.’

‘Why are you still here?’

‘There is nowhere I would rather be.’

Well that made no sense. What was the point in hanging around at an airport after your flight had been cancelled? Michelle opened her mouth to argue, but stopped herself. Bringing her a drink had been kind. She should probably try to be gracious. Very slowly, she lowered herself onto the coat and wriggled to one side, leaving space for Sean to sit beside her.

He sat himself down and picked up his hot chocolate. He pulled the plastic lid off, and took a generous gulp, allowing the cream to settle on his top lip and the tip of his nose. Turning his face towards Michelle he grinned and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘Why not?’ He looked disappointed, but wiped the cream from his nose and lip with the back of his hand.

‘Because you’re a grown-up, not an eight-year-old.’

‘No. It’s Christmas. Everyone gets to act like a kid at Christmas.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘Why not? Nothing wrong with embracing your inner eight-year-old.’

Michelle rolled her eyes. ‘Apart from that’s it’s completely unrealistic. I have a grown-up life, a grown-up flat, a grown-up job.’

‘What do you do?’

‘I’m a money adviser.’

Sean rolled his eyes. ‘Like in a bank?’

Michelle shook her head vigorously. In her line of work, banks were usually on the opposite side of the argument. ‘I’m a debt adviser. I help people who can’t cope with their debts.’

Sean laughed. ‘Figures.’

‘What?’ There was something about his tone that Michelle didn’t care for.

‘Jess said you were always trying to fix things for everyone, you know, make everything better.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Nothing.’ Sean shook his head. ‘Seriously, nothing. But wouldn’t it be nice to take a break from being sensible?’

What a preposterous idea. It was just the sort of thing Michelle fancied her father would think. She closed the door on the thought before it had chance to take hold.

‘You can’t take time off from being grown-up.’

Sean considered her answer in silence. ‘What about running away to the Caribbean for Christmas? That’s taking a break.’

‘Not from being responsible.’ Michelle’s voice raised. She twisted uncomfortably to face Sean. ‘This holiday is all about taking responsibility for myself, not needing someone else to look after me.’

Sean raised his hands in submission. ‘Sorry.’

They fell into silence. After talking about the importance of being grown-up she realised that refusing to let it go would look childish. Beaten by her own argument. She swallowed the warm creamy chocolate and let out a breath. ‘It’s Ok.’

They sat for a moment looking out at the white landscape beyond the window.

‘Excuse me madam.’ Michelle turned around and saw a young woman in airline uniform approaching them from behind, clutching a clipboard.

The woman gestured towards the airline insignia on her jacket. ‘Can I ask if you’re booked on a flight with us today?’

Michelle nodded.

‘Can I ask your name?’

‘Michelle Jolly.’

‘Oh! Very festive.’ The woman smiled the smile of a person who knows that they get to go home at the end of the day. Michelle glowered. ‘And, can I ask which flight you’re booked on?’

‘Grand Cayman.’

‘I’m terribly sorry. That flight has been cancelled today.’ The woman flicked through the pages on her clipboard to avoid eye contact.

Michelle sighed in disbelief. Obviously she could see the snowbound runway, but she’d been telling herself that somehow her flight would be different.

Next to her, Sean scrambled to his feet. ‘And is it being rescheduled?’

The woman glanced back at her clipboard. ‘And you are?’

‘Sean Munro.’

‘And are you booked on the same flight?’ Her eyes were scanning the clipboard as she spoke.

Sean shook his head. ‘I’m just a friend.’

‘All right,’ she replied, in a tone that implied that friends weren’t really all right, but would be tolerated in these unusual circumstances. ‘The flight will be rescheduled.’

Michelle’s mood brightened and she dragged herself to her feet. So she could stay in an airport hotel tonight, and fly tomorrow. Yes, her holiday would be a day shorter but it wasn’t the end of the world. The woman was still talking.

‘… so you see, with the forecast as it is, and Christmas, and our aircrews are all over the place, that’s really the best we can do.’

‘What is?’

‘The twenty-seventh. We should be all back to normal by then.’ The woman smiled brightly but without sincerity. ‘Maybe the twenty-eighth.’

Michelle was dismayed. The twenty-eighth of December. That would be five days off her holiday, and, even worse, she was stuck in the UK for Christmas.

‘But, I’ve booked a hotel and all the money …’

Her half-formed thought was met with another disengaged smile and a sheet of paper pulled from the woman’s clipboard. ‘For financial compensation, refunds and any other complaints, you’ll need to fill in this form, and return it to the address at the top. Merry Christmas!’

The woman hurried away, as if too much talk of refunds and complaints might dent her brittle cheerful shell.