The room started to spin, and Jane tried to hold onto the kitchen bench for balance. When she regained her equilibrium, Georgia was staring at her with concern. Her red dress clung in all the right places. How dare she come into her house over thirty years later looking this sexy? But then, this was Georgia.
“You okay?” Georgia reached out and touched her arm.
Jane shook it off with a frown. “Don’t,” she snapped. “Just don’t.”
“And the answer to your question is yes.” Georgia popped the cork, tilted a glass, and began pouring champagne. She chewed at her lip. “And before you say anything, I didn’t know she was your daughter. How could I possibly know? I met her in a bar a month ago.”
Jane pressed her palm against her forehead and shook her head in disbelief.
“But now that I know, it makes sense,” Georgia added. “She looks like you. And she’s beautiful inside and out, just like you.” Georgia handed Jane her glass of fizz and held up her own. “Happy Christmas, Janey, even if it is thirty years late.” She emptied the glass of champagne. “Your daughter.” She shook her head. “It explains a lot, though.”
Jane drained her glass too, then slammed it down on the countertop. Given how delicate the flutes were, it was amazing that it didn’t smash.
“You have to leave. You have to leave now. This is…this is crazy. I bought you a gift.”
“Did you really?” Georgia raised an eyebrow. “That’s more than you ever did before.”
“We weren’t really on gift-giving terms that Christmas, were we?”
“Everything alright in there?” Milly called from the lounge.
“Yes!” they both chorused back quickly and loudly, before locking eyes. Gazing. Staring. For too long.
Georgia exhaled a long breath. “I… This is…too bloody strange.”
“She’s twenty-three, you know. You’re fifty-four, or had that bit slipped your notice?” Jane’s poise had all but evaporated, the remnants exploding silently around the kitchen.
Georgia sighed. “I’m aware of the age difference almost every day. I didn’t just wake up one morning thinking, ‘I know, I’ll go snag myself a twenty-three-year-old.’ It just happened.”
Jane snorted with disbelief, making a face as she cracked her ankle against a cupboard door. “You know you’re too old to use that line, don’t you?” To take her mind off the pain in her ankle, she poured herself another glass of champagne and drank it swiftly.
They stared at each other, the silence between them broken only by the sound of the turkey spitting and the potatoes roasting. Jane swore she could even hear the bubbles fizzing in her glass.
“Oh my god,” Georgia said, her hand flying to her mouth. “Does this mean that Paul’s…” Her eyes widened.
Jane nodded. “She told you?”
“About her dad, yeah, but I never put two and two together.” Georgia poured another glass of champagne, downed it, and then drew herself up to her full height, sighing loudly. “I’m so sorry. He was a great guy. I always thought that, despite everything…”
Jane bit her lip and nodded. Before she knew it, Georgia’s arms were around her, enveloping her, soothing her. It felt safe and comforting to be held, despite the fact she knew Rudolph’s fluffy nose was burrowing into Georgia. Jane could feel Georgia’s heart thumping.
The doorbell broke their connection. Jane pulled away, went to the sink and ran the cold tap. She needed a glass of water; the champagne had muddled her thinking. As the water hit the stainless steel sink, the timer on the oven sounded.
“Fuck,” Jane muttered. Everything was happening at once, too quickly. She cleared her throat. “I can’t…” She turned to look at Georgia as she rallied. “Can you baste the turkey? That’ll be Joanna, and I need to go and sort myself out.”
She opened the kitchen door. “Milly, can you get the door!” Jane called, before disappearing into the downstairs bathroom.
* * *
Georgia grabbed the oven gloves and carefully lifted the turkey out, the heat of the oven licking her face. The bird was massive. Just how many people did Jane have coming for dinner? A slew of old college lovers perhaps, just to add a bit more zest to the festivities? Her heart was still racing at breakneck speed, her face flushed as she followed Jane’s instructions, basting the turkey and accompanying veg. It was good to have something to concentrate on. She was just lifting the turkey back into the oven when Milly appeared.
“There you are, and why are you doing that? You’re a guest, for god’s sake.”
A sexy smile played on her lips, and Georgia recognised it as Jane’s smile.
“Where’s Mum?” Milly asked, leaning in for a kiss, her breath warm on Georgia’s face.
Georgia quickly shut the oven door and took a step backwards before their lips could connect, suddenly aware the kitchen was an extremely small space. She’d run her tongue up those thighs that very morning, tasted Milly, had her fully. She felt slightly sick. Milly, her current love, daughter of Jane, her former love. Darling Jane, who had broken her heart.
“She just nipped to the loo,” Georgia replied.
Georgia pushed her hair off her face and smiled at Milly. She was desperate to leave, but Milly grabbed her hand to draw her out of the kitchen. She hastily deposited the oven glove on the counter before she left.
“Come into the lounge and meet Joanna and Josh,” Milly said. “He seems lovely,” she whispered over her shoulder, “if a bit scared.”
Georgia shook her head. Josh didn’t even realise that whatever his faults, this was a “battle of the partners” he was about to win hands down.
“Jo, Josh, this is Georgia,” Milly said, pulling her close, putting a protective arm around her waist.
Georgia smiled and shook hands, absently looking around the room for an escape route. There were no exit doors or inflatable slides, so she’d have to be inventive. Sickness. A headache. A migraine. Yes, a migraine was perfect.
Where Milly took after Jane with her dark hair, brown eyes, and skin as pale as a porcelain doll, Georgia could see Paul leaping out of Joanna at every turn—his nose, his smile, his easy-going manner. Everything she didn’t want to be reminded of about good old Paul. Poor old Paul. What was it was like for Jane, seeing him reflected back at her every day of her life?
“Lovely to meet you at last,” Joanna said, flashing a smile so wide Georgia thought it might fall off her face. Josh, as befitted many young men in London these days, wore narrow jeans, a beard, and a worried smile. He shifted from foot to foot, holding a bag of gifts in his left hand. Behind her, Georgia sensed Jane returning to the room. That was confirmed by Joanna’s smile notching up a level, in tandem with Josh’s worried glance.
“We were wondering where you were, Mummy!” Joanna pulled Jane into a hug.
As introductions were made, Georgia stepped aside and took stock of the situation. She still couldn’t quite believe this was happening to her, but apparently this was her Christmas 2013 and she was in this room in Muswell Hill.
Joanna held Jane at arm’s length and studied her. “You okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”
Putting a tissue to her nose, Jane batted her comment away. “Allergies. And too much champagne. Talking of which, let me get you a drink and go check on the dinner.” She hurried out without a single look towards Georgia, Joanna hurrying after her.
“I can get us our drinks, Mum, you sit down,” Joanna said, but Jane was long gone.
“She’s acting very strange,” Milly said, sticking out her bottom lip. “Was she okay when you were getting the champagne?”
Georgia sighed as she felt Milly’s hand on the small of her back. Perhaps running screaming out the front door was the best option. She kissed Milly’s cheek and then gently pushed her away.
“I’ll just go and get the things from the car,” she said. “You keep Josh company.”
Milly, in full-on happy family mode, was happy to oblige.
Georgia grabbed he
r handbag, strode out of the lounge and down the magnolia hallway. She would have expected better from Jane than magnolia. Then again, Jane had been offered colour in her life and she’d rejected it for a life of conformity, a life of beige. Perhaps this hallway suited her perfectly. This, and the overhanging pelmets on her curtains. She never, ever thought she’d have a friend with pelmets.
Outside without a coat, the wind took Georgia’s breath away and lifted her hair away from her face. It whipped around her legs, sliced at her ankles, nipped at her neck. She reached her blue Mercedes, flashed the key fob, and sank gratefully into the driver’s seat. She considered her next move. Which was what, exactly?
The obvious option would be to start the engine and drive away, remove herself from the situation and leave Jane to have a family Christmas with her two daughters. But what about Milly? All her things were in the suitcase, all the presents in the boot. She couldn’t very well just drive off with all of them, could she? Besides, how on earth would she explain it? Milly knew where she lived, where she worked, where to find her. It wasn’t like she could just disappear.
Georgia sighed as she pulled down the sun visor and flipped the mirror open. She might feel freaked, but at least she was looking normal—mascara intact, hair still passable. She scrabbled in her handbag and found her favourite lipstick. She reapplied, then reached down and took off one of her black heels, kneaded the ball of her foot with her thumb. She wished she’d taken up her brother’s invitation and gone to his house for Christmas. At least that would have been dull and predictable. But then, that’s why she hadn’t said yes in the first place. But this…
Okay, she could do this. She took a deep breath and put her hand on the door lever just as she heard some knuckles rapping on her window. A furious Jane was peering down at her. Georgia hit the button and lowered window.
“Is this your default setting?” Jane asked.
If the window had been closed, the harshness of her words might have shattered the glass. Panic stuck in Georgia’s throat as she stared up at Jane’s crazed eyes.
“Don’t give me that look. You left me all those years ago, now you’re going to do the same to my daughter? On Christmas day?”
Was Jane going to reach in and punch her? Georgia edged away from the door, just in case. “I wasn’t going…”
“Plus, you’ve had too much bloody champagne to drive,” Jane added. Her eyes were drilling a hole into Georgia’s skull.
Georgia saw the net curtains in the living room twitch, and knew Milly had clocked the scene.
“I just came out to catch my breath and get the suitcase and presents,” Georgia said. “I bought you a present too. Trying to make a good impression.” She got out of the car and walked round to the boot, Jane’s heated gaze following her the whole way.
“What is it? A dagger? Some poison?” Jane asked. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
Georgia’s mouth curled into a snarl. “How terribly Shakespearian.” She pulled the grey Samsonite case out of the boot, along with the bag of gifts. She glanced at Jane, whose body was heaving so visibly that it looked like Rudolph was having a very bad day. “I brought Bollinger, actually. Safe choice, I thought. Perfect choice, it turns out.”
The corners of Jane’s mouth flickered upwards slightly and her bravado deflated in front of Georgia’s eyes.
“I…you… You can’t come back in,” Jane said.
Jane now looked freaked, and Georgia knew this wasn’t the course of action she’d talked herself into in the bathroom mirror. Georgia set the case on the pavement. The bag of gifts clinked when she put it down, and she looked at Jane with an eyebrow arched in question.
“Which is it? You don’t want me to drive off, or you don’t want me to come back in. You can’t have it both ways.” She sighed. “That’s what you’ve always wanted, but life doesn’t work like that.”
Jane’s lips drew into a tight line, and Georgia could see her internal struggle. She might not have ridden to Jane’s rescue all those years ago, but she found that she wanted to do that now. She exhaled sharply.
“I’m going to make this easy for you,” Georgia began. The hairs on her arms were standing on end, and she wasn’t surprised. It was icy cold in more ways than one. “I’ll come back in, drop off the presents, have a drink, and develop a sudden migraine. Then I’ll leave.”
Jane was staring at her, watching her mouth move, licking her lips. If Georgia hadn’t known better…
“And Milly?” Jane said, snapping out of her thrall. “She doesn’t deserve this. And that’s on top of the fact that she’s too young for you.”
Georgia closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. When she re-opened her eyes, Jane was still there, but now Milly was standing beside her with a puzzled look on her face.
“What am I too young for?” she asked, eyeing her mother with suspicion. “I told you on the phone she was older than me. What are you doing, throwing her out?” Milly’s voice was on the edge of hysteria.
Georgia stepped forward and touched her arm. “It’s okay, darling.”
“No, it’s not okay!” Jane and Milly yelled.
Georgia looked over at the door, where Joanna and Josh were standing shoeless on the threshold, mouths open, hanging onto the doorframe. Perfect.
Shaking her head, Milly burst into tears and stared at her mother. “I can’t fucking believe you’d do this. I thought after everything…everything, you’d support my choice of partner. I love her, Mum.” Milly took a deep breath. “I love her!”
Georgia winced; Jane let out a hollow laugh.
“You don’t love her. You don’t even know her. You’ve known her five minutes.” Jane fixed Georgia with a stare that kept her rooted to the spot. “You don’t know her at all.”
“And you do?” Milly asked, wiping away tears and sniffing continuously.
“Yes, I bloody do,” Jane said.
“Just because she’s thirty years—”
“She’s thirty-one years older than you, not thirty. Thirty-one!” Jane’s voice boomed off the pavement, slapping bare skin, denting car bonnets. “I know her. I went to university with her. She nearly broke me and your dad up with her games, her lies—” Jane abruptly clamped her hand over her mouth.
“My games? Really?” Georgia said, disbelief coating every word. “You’re the one who played games, you’re the one who declared your love but wouldn’t commit. So don’t fucking talk to me about games.”
They stood on the pavement glaring at one another, legs apart, torsos pitched forward as if they were about to engage in actual combat. Georgia and Jane—street fighters both.
Georgia could see Milly trying to make sense of it all, struggling to put together the pieces of the puzzle. She knew when she eventually got the entire picture, the ending would not be the happy one she’d hoped for.
Seeing the confusion in Milly’s eyes, followed closely by incredulity, Georgia clocked the scene from the street—neat lines of trees, box hedges, frosted windows, flashing tree lights. And on the pavement in front of number forty-nine, a Shakespearian plot played out: the dead father, the jealous lover, the jealous mother, and Georgia squarely in the middle. She’d have laughed if it hadn’t been so farcical.
Just at that moment, it began to snow.
“Am I…” Milly’s gaze shifted from Georgia to Jane, then back to Georgia. Her index finger pointed from one to the other. Two snowflakes settled on its tip, before melting into nothing. “Am I getting this right—you two?” Her nostrils twitched. “You two?” she repeated numbly.
Jane stared at the pavement. Georgia looked up at the sky, as if for Divine intervention, then reached out for Milly, who immediately shrugged her arm away.
“It’s not what you think,” Georgia began. “Well, not exactly what you think. Yes, your mum and I knew each other in college, but it was complicated—”
“By Dad?” Milly said.
The snow was falling in earnest now, and when Geor
gia looked over at Milly’s crumpled face, she was wearing a hat of snowflakes. She looked absurdly seasonal.
Milly threw her hands in the air. “I don’t understand. Am I sleeping with someone my mother has already slept with?” She instantly clapped her hands over her ears, as if that would somehow keep her from knowing the answer.
Georgia heard footsteps coming down the pathway, and she turned to see Joanna. She had her hood up over her head, and all Georgia could see were two wide, frightened eyes staring out of the pale face.
“What’s going on?” Joanna whispered. “Mum? Milly?” Even though she had addressed her mother and sister, she was looking at Georgia.
Georgia brushed snow off of her face and smiled softly. “What’s going on is, it seems I’ve outstayed my welcome.” Georgia’s eyes flicked to Milly. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I honestly didn’t know.”
Jane took her hands away from her face and stared at Georgia.
Georgia set the bag of gifts down in front of Joanna, along with Milly’s suitcase. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she moved back to the car. It was snowing harder now, but her body was impervious to the cold, her shoulders rigid like girders. She cast a final fleeting look at the trio standing in a row in the snow, raised a hand in defeat, and opened the car door.
Jane took a step towards her. “Georgie…”
Georgie. Jane was the only person who’d ever called her that in her life. Usually behind closed doors, when Paul was out, when she was sure nobody would hear. Georgie. Georgia glanced at Jane and caught the longing in her eyes. Somehow she knew it wasn’t the last time in her life she’d ever hear Jane say it.
“Happy Christmas,” Georgia said to the three stricken women standing on the pavement.
As her body settled in the driver’s seat, she felt relieved to be in her own safe space, a metal cocoon. She was comforted by the thud of the heavy car door as it shut her in.
They were all still watching her.
“Drink the good champagne first,” Georgia called out the open window, then pressed the button to close it. Her window sealed out the rest of the world. The engine roared to life. Without a backwards look, Georgia drove forwards, into the rest of her Christmas Day.
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