‘You're an idiot,’ Amy says, shaking her head. ‘A filthy idiot.’
‘Talking of filthy idiots,’ I say, ‘I found a pair of knickers down the side of the sofa, Lee!’
Lee looks affronted. ‘I haven't worn knickers for years, I'll have you know. Not since that time they weren't clean and I got run over and it was a whole big thing...’
I open one of the drawers under the coffee table and pull out the pants by one of the side ribbons. I dangle them in front of Lee's face. ‘They're not mine!’ I say. ‘And I don't think they're Amy's.’
Lee opens and closes his mouth before looking over at Amy. I can see the panic in his eyes. I look at Amy and it's mirrored in hers.
‘They're yours?’ I ask her.
‘They're not... my... I mean. They are mine, but...’
I look back at Lee. And then at Amy. And then I get it. Finally.
‘You two?’
Lee is still opening and closing his mouth.
Amy says, ‘Don't be angry.’
I swirl around to look at her. She's blushing. I don't think I've ever seen her blush before and I've known her since we were eleven.
‘Oh my God, since when?!’
‘Not that long,’ Amy says at the same time as Lee says, ‘About three months.’
‘Three months?!’
‘Shit,’ Lee says.
‘Three months?!’ I say again. ‘We just talked about this, Amy! You didn't say anything!’
‘We didn't want to say anything until we were sure,’ Amy says.
‘But we were going to tell you soon,’ Lee says. ‘Once Christmas was out of the way.’
‘Oh my God,’ I say. ‘Is it serious? Are you in love?’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Amy says as Lee says, ‘Yes.’
‘Yes?! Amy!’
Amy grins. ‘Yeah. Me too. We're in love.’
‘Oh my God. I can't believe it.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Amy says.
‘Hey!’ Lee says, pretend-affronted.
‘So... how did it happen?’ I ask them.
‘At first it was just going to be a friends with benefits thing, you know?’ Amy says. ‘Neither of us had met anyone for a while and we, you know...’
‘Have needs,’ I say. And snigger.
‘But then we kind of just kept doing it,’ Amy says. ‘And then went out for dinner and stuff.’
‘Oh God, you've been dating? Behind my back?’
‘Are you angry?’ Lee says.
‘I'm not angry, I'm just... surprised. Why didn't you tell me?’
‘We just wanted to see how it would go, you know? We know it's awkward with us all living together – we didn't want to make it into a big thing.’
‘Don't need to know about his thing,’ I say. ‘So hang on. Knickers on the sofa. Tell me you haven't been doing it out here while I'm in bed.’
‘God, no,’ Amy says at the same time as Lee says, ‘Just the once.’
Chapter 9
I don't know how long I stand at the gate, but it's long enough that I start to lose the feeling in my feet. It's snowed again – not as much as the night Joe got snowed in – but enough that the taxi ride here gave me a few moments of fear. I just can't make myself go in.
Amy and Lee are both with their families today, although they've been plotting to meet up at the pub this evening – and they both told me I can call them at any time. They even said I could go and join either of them if I feel like it's not working out at Joe's, but I really want to spend Christmas with Joe. I do. I just can't seem to convince my legs.
My phone buzzes in my coat pocket and I pull it out. Text from Joe: Do you want me to come out? :/
I look at the house, but I can't see him. But then there's actually quite a long path and the sun is low and shining on the windows so it's possible I wouldn't be able to see him even if he was stood there waving at me. I think part of the reason I can't go in is that the house is so much bigger than I was expecting. Set back from the road, I assumed it was a semi-detached when the taxi first pulled up, but it's actually a really enormous detached. Double-fronted. Huge bay windows and steps up to the door. Style-wise, it's quite similar to the house I grew up in, it's just about four times the size.
I haven't replied to Joe's text, but the front door opens and I shade my eyes against the sun. I'm relieved to see it's Joe – I really don't feel ready to meet his family just yet.
‘Are you okay?’ he says, when he's about halfway down the path.
I nod.
‘Happy Christmas,’ he says. He stops on the other side of the gate and smiles at me.
I try to say it back, but my throat's closed up and I can only shake my head.
‘Do you know about kissing gates?’ he says. He's wearing a chunky black jumper and jeans. I was worried everyone might be more formally dressed – and I kept forgetting to ask Joe – so I'm relieved.
‘They're these old gates you get in the country. Like where there'd sometimes be a stile, you know? You have to open it and then close it again to let someone else through. So one person is on either side of the gate, which is a perfect time to, you know.’ He grins.
I take a step closer to the gate and grab the top of it with both hands. He puts his hands on top of mine and kisses me over the gate. As soon as his mouth touches mine, I feel some of the tension disappear. And I immediately wish there wasn't a gate between us. I want to be pressed up against him with his arms around me. Preferably without our clothes, but that's obviously not an option.
‘I don't know how I'm going to be able to resist you today,’ he says, kissing my jaw. ‘Are you ready to come in? Your face is freezing.’
I rub my face against his and say, ‘Yes. But do it quick, like ripping off a plaster.’
‘Here? I'm going to have to open the gate...’
I smile. ‘Not that. Unfortunately. The introductions. And I'll need a drink.’
‘Is that what you've been worrying about?’ he says.
He opens the gate and steers me inside, wrapping his arms around me and dropping a kiss on the top of my head. ‘It'll be fine, I promise. And as soon as we're inside I'll get you a pint. Of wine.’
At the front door, I can hear Christmas music, laughter, the clinking of glasses, children shrieking, a dog barking. I tell myself I'm in a film. This isn't my life. I'm a character and I'm playing 'Joe's girlfriend, going home for Christmas'. Joe holds my hand and says, ‘Your room is up here.’ Instead of going downstairs to where all the noise is coming from, he steers me up two flights of bare wooden stairs and opens a door.
‘This is your room,’ he says. ‘It's at the top so that if you need to get away you can. If you want us to spend the rest of the day up here we can do that too...’
The room is small, but tastefully decorated in pale blue and cream. There's a small flat-screen TV on the wall and an en-suite. Joe sits down on the bed and smiles up at me.
I step between his thighs and drop my forehead down to meet his. ‘You are perfect.’
‘You haven't met my family yet.’
‘Do they know where you are?’ I say, taking another step so I'm pressed right up against him.
‘No. I said I was going out for some fresh air. And it's not like anyone's going to look for me. Too busy gossiping about some cousin's divorce...’
I tip my head and run my tongue along his lower lip and he gasps. His hands slide up the backs of my thighs, pushing my dress up and slipping under my knickers.
‘We'll have to be quiet.’
‘I can be quiet,’ I whisper.
I undo his belt and the buttons on his fly. He half-stands, pushing his jeans down his hips and then stops to fish a condom out of the tiny front pocket. He hooks his fingers in the sides of my knickers and pulls them down and I shudder. I straddle him and he slides right inside me. He groans and I push one hand into his hair and use the other to brace myself against the wall.
Joe presses his face against the side of my neck and I clen
ch my teeth as I move against him, rocking my hips.
We can still hear the party even though it's down a few flights of stairs and the thought that anyone could come looking for us at any time turns me on more than I ever would have imagined. Joe leans forward, saying ‘Sorry, my jeans are –’ and I actually have to bite his shoulder to stop myself screaming.
‘Don't move,’ I say, through my teeth. I move my hand down to the small of his back and press him more firmly against me.
‘Ella,’ he says.
I open my eyes and he kisses me, pulling me even closer. And then I feel like I'm falling. Everything goes black and I press my face against Joe's shoulder as I lose it completely. I hear him moan, feel his hands sliding up my back, his mouth on my neck while I shudder. I cling onto him. I don't want this feeling to end, but I don't know how much more I can stand. Joe tenses and relaxes and suddenly my whole body feels weak and liquid. I flop against him and his arms move up to hold me.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he says.
‘I know,’ I say. ‘I've never… it's never been like that before.’
‘Let's just stay here,’ Joe says.
I want to look at him. To smile. To kiss him. But I feel too weak to move. My head's on his shoulder and I can't be bothered to lift it.
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘We can put a chair under the door handle.’
Joe reaches up to touch my face and I shiver. He runs his thumb across my mouth and I manage to turn my head enough to kiss the side of his ear.
‘What's this?’ I say, squinting. ‘Is your ear pierced?’
‘Oh God,’ he says. ‘It was a dare while I was away.’
I laugh. ‘Oh my God. I can't believe I just did… that! With a man with an earring.’
‘I haven't got an earring,’ he says. ‘Just a… hole in my ear.’
I laugh and bite his earlobe. ‘This is why backpackers have a reputation.’
‘That's nothing compared to the reputation you'll get if we don't get downstairs in the next ten minutes.’
‘I knew that chair under the door idea was too good to be true.’
Chapter 10
Joe holds tightly to my hand and I appreciate it. I don't actually feel as nervous as I did when I first got here – amazing sex is very relaxing – but it's still intimidating walking into a room full of people you don't know.
We stop in the doorway to the kitchen, which is actually in the basement. It's an enormous kitchen-diner with a glass roof, huge flat screen TV on the wall and French doors leading out into the garden. It's fairly full of people, drinking, eating and laughing with children and, I think, a dog, running around. In my imagination, everyone stops what they are doing and stares silently at Joe's orphan friend, but of course that doesn't happen. No one takes any notice of us at all, apart from Patrick, who simply raises one hand to me and then gets back to whoever he's talking to.
‘I'll get us a drink,’ Joe says.
I don't let go of his hand, so I end up being tugged along behind him. People smile at me and the remaining threads of the knot in my stomach start to unravel. Joe hands me a glass of wine and we step out into the garden, which is small – smaller than I expected – but beautifully landscaped and lit with fairy lights in the trees and with one of those chemical fire pits melting the snow. We sit down on a bench and are immediately joined by a man with cropped hair and dark-rimmed glasses. He looks a bit like David Tennant. Then he grins and looks like Joe. He sits on the arm of the bench and I smile up at him, slightly dazzled by the fairy lights.
‘This is Alex, my brother,’ Joe says. ‘The one who doesn't work for Dad.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Alex says. He holds his hand out to me and I shake it. ‘Have you talked to Dad yet?’ he asks Joe.
Joe shakes his head. ‘Managed to avoid him so far.’
‘Good luck with that.’
‘Where's Nick?’ Joe asks.
‘Hiding, I think,’ Alex says. ‘Nick is my boyfriend/partner/whatever, bt dubs,’ he tells me.
‘Don't say “bt dubs”,’ Joe says. ‘It makes you sound like a wanker.’
‘Don't abandon the family business,’ Alex says. ‘It makes you look like a bastard. Oh dear, too late.’
They grin at each other and I'm surprised to find my eyes welling with tears. This happens sometimes. I'm struck by the family I don't have and never will.
‘Have you had some food?’ Alex asks, swinging his feet round to put them on the seat next to me.
‘No!’ Joe says. ‘Have you eaten? When did you eat?’
‘It's not sit-down,’ Alex says. ‘Didn't Mum tell you? She's done a running buffet.’
He does finger speech marks for 'running buffet' and it immediately makes me want to text Amy. She'd love him. Also I'm enormously relieved that we're not doing a sit-down meal. I'd been worried about trying to make polite conversation with strangers over a formal dinner.
‘Jess is pissed off,’ Alex says. ‘Says we have to have a proper dinner at Christmas. But there's just too many of us now. And it's not as if she ever helps.’
‘I know you know I'm here,’ a woman – Jess, I assume – says from the French doors. ‘As if you'd be brave enough to slag me otherwise.’
She's small and dark and really pretty. She's got a chicken leg in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. ‘Have any of you seen Melly? She asked me to make her some toast and then she buggered off.’
Joe's mum looks just like Jess, but with silvery blonde hair. She's got a painting apron – one with sleeves – on over her clothes and she doesn't stop moving the entire time we're talking to her. She's wiping surfaces, plating up food, boiling kettles. She even, at one point, answers the phone and carries on two conversations at once. She reminds me of my own mum so much that I don't know whether to run away and cry or to hug her and never let go.
I'm distracted by the arrival of Joe's dad. He looks a lot like Joe, but with a beard and grey in the side of his hair. He claps Joe on the shoulder and looks me up and down. ‘Joe told me about your parents. I'm very sorry.’
I nod. ‘Thank you.’
‘You work with Patrick?’ he says.
I nod again.
‘So that explains why Joe is happy to go and work with his uncle but won't even consider coming to work with me.’
‘It's got nothing to do with Ella, Dad,’ Joe says.
‘Does Ella know you won't be hanging around? Does she know you'll be buggering off as soon as you get a chance?’
‘Seriously,’ Joe says. ‘Do we have to talk about this now?’
His dad shakes his head and then puts one heavy hand on my shoulder. ‘Don't worry. It's not you. It's him. Commitment-phobic.’
‘Dad!’ Joe says. He squeezes my hand so tightly it hurts. I squeeze back. ‘We can talk about this tomorrow.’
‘Right,’ his dad says. ‘So there's something to talk about. That's progress,’ he tells me. ‘Usually when I want to talk to Joe I look up and find he's legged it to Guatemala...’
‘I'm not going to leg it to Guatemala,’ Joe says. ‘I'm not going anywhere.’
‘We'll see,’ his dad says. After another squeeze of my shoulder, he wanders into the garden and I see him lighting a cigarette just before he gets through the door.
‘Sorry about that,’ Joe tells me.
‘What do you mean you're not going anywhere?’ I say.
He shakes his head. ‘I don't know. Can we talk about it later? I need a drink.’
I nod. He'll go back, I know he will, I think. How could he resist charity work in Botswana?
I follow Joe through the house, saying hello to various family members as we go.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask him. He grabs a bottle of wine on the way out of the room and puts one finger to his lips.
We go out of the front door and I tip my face back. It's snowing again. I put my tongue out to catch some flakes. ‘I hope you've got somewhere warm for us to go,’ I say.
He grins at me. ‘When
did you last see Alex or Jess?’ he says. ‘And you haven't even met Matt yet, have you?’
I shake my head and concentrate on not slipping in the snow. We go through a gate at the side of the garden and up a footpath before stopping in front of a garage door. Joe knocks three times, then two, and then another three, and a smaller door I hadn't even noticed opens. Joe gestures to me to go through.
‘Wow!’ I gasp as soon as we walk in. It's not a garage. It's a study. It's lit with lamps and some fairy lights. There are two huge squashy sofas covered with throws and a desk with a computer. Alex is sitting with one thigh hanging over the leg of a black guy I assume is Nick. Jess is on the floor, her back against the sofa. And a guy who must be Matt is slumped on the other sofa.
‘I can't believe you sneaked off and left us,’ Joe says. ‘What happened to the Musketeers?’
‘You fucked off to Australia, I believe,’ Jess says. ‘You don't get to come to the meetings any more.’
‘Fair enough,’ Joe says. ‘But what about poor Ella? She's just been subjected to one of Dad's lectures on my irresponsibility.’
‘Did he squeeze your shoulder?’ Jess asks me.
I nod.
‘You'll have finger marks tomorrow,’ she says.
Alex nods. ‘It's his signature move. Dad grip.’
‘So, I brought wine,’ Joe says, holding up the bottle. His siblings cheer and Alex moves to allow me to sit down. I slump on the sofa and tip my head back, closing my eyes for a second.
‘I think we broke her,’ one of the other brothers says.
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I'm just tired.’
And overwhelmed. And missing my family. And Amy and Lee. But I am surprised at how at home I feel with Joe's siblings. But at the same time that freaks me out. Because it was supposed to be a fling. And now Joe's talking about cancelling his trip? And I'm here for family Christmas? This is not what I signed up for.
***
‘Ella?’
I shake my head. I'm so tired.
All I Want for Christmas: a funny and sexy festive novella Page 6