by Cleary James
‘You can sit here, Lisa.’ Janet guided her to an empty space between Emma and Sarah, and Grayson sat opposite her.
Lisa soon forgot her shyness as Janet and Don took their seats, and everyone started talking at once as they passed dishes around the table. Dinner was a delicious fish pie with side dishes of buttered leeks and carrots.
Grayson’s sisters were full of questions for Lisa, tripping over each other in their eagerness to quiz her about herself. She got the feeling she was a bit of a novelty for them.
‘Mum tells us you’re an artist,’ Alison said.
‘So how did you two meet?’ Sarah asked simultaneously.
Lisa laughed. ‘Um ...’ Her eyes met Grayson’s across the table and she blushed. ‘Yes, I’m an artist. We met through Isabel.’
‘Oh, you know Isabel?’ Emma’s eyes widened significantly.
‘Isabel represents Lisa,’ Grayson said smoothly, as if implying that was how they’d met.
‘She gave me my first solo show,’ Lisa said, keeping up the semi-fiction.
One of the husbands – Patrick? – rolled his eyes sympathetically at Lisa. ‘You’ll have to forgive them. We all had to go through this grilling the first time, didn’t we?’ He looked around at the other men, who nodded.
‘Sorry,’ Emma said, without a hint of contrition. ‘It’s just that Grayson’s never brought a girlfriend home before.’
‘Shut up, Emma,’ Grayson said good-naturedly.
‘We don’t know how to behave because we haven’t had any practice,’ she continued undaunted, throwing her brother a teasing glance.
‘Mum said you used to live in Porth Heron,’ Sarah said.
‘That’s right. But I’m from London originally.’
‘Are your family in London?’ Alison asked.
‘Lisa doesn’t have any family,’ Janet told her quietly.
‘I was raised by my grandparents,’ she said, ‘but they’re dead now.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Alison said.
‘Thanks.’ Everyone looked at her sympathetically. Lisa was touched by their compassion, but she hated being an object of pity.
‘Well, you’ve got us now!’ Emma said gaily. ‘Marry Grayson and you’ll have more family than you know what to do with.’
Lisa blushed, throwing a cautious glance at Grayson.
‘Who said anything about marriage?’ he said tetchily to his sister.
‘Are you going to marry Uncle Grayson?’ Poppy asked Lisa in her high, childish voice.
Lisa shifted uncomfortably, not knowing how to answer as she suddenly felt all eyes on her.
‘Poppy,’ Sarah chided. ‘You shouldn’t ask questions like that.’
‘Why not?’ Poppy said. ‘I think it would be nice. Lisa could be my auntie.’
‘Would you like that?’ Sarah said indulgently to her daughter.
Poppy nodded, beaming at Lisa.
‘I agree,’ Sarah said. ‘I think it would be very nice. So, how about it, Grayson?’ She turned to him. ‘When are we going to hear wedding bells?’ she asked with a playful wink.
‘Not everyone is as obsessed with weddings as you three,’ Grayson snapped. Everyone looked startled by his reaction, and Lisa flinched. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Janet’s eyes fly to the ring on her finger.
‘Sorry,’ Grayson sighed, giving his sister an apologetic smile. ‘But it serves you right for being nosy.’
‘Sore subject, obviously,’ Sarah said with a roll of her eyes.
There was an awkward silence, the atmosphere around the table suddenly strained. Janet threw a shrewd look at Grayson.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Emma said to Sarah with a little laugh. ‘He’s just touchy about it because we always made him be the groom when we played at weddings. We’ve probably put him off for life.’
‘Well, I think they should get married,’ Poppy piped up, relieving the tension. ‘Lisa looks nice. She’s got lovely hair.’ She turned to her little sister for support.
Daisy nodded solemnly. ‘I like her,’ she said quietly.
Grayson smiled fondly at his niece, then at Lisa. ‘I like her too.’
‘It’d be nice being married to Uncle Grayson,’ Daisy said, turning to Lisa. ‘He’s good at telling stories. And he buys you lots of sweets when you go to the cinema.’
‘Well, that’s quite a recommendation,’ Lisa said seriously as everyone laughed. ‘I’ll definitely have to think about it.’
After dinner, Don went to the local pub for a traditional Christmas Eve drink with some friends, while Grayson and his sisters put the children to bed and read them stories. Their husbands were sorting presents in the garage, preparing to sneak back into the house and play Santa Claus once the children were asleep. Lisa helped Janet clear up, and when they had finished, Janet made them hot port and they sat at the kitchen table enjoying a moment of calm.
Lisa felt Janet’s eyes going to her hands, cupped around the steaming glass.
‘Can I ask you something, Lisa?’ she asked gently.
There was something ominous in her tentative tone, but Lisa nodded.
‘Of course you don’t have to answer,’ Janet said with a light laugh. ‘You can tell me to mind my own business.’
Lisa smiled at her in response.
Janet took a deep breath. ‘Did Grayson ask you to marry him?’
Lisa clenched her fist on the table. ‘Yes,’ she said faintly, dropping her gaze, not able to look Janet in the eye.
‘And you said no.’
It wasn’t a question. Lisa looked up at her. ‘Yes, I did.’ She frowned. ‘How did you know?’
‘That ring,’ Janet nodded to Lisa’s finger. ‘It was my mother’s engagement ring. But you’re wearing it on your right hand.’
‘Oh,’ Lisa whispered, appalled. She felt awful. What must Janet think of her? She started to twist the ring off her finger. She should never have accepted it.
‘No,’ Janet frowned, putting a hand over hers to stop her. ‘It’s yours. Grayson obviously wanted you to have it.’
‘But—it’s an engagement ring, and I’m not going to marry him.’
‘No,’ Janet sighed. ‘But it’s not as if he’s going to marry anyone else, is it? I’ve seen the way he is with you, Lisa. He clearly adores you. Keep the ring. It was his to give to whomever he chose.’ Her hand closed over Lisa’s. ‘But—can I ask you something else?’
Lisa nodded, biting her lip.
‘Why don’t you want to marry him? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen two people so much in love – unless I’m very much mistaken.’
Lisa shook her head. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to marry Grayson,’ she said, looking earnestly at Janet, pleading with her to understand. ‘I don’t want to marry anyone.’
‘You don’t believe in marriage?’
‘It’s not that I don’t believe in it. It’s just ... not for me. It scares me, to be honest,’ she said with a little self-deprecating laugh. She felt like such an idiot admitting that. ‘I know it’s silly, and I don’t even know why exactly—’
‘Well, it is a big step ...’
‘I love Grayson – so much. And I know he loves me. I want us to be together always. It’s not that I’m afraid of the commitment. But the idea of marriage. ... when I think about it, I panic and I feel like I can’t breathe.’
Janet just nodded understandingly.
‘I wish I could say yes. I’d do anything to make him happy—’
‘You make him very happy, Lisa.’ Janet squeezed her hand. ‘You love each other. You’re happy together. That’s all that matters.’
Lisa smiled, relieved. She was grateful to Janet for being so kind and understanding. Her calm, accepting presence was so comforting. Lisa could see how just talking to her could be healing. She must have been a wonderful therapist.
‘I’m sorry Sarah embarrassed you, but she didn’t mean any harm. Forget her talk of weddings, but I’ll stand by the rest of what she said. Married or
not, I hope we can be your family now,’ she said.
‘I’d like that,’ Lisa said, her eyes welling with tears. ‘More than anything.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
The next morning she and Grayson were woken by Poppy bursting into their room announcing that it was Christmas and demanding that they get up. They quickly pulled on dressing gowns and joined everyone else in the race downstairs, led by the excited children, to see what Santa had brought. Lisa had helped lay out all the presents in the living room last night, and she loved being part of the excitement. She’d never had a family Christmas like this before. It had always just been her and her grandparents. Their Christmases were always wonderful, but they’d been quiet. Grayson’s large, boisterous family was very different, and she loved joining in the fun, watching the children’s wide-eyed wonder as they discovered the presents that had magically appeared under the tree. They squealed and shouted over each other in delight as they tore at wrapping paper, while the adults looked on fondly, snapping photos.
Lisa had been reticent at first about blending in with Grayson’s family, but her shyness soon evaporated as she found herself swept up in helping with dinner preparations. She was glad they let her help instead of treating her like a guest, and she felt like one of the family as she joined Grayson’s mother and sisters in the kitchen. They chatted easily as they worked, Grayson’s sisters telling her funny stories about their childhood and the tortures they’d inflicted on each other. Soon it was as if they’d known each other all their lives, and any awkwardness from last night’s dinner was forgotten.
Once dinner preparations were under control, everyone assembled in the living room to exchange presents. Lisa had never had so many parcels to open on Christmas Day. Grayson’s sisters gave her jewellery, luxurious bath oils and scented candles, and his parents gave her a stunning piece of abstract glass sculpture made by a local artist. She had bought most of their gifts from her friends – ceramic pieces by Susie for Grayson’s sisters, and one of Daniel’s paintings for Don and Janet. She was pleased the children seemed delighted with the books she had given to all of them. She had chosen them with care after quizzing Grayson about their preferences.
She gave Grayson his present last. He raised his eyebrows quizzically as she handed him the heavy parcel. She held her breath as he opened it, uncovering the intricately carved wooden box. His face lit up delightedly as he lifted the lid and saw the vintage Italian wooden chess set, each piece exquisitely hand carved and painted. She had spent a long time searching for the perfect gift for Grayson, and she had been so pleased to find the chess set in a little antique shop in Mayfair – even more so that after her show, she had been able to afford it. She thought it would look right at home in Grayson’s library.
‘It’s perfect,’ he breathed reverently, picking up a knight to examine it. ‘Thank you.’ He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the lips. ‘Winning will be sweeter than ever.’
‘It doesn’t have magical properties, you know,’ she said with a wry smile.
‘Okay, that’s fighting talk. You and me, after dinner.’
‘You’re on.’
Still laughing, Grayson took a long cylindrical parcel from under the tree and handed it to her. ‘This is for you,’ he said. ‘Happy Christmas.’
Intrigued, Lisa unwrapped it. Inside was a plastic tube. She glanced at Grayson quizzically as she opened it, puzzled as to what it could be. She pulled out three large sheets of drafting paper and unrolled them, flattening them out on the floor. They were architectural drawings, she realised, but she still wasn’t sure what exactly she was looking at as her eyes scanned the plans and sketches – until she saw the legend in the top right-hand corner: Lisa’s studio. She gasped, her eyes flying up to Grayson’s.
‘Really?’ she breathed, eyes wide.
He smiled and came to sit beside her on the floor as she bent her head over the plans again and he interpreted them for her. He planned to build the studio to the side of his house, connected but with its own separate entrance. He became boyishly excited as he pointed out the different features of the structure and how he’d designed the space to optimise natural light. As he spoke, Lisa stopped looking at the plans and watched his face, loving his enthusiasm.
‘You can see what you think,’ he said. ‘Nothing is set in stone. Anything you see here can be changed if you have other ideas.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Lisa said. ‘Thank you so much.’ She threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight. ‘This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me.’ She couldn’t wait to see it taking shape, already excited at the thought of working there.
‘I can’t wait to get started on it,’ Grayson said, echoing her thoughts as he hugged her back. ‘But I got you something else, since you can’t use this right away,’ he said, nodding to the plans still in Lisa’s lap as his sisters crowded around to peer at them over her shoulder. He got up and went behind the tree, pulling out a surf board with a big red ribbon tied around the middle.
‘You’ll never guess what it is,’ he joked, grinning as he presented it to Lisa.
‘Hmm, I think I may have an idea,’ she said, standing up to take it from him. She gave a puzzled frown as she untied the ribbon. ‘A surf board!’ she squealed in surprise, clapping her hands playfully.
Grayson laughed.
Lisa ran her hand over the surface of the board. It was beautiful – sleek and polished, with a colourful tie-dye design in pinks and blues. ‘It’s gorgeous! I can’t wait to try it out,’ she grinned.
Grayson smiled at her and not for the first time, she wondered what she’d done to deserve this beautiful man. When she was with him, she felt so ... cherished. It was the only word for it. Had she been wrong to turn him down when he proposed? She loved him with all her being, and she knew he loved her. She trusted him absolutely. She wanted to have a life with him – a life like this, filled with love and family – and it was hers for the taking. Why couldn’t she just reach out and grab it?
Later as she watched Grayson playing with his nieces and nephews, helping Poppy build a Lego fire station, or putting together a train set with Daisy, she couldn’t help thinking what a wonderful father he would make. She had never been broody before, but he was so good with his sisters’ children, and watching him with them, she felt a sudden pang of longing for a baby –his baby. As if he felt her gaze, he looked up. His eyes dropped to Daisy, cradled in her lap, admiring a sketch of a horse Lisa had done for her, and she got the distinct feeling he was feeling the same thing as her.
‘Do another one!’ Daisy said, pulling her attention back. She was delighted with Lisa’s drawing skills, demanding one sketch after another from her.
‘Okay, what shall I draw next?’
‘Do a monkey!’
‘Hmm, okay. Why don’t we both do one,’ she said, handing a box of crayons to Daisy, ‘and then Uncle Grayson can decide which one is best.’
Christmas dinner was a joyous affair. They ate at the long table in the dining room, children squeezed in between adults. As chatter and laughter flowed around her, Lisa felt incredibly lucky to be welcomed into this happy, loving family. There was so much warmth and affection here, and as she cast her eyes around the table at their friendly, smiling faces, she couldn’t prevent her mind from drifting back to last Christmas with Mark. The contrast couldn’t have been more stark.
They had eaten dinner alone, just the two of them. Mark’s father was dead, and he was estranged from his mother, who had remarried and moved to France. Lisa had felt tense and on edge all day, miserable that Christmas, which had been such a happy time when her grandparents were alive, had become so lonely and empty. The whole thing had become just another exercise in creating the picture-perfect magazine life.
They had an artfully decorated tree, carefully colour-themed in white and blue. It looked bleak and chilly to Lisa, but Mark refused to let her use any of the gaudy multi-coloured decorations she had saved from her childhood. Th
ey hosted a champagne reception in the morning, and Lisa had spent days beforehand making elegant canapés to serve to Mark’s important friends instead of the fruit-laden puddings, booze-soaked cakes and buttery mince pies she’d have made with her grandmother in the lead-up to the holiday.
Lisa found the whole thing exhausting and depressing, and there was no reward at the end of it for all her hard work – no thanks or appreciation, none of the enjoyment or fun of sharing it all with someone who really cared for her. Mark had chosen her clothes, of course, and she had been uncomfortable all day in a figure-hugging jersey dress and spiky heels.
Instead of the traditional roast turkey dinner, they had shared a seafood platter filled with the crab, oysters and lobster that Mark loved, and which moreover wouldn’t make Lisa fat. He had given her expensive jewellery she didn’t care about and sexy lingerie that was just for him, and she had forced a smile onto her lips and pretended to be pleased because she knew how angry he’d be if she didn’t play her part right. She’d almost let her facade slip when she’d opened her final present and Mark explained to her what it was – a butt plug. Even now she flinched at the thought of it. She had been in danger of bursting into tears, and it had taken all her strength not to show how despondent and miserable she’d felt.
Mark had talked before about wanting anal sex, but she had always resisted and put him off.
‘We’re going to start training that ass of yours,’ he’d said then, as if it was a fun activity for them both. ‘No more excuses,’ he said, grinning at her mischievously. ‘You’re going to love it, Lisa. You’ll see.’
She didn’t love it. But at least he couldn’t see her face as she wept into her pillow a few nights later as he pushed inside her. He had quickly lost patience with her ‘training’ and decided she was ready for the real thing. It hurt, and she had gritted her teeth and clutched the pillow, but still a sharp cry had escaped her lips when he rammed himself balls-deep inside her.