by Daisy Burton
So, it was just Jess and Sal, much like the old days except this time the tables were turned. Sal was the mess and Jess was supporting her. They got through the first week or so of Marsh’s absence spending quite a lot of time together.
Christmas was getting closer, though, and that added to Sal’s anxiety. Alex and Blue, usually came over on Christmas Eve to open presents with their dad and had done that since they were little, even before Sal lived there. Marsh’s ex-wife always did an incredible Christmas spread, but he had never been one for cooking a festive lunch. So, it was usually an afternoon and evening of chocolate, sweets, biscuits, cakes, pop – and as they’d got older, wine – presents, cheesy Christmas music, cheap crackers, board games, terrible jokes and lots of laughter.
It had always been Sal’s favourite day of the year, and this new tradition had only reinforced that. She might not have wanted her own children, but it was so wonderful to see Marsh’s two, even as teens, opening presents with shouts of glee and the knowledge that she’d got it right. Marsh never had a clue what to get them and he’d relied on Sal to buy their presents, which she did with happy aplomb. She always made sure she knew what they liked, or whatever was the Most Popular Present for their age group that particular year.
But this year? Sal had no idea what he’d arranged, or whether he was expecting it to go ahead. She’d bought all their presents some time ago, but she had no idea whether they knew about the split, and with only a few days to go, she needed to know.
She rang his mobile, but the line was busy and went straight to voicemail. It was hard hearing his voice for the first time since he’d left, but she steeled herself and left as bright a message as she could muster.
Forcing a smile as you spoke is meant to make you sound happy, isn’t it?
“Hi Marsh!” she trilled. “I was wondering, are you and the girls coming here as usual on Friday? I’m not sure what they’ve been told and I need time to prepare. Can you let me know? Cheers. Oh – it’s Sallie by the way.”
That was awkward. Who else would it be saying that stuff?
She exhaled heavily as she pressed the button to hang up and she could feel her heart banging through her chest. It was nerve-wracking knowing he’d be calling back, but equally, she was hoping to see the girls. It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.
He rang about 40 minutes later and she literally leapt out of her seat. Standing, she took several deep breaths.
“Hello, Sallie speaking?”
“Hey, Sal, sorry, I was on a call when you rang. How are you?”
“I’m okay thanks. Did you hear my message?” She was fairly short and to the point but her voice was soft. It was good to hear his voice ‘live’ and she found it easier to cope with than she’d anticipated.
“Listen, I haven’t mentioned anything to the girls about our situation. I didn’t want to wreck their Christmas and anyway, we don’t know what’s going to happen yet.”
“Don’t we?” That was something of a relief, but although he hadn’t decided anything, she hadn’t either. He didn’t seem to have thought about that. “Well, I’m happy for them to come over. And you, obviously, but we’ll have to put up a bit of a front for them. Will you be able to?”
“Sal, it’ll be great to see you, I’ve missed you. I still love you.”
Shit, don’t say that.
She was going to cry. Taking a deep breath, she controlled her wobbling lower lip and tightening throat, and tried to speak normally. “Okay, tell them the usual time, and you can help me get the place ready if you can come a bit earlier?” That was squeakier than she’d have liked.
“Sure. What time do you want me? I’ll stay over too, if that’s alright with you?”
“Around 3.00pm? I guess if the girls are staying overnight as usual, you need to too, or they’ll know something’s wrong?”
“Yep, if that’s okay? It’ll be nice to wake up with you Christmas morning anyway. I’ll find out what they want to do and let you know,” his voice was softening. “It’s good to hear your voice, Sal. It’s been a hard time for me.”
Hard for you?!
“Okay, see you on Friday afternoon, then.” she said, as upbeat as she could muster.
“Yup, bye Pumpkin.”
Shit. Stop that. “Bye, Marsh.”
She sat on the sofa trembling for a few minutes, but she was proud of how she’d handled that call. There had been no tears, but she’d done so much crying since he left that it wasn’t helping any more - she was all cried out. It felt as if she was being pulled back and forth by him, but despite that and everything she knew about what he’d been doing, she still loved him.
She still didn’t know precisely what had or hadn’t happened between him and Maire. That was both a help and a hindrance to her mind, which tried valiantly to fill in the gaps. Mainly at 3.00am.
Sal had always lived by the rule that letting things go, seeing the other side of an argument, and forgiving other people’s poor treatment of her was the best way for everyone. She stood by that now, and felt no anger towards him. She could still feel her intense love for him, but she was hit hard by desperate feelings of sadness and inadequacy that filled her whenever she thought of him with Maire.
Anyway. She gave herself a kick.
She had other things to concentrate on and organise now. Friday had to be absolutely perfect for the girls, who were relying on her to give them a lovely Christmas Eve. It might be the last one she would spend with them, so she wanted to do a good job.
The loft was a murky, cold and spooky place when there was no one else in the house, but she had to go up there. She crawled around in the dank corners of the roof, quickly finding the box of decorations, and the massive container holding their terribly posh, artificial tree.
Marsh was vehemently against any living tree being cut down and left to die slowly in a corner of his house, covered in baubles and tinsel. He thought it macabre and cruel. Until he met Sal, he’d had an ancient, plastic one that he and the girls would decorate so heavily, it didn’t matter that it had seen better days. She had insisted during the first Christmas they were together that they invest in a new, bushy artificial tree and sparkling new decorations. Since then, every time they had gone somewhere new with the band, she had shopped for a Christmas bauble. This wasn’t always easy in the summer months and in some countries, but she’d been surprised that she had managed to find one in most places.
Sal managed to drag the boxes to the hatch, lower them as far as she could down the ladder, and then drop them to the ground. If Lawrence hadn’t taken refuge in the garden as soon as she’d opened the loft hatch, he would have gone crashing through the cat flap at that point. She descended carefully after them, before going to retrieve Lawrence from his hiding place behind the shed.
*****
Thursday came around in a flash, and Sal congratulated herself on the state of the house. She’d scrubbed, cleaned and decorated it with every ounce of energy she had, for three days straight. It looked like Santa’s grotto, with twinkling fairy lights and their seven-foot tree, which was tastefully bedecked with a few strategically-placed pieces of tinsel and lots of baubles reflecting memories of happier times. She was proud of herself for getting up the ladder to decorate the top – it was usually lanky Marsh who did that.
She lost herself in the memories of places they’d been as she’d hung the baubles on every available branch. She felt a mixture of happy reminiscing and painful acknowledgement that there might not be any more baubles collected.
Their mantelpiece was draped in stars, and it also housed their stockings, which were hung in readiness for Christmas Eve. Each stocking bore one name: Marsh, Sallie, Blue, Alex and Lawrence. She had gone to great lengths to embroider their names on plain stockings that first Christmas, as Alex was the only one who had a relatively common name.
Sal had got used to people spelling her name with a ‘y’ her whole life, but she liked that hers was unusual. She’d got over-excited on
the only time she’d found a mug with Sallie already painted on it, and it remained one of her most prized possessions.
The Christmas tablecloth and runner had been put out ready for the spread of goodies. The candle holder was covered in real-looking plastic ivy, with little poinsettia flowers around it. In the centre was a fresh, giant-sized, cinnamon-scented candle and she set the decorations in the middle of the dining table. It all looked a dream. She’d pushed the boat out this year, and forced herself to go out to get some ingredients to bake her own pastry treats, as well as buying an impressive array of chocolates, sweets, biscuits, twiglets, crisps and soft drinks. Now the girls were 18 and 19, she’d bought a couple of bottles of Bucks Fizz too, which she intended to doctor up with extra Champagne, and of course, she had remembered the compulsory bottle of Amaretto for Marsh.
Sal was dragged out of her memory-fest by a knock at the front door.
“Wow, you’ve been busy!” Jess exclaimed with wide-eyed surprise as she walked in. Although she’d stopped bringing regular meals over, she handed Sal a homemade lasagne, together with a wrapped present and card.
“I thought this might be useful if the girls are coming? You can always freeze it, if not.”
Sal didn’t need any more food, but she was grateful to her friend for being so thoughtful. She understood that it was simply a ploy for Jess to check on her. A bit obvious, but still sweet.
“Oh Jess, you didn’t need to, but thanks, that’s so kind.”
Jess sniffed the air, “Cor, it smells lovely in here, even without my lasagne!”
“Thanks – I want it to be perfect, so I’m glad you can smell it. It’s a mix of Christmas-scented pot pourri, and a cinnamon candle.”
“Crikey. I knew you’d been cleaning like a demon for a couple of days, but this is wonderful. Have you really done all this decorating yourself?” Jess looked around, incredulous.
“Yup! Just me and a ladder. It’s been good; it’s given me something to focus on, other than … you know. He’s coming over tomorrow to help me do it, but I figured we could talk instead.”
“Well, I’m proud of you, it’s beautiful. What time is he coming ‘round? And do you know what’s going on yet?”
“About 3ish. I’ve made all the pastry bits today too, so I’ll bake them tomorrow morning. I don’t know what to think, though; it’s so confusing with texts coming in every day. I thought I wouldn’t hear from him.”
Considering he’d left her, Marsh was being surprisingly loving and kind. But Sal wasn’t sure whether that was because he was missing her, regretting what he’d done and wanting to come home, or because he was feeling guilty – maybe he’d decided that he wasn’t coming back to stay? Sal had tried not to think about it and had put all of her energy into cleaning and decorating.
“Sal, try to forget everything for a few days and enjoy Christmas,” Jess said, feeling at home enough to pour herself a small sherry from one of the many bottles that were lined up on the sideboard. “Have a lovely time with him and the girls for what it is. Christmas is a time to forgive and forget for a couple of days. Get this down you,” she grinned as she poured one for Sal.
Sal knew that Jess didn’t mean to come across as insensitive most of the time. She also knew that Jess had listened to her moan every single day since that awful moment she’d found out about Marsh’s ‘activities’. It must have been hard for Jess to be there for her. She was right, too, it was a chance for Sal to shelve everything, and focus on the girls and on having a lovely time.
“To fabulous Christmases!” Jess declared, shoving the sherry into Sal’s hands, and holding up her own glass in a toast.
“Thanks. Cheers!” Sal declared, taking a long glug.
“Are you two giving presents to each other tomorrow?” Jess asked, knowing that they usually exchanged one gift each on Christmas Eve, while the girls opened theirs.
“Well, I expect we are considering I’d already brought and wrapped his before all this happened, and I know that he’d been shopping. I don’t know about that for sure, though, and I don’t care if I don’t get a present in return, but it’ll be very telling if he doesn’t give me anything.” Sal’s face dropped slightly at the thought.
“Wait and see what happens, Sal,” Jess said calmly. “I’m proud of you. Most people would have kicked him out, changed the locks, and told him never to come back. But you know what you want and it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks.”
“I don’t know if I’ll want him back, even if he decides he wants to come. I guess it’ll depend on how long it takes him to make the decision. But don’t forget, it’s his house – there’s no way I’d consider locking him out, even though I have lived here for years. I’ll see what he says and then decide how I feel about it.”
“See? You’re so strong. People get you wrong, y’know, thinking you’re wet…”
Sal glanced at Jess. “Wet? Do they?” she asked, quite hurt at the thought.
Jess ignored her and ploughed on. “…you’re not. You loved him so much before all this didn’t you? It’s a powerful thing, real love.”
“You know I did. And I still do. He’s the same person, but he’s acting out of character. I mean, he’s never been nasty, like David was. Marsh says he’s left because he needs some time on his own. At least with Maire being in another country I know that she’s not camped out with him at Doug’s, though they’ll be texting.”
“Yeah, I know how powerful texting can be, but I also know that they’re not necessarily real feelings,” Jess said. “They feel real at the time, but people can get carried away on email and text, and say things they don’t mean. Marsh loves you in his own way, and if you’re sure you want him, hang onto that. It’s obviously some sort of mid-life crisis he’s having ... a bit late, but still. He’s going to be running a whole gamut of emotions at the moment.”
Sal was sitting holding her knees against her as protection. “Well so am I. It might be a crisis thing, but I don’t care if he’s feeling all kinds of emotions – he’s got himself into this. I don’t know how I’ve coped with it all so far. I do love him but he’s hurt me so much, and more than that, I trusted him when he promised me that he’d never be unfaithful. He PROMISED me.”
She’d worked herself up and the fire in Sal’s eyes and the near-yell of that last word surprised Jess. She was relieved to see that it was time for her to leave, so, adding her present to the collection under the tree, she went give Sal a long hug.
“You’ll be okay, I promise. Have a Merry Christmas, Sal. Thank-you for looking after me so well these past few months. I’ll be glad to see the back of 1999. It stinks.”
“Me too. And thank you, too. Have a good ‘un. Oh! Don’t forget your present.” Sal fetched her gift from under the tree and thrust it into her hand.
Having waved Jess off, Sal sat down, exhausted. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.
8
By 2.00pm on Christmas Eve, Sal was dressed in her favourite outfit, including lace-topped silk stockings. She rarely wore that kind of thing, but she felt wonderful with them on. She peeked out of the window into the heavy rain and wind, while carols played on the stereo. Despite everything, she felt quite festive.
Up since 8.00am, she’d finished off the baking that she’d started the day before. Soon, the decorated table was laden with sausage rolls, brandied mince pies and cinnamon whirls, along with all the other goodies she’d bought.
She’d spent ages putting on make-up because she needed to feel her best for her own sake. Not for Marsh. Definitely not for him.
She didn’t care that Marsh would know she had made an effort because he was aware that she only ever wore make-up on special occasions. He knew she loved him and the girls, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that she wanted to look nice for Christmas.
She had only just sat down, having given up at the window, when Marsh’s car turned onto the driveway. She forced herself to stay seated until she heard his key turn in the lock. He knocke
d before he came through the door, which broke her heart because it was his house, but then he bowled in with a big grin, windblown, dripping and weighed down with carrier bags that were bursting with carefully wrapped boxes.
“Hey, fella!” he exclaimed to Lawrence who was, unusually, rubbing against Marsh’s legs despite being dripped on. Reaching down, he stroked him warmly. “I’ve missed you, ya furry little fluffball.”
He looked up and grinned broadly at Sal. “Wow, Pumpkin, this place looks amazing, it must’ve taken you hours! Wasn’t I supposed to be coming over to help you do it? And the food! Do I really have to wait ‘til the girls are here?”
She blushed, but wished he had noticed the effort she’d made with herself too. She deliberately ignored the fact that he was calling her ‘Pumpkin’ again, but it had lost its meaning for her. “Yes, you do have to wait; I don’t want it decimated by the time they arrive. Haven’t you eaten lunch?”
“Yes, of course,” he laughed. “But this looks incredible! You’ve outdone yourself this time, babe.” He made his way over to her, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her full on the mouth, long and deep. It quite took her aback, and she almost went to push away from him, but she found she was enjoying it. “Is that lasagne I can smell?” he murmured.
“Yes, but it’s one Jess made, not one of mine. What are you doing tomorrow? I’ve got food in but you still haven’t said. I do need to know, now.”
Marsh looked at her with what she could only imagine was panic in his eyes. “Why, do you have other plans?”
Sal paused, enjoying his fleeting expression. “No, but I was thinking of seeing if Mel, Jess and Adam fancy coming over if you’re not going to be here. There’s a lot of food and I can’t eat it all myself.”
She watched as he visibly relaxed. “Well, if you’ll have me, I’d love to spend Christmas Day with you. I haven’t made any other plans, and I want to spend it here with you and Fluffball. We can invite your sister round if you like, but I’d rather not have a house full. I want to be able to chill out.”