Christmas Lights

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Christmas Lights Page 12

by Amelia Andrews


  “Is there anything I can do?” Kay asked.

  “No, I’ll talk to her. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, I’m used to this.”

  “Oh, you frequently bed young left-voting activists?” Millie teased.

  “Yes,” Kay joked back. “They make excellent lovers.”

  Millie felt a rush of desire shooting through her. She wished she’d stayed the night before. None of this would have happened and right now she’d be in Kay’s arms.

  “It’s too early in the morning for me to come up with a witty retort,” Millie said. “I’m going to go and deal with Claire. I’ll call you later?”

  “I look forward to it. I’m sorry, again.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Millie reassured her. “Besides, this solves the messy question of how we let people know about us.”

  Kay laughed. “Oh, always looking on the bright side!”

  Mille got dressed, got some coffee, and then knocked on Claire’s bedroom door. She assumed the mumbled response was an invitation to come in. Either way, she was going in.

  “Hey,” she greeted.

  Claire was on her bed, nose in her phone and angrily swiping the screen.

  “Sorry, no right-wing nazi’s allowed in here,” Claire said without looking up.

  Ouch, Millie thought.

  “Good thing I’m not one of them.” Millie sat at the chair in front of Claire’s desk and sipped her coffee. “I’m sleeping with Kay Nightingale. It’s still really new, but I really like her. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was worried that something like this would happen.”

  Claire looked up at her, eyes red from crying. “Why… her?”

  Millie ignored the venom that dripped from the word her. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I didn’t like her much at first. But then we just suddenly came together in this toe-tingling kiss.”

  “So, it’s physical?” Claire asked.

  “It started that way,” Millie agreed. Her mind flashed back to the back seat of Kay’s car. “But that’s not all it is. It’s fast, super fast, I know. But I’ve gotten to know her. She’s not what the papers make her out to be. I know you’re angry that I lied, and I’m really sorry that I kept this from you. But I… she’s… she’s really important to me.”

  Claire stared at her in confusion. “I don’t get it,” she finally whispered.

  “I don’t either,” Millie admitted with a chuckle. “Seriously, I always thought I’d be the last person sleeping with someone like Nightingale. But there’s something between us. She makes me happy.”

  Claire tossed her phone onto the bed and rubbed at her eyes. “You did look happy when you got home last night.”

  “I was. We spent most of the day together. We laughed, shared stories, she cooked lunch… damn can she cook.”

  “That’s good, because you can certainly eat,” Claire joked.

  Millie laughed. “Yeah, I can.” She paused. “Forgive me?”

  Claire silently nodded. “I’m sorry for what I said. For overreacting like that. I just… her. And you… lied to me.”

  “I know. I know,” Millie said. “I felt so bad. Believe me. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know what this was. I didn’t want to say something and then we stopped seeing each other the next day. I was waiting to see what was going to happen between us.”

  “And now?” Claire asked.

  “You know me, head first.”

  Claire blinked. “You… love her?”

  Millie shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I think I’m on the way to it, yeah. It’s just… weird. It’s all happened really fast. And we shouldn’t work, but we really do.”

  Claire let out a long sigh. “Okay. If she hurts you—”

  “You’ll hate her more than you already do?” Millie asked with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, like, double hate her.” Claire laughed.

  “I think you’d like her if you got to know her,” Millie ventured.

  Claire held up her hands. “Let me just get used to the idea of you dating her. Yeah?”

  Millie nodded. “Sure, I’ll work on you later? Are we okay?”

  Claire looked at her seriously. “Does she make you happy?”

  Millie smiled widely. “So happy.”

  “Well, then I forgive you for lying. Do you forgive me for what I said?”

  Millie nodded. Claire jumped off the bed and they met in a fierce hug. Millie’s felt relief pulse through her. She didn’t want to argue with her best friend. Knowing that Claire was somewhat on her side was a huge load off and would help her deal with whatever came next.

  “You can tell the others,” Claire mumbled into her hair.

  “Joy,” Millie quipped.

  Chapter 33

  Kay sat in the comfortable leather office chair in her home office, eyes closed and attempting to relax after one of the most trying days she could recall.

  She’d spent the entire day on the phone, either telling journalists that she had no comment, or explaining to colleagues that she wasn’t having a midlife crisis.

  Fair weather friends who she barely ever heard from were suddenly back in touch, trying to get some juicy gossip from her.

  It had been utterly exhausting.

  The only bright point was the text messages she got from Millie in between everything else. Little messages designed to make her smile, telling her that she was by her side, and that everything would be okay.

  Kay sighed. She hadn’t had time to process her own feelings on her burgeoning relationship with Millie and now the whole world knew about it.

  She liked Millie. A lot. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t at all right for the young woman. They were from very different worlds and surely on a collision course? She hated the idea that she might end up hurting Millie, likely through just being herself.

  Because the truth was, she was falling for Millie at an astonishing speed. Kay was used to making decisions, often making them quickly and without looking back. Often the decisions were something to do with budgets and project timelines. Now it seemed that her heart had the same quick-fire reactive ability.

  Her thoughts were distracted by the doorbell. She opened her eyes and glanced at her wristwatch. It was seven in the evening and she had no idea who it may be.

  But she did know that there were some journalists camped outside.

  She stood up and fluffed her hair, hoping that she looked somewhat presentable.

  When she opened the front door she was more than pleasantly surprised to see Millie. She looked adorable with a thick, hooded jacket and a rucksack on her back.

  “Hey, sorry for not calling. I wanted it to be a surprise.” Millie flashed her a bright grin. “Also, sorry you’re being stalked by the journalists. I guess you’re kind of a big deal.”

  Kay glanced up at the photographers who were training their lenses on them. “They seem to think so.”

  “Want to give them a show?” Millie asked.

  Kay bit her lip and then nodded. She ducked her head and kissed Millie. She heard the sounds of cameras clicking.

  Millie laughed. “That should tide them over, can I come in?”

  “Of course.” Kay stood to one side, eager to get Millie inside and out of the cold. “Did you walk here?”

  “Yep.”

  “You should have called, I would have gotten you. Or called you a taxi.”

  Millie was shrugging out of her outer clothes. “Yeah, about that… I’m sorry.”

  Kay frowned. “Whatever for?”

  “It was the taxi driver who took the pictures,” Millie explained.

  “Yes, I know,” Kay said. “I could tell from the angle.”

  She took Millie’s winter wear and hung it in the closet, gesturing for her to join her in the sitting room. It faced the back garden and she knew it would offer them some privacy.

  “If I’d told my flatmate about you from the start, I wouldn’t have been worried abo
ut her seeing us together,” Millie said. “I wouldn’t have needed to get a taxi, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Kay put her hand on Millie’s arm, stopping her and turning Millie to face her. “This is not your fault. It’s the driver’s fault. The paper’s fault. Social media’s fault. But not yours. You hear me?”

  Millie looked uncertain. “Well, I still feel guilty. I got you a gift.” She tilted her head down to indicate her rucksack.

  “Well, you’re absolutely right, you’re completely to blame. Where’s my gift?” Kay joked.

  They entered the sitting room and Kay sat on one end of the sofa and Millie sat next to her. It was becoming second nature to sit on the sofa with Millie. From unexpected sexual encounters to watching a movie. Had it really been so short a period of time? It felt like weeks already.

  Millie handed her a wrapped rectangle that looked very much like a book.

  “You didn’t need to do this,” Kay told her as she took the present.

  “You haven’t opened it yet,” Millie joked.

  Kay unwrapped the paper and laughed loudly as Margaret Thatcher’s face appeared through the ripped paper. “Oh come on,” she cried. “I’m not that bad!”

  Millie laughed.

  Kay took the rest of the paper off the unauthorised biography of one of Britain’s most controversial Prime Ministers. “You’re a beast,” she joked.

  “I did have another gift,” Millie said.

  “Hitler’s Diaries?” Kay asked dryly.

  Millie shook her head. She grabbed the edge of her top and quickly pulled it over her head. She wore a black, lace bustier that had Kay’s eyes popping out of her head. She’d seen Millie’s body before, but there was something about the tight lace which held her in place and presented gorgeous mounds of light flesh for her.

  “Wanna help me out of this?” Millie asked innocently.

  Kay licked her dry lips and nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

  Millie gestured to her rucksack. “I have a change of clothes and some toiletries. You know, in case you wanted me to stay?”

  “Please stay,” Kay said quickly, her hand already on one of the straps of the bustier.

  “Maybe we can make love in an actual bed?” Millie teased. “Or do you want to ravish me here on the sofa again?”

  “Can’t we do both?” Kay suggested.

  “Kay?” Millie said, her voice breathless.

  “Yes?”

  “Fuck me, please, fuck me.”

  Kay swallowed, there was so much love and need in the tone. She pulled Millie into a kiss, swiftly using her tongue to swipe at Millie’s in a way she hoped very soon to be doing to another part of Millie’s body.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she suggested. “Just in case there are any photographers lurking around the back.”

  Millie nodded in agreement. She jumped to her feet and grabbed her bag and her top. “Show me the way.”

  Chapter 34

  Millie stared at her computer monitor and secretly hoped for a fire, an earthquake, an alien invasion. Anything at all. Anything to stop the most awkward work day of her entire life.

  When she’d first arrived, everyone had just silently stared at her. The oppressive silence had continued for two long hours until someone finally spoke to her. That was to ask if she was only sleeping with Kay to blackmail her at a later date.

  Millie had been shocked that someone honestly thought she would sleep with Kay in order to try to get a Christmas tree for the town. Millie didn’t have great self-esteem but it was better than that.

  When she had explained that wasn’t her game plan at all, the person looked at her with utter confusion and then walked away.

  Just after lunch, she had a text message from Laura requesting that she no longer attends any of the protests as she couldn’t be sure where Millie’s loyalties were.

  Millie had considered texting back but she didn’t know if she even wanted to join any of the protests. Especially now she knew that people were joining the protests for their own violent gains. She didn’t want to get hurt, or be responsible for someone else getting hurt.

  “She must be pretty good in bed,” someone muttered behind her.

  Millie turned around and stared at the man she’d never met before.

  “I mean, for you to put up with all of this,” he explained.

  Millie continued to stare at him.

  He raised his hands. “Okay, okay, just trying to find a bright side.” He walked away.

  She shook her head. “Creep,” she muttered.

  Joanna wheeled her chair a little closer. “I’m sorry about all of this,” she whispered. “People just really hate Nightma—Nightingale around here. You could have had an affair with Lucifer and gotten a much better reaction.”

  “So I’m gathering,” Millie said, sighing.

  “It will blow over,” Joanna said. “Until the next news story about her.”

  “Millie? Can I borrow you a minute?” Christoph asked as he walked over to her desk.

  “Sure,” she replied brightly. She didn’t want him to know that the silent treatment was bothering her.

  “I was wondering if you could help in the store cupboard? We need to do a stock check on all the leaflets and stationery, you have a great eye for detail.”

  “Umm.” Millie looked at the spreadsheet on her screen.

  “That can wait,” he reassured her.

  There was no doubt about it, Millie was being moved to somewhere quiet. Somewhere she could get away from the looks and the silence, and somewhere out of the way to allow the team to talk about her behind her back.

  It really was a terrible, awful day.

  Millie left work exactly on time. No staying late to count pens in the cupboard. The worse part was the lack of mobile signal in the storage cupboard, which happened to be located in the basement.

  She’d spent the last few hours of the day alone and cold, with no chance to text Kay and try to cheer herself up.

  She knew Christoph wasn’t punishing her. In fact, he seemed to want to help by taking her out of the situation. Much like a teacher removes a bullied child from the group.

  Unfortunately, it was entire the wrong thing to do. All it meant was that Millie was suffering and the team got to talk shit about her behind her back.

  When she walked back into the flat, Claire had Christmas music blaring and entered the hallway with a handful of tinsel, wearing one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters Millie had ever seen.

  Millie couldn’t keep it in any longer, she simply burst into tears.

  Claire dropped the tinsel and ran over. “Mil? What’s up?”

  “I had a horrible day,” she mumbled as Claire swept her into a hug. “Everyone was so fucking mean.”

  “Oh, honey.” Claire held her tightly. “I’m so sorry. Get out of your coat, I’ll get you some mulled wine and we can bitch about them. Okay?”

  Millie nodded an agreement. She didn’t know where her sudden outburst had come from. Probably built up from having a wonderful evening with Kay and then a horrible day without her. The contrast was stark and Millie was exhausted.

  She took off her winter wear and kicked off her boots. In the kitchen, Claire had poured her a large glass of mulled wine from the saucepan. She added a slice of orange and a cinnamon stick and handed it to Millie.

  “Was it about Kay?” Claire asked.

  “Yeah. Someone actually asked if I was screwing her so I could blackmail her. Can you believe that?” Millie sipped some of the warm wine.

  “I can, actually,” Claire said. “People hate her.”

  “I don’t get it,” Millie replied. “She’s actually really nice.”

  Claire laughed as she poured herself some mulled wine. “Maybe her body is really nice but I doubt she is from what I’ve heard.”

  “Then you’re hearing the wrong things,” Millie told her.

  “Am I?” Claire quizzed, the smirk on her face told Millie that she suspected she
was right and Millie was wrong. As if she thought that Millie had been blinded by Kay’s looks.

  The damn broke. Millie told her everything. She explained about funding cuts from Westminster, the enormous amounts of money that were lost overnight. Kay’s decisions between the children’s hospital and the homeless crisis. She passed on everything that Kay had told her about the state of things in Bromford.

  Services that she had managed to save, despite being told that it was impossible. Cutting costs throughout all levels of council services, eliminating waste so that every penny went towards vital services. She explained the homeless centre that was being built, the expansion to the hospital, the new car park, the increase in recycling, everything. All of it come flooding out of her. She needed Claire to see what she did. Kay wasn’t Nightmare Nightingale. She was Kay Nightingale, a person up against a wall of hateful propaganda but still trying to do her best.

  When she was done, pacing and ranting, she stopped and took a deep breath. She looked up to see Claire staring at her with an open mouth.

  “But… what… that is not what I hear at all,” Claire admitted.

  “I know, it’s the paper. They twist everything she does. They refuse to quote her and her team properly. They won’t print her press release statements. They have it in for her,” Millie explained.

  Claire gritted her teeth. “Jonathan Morris.”

  “Who?”

  “He’s the editor of the paper,” Claire explained. “I heard once that he had a vendetta against Nightingale, I never believed it though. The press is supposed to be unbiased, right?”

  “Why would he have a vendetta against Kay?” Millie asked.

  “I’m hearing this third hand,” Claire said. “But I heard it was because she turned him down when he asked her out. Which makes sense now I know she’s gay.”

  Millie shook her head with anger. “So, he’s now making up shit about her?”

  “He isn’t making up stuff,” Claire corrected. “It’s worse. He is twisting things. If he just made stuff up, it could be discredited. But he is taking the truth and putting his own spin on it. Little rat.”

 

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