‘Fine,’ she said, standing up. ‘We can be civil, but that’s it. I meant what I said at Somerset House.’
‘I know.’ He stood up and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he looked at her. ‘Like I said, message received loud and clear.’
His voice sounded monotone and matter-of-fact, but instead of feeling relieved at his apparent acceptance, Effie felt a flash of disappointment. She looked back at him and told herself to get a grip. This was exactly what she’d wanted from the moment he’d got back, and he was finally playing along.
She nodded. ‘Good.’
‘Good.’ He nodded back.
She stalked past him, swinging the door open and not even caring that it nearly hit him in the face. Bloody Smith.
After her disastrous day at work, she took herself off to get her Christmas shopping done. It was a bad idea. Thanks to Smith, she was in a foul mood. He’d shocked her out of her skin, showing up in the office like that.
‘So, I heard you’ve got a new colleague. Mickey just told me,’ Lou said.
Effie held the phone in her hand as she toyed with the price tag on the Ted Baker jumper. Oliver would look amazing in it, which wouldn’t be difficult. He looked amazing in pretty much everything.
‘Apparently, Doug asked him in to help out with A&R. He’s like a bad smell that won’t go away.’
‘It’s hardly surprising, though. He did used to be a DJ, and he’s massively into music. He knows a heap of people.’
Effie rolled her eyes. ‘Well, yes, of course he does. He spent every weekend getting high with them, remember?’
‘So, I guess now’s a good time to tell you he’s coming to Ireland.’
A frustrated sigh left Effie’s mouth, and she dropped the price tag on the sweater. ‘You have got to be having a laugh.’
‘Well, it would’ve been hard to leave him out, not to mention unfair,’ Lou pointed out. ‘What difference does it make anyway? You’ll be with Olly, and you’ve told Smith to stay away. It’s not like he’s going to pounce on you.’
Effie moved out of the way as someone else picked up one of the sweaters and took it straight to the till. It did make a difference. It made all the difference in the world.
‘I’ve got to go and get dinner on,’ Lou said. ‘Good luck with your shopping. We’ll catch up soon.’
Lou blew a kiss down the phone and hung up, and Effie left the shop feeling deflated. So far, she hadn’t seen anything she even remotely liked that came within her measly budget. Oliver had offered to set her up with an allowance, but she’d turned it down. Having an allowance from your husband seemed to be like travelling back sixty years, and she didn’t like the idea of him effectively paying for his own Christmas present. She had her own income, as meagre as it felt.
She meandered through the crowds of shoppers, scrolling through her phone to check her bank balance, just in case some money had magically appeared. It hadn’t. Sliding into an empty chair in the rest area, she sighed. The mere fact that a shopping centre had to have rest areas depressed her. She’d never needed a rest from shopping in her life. Everyone else seemed to have a minimum of five bags each, and she could only begin to imagine the cumulative cost of them all. She’d wanted this year to be different. She’d wanted to shower Oliver with gifts.
How would Smith be spending Christmas?
She scowled at the unwelcome way Smith had popped into her head. It was bad enough, him turning up unannounced at her wedding and Somerset House, but at work? It was such a small team, she wouldn’t be able to avoid him, and even though he’d apparently accepted that she wanted him to stay away, it wasn’t him she was worried about. It was herself. Smith had been perfectly professional after they’d left the meeting room, following her around as she familiarised him with the building, policies and processes, all while she’d tried not to re-familiarise herself with his smell, the way he ran his fingers through his hair, or the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
She’d been getting on with her life until he’d come back, and now it felt like it was spiralling out of control. As far as she was concerned, her anger at him was wholly justified. What she didn’t understand was why the idea of him being in Ireland made her skin ripple in a way that was disturbingly on the border of being pleasurable.
From the day she’d met Oliver, she’d never looked back. He’d showered her with flowers and gifts and taken her on thoughtful dates. And when he’d knelt on the scuffed lino floor of her kitchen, offering her a ring a month later, she hadn’t hesitated in saying yes. So why was she looking back now?
She shook her head again. She wasn’t looking back – that was wrong. She was being pulled back, and she didn’t want to be. She had a good life with Oliver, and everything had been moving along quite nicely until Smith had shown up with that bloody face of his.
The lead-up to Christmas was turning out to be much more fraught than she wanted it to be. Her mum’s parting words hadn’t helped either, and, as predicted, she hadn’t heard a peep from her since. It was probably for the best anyway. Her mum and Smith were too negative, and she didn’t want that around her – not now that she had Oliver. He was everything her mum and Smith weren’t. He considered her all the time, picking her up and dropping her off and cooking her dinner whenever he got home from work early enough. Even his offer of an allowance seemed to come from a good place, however uncomfortable it made her feel. Being with him made her feel secure and calm. It made her feel like an adult, whereas being around her mum and Smith made her regress to a sulky teenager who knew nothing about the world or what relationships meant. With Oliver, she was learning all the time, and regardless of what Penny and Smith thought, she was one hundred per cent sure she’d made the right decision to marry him.
‘One hundred and ten per cent,’ Effie said aloud.
The woman sitting next to her turned and looked at her. ‘I’m sorry?’
Effie blushed. ‘Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud.’
The woman smiled tightly and turned herself away a fraction, moving the Gucci and Karen Millen bags sat next to her legs with her. Effie twisted the platinum wedding ring on her finger. Oliver was her husband. He didn’t deserve to be doubted by the mother-in-law who barely even knew him, and he didn’t deserve to have his wife thinking about someone else, especially when that someone was Smith. She stood up and walked quickly back to Ted Baker.
7.
Thanks, baby, I love it.’ Oliver smiled and kissed her on the mouth. She’d been right to go back to Ted Baker after all. ‘Happy Christmas.’
Effie smiled as she took the small box from him and unwrapped it. The smile gave way to a grin when she saw the duck-egg blue Tiffany box. The man had taste.
She picked up the sterling silver bracelet. It would look perfect with her platinum drop earrings, the ones Oliver had bought her when she agreed to move in with him.
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Here, let’s put it on.’ He went to undo the clasp of her charm bracelet and Effie frowned.
‘I don’t need to take that one off.’ She held her other wrist out towards him. ‘Put it on this one.’
‘Baby,’ Oliver said with a lopsided smile. ‘No offence, but you can’t wear a Tiffany bracelet on one hand and that thing on the other.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’ She frowned again, looking at the charm bracelet. Okay, so it wasn’t expensive, but she’d had it for years.
‘It’s tacky. And the jangling noise it always makes is a little annoying.’
Effie touched the tiny butterfly charm Smith had bought for her the Christmas before. It sat nicely with the heart from Lou, the feather from her mum and the angel from Mickey. She’d never taken it off before, but when she looked at Oliver, holding the shiny Tiffany bracelet, she could see how it would look mismatched to wear them both.
‘This,’ Oliver said,
taking her wrist and working the clasp of her charm bracelet, ‘will look so much better.’
Effie didn’t say anything as she watched the charm bracelet fall from her wrist and onto the floor. It was only a bracelet, and it wasn’t like she was throwing it away. It was simply making way for something else. Besides, she was a married twenty-five-year-old, not a teenager. She was finally growing up into the life she’d always wanted. What was the point in hanging on to things from the past? Oliver fastened the new one around her wrist, and she picked up her charm bracelet off the floor and put it on the coffee table. She’d put it away somewhere safe later.
‘Thanks,’ she said, remembering to smile. It really was beautiful, and while it didn’t have the sentimental value of her old one, it held the promise of so much more.
‘You’re welcome. You know I only want the very best for you, baby.’
He kissed her lips again before giving her a glass of champagne. The bracelet felt heavy on her wrist, surely a sign of its worth and hopefully a sign that the thunderous mood Oliver had been in for the last few days was finally gone. He’d got a new client who was up for fraud to the tune of hundreds of thousands of pounds, and she’d been worried that his short, snappy temper would carry on through the Christmas break, but he’d practically bounced out of bed that morning to shower her with gifts: perfume, jewellery, an e-book reader and a new pair of Uggs to replace her old ones. Add that to the presents from his family, and she’d been totally overwhelmed.
‘Who’s this one from?’ Oliver asked, stretching behind the tree to pick up the last of the presents. ‘There’s no label on it. Must be yours.’
He didn’t need to say why; it was obvious. The newspaper it had been wrapped in was written in Hindi. It was obviously from her mum. She must’ve hidden it there before she’d left.
Effie frowned, but after opening the parcel, her throat choked. Inside the box was a long gold necklace with five peacock feathers hanging from the end. She’d seen one like it once when her mum had taken her to France for the summer holidays and had pointed it out. She’d remembered all these years later.
‘Who’s it from?’ Oliver asked.
‘Mum.’
‘Bit OTT, isn’t it? Sweet of her, though.’
Effie shrugged and put it back in the box. It was lovely, but really, when would she ever be able to wear it? Halloween, maybe.
‘I’ll call her later and say thanks,’ she said and sipped her champagne. ‘Have you called your mum yet?’
‘I’ll do it later on,’ he said and leaned over, his mouth inches away from hers. ‘For now, I want to get my last present.’
Effie looked under the tree. It was empty, but when she saw the twinkle in his eye, she grinned. She loved Christmas.
‘I’ll just call Izzy,’ Oliver said, hitting ‘Pause’ on the remote. ‘She’ll go mad if I don’t.’
Effie nodded and uncorked yet more wine, as if they hadn’t had enough already. She hadn’t anticipated that they’d spend Christmas day alone, but Izzy had taken her husband, Tom, to spend the day with their dad, and when Effie had suggested that they do the same, Oliver wasn’t having any of it. Still, it had worked out nicely. They’d had a quiet but romantic morning, and being at home meant they could settle down and watch It’s A Wonderful Life. Clichéd maybe, but it was something Effie had always wanted to do, and Oliver seemed happy to indulge her.
She looked over at him as he leaned against the kitchen island while he spoke with his sister on the phone. He looked back and shook his head, holding his hand up and tapping his thumb against his fingers. She didn’t need him to point out that Izzy was nattering away; Effie could hear it from the other end of the room. He really needed to turn the volume down on his phone.
‘It’s lovely, Izzy. Thank you,’ he said, looking down at the TAG Heuer watch on his wrist. ‘Yep, I spoke to her earlier. At least she’s got Stepdad to spend the day with.’
Effie poured the wine and thought about her own mum. She always used to celebrate Christmas, but Effie wasn’t so sure now. Did hippies celebrate it, or had she moved on to worshipping trees?
‘Yes, we got them.’ Oliver sighed and rubbed his forehead. ‘No . . . he can’t just buy his way out of things . . . No, I don’t want to speak to him.’
Effie grimaced and took a sip of her wine. There were no prizes for guessing who he was talking about, but it was Christmas. Whatever happened to goodwill to all men? She might not get on with her mum, but at least she’d called to thank her for the present. Okay, so she hadn’t been able to get through, but at least she’d tried.
‘Izzy wants you,’ Oliver said, handing her the phone before flopping next to her on the sofa.
‘Happy Christmas,’ Effie said, smiling into the phone as Oliver draped her legs over his.
‘Happy Christmas, sweetie.’ Izzy’s slurred voice came through on the other end. Effie frowned as Oliver took the glass from her hand and downed it in one go.
He looked at her and mouthed, ‘She’s pissed as a fart.’ Effie stifled a giggle. He wasn’t wrong.
‘I adore Christmas, don’t you? I’ve had a litre of champagne and eaten enough to feed an army,’ Izzy continued, and Effie laughed. She’d yet to see Izzy eat more than three mouthfuls of food. ‘How’s yours been?’
‘Lovely. We’re just about to watch a film. Thanks for the scarf, by the way – it’s beautiful.’
‘Don’t mention it. Oh, I do wish you two were here. The twins are nice, but I feel positively ancient.’
Effie could imagine that thirty-three-year-old Izzy probably wouldn’t have much in common with a pair of nineteen-year-olds, whether they were family or not.
‘Are you coming to our New Year’s party?’ Izzy asked. ‘Please say yes. It’s going to be extra special.’
Effie looked over at Oliver, and he nodded back. ‘Of course – we wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
‘And please try to drag my little brother out of that bad mood he’s in. Honestly, it’s intolerable.’ Izzy sighed with a heap of drama.
‘I hadn’t noticed,’ Effie lied, all too aware that he could hear everything Izzy said down the phone.
‘If only he’d try and make a bit more effort with Daddy, I’m sure he wouldn’t feel half as angry. It wouldn’t kill him to spend a day up here; it’s only once a year after all.’
Effie pressed the phone against her ear to protect Oliver from his sister’s words, but it was pointless. He had an almighty scowl on his face.
‘Anyway, sweetie, must dash. I’ll see you at the party.’
‘Never could handle her alcohol,’ Oliver said after Effie hung up and propped her feet up on his legs. ‘She turns into one of those “let’s put the world to rights” types after she’s had a few. It’s intensely annoying.’
He picked up the remote and pressed ‘Play’, signalling the end of the discussion, and they settled down to watch the film, but the images on the screen barely registered in Effie’s mind. His parents had divorced years ago, and while it must have been horrific to find out that their dad had not only cheated on their mum but had also fathered the twins, surely the grudge couldn’t go on forever. Effie’s mum had upped and left with barely a backward glance, and although it burned her inside, they still maintained some kind of relationship, however messed up it was. Couldn’t Oliver do the same, just like Izzy did? He was so self-assured, grown up and forgiving in seemingly every other part of his life, why couldn’t he be the same with his dad? Oliver sighed and sipped his wine. Apparently, he wasn’t focusing on the film either.
‘Are you okay?’ Effie asked.
‘Fine.’
He sighed again, and she looked at him as he absent-mindedly rubbed one of her feet.
‘Have you ever spoken to your dad about what he did?’
‘Why would I do that?’ he replied without looking at her.
&n
bsp; ‘Because it clearly affects you. It happened such a long time ago, I just wondered if maybe it’s time to try and put what happened behind you.’
He looked at her and scowled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It clearly makes you miserable. I know I’m not one to talk given my relationship with Mum, but it’s Christmas.’
Oliver sighed and looked back at the television. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about.’
Effie bit down on her lip. ‘But—’
Just as James Stewart’s car ploughed into a tree on the screen, Oliver pressed ‘Pause’ and looked at her.
‘Effie?’
She turned to face him, and a flicker of apprehension passed across her face at his monotone voice.
‘Please, drop it. It’s Christmas and we’ve had a great day. Don’t ruin it. Okay?’
Effie slowly nodded, and he squeezed a hand around her foot. She didn’t want to ruin Christmas, not when he’d gone so out of his way to make it perfect. It would be like their honeymoon all over again, and she wanted to play her part in making it perfect. Maybe she was being childish, expecting him to be able to open up about his dad. After all, she was pretty closed off herself when it came to her relationship with her mum sometimes.
‘Shall we carry on watching the film?’ he asked. ‘No more talk about messed-up families.’
‘Sure.’ Effie smiled and he returned it before turning back to the television and pressing ‘Play’.
‘Come here.’ Oliver stretched his arm out, inviting her to curl up next to him, and she folded herself into him. Being like this was exactly what she’d been looking forward to all day.
‘I’m sorry if I sounded short,’ he said and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. ‘It’s just annoying when Izzy starts banging on about making up with Dad. I really don’t want you to start doing the same.’
‘I won’t. I get what it’s like to have a parent who screws things up for you.’
‘Good. I don’t want their crap to start spoiling what we have.’
Love You Better Page 6