A Year of Second Chances

by kendra Smith

But it can’t happen. I do have commitments, and it would be just so, so wrong. I pull away and he looks shocked.

  ‘Sorry, Charlie, I didn’t mean to rush you, I just—’ He stares at me, touches me on the cheek as I watch the melting snowflakes in his hair glisten in the last rays of the late afternoon sun.

  ‘No, no it’s me – it’s, it’s complicated.’ I shake my head.

  ‘Someone else?’ He looks terrified.

  ‘No, no, it’s really—’ I shake my head ‘—tricky, that’s all.’

  ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘Let’s get you home; you must be cold.’ And with that he takes both my hands in his, blows warm air into them and rubs them as we wander back to the car. With that one, thoughtful gesture, I fall for him just a little bit more.

  39

  Dawn

  ‘Can you pluck these pheasants for me?’

  ‘Sorry – it’s a bit noisy in here – what did you say?’

  ‘Pluck these pheasants!’ She was shouting down the phone. The butcher didn’t seem to hear her. She was parked in the Waitrose car park, using her phone to do a list of jobs.

  ‘What, love?’

  ‘Pluck!’

  ‘Listen, I won’t have anyone speak to me like that! I know everyone’s stressed at Christmas, but—’

  ‘No, no!’ said Dawn, exasperated. ‘I have three brace of pheasants… I need you to pluck and dress them – please? Can you do it before Christmas?’

  ‘You do know it’s Christmas in three days? You will be hard pressed to find any butcher round here to pluck pheasants – give them to the foxes!’ And with that he hung up. Annoying man! Honestly! These blasted pheasants. Eric had been given them as a present from a client who owned a large estate. Eric had seemed chuffed to bits when he came home, dangling them upside down in his hand as Dawn nearly passed out and the cat hissed at them.

  It was the third butcher she had called. Suddenly she had an idea – she’d drive to the local butchers on the way home from school and use the personal touch. She really needed to get them done – she was relying on them as part of her Christmas dinner. She certainly couldn’t deal with them.

  Alice came bounding over after putting the trolley away and opened the door.

  ‘Hello, poppet, jump in. Mummy’s just on the phone.’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Hm?’

  ‘What’s in that bag?’

  Oh heavens, she’d forgotten that she’d popped the dead pheasants in her carrier bag in the back seat.

  ‘Nothing, darling, don’t look in there, will you? It’s um, a surprise!’

  Just then Victoria appeared by her car and knocked on the window. Blasted woman. She pressed the button to let the window down and tried her best to smile politely instead of doing what she wanted to do: which was putting the car into first gear and running over her pedicured feet.

  ‘Oh, hello, Dawn, all ready for Christmas?’

  Well, if you considered that she still had fourteen presents to buy, the turkey to collect and make stuffing for, all of Eric’s nephews to send stocking fillers to, a mother-in-law who was probably hiding her carving set in some faraway drawer this very moment, and six un-plucked dead birds in her car, then she was ready. Oh yes, a festive time like no other. No, she really wasn’t.

  ‘Yes, absolutely!’

  ‘Good for you! I’m just off to a special workshop on making Christmas Yule Logs, terrific woman who runs them – other half always likes them home-made! Maybe you should try it one year, brush up on your darling wholesome baking skills! Toddle-oo!’ She winked at Dawn and headed across the car park.

  Who says ‘toodle-oo’? Dawn watched as Victoria drove off in the silver Land Rover with personalised number plates: ‘VIC2’. She wondered what the ‘2’ was for. Second wife? Two-faced? Stop it! She giggled as images of the Waitrose ready-made Yule log she’d just bought settled on her brain and she smiled. Honestly, if home-making was an A level, that bloody woman would score an A*.

  ‘MUM!’

  ‘Sorry, darling, what’s wrong?’ She wheeled round quickly to find Alice in the back seat with tears streaming down her face and a listless pheasant cradled in her arms like a newborn baby. She was stroking its head. ‘They’re all floppy!’ She was looking quite pale. ‘Why aren’t they moving, Mummy? Give them some Calpol, quick!’

  ‘Well, darling, look, they are dead. Please put them back.’

  ‘Dead?’

  It was just then that Dawn remembered her daughter had announced to everyone last weekend that she was becoming vegetarian.

  ‘Mum, you killed the birdies! You’re… you’re a murderer! They died in the plastic bag. You’re always telling us not to play with plastic bags!’

  Perhaps this Christmas was going to be more fraught than she realised.

  40

  Charlie

  It can’t be morning. Please, no. The alarm is ringing in my ears and I swipe at it to turn it off. It falls on the floor. Damn. Peering at the display I see that it’s 7 a.m. I have slept in. The ‘snooze’ button has allowed me to do just that.

  I crawl out of bed, pull the curtains back and peek out of the window. He’s here. Patiently waiting outside on this misty, freezing morning. My heart lifts. I feared he might not come, somehow. I’ve had a fitful sleep, dreaming about kissing him, waking up hot, then when I fell back to sleep, I was caught in a snowdrift on my own.

  I drag myself into the bathroom. Gloria and I have agreed to do a special ‘Christmas clean’ before opening time at 9.30 a.m. Our boss wants it clean before the Christmas break. I can’t remember being this tired with Tyler, but then that was seventeen years ago. I look in the mirror at my ashen face and feel mildly sick. I splash water on my cheeks, clean my teeth and then apply a bit of tinted moisturiser, mascara and blusher. Better.

  When I get downstairs, I quickly text Daniel to say ‘2 mins’ – he sends his smiley face back to me. He’s got the heated seats on in the car when I clamber in, my breath billowing clouds of smoke.

  ‘How are you?’ He turns to look at me.

  ‘Need you ask? At this time?’ I grimace, and he yanks up the heating.

  ‘I got you this.’ He pulls a takeaway cup of coffee and croissant from a holder in the back and passes it to me.

  It’s the little things, always the little things. I smile.

  ‘Extra milk,’ he adds and I just want to hug him there and then, but something stops me.

  The journey’s quiet. Neither of us is in the mood to talk, especially after last time. But the silence is fine; it’s calm and lovely that we can sit like this. Or maybe he is thinking about last time we met – of why I couldn’t…

  My heart does a little lurch. I don’t know what to do. I am getting in deeper with Daniel and look forward so much to our time together – and yet – how will I explain everything to him? But I know I will. I know – at the right moment – I will explain it all to him. He’ll understand, won’t he? Once he knows the truth, about how desperate I was, about the money, about why it means so much to get out of debt and that I really have no choice. He gave me such a lovely look the last time we were in the car – sort of sad and happy.

  The roads are deserted, lit by the street lights, which are reflected like long orange ribbons across the glistening streets.

  Gloria’s already started when we get to Stockfields. ‘Hello, pet, my, you look washed out.’

  ‘I am.’ I nod, taking off my coat and putting on my apron. I sigh and haul the mop along the floor, watching the murky trail it leaves. Normally I’d be on my hands and knees, using kitchen towels, making sure there were no marks, but I just can’t face that today – I feel utterly drained and a bit nauseous, as it’s so early.

  It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, and I still have to get a few stocking fillers for Tyler. But I’m so pleased I’ve got him that camera.

  ‘C’mon, pet, I’ll do that – you go sit down.’

  ‘No, Gloria, it’s not fair, and I don’t want to lose my job…
Suzie won’t always be around to bail me out.’

  ‘You won’t lose your job, you silly ’nana, coz you won’t always be pregnant – and you won’t always be in the early part of pregnancy.’

  ‘Thanks Gloria.’ I gratefully sit down. I watch her whiz round with the duster, headphones in, dancing and jigging away to Robbie Williams. Eventually, she grabs the mop, disappears to get fresh water, and finishes off the floor. She sits down next to me on the sofa in the reception room and puts her hand on my knee.

  ‘You OK?’

  I nod. ‘And how’s that gorgeous driver chap of yours?’

  ‘Lovely, great, it’s just—’ And then I burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, heavens, pet, whatever’s the matter?’

  ‘Oh, Gloria, sorry, it’s just that I’m really falling for him, but I don’t think I can carry on hiding this from Daniel.’ I put my hand on my belly. ‘And I really want to – but he’s going to see a bump soon.’

  ‘Yes, he will. But hasn’t Suzie told him? And you can tell him, you know, it’s not against the law—’

  ‘I know, I know, but I’m not sure. I don’t think they discussed it. He didn’t seem to know… but maybe he does now, maybe she told him, but, then we—’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘When I asked him to pick up the camera I’d bought – we were up by Northview, up by Magnolia Drive…’ I trail off, remembering.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, at first he was just odd, that’s all. But then, well, then he kissed me.’

  Gloria nudges me with her elbow. ‘Get you! But isn’t that a good thing?’ She hands me a tissue and I sniff. ‘Oh, you poor darling, you’re full of hormones, pet – that’s all it is. Really.’

  ‘And there’s something else…’ I wipe my nose and wonder if I should tell Gloria about my guilty secret. ‘I’ve been to a maternity shop, looked at baby stuff – twice – and last time I bought a little bear.’

  There’s a look I can’t place that flits across Gloria’s face. Pity and kindness and sort of a motherly concern. ‘Listen, my girl, you’re allowed to look at baby stuff, you know. You are pregnant.’ I let Gloria wrap her arms around me.

  ‘Yes, but it’s not MY BABY!’ Suddenly I feel extremely angry.

  I can’t help all these emotions that are there, just right there, under the surface. I sniff, knowing in my heart of hearts that I’m exhausted not only by the pregnancy, but also by trying to hide what it has done – it’s just allowing all my deep-seated feelings to emerge – to bubble up, like lava, hot and furious, to the surface. I stare at Gloria, then stand up abruptly, run to the sink and throw up.

  Gloria comes over and rubs my back. ‘Oh, pet.’

  She makes me sit back down on the sofa and fetches me a glass of water.

  ‘It was just so nice in there, Gloria, do you know what I mean? I wanted to get some things for the baby. I know I shouldn’t feel like that but I’m beginning to…’

  ‘Only natural,’ she says, patting my hand. ‘But listen, my angel, you can’t get attached to it, you know?’ She doesn’t know the half of it.

  Gloria suddenly stands up straight next to me. ‘Look, Charlie, I don’t think you should sign anything until you’ve had the baby.’

  ‘I won’t, I can’t. Legally I give consent for the – what’s it called? Yes, the parental order – after six weeks, not before. So I do have time to think – but I’ve made up my mind, Gloria,’ I sniff. ‘I have to give the baby up straight away. It’s only fair… fair on Suzie, fair on everyone.’ My heart starts racing when I think about it. ‘But I’m not going to look at him. I mustn’t see him when he’s born.’

  ‘Him?’

  I turn to Gloria. ‘I feel like I’m having a boy.’ I wipe away a tear with the back of my hand. ‘Is that mad?’

  ‘No, my dear, not mad at all.’

  ‘It’s so hard, Gloria, but I’ve got no choice, I have to do this for the money – and Suzie is being totally neurotic about this pregnancy.’

  Gloria strokes my arm.

  ‘I’ve just paid for Tyler’s photography course – and the camera, so I’m skint. I told Suzie the money was for maternity stuff. She was really weird with me; in fact when she gave me some money the other day, she texted me later to say she might have to cut down on my spending. I’ve no idea what that’s all about – and Paul left another ‘present’ through the letterbox… I’ll only be able to pay him off if I go through with this pregnancy and the baby’s OK.’ The tears are well and truly streaming down my face now.

  ‘And Daniel…’ I roll my eyes. ‘What will he think? He already knows I’m a single mum – he’ll just think I’m up the duff again – in fact, the truth is worse: that I’m having a baby for cash.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ soothes Gloria.

  The truth is, that’s what I’m worried about the most. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. He makes me feel cared for, like he’s on my side. I’ve never experienced that before; it’s as if he’s my proper chance at happiness and I’m terrified of losing him.

  41

  Charlie

  There’s a text from Daniel on my phone. It’s Christmas Eve.

  Shall I pick you up later and we can buy a Christmas tree?

  I text back:

  What, a real one?

  Of course a real one! I will be there in 10. Dx

  I shout up to Tyler that I’m going out. Silence. He must have his headphones on, so I wander up the stairs to his room.

  ‘Tyler?’ He’s deep in thought on his bed, his face buried in his laptop. ‘Tyler, I’m going out, to get a tree!’ I can’t help the smile spreading across my face.

  He looks up and squints at me and pulls his earbuds out. ‘What?’

  ‘A tree, it is Christmas soon! And Santa won’t come unless there’s a tree!’

  ‘Sure, Mum, you feeling all right? I’m just finishing off these photo edits. Hey, but haven’t we got that tree under the stairs, the white one?’

  Every year I’ve dragged our little white plastic tree out from under the stairs. We’ve only ever had a fake one; I dust it off every Christmas and put the same decorations on it. Some of them are Tyler’s he made at nursery: a bell with cotton wool across the bottom for snow, a ‘stained-glass window’ of card and coloured cellophane, and a very battered, glittery star for the top. The tree is white; each branch is like a stick of tinsel. It was on special at Asda one year – it was Christmas Eve and we didn’t have a tree yet; Tyler was five – it had been half price, £5.99. It was all I could afford. Tyler loved it. I loved it for what it represented: our family-of-two Christmas.

  ‘This year we’ll have another one, OK?’

  ‘Sure, Mum.’

  ‘I won’t be long. Can you feed the cat by the way?’ I start to walk towards the door.

  ‘Mum?’

  I turn around. ‘What?’

  ‘You’re happy, aren’t you?’ He cocks his head to one side. ‘I don’t normally see you like this.’

  I smile and shrug, not wanting to give too much away, and head towards the door. I almost run down the stairs I’m so excited, but I steady myself, grab my thickest coat from the rack. It was second-hand last year, and it won’t fit for much longer, but it will do today. I put on a sparkly woolly hat I picked up when Gloria and I were at the markets last week and pop it over my head and smile to myself. Happy? Yes, I suppose I am. I jump as there’s a beep on the horn outside. He’s here.

  I grab my bag from the floor, open the front door and head towards his car. As I clamber inside the warm fuzzy space that I have come to love, I settle myself down with a grin.

  ‘All right?’ He glances at me then starts to tune the radio. We listen to ‘Time after Time’ by Cyndi Lauper as Daniel turns out of our road.

  Not far outside Chesterbrook, we turn down a bumpy track leading on one side to a farm, and on the other there’s an old rickety barn. I’ve seen the signs for this place before, every year it goes up, but
I’ve never been down the lane.

  Real Christmas Trees / Bring the kids!

  There’s frost along the drive and clinging to the wooden fence on the edges.

  We park next to a blue van and Daniel hops out. As I open the car door, I’m hit with the wonderful aroma of fresh pines. The perfume in the air is intoxicating, mixing with the farmyard smells.

  ‘C’mon,’ he says, ‘time for a real tree – no fake plastic this year, Ms Moore!’

  I laugh. He’s taken to calling me Ms Moore as I am ‘his client’ he says with a wink. My heart gallops a few beats too fast and I swing my legs round and get out of the car.

  Circular holly wreaths with bright blood-red berries are piled up in boxes. There’s a stall parked outside selling hot dogs, hot chocolate, coffee and candyfloss. Fairy lights have been strung up along the tins of coffee, bags of sweets and ornaments at the back of the stall; it looks like little fireflies dancing across the table. My stomach grumbles. I’m absolutely starving.

  Further on, there’s row after row of trees neatly laid out in the yard and there’s a couple of small pens enclosing piglets in one, and an exhausted-looking sheep in another with a gaggle of children standing around, kicking the hay and squealing.

  ‘Charlie, what shall we get?’

  We. ‘A small one for me. I haven’t got much to decorate it with!’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I got two big tubs of “Family Christmas decorations” earlier – buy one get one free.’ He laughs. ‘They’re in the back of the car.’ He marches off purposefully and I can’t help but admire him from behind. He’s wearing his leather jacket, a thin-knit cream jumper and a navy scarf wrapped around his neck.

  ‘Hey, come and look at this one!’ Daniel has come up to me and places a hand on my shoulder. ‘Over here.’

  I follow him to where the trees have been perched in rows like a miniature forest on the courtyard. I’m drawn towards a fluffy little tree, no higher than my shoulder, and pull on the branches. ‘This one, Charlie?’ He’s standing next to me.

  I nod. ‘Yes, it’s perfect.’ Daniel chats to the owner and pulls at branches. He’s smiling and laughing as the man explains something about the pine needles and central heating.