An hour later Rozzer and Smudge were leaving the unit – hopefully for good – under his care. It was fair to say that both looked more anxious than ecstatic to be free again. Smudge glanced constantly over his shoulder as Jim walked them across the car park and let them into the car. Silently, they climbed inside and huddled into their hoodies.
Before Jim drove off, he turned to talk to them. ‘You’re going to have to crash at my place for the time being. It’ll be a tight squeeze.’ Then he remembered that previously they had been sharing a cell on a wing with thirty other blokes. The flat would be like a palace in comparison. Even if it was a palace filled with boxes and wrapping paper. ‘Feeling all right?’
‘Just a bit scared,’ Smudge admitted. ‘You know where you are inside. Everything’s done for you. Out here it’s all to play for.’
‘You should see that as a good thing. A new start.’
‘I don’t want to fuck up again,’ the lad said. He tore at his fingernails, anxiously.
‘It’s different this time,’ Jim assured him. ‘You’ve got a place to go to. You’ve got a bit of work experience under your belt. You’ve got Rozzer and you’ve got me. We’ll see that you’re OK.’
Smudge risked a smile. ‘When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound too bad.’
‘You’ll do fine, I’m sure.’ Jim looked at them both. ‘Let’s go home.’
The flat was immaculate after his cleaning spree. The lads looked different here in their own gear, even younger if that was possible. Rozzer’s clothes were so-so, baggy and garish, but good quality. Smudge’s, on the other hand, were threadbare and dirty. They looked exactly as if he’d been sleeping in a wheelie bin in them. The clothes he’d worn going to Randall Court had clearly been borrowed from another lad on the wing. Jim wondered how much it had cost Smudge to secure that deal. Tomorrow they’d have to go into town and buy him something better to wear. Tonight, Jim could give him some sweats and a T-shirt. They’d swamp him, but they’d have to do.
The smell of the prison clung to the lads and he didn’t want that to be the first thing that hit Cassie as she came through the door. Both stood awkwardly in the living room, looking around as if they’d never seen it before.
‘Don’t stand on ceremony,’ Jim said, brightly. ‘Make yourselves at home. Both put your bags in the spare room. One of you can take the futon in there. The other will have to sleep on the sofa, but it’s quite comfy. I’ve kipped through many a football match on there.’ He took Rozzer’s holdall from him. Smudge had nothing other than the clothes he stood up in. Not a bar of soap nor a pair of clean pants. ‘Why don’t you both take a good shower, wash the smell of that place out of your hair?’ He hoped that one day Smudge wouldn’t look quite as grey as he did now. Get a bit of fresh air on his face, some exercise for his scrawny body and some decent meals down him, and he was sure the lad would blossom.
‘You go in first, Rozzer,’ Smudge said. ‘I’ll wait.’
‘I’ll try not to be too long.’
‘Lad,’ Jim said, ‘take all the time you need. There’s no rush. No timetable. Enjoy a nice hot shower in privacy. I’ll find some clothes for you, Smudge. You can’t stay in those.’
They all went through to the spare room and dumped Rozzer’s holdall on the futon. Jim found him a towel from the airing cupboard and showed him how to work the shower.
Then, in his own bedroom, shadowed by Smudge, he found the lad some clean clothes, including a pack of new pants from Marks and Sparks. Jim turned to hand them over.
Smudge stood in the middle of the room, arms hanging by his sides, shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
‘Hey,’ Jim said, sitting on the bed and pulling him down to sit next to him. ‘What’s all that for?’
‘Why are you being so kind?’ he asked as he sniffed.
Jim shrugged. ‘It’s what people do.’
‘My own dad used to stub cigarettes out on me,’ he said.
Jim slung his arm round the lad’s shoulders. ‘Those days are over. I generally find if you treat people well, then they do the same to you.’ Smudge looked at him ruefully. ‘There are always exceptions to the rule, but don’t live your life for them.’
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jim.’
‘I’m not planning on going anywhere,’ he promised. ‘You can rely on that.’
‘Is Cassie cool with this too?’
‘Yeah,’ Jim said. ‘She’s fine.’
And, as he hadn’t been able to call and warn her what he’d done, he could only hope that he was right.
Chapter Fifty-Four
After the visit to Father Christmas, the children are given sleds and play in the woods, sliding down the gentle hills to tumble in a heap at the bottom. Carter and I sit on the porch by a brazier to watch them and have some more of the delicious mumma. He’s quieter than he’s been the last few days and I don’t know if he just needs some space or whether he’d rather talk. After a while, I can’t help myself and turn to him. ‘Penny for them?’
He continues to stare at the children. ‘That hit me like a low ball. It wasn’t easy to hear.’
‘No,’ I agree. ‘That must have been tough.’
Carter’s laugh is hollow. ‘For the first time in my life, I can’t give them what they want.’
‘They love what you do for them,’ I assure him. ‘You know what children are like, they say exactly what’s on their minds. It’s probably because you’ve spent so much time with them over the last few days. All they really want is more of that.’
‘I think it’s also because you’ve been so great with them too. Tamara is never this free and easy with them. She’s always so uptight about what they’re doing, what they look like. They want the kind of mother they’ve never actually had. I think that was what their letters were really about.’
I can’t comment on that, but Carter is clearly troubled by what he’s heard. His dark eyes are sad and I can only try to soothe him. ‘You’re a wonderful father. This has been a great trip. They’ve had a marvellous time. One that they’ll never forget.’
‘I’ll never forget it either, Cassie Christmas,’ he says. ‘It’s been perfect. You’ve made it a lot of fun.’
Add me to the list of people who won’t forget too. It’s going to be hard going back to the flat, the daily grind, the constant scrimping and saving. To Jim. But that’s what we must do. Lunch is booked at the Icehotel and then a car will whisk us to Kiruna Airport where our private jet will spirit us home again.
‘Look at us,’ Max shouts. ‘We’re really good at this!’
They both zoom down the hill and, once again, topple off their sleds.
‘We should show them how it’s done,’ I say to Carter.
He tries a smile. ‘Think so?’
‘Oh yeah.’
I grab his hand and pull him up from his seat. He stands in front of me and, for a moment, we’re face to face. Suddenly, the world stops. The children’s playful screaming recedes, there’s no noise at all. The only thing I can hear is my own blood pounding in my ears and the sound of our unsteady breathing. White clouds of our breath mingle in the air. Carter reaches up and brushes my hair from my cheek. ‘Cassie —’
‘Daddy,’ Max shouts impatiently, ‘are you coming to play?’
Carter strokes my skin and his eyes tell me that we have unfinished business. Then he turns away. ‘On my way!’ He dashes towards the children, towing me in his wake.
Breathless and panting, we reach the top of the small incline and jump onto red plastic sleds to race down the hill, catching up with the children as we go. At the bottom we all pitch into a pile of arms and legs, laughing. I look over at Carter and he’s having a rough-and-tumble with Max, joy on both of their faces.
‘Come on,’ I say to Eve. ‘Let’s race these boys. Show them that girls are the best.’
‘Oh no you don’t.’ Carter scoops Eve into his arms and dumps her, shrieking, into a snowdrift
. ‘Boys are the best!’
The children pull Carter to the ground and try to push snow down his Arctic suit. He shouts out in protest and we’re all laughing.
For a small moment, my heart is still. I have done this, I think. I have helped this disjointed family to reconnect and I feel proud that I’ve been a small part of their lives. Soon, too soon, we’ll be going our separate ways. But, for now, I want to have as much fun with them as possible before it’s all over.
Chapter Fifty-Five
We all pile into the car and wave goodbye to the Icehotel as the car crunches out onto the main road. My heart is heavy as we head to the tiny airport at Kiruna, speeding along despite the roads being thick with snow and ice. The mood in the car is subdued and even the trees, bowed with snow, seem to be sad for us.
‘I don’t want to go home,’ Max says miserably and, quite frankly, I couldn’t have put it better myself.
But in minutes, it seems, we’re sweeping into the airport. Already I can see the small jet with its ExecLine livery on the tarmac, waiting patiently for us.
We’re whisked through the formalities and are welcomed onto the plane by the steward. Soon, too soon, we’re belted, buckled and on our way.
Through the window, I watch the stunning, snowy landscape recede as we climb, knowing that I may never be able to afford to come here again. The darkness outside is gathering and I slide the shade down over the glass, turning away. This is it. Our trip is nearly over. The children get their Nintendos out of their backpacks, but they’ve both got heavy eyes and, as soon as we reach our flying altitude, they’ve given in to sleep.
‘They’re exhausted,’ Carter says.
‘Well, we’ve all had a very full-on few days.’
Carter takes my hand and holds it tight, speaking in a low voice. ‘It’s not only the children who don’t want it to end.’
‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it.’ Then, trying to keep the moment light, ‘I feel as if my job is done.’
‘It’s nothing to do with your job,’ Carter says. ‘We both know that.’
I think it’s best if I don’t say anything.
‘You’re a fantastic woman, Cassie,’ he continues. ‘It’s you who’s made this trip such fun and I don’t think that you could have done that if it was simply another job to you.’
There is more truth in that statement than I care to admit.
‘I think you have fallen in love with my children and, for that, I am just so very grateful.’ His fingers trace over mine and I get a shiver of desire when I really rather wouldn’t. ‘I’d like to think that you’ve also fallen a little bit in love with me.’
His eyes search my face. My mouth has gone dry and my cheeks are burning like a furnace.
‘I know that I’m falling in love with you.’ He laughs as if it’s the very last thing in the world he expected. It’s certainly the last thing that I expected.
My heart thuds so hard that I think it might burst. Has Carter really just said that he loves me? I believe he did.
It seems as if he’s waiting expectantly for me to say something, but my brain doesn’t seem to think it needs to comply.
‘Cassie?’ he says. ‘Is it such a shock?’
When I finally find my voice, I say, ‘I’m with someone else.’
‘Jim.’
Jim. My darling Jim.
‘Leave him,’ Carter says starkly. ‘I want you to be with me. I want you to move into Randall Court. Come and have Christmas with us. The children will be thrilled. I’ll be thrilled. More than that. I’ll be the happiest man on earth.’
‘I… I… I…’ I have no idea what I want to say. This is like a bolt from the blue.
‘You don’t have to answer now,’ Carter says. ‘Of course you don’t. I know that you need time to think.’
‘What about Tamara?’ I manage.
‘Our marriage is over,’ he insists. ‘She’s not been a great mother to the children. I can see that now. She’s done nothing but put herself first.’
‘But she’s the only mother they’ve got.’
‘She’s never around when they need her. Her business always takes top priority.’ Then his face is sad. ‘I can’t lay all the blame at her feet though. I haven’t been a good father either. Well, that’s not going to continue. From now on, I’m determined to be the best I can be. I can see that Eve and Max need a woman like you in their lives, Cassie,’ he presses on. ‘Someone kind, caring. Someone who will love and nurture them unconditionally.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Promise me that you’ll think about it. I’ll call you tomorrow. We can go for dinner. Talk about our future.’
Our future?
‘I can give you the world on a platter,’ Carter says. ‘Everything you could ever dream of can be yours for the asking. You’re worth it. Even in the short time that we’ve been acquainted, I know you are.’
I look around at my surroundings. I’m in a gold-plated private jet, and anything I want could be mine. There’d be no need for me to work. I could devote my life to looking after Carter’s children. I’m already smitten with Max and Eve, so that would be no hardship at all. I’d have my own ready-made family. Perhaps I could have my own children with Carter, the children I’ve always dreamed of. I’d never have to worry about money again. No putting it off until I’m old and grey simply because we don’t have the funds. There’d be no more economising, no ‘value’ packs, no own-brand labels. No more crushing credit-card debt. No more hideous overdraft. No more living in a cramped, rented flat. Randall Court could be my permanent residence. My life could be idyllic with Carter. Everything I’ve ever wanted could be mine.
Then I pull myself up short. Until a few short weeks ago, before I spilled a drink on Carter Randall, all I ever wanted was Jim. He was the only man that I’ve ever loved. I look at Carter sitting next to me, so handsome that I could gaze at him all day and not grow tired of the view. It’s not just his looks, or even his money, he’s a good and kind person too. Do I love him? I hadn’t even dared to consider it a possibility until he declared his feelings for me.
But what about Jim? I love him too. He’s kind and caring, and I have loved him for a long time. Can my head really have been turned so quickly? I have no idea what to do.
The steward comes to tell us that we’ll soon be landing. Even the idea of it is painful.
‘Say that you’ll think about it,’ Carter asks earnestly.
‘Yes. Of course, I will.’ In all honesty, I’m not sure that I’ll be able to think about anything else.
Chapter Fifty-Six
‘Right,’ Jim said. ‘Now that you both smell divine’ – the lads laughed at that – ‘you can help me to prepare dinner.’
In the end he’d given both of them some of his own clothes. Even the stuff that Rozzer had put on, which had been kept in storage, smelled strongly of Bovingdale and he didn’t want that distinctive aroma permeating the flat. All their kit would need washing – that which didn’t need binning – so the first thing he’d done was show them how to sort their laundry and use the washing machine. There was a load already running. Rozzer filled out Jim’s old jeans and T-shirt without any trouble, but everything hung off Smudge. He looked like a child in grown-up clothing. Like Tom Hanks in that film Big.
‘Now. Can either of you cook?’
They both shook their heads.
‘OK. We’re going to start easy. Spaghetti bolognese tonight. That suit you?’
Both lads grinned.
‘I want you on chopping onions, Rozzer. You can fry the mince, Smudge.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ the lad admitted.
‘I’ll show you.’ Jim poured some olive oil into the pan. ‘A little bit of that. Wait until it gets hot.’ He tipped in the meat. ‘Now all you do is stir it until it goes nice and brown, but don’t burn it. Keep it moving.’
Smudge took the wooden spoon from Jim and cack-handedly stirred the mince.
‘You
need to learn a few basic dishes,’ Jim said. ‘You want to eat good, nutritious food. You’ve got a nice little kitchen in your new place and there’s no need to exist on ready meals or live on takeaways. It’s cheaper and better for you to make your own food from scratch.’
Calling Mrs Christmas Page 29