The Perfect Present

by Karen Swan

  Laura hesitated, letting Joe push his plate towards his wife first, before responding, ‘That would be wonderful. If you’re sure there’s enough.’

  ‘You need feeding up, lady,’ Kitty said, carrying the plates towards the sink just as there was a knock at the front door. ‘Get that would you, Joe?’

  He scraped his chair back noisily along the floor.

  ‘It’s good to see you two getting to know each other better,’ Kitty said diplomatically, returning with the extra helpings. ‘He’s not so bad, you know.’

  Laura was mortified that Kitty had read the situation so accurately. ‘Oh no, no. I never thought he was,’ she lied as the distant bass of voices started up in the hallway.

  ‘I think probably you’re just too alike, that’s all.’

  What – dour, miserable and sullen? Was that how Kitty saw her? Laura felt her spirits dip at the realization. She over-piled her fork with food and started chewing, cheeks full as globes when the kitchen door opened and Joe came back in.

  ‘Look who I found!’ he said, instantly falling into the role of mine host and crossing the room to pour their guest a glass of wine.

  Rob sauntered in a second later, shrugging off his overcoat and shaking snow out of his hair. He was wearing a navy suit and pale blue shirt, the tie loosened and his top button undone, ready for home. Laura froze.

  ‘I’m under orders to collect the Christmas pudding and cake, Kit. Cat’s convinced we’re going to be snowed in till Christmas now,’ Rob laughed, kissing Kitty on each cheek before catching sight of Laura. ‘Oh.’

  Laura felt herself cringe all the way down to her toes as she swallowed her food hurriedly. ‘Hello,’ she mumbled, a hand over her mouth, feeling layers of embarrassment clamber upon her as she remembered she was also wearing Kitty’s pink flannel pyjamas.

  A beat passed.

  ‘Laura,’ he said, walking over and putting one hand lightly on her shoulder, kissing her politely on the cheeks for appearance’s sake. ‘This is a surprise. I didn’t know you were here.’

  ‘I-I’m an interloper who’s rather thrown herself upon their mercy for tonight,’ she said, looking at the floor. ‘I hadn’t realized snow was coming and I stupidly made an impromptu detour over here to see Kitty after my interviews.’

  ‘Still not run out of conversation, then, you two?’ Rob teased, directing the comment at Kitty, but his voice sounded strained. ‘Who were you interviewing?’ he asked, his stiff body language belying the easy-going chat.

  ‘Min and Olive.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Fun day.’ He shifted position, shoving a hand into his trouser pocket. ‘How was Min? I haven’t seen her for ages.’

  ‘Yes. Very well. It all went well,’ she fudged. Now wasn’t the right time to confront him with the truths she’d learnt today.

  ‘Have you eaten, Rob?’ Kitty asked. ‘There’s some stew left.’

  Rob held up a hand. ‘Thanks, I’m fine. I had lunch out today.’

  ‘Well, can you stay for a drink?’ Kitty asked hopefully. ‘We can give Joe the post-mortem.’

  ‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that,’ Joe protested, making Kitty giggle and slap his arm affectionately.

  ‘Verbier, you wally!’

  ‘To be honest, I really ought to head back,’ Rob said, thumbing towards the door.

  ‘Not even one drink? Please?’ Kitty pleaded. ‘It would be so fun.’

  Rob hesitated, his eyes on Laura’s red toenails. ‘Well . . . just one. But it’ll have to be quick. It’s still snowing and you don’t want me stranded here overnight too,’ he said, giving a forced laugh.

  ‘Let’s move into the other room,’ Joe suggested convivially, picking up the bottle and leading the way, leaving their second helpings untouched on the table.

  They went through to a room Laura hadn’t been in before. It was tiny but more formal – well, not covered in dog hairs anyway. There was only just enough room for two two-seater sofas and an under-the-window bookcase. The walls were painted port-wine red, with a green carpet and a black fireplace that, unlike the blacksmith’s furnace in the kitchen, had a low, simmering flame.

  Laura crossed the room to the far sofa. Etiquette demanded that she sit next to Rob – there was nowhere else to go – and she fussed as she sat down, taking care to wrap her legs round themselves like wisteria vines so that she took up as little space as possible.

  ‘So it sounds like I missed a cracking weekend,’ Joe said to Rob, handing him his glass.

  ‘You were sorely missed, mate.’

  ‘You’d have loved the Secret Santas,’ Kitty giggled, patting Joe’s knee. ‘There were some really rude ones. Poor David’s face when he saw that glow-in-the-dark thingy! Of course, Alex made sure he ended up with it, didn’t he, Laura?’

  ‘Uh, yes, I think so,’ Laura replied vaguely.

  ‘Kitty said Alex was up to his usual tricks,’ Joe muttered.

  ‘Of course,’ Rob nodded, and Laura felt her cheeks burn. Was Joe referring to what had happened on the skidoo trip?

  ‘Have you spoken to anyone from the trip since getting home?’ Rob asked, turning to Laura.

  ‘Uh, just Kitty. And Cat Skyped me yesterday, obviously,’ Laura replied, managing to keep her eyes dead ahead.

  ‘Not Orlando? Or Alex?’ There was an intimation in his voice.

  Laura deliberately let the question pass. As far as she was concerned, she’d already answered. She stared into her glass, bemoaning the pyjama situation. It was hardly the most dignified appearance since their last, eventful meeting. She bet he didn’t want to kiss her now.

  ‘So all the interviews are finished, then?’ Kitty asked, throwing her legs over Joe’s lap.

  Laura nodded. ‘Yup. All done, and the charms are almost completed. I’ll be out of everyone’s way before you know it.’

  ‘I hope that’s not code for you disappearing on us,’ Kitty said quickly. ‘You will keep in touch, won’t you? I’d love to make a day trip over to see you. I love the seaside.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Kit. Laura’s not going anywhere as fast as she’d like,’ Rob said with authority.

  Laura looked across at him.

  ‘You haven’t interviewed me yet,’ he shrugged.

  ‘Yes I have. I interviewed you on the plane.’

  A moment passed. ‘Briefly. It hardly counted as an interview.’

  ‘Maybe, but you told me a lot on the glacier too, and I did have a weekend to watch you together. That’s more telling than words.’ She took a swig of wine. ‘You asked me to encapsulate the essence of her relationships, not signify particular memories, and I believe I understand absolutely the essence of your relationship with her.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘I do,’ Laura nodded.

  ‘Mind-sharing?’ he asked, giving a small, forced laugh.

  ‘She’s the fixed point of your world. She’s the sun you rise to every day and the moon who guides you. You’re the luckiest man on the planet, Rob – you married your own dream.’ Her voice had risen an octave and her smile was rictus tight.

  Rob stared at her. ‘That’s what you see?’

  ‘Wow, Laura,’ Kitty breathed. ‘You’re like a poet or something.’

  ‘I will be if I can find a way of translating all that into a single charm,’ she smiled, draining her glass, unable to bear Rob’s continued scrutiny. She didn’t think she could keep up the act for much longer. Sitting here on this sofa with him was too close, too soon. She looked across at Kitty. ‘Well, I’m afraid I’m shattered. I’ve been working non-stop since we got back and I’m so tired I could sleep on a spike.’

  ‘But it’s not even nine,’ Rob said incredulously, checking the mantel clock.

  ‘Like I said, crazy hours,’ Laura replied tightly, rising. ‘And I’ve imposed on you guys enough for one day. You must want some time to yourselves before the ankle-biters are up again. Thanks for dinner, Kitty. It was delicious.’

  She crossed the room, feelin
g conspicuous and ridiculous in the pyjamas.

  ‘Actually, I’ll just, uh . . . have a quick word with Laura outside,’ she heard Rob say as she got to the door. ‘About payment for the necklace.’

  Laura spun on her heel to find him standing up, ready to follow. ‘There’s absolutely no need, Rob. Don’t you remember? You’ve already paid in full. We’re all square.’

  He looked back at her, stunned. ‘But—’

  ‘Trust me. Our account is settled. Just enjoy your drink with your friends,’ she said casually, leaving him no option but to sit down again. ‘You owe me nothing.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The light woke her. Laura sat up blearily. Even without opening the curtains she could tell the snow had fallen hard.

  She kicked the blankets off and the floorboards creaked beneath her weight as she went to the window to peer out into the world. There was probably a foot and a half of snow now. It was so deep that everything outside had lost its edges, blending shapes so that bird baths blurred with garden chairs, cars into garden walls. She remembered her old enemy Sugar and wondered how she was coping with the snow, in spite of her adaptability.

  A shiver ferreted up her spine from the old, cold glass and she moved away to lean against the ancient radiator. It was only warm in the top-right corner, so she perched there whilst her brain slowly booted up and reminded her of the ruin that was her life now. Jack, Fee. It was Thursday. This would be the third whole day since she’d left home, the longest the three of them had ever gone without contact. She kept catching herself worrying about Fee – knowing she of all people couldn’t cope with silence – before remembering in the next instant how Fee didn’t need her concern. Fee had proved more than capable of looking out for herself and getting what she wanted.

  Laura breathed slowly, painfully. She still hadn’t cried properly yet and was beginning to wonder whether she ever would. Maybe she just couldn’t any more; maybe her body couldn’t absorb any more hurt.

  She washed at the sink and got dressed in yesterday’s clothes. She had no idea how she was going to get home today. She’d have to fit Monster wheels on Dolly to get her over this snow.

  She could hear Kitty talking as she came down the stairs.

  ‘Well, I haven’t had an email or anything to say that school isn’t going to open, so I guess I’m going to have to try to make my way in,’ Kitty sighed, setting down the tea and a platter of sausages, bacon and baked beans. Scrambled eggs were in a separate bowl. She looked up at the sight of Laura in the doorway. ‘Good timing! Come and sit . . . Of course, the children will want me to pull them in on their sledges.’

  ‘Well, you’re not to, Kits,’ Joe said firmly from his high-backed chair. He didn’t actively acknowledge Laura’s presence, but he didn’t scowl at her either, which had to be taken as a positive step up in his books. ‘They’re too heavy now for you to be dragging them behind you like that. You’ll do your back in again. I’d take them myself if I didn’t have to clear the roads.’

  Kitty looked over at Laura. ‘The council’s asked him to clear the local roads. It couldn’t have come at a better time, could it, Joe? A little more cash before Christmas.’

  Joe gave a terse, scarcely perceptible nod. Laura already knew enough of the man to know he would abhor any kind of comment about money in front of strangers. ‘Don’t change the subject, Kit. You are not to pull them.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right,’ his wife replied, busying herself with cutting her sausage into tiny pieces.

  ‘Kit!’ Joe warned, frowning at her. ‘I mean it.’

  Kit sighed and stopped what she was doing. ‘Okay. I promise,’ she said, making eye contact with him. Laura quickly looked away, feeling strangely intrusive, pouring herself some tea from the pot.

  Joe helped himself to another rasher of bacon.

  ‘Well, obviously I can help you,’ Laura said after a minute listening to everyone munching whilst she held her mug between two hands.

  ‘You’ve not got suitable clothing for walking around in these conditions,’ Kitty argued.

  ‘What are you talking about, woman? You’ve got loads of things she can borrow,’ Joe muttered. ‘She may as well make herself useful.’ He looked at Laura. ‘The roads are closed and there are no trains. You’ll have to stay here tonight as well.’

  It was the most graceless offer of hospitality Laura had ever heard.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

  Kitty peered over at Laura as she spread her home-made marmalade on toast. ‘Sleep well?’

  ‘Like the proverbial, thanks.’

  ‘Huh, that’s because you don’t have the literals,’ Joe mumbled.

  Kitty’s phone beeped beside her and she picked it up. ‘Oh. There it is. Confirmation that school’s shut.’

  A collective roar from the children made Laura jump. Kitty shook her head, smiling, as they all started dancing around the kitchen, jubilant. She raised an eyebrow at Laura. ‘How are your snowman-making skills?’

  ‘Rusty.’

  ‘Well, tuck in,’ she said, pushing the sausages towards Laura. ‘You thought skiing with Rob was hard core?’ She shook her head and gave a small snort of disdain. ‘He’s nothing compared to what my lot will expect from you in the snow.’

  Laura sniffed loudly as Samuel wriggled on her lap. Lucie put her arm around her and squeezed tight.

  ‘Laura?’ Kitty frowned, peering her head round the door of the snug and finding her feral children sitting in a heap around Laura. They were supposed to be having ‘quiet time’ after lunch, but it appeared Laura was the one most in need of time-out.

  ‘Mufasa just died,’ Laura hiccupped, pointing towards the TV. It was the third film she’d watched in a row and she was almost cross-eyed with grief.

  ‘Ah yes . . . The Lion King. One of my top-five films of all time,’ Kitty said earnestly, watching her closely. Laura had started weeping the second the opening credits had come up and basically hadn’t stopped.

  ‘Mine too. After Nemo and Toy Story,’ Laura sniffed again.

  ‘I think Toy Story 2’s better,’ Finn piped up from under her arm. ‘We’ll watch that next.’

  Kitty smiled at him. ‘Well, do you think I could borrow Aunty Laura for a bit first?’

  Laura nodded and got up. Instantly, five sets of arms wrapped around her. ‘No!’ the children cried.

  ‘I’ll have her back before Scar does you-know-what,’ Kitty winked.

  They fell back on to the little green sofa reluctantly.

  ‘What’s up?’ Laura asked weakly, her nose red, as they tiptoed out of the snug.

  ‘Is everything all right, Laura?’ Kitty asked, placing an enquiring hand on her arm.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she sniffed. ‘Why d’you ask?’

  ‘Only the fact that you’ve been crying for two hours solid.’

  Laura swallowed. ‘Disney,’ she said, thumbing back towards the door. ‘Killing me. I don’t know how the kids do it. They are so hard. How can they not sob when Mufasa is betrayed by his own son like that? His own son, I ask you?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Kitty watched as a fresh veil of tears fell. ‘Well, listen, I was going to ask whether you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour. But if you’re too upset, I —’

  ‘No, no, no. Anything. What can I do?’ Laura asked, wiping her nose with a piece of kitchen roll that Samuel had given her – only to discover the little devil had used it himself. ‘Ugh!’

  ‘I’m just finishing the costumes for the nativity tonight, but I’m out of ribbon for Martha’s headdress. Joe’s going into town to get some more salt, but frankly he wouldn’t know a petersham from Peter Jones. I don’t suppose . . . ?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Great! I’ve got a small sample you can match. I need three point two metres.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Oh, you are a love. Joe’s just getting the tractor. Take my ski jacket from the porch. I’ll just go get that sample for you.’

  Laur
a nodded, sniffing again as she slipped on Kitty’s jacket and wellies by the door.

  ‘Here you go.’ Kitty handed over a small strip of cinnamon-coloured grosgrain ribbon. ‘See you back here shortly. I should have pretty much finished by then and we can have a cuppa.’

  ‘Lovely.’

  Laura marched into the snow. It had been well compacted down thanks to their strenuous activity in the morning – a snowman competition: yes, why stop at one when the children can have one each? – followed by a particularly vigorous and evil snowball fight that saw the children target Laura with a well-planned ambush campaign, resulting in handfuls of snow being shoved down her back. And when she’d fallen, laughing, in the snow, the children had followed suit, swinging their arms and legs out to make snow angels.

  Joe’s blue tractor rumbled around from the barns at the back and he threw open the door for her without cutting the engine and the cab wobbled perilously on its hyper-suspension. Laura clambered up, looking around for a seat belt, and found with alarm that there wasn’t one. The snow-plough Joe had used earlier when he’d been clearing the roads was still fitted, and Laura watched, mesmerized, as they pulled away and the fresh falls parted before them like a holy sea.

  ‘You’re quiet,’ Joe muttered after several minutes of silence.

  ‘Am I?’ she replied, staring out of the panoramic windscreen.

  ‘Yes, given that every time I pass, you and Kitty are always chatting away like you’ve known each other for years.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure Kitty’s like that with everyone. She’s so friendly and warm.’

  Joe shot her a sideways look. ‘You’d be surprised.’

  Laura looked across at him. This was almost passing as a conversation. ‘Are you saying Kitty’s shy?’

  ‘I’m saying she’s not as robust as she comes across. She gives too much and she gets easily hurt. That’s what I’m saying.’

  Laura frowned as the tractor swept down the lanes. The comment felt targeted. ‘I would never hurt her, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘No?’ Joe looked dead ahead. ‘That’s what her other friends said too, till their lives took off and they dumped her like a sack of potatoes because she wasn’t rich and thin and glamorous enough to fit into their shiny new circles.’