“Oh stop! Both of you, please stop!” I was crying now, horrified at the scene in front of me. “Harry, just go! I’m sorry for making you come back.”
“No.” Harry wassuddenly looking very, very sober.“You know what, Holly, I think I’d like to have a chat with my brother – so if you wouldn’t mind leaving us alone?”
There was nothing I could do but leave them to it. Reluctant to go up to my room in case things got physical, I went across the hall into the playroom and lay down on the couch.
Even from there I could hear them shouting at each other, at first loudly and then more intermittently. I lay on the couch sobbing, until, despite my best intentions, I drifted off to sleep.
I’m not sure what it was that woke me some time later. For a moment, I had no idea where I was. The room was dark and someone had covered me with a blanket. I raised my head from its uncomfortable position on the arm of the sofa. I could barely make out the silhouette of a tuxedoed man on the armchair opposite me. Harry had obviously stayed. I wondered how it had ended between himself and Mark. For a moment, though, their argument was the least of my problems as suddenly the room started to spin around my head.
Oh crap, I was going to get sick.
With a groan, I threw back the blanket and ran for the downstairs bathroom, only just making it in time. Wave after wave of sickness swept over me as I clutched the toilet bowl. Then I felt someone scoop my hair back from my face and pat my icy-cold bare back in soothing circles.
“Oh Harry, this has to be the worst night of my life,” I groaned as eventually the sickness stopped.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Christ!
It wasn’t Harry, it was Mark.
Oh bloody brilliant.
I flinched in horror at the recollection of what he’d just witnessed.
“Oh Mark, please go away – just leave me alone,” I whispered, staying crouched against the toilet. There was no way I was turning to face him, looking the way I did.
“Stop being silly. Here.” He handed me a warm, wet flannel and when I still wouldn’t look at him he tilted my face up and wiped it softly. I could feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck at his touch, but I had no choice now but to look at him. And what I saw frightened me. His face was deathly white and drawn. In fact, he looked just as bad as I felt.
Which, funnily enough, made me feel even worse.
“Now, come on, you’re freezing. You need to get out of that dress and into bed,” he said, putting down the cloth.
I shook my head, afraid to leave the vicinity of the toilet. The last thing I wanted to do was vomit all over his feet in the hall.
He went out and brought one of his T-shirts and a giant tracksuit bottoms back in to me.
“Put these on. I’ll make you a cup of tea to take upstairs with you.”
“I don’t want tea.”
“Well, you’ll thank me in the morning, trust me.” He left the clothes with me and went into the kitchen.
Slowly I climbed out of my beautiful dress, rinsed my mouth and, squirting some toothpaste on my finger, dragged it over my teeth. Then, when I was dressed in his over-sized clothes I decided that I just didn’t have the energy to climb all those stairs so I padded back to the couch in the playroomand sat on it, the blanket now around my shoulders. He brought in two cups of hot tea and some toast, and sat down beside me.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“Holly, I am so sorry.”
I cringed. “Oh Mark, don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I do. That brother of mine gave me some talking towhen you left, and I’m not saying he was right on everything, but he was definitely right about one thing. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you tonight. I completely overreacted.”
I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks as the memories of the night flooded back, but I had to clarify one thing.
“I know my case is severely weakened by the fact that I just threw up all over the place but, Mark, I wasn’t drunk when, you know, when you and I . . .” I stopped. It was all just too embarrassing.
“I know. It was unforgiveable of me, and I’m sorry.”
He put an arm around me and I hesitated for only a second before curling into him, once again breathing in his unmistakeable smell. As he hugged me my heart started to thump in my chest again, but this time my dizziness was as much to do with confusion as passion.
“Have some toast,” he said, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze, “and when you wake up in the morning, you’ll feel a lot better.”
He went to get up but I stopped him, saying, “Don’t go yet.”
“Holly –”
“Please.”
So he didn’t. And we sat there, me nibbling on toast, him stroking my hair.
“You should probably take all those clips out,” he said softly.
I nodded, my eyes closing as he gently started to remove Maisie’s hair-grips, one by one, stroking my hair softly as he did so. At the sensation of his fingers in my hair, my heart started to race. On and on he went, even when the last of the clips had fallen to the floor and there was no reason to continue stroking.
I turned my head slowly to look at him. His hand slid slowly round to cup my cheek and I closed my eyes, turning slightly to bury my lips in his hand. My heart was thumping in my chest and then, taking a deep breath, I turned to face him. There were no words spoken as we sat drinking in each other’s faces. I raised my hand to his cheek and traced his cheekbone with my finger and then he turned and brushed his lips across my hand.
And then we both leaned in to kiss. At first softly, tenderly, our hands cupping each other’s faces, then with more urgency. His hands moved to the back of my head, burrowing deep into my hair, but still mine stayed tracing his strong jaw, holding his beautiful face close to mine.
Again I was struck with how right kissing this man felt. Everything that had ever gone before now floated somewhere out of grasp of my memory.
My hands moved from his jaw down to trace his broad shoulders and huge expanse of chest. Through his dinner shirt I could feel every muscle and sinew of his strong body, as it strained against mine. And still we kissed, he with one hand still tangled in my hair, the other splayed across my shoulders. I flushed as his hand moved down my back, under the giant T-shirt and onto my naked waist. Subconsciously my fingers moved to the buttons on his shirt.
With every touch of his fingers on my body I arched closer to him. Our kisses became more urgent, and I knew that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I had never felt such unbridled desire for someone. Not for Cain, and not for Oliver.
Oliver.
And then, with a sinking heart, I knew this could go no further. Before I could formulate another thought I noticed that Mark’s lips had also ceased moving on mine and that his hand was now motionless on the small of my back.We both spoke at the exact same time.
“Mark – I can’t –”
“Holly – I can’t do this –”
I’d continued before I realised what he’d said. “I have a boyfriend – I just can’t – wait – what did you say?”
“It’s fine, Holly,” he pulled me close, squeezing me tightly in his arms as he spoke, “I can’t either. It’s – I just can’t – after Emma – it’s, oh fuck it, I can’t even explain –”
I sighed, holding him closely. “Oh Mark, I know. I understand.”
“You don’t, but it doesn’t matter. You’re right. It’s not right what we’re doing, it makes us as bad as –” He stopped, as if he couldn’t say the words.
By now we were lying in each other’s arms, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me.
“I should go,” he sighed.
“Yes,” I nodded.
But neither of us moved, and before long I had slipped into a deep sleep.
Chapter 52
When I woke again it was morning and Mark was gone. While I wasn’t surprised, I definitely couldn’t help but feel disappoi
nted.
I sat upright on the couch, wincing as the memories of the night before came flooding back. The skin on my back burned at the memory of his touch and my cheeks flared at the thought of what had almost happened. Gingerly I stood up. To be fair to Mark, the middle-of-the-night tea and toast had worked wonders and I didn’t feel half as sick as I thought I would.
I tiptoed to the window and looked out. The jeep was gone.
I folded up the blanket and went out into the hall, picking up my poor ball dress from outside the toilet door. I walked slowly, taking care not to trip over the ends of his giant tracksuit bottoms.
The house was shockingly quiet. I took a quick look into the sitting room but there was no sign of Harry and the blankets I’d given him the night before were still folded neatly where I’d left them. I wondered what exactly had happened between them when I’d left the room, but I was too embarrassed by the whole mess to pick up the phone and ring Harry to find out.
In any case, it was far too early to ring him, because he had to have been feeling a lot worse than me.
Taking another quick peek into the kitchen I noticed that the empty champagne bottles from the night before were gone and there was no sign of the glasses either. Mark must have tidied them away. I blushed at how he’d feel about us drinking so much before we’d even left the house. He probably didn’t even know that Dawn had been there too.
Lucky Dawn! I envied her that her night’s enjoyment had finished as early as it had.Just as I wondered what on earth I was going to tell her about the evening’s drama, the front-door bell chimed.
With a groan I remembered that I’d promised her we would get a head-start on some Christmas shopping. It wasn’t often we both had a day off without children. There was nothing for it but to open the door.
“Oh my God! What happened to you?” she shrieked.
“Do I look that bad?”
“Well, never mind how you look – I’m more interested in the fact that you’re wearing Mark’s clothes!”
Christ! The bloody clothes. I’d forgotten. My cheeks flared red.
“Oh – my – God. Tell me you did not sleep with Mark Fielding!”
“I –” I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing for it but the truth. “Well, I did actually, but not the way you mean.”
“Oh – my – God.”
“Dawn! Stop saying ‘Oh my God’!”
“Well, what do you want me to say?”
“Stop saying anything! Oh Christ, I need a shower and I need tea.”
“You run and have your shower, and I’ll put on the kettle.” She shoved me towards the stairs, and then she stopped. “Oh my God, wait – is he, like, here?”
“Who?”
“Mark! Who do you think I mean? Oh God, it was Mark, wasn’t it? Tell me it wasn’t Harry?”
“No, it wasn’t Harry, relax, he’s still available. Actually, what am I talking about, they’re both still available.”
“Stop!” She put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want any half-stories. Shower first, and then spill.”
I plodded my way up the stairs and into my room. Sitting on the bed I slipped off the tracksuit bottoms and then pulled the T-shirt up over my head. I folded up the T-shirt and put it beside my pillow, for some unexplainable reason unable to let it go just yet.
You are a fool, Holly Green! I told myself sharply as I stepped under the shower.
Nothing but a bloody fool.
“Oh – my – God!” said Dawn predictably when I finished my story.
I’d left out bits, of course, like how his kiss had made me feel, how close we’d come to doing something we both would have regrettedand especially the bit about how, no matter how hard I tried, I now couldn’t get him out of my head. And about how, despite all the mess of the night, how right it had felt.
“So what about Oliver? Is he out of the picture now?”
Damn you, Dawn, I knew you’d ask that.
“Of course not,” I snapped. “He’s the reason that nothing happened. Well, he was my reason. Mark, on the other hand, is understandably still in love with his dead wife.”
“Will you tell him?”
Will I tell him? Good question. No. I won’t be telling him.
“I don’t know, Dawn, probably not, it’s complicated.”
Like really complicated, like in an I’m-not-Oliver’s-only-girlfriend kind of complicated.
“How long have you liked Mark? I mean, have you fancied him all along?”
“No! I mean, don’t be ridiculous – I have a boyfriend, you know.”
Who, to be fair, hasn’ttaken up too much of your thoughts in the last forty-eight hours . . .
“You would make a great couple, you know,” Dawn said, her tone suddenly serious and quiet.
“No, we wouldn’t! We’d kill each other. Anyway, even if Oliver didn’t exist,there’s no way he’s over Emma –that’s painfully clear. And I simply couldn’t handle that hanging over me. I’ve lived in the shadow of my sister for years – there is absolutely no way I need another Marsha in my life, let alone a dead one.”
“Oh, Holly.”
“No, Dawn. It’s fine. This is a ridiculous conversation. I have Oliver. I love Oliver for God’s sake. Maybe Mark’s first instinct was right, and it was all just a drunken mistake. Anyhow, I’m going to forget it. It was a glitch and God knows I’m well used to them.”
“Well, how does Mark feel about it all?”
“Well, to be fair he made his feelings perfectly clear last night and he was gone this morning when I woke up.” I smiled ruefully. “So I suppose that’s an answer in itself.”
“Would you not talk to him about it? It would clear the air at least. I mean it’s going to be awkward – you live together for God’s sake.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a whole other issue,” I sighed. “I may as well tell you, Dawn –I’m going to have to leave here.”
It was the truth – there was no way I could stay here now.
“Oh come on, it was just a kiss, don’t be silly!” Dawn looked horrified at my suggestion.
Oh Dawn, it was so much more than a kiss . . .
“Dawn, I can’t stay now. I just can’t.”
“You could if things worked out between you two.”
“Dawn, there is no ‘us two’. It’s just never going to happen.”
“Well, don’t do anything hasty. Have a think about it and maybe talk to Mark tonight.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing.”
“Well, I guess shopping it is so,” said Dawn brightly, obviously seeing that a change of subject was needed. “So where’s your list? And don’t lie, I know you have one.”
She was right, I did have one. I was so conscious that this was the children’s first Christmas without their mother and I really wanted to help get them through it. I’d made so many plans that I was starting to feel sorry myself that I wouldn’t be at Meadowlands to share the day with them.
Instead, all I could do was leave Mark with everything he’d need. I’d written down everything they’d mentioned on their Santa letters and a lot more besides, and that was what I’d planned to get today and leave hidden in the loft.
The town was packed, predictably enough for two weeks before Christmas. I did my best to muster up some Christmas cheer but, what with the hangover and the remainder of the night’s complications, it was very difficult.
I just couldn’t get Mark Fielding out of my head. And I hated myself for it. For the indecision, the complication, the downright messiness of the whole situation.
Usually you crave this kind of excitement – what is wrong with you?
I had no idea.
For once even Dawn wasn’t much help. She too was a bit morose as it started to dawn on her that their first Christmas with Daniel was not going to be everything she’d planned.
“What are we like?” she finally sighed as we fought our way through the crowds, raucous clanging festive music ringing in our
ears.
“I know, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry too . . .”
A fat tear slipped down her cheek and I pulled her in for a hug.
“Holly Green – are you laughing?” she mumbled into my shoulder.
“Kind of,” I admitted. Because it was true, I was laughing. I couldn’t help it. A couple with less Christmas spirit you couldn’t have found.
She started to laugh too. “This is crap. Let’s just go home!”
“Okay,” I nodded and we linked arms and headed back to the car.
When we reached the village, a mad idea entered my head. I got Dawn to stop the car at Brophy’s butcher’s.
“I just want to get some sausages for the kids.”
I was lying. I’d had a crazy notion on the way home that it might be nice to cook dinner for myself and Mark – after all, the children weren’t coming back until the next morning, and it would give us a chance to talk. Dawn was right, I couldn’t leave things the way they were, and maybe a civilised meal would clarify everything, at the very least in my own head.
I had nothing to lose. Oliver had rung twice today but I’d ignored the first call and pretended I’d bad reception for the second.
I couldn’t talk to him at the moment. I felt guilty, selfish, but most of all, very, very confused.
As we drove into Meadowlands, my nerves started to jangle at the thought of seeing Mark again but then ironically changed to disappointment when there was no sign of his jeep outside.
“You going to be okay?” Dawn asked.
“Yep.” I nodded. “You?”
“I guess so.” She gave a rueful smile. “What kind of a pair are we? Do you want to call over later?”
“Maybe not tonight, Dawn – I think I’m going to get something to eat and go to bed. I didn’t get much sleep last night, as you know.”
“Sure. Well, give me a shout in the morning. Graham is dropping Daniel back at lunchtime so I might need an injection of moral support.”
I nodded as we went our separate ways. The house was cold and very, very quiet. There was no sign that Mark had returned at all during the day. Sighing, I headed to the tiny attic space beside my room with the bags of presents.
Between You and Me Page 33