Season's Meetings

by Amy Dunne

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Praise for Secret Lies

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Could the festive road trip from hell actually lead to love?

  Catherine Birch is a lonely workaholic who hates Christmas. This year, she is being forced to celebrate with her best friend’s family in the Highlands of Scotland. Having missed her flight, Catherine reluctantly ventures on a road trip with beautiful stranger Holly Daniels.

  Although polar opposites, the intense attraction between them is unmistakable. Just as Catherine begins to think spending Christmas with Holly might not be so bad, a raging snowstorm leaves them stranded in the middle of nowhere. Huddled together, with little chance of rescue, they forge a pact: if they escape, they’ll make this a Christmas to remember. But will it be remembered for the right reasons?

  Praise for Secret Lies

  “I’m impressed at how well Dunne balances the darker story lines against the burgeoning romance between the two main characters to produce a remarkably good first novel…Dunne captures the intensity of first love, weaving in all the overwhelming wonder and joy as well as the doubts and fears of coming out. Dunne has created characters that feel real and easy for the reader to connect with.”—C-Spot Reviews

  “When a book makes me laugh with intensity and can also bring me to tears, I stand up and take notice!”—Rainbow Book Reviews

  “This is Amy Dunne’s debut book and she is off to a flying start in the world of lesbian fiction. She’s shown she can pen a good book on extremely difficult topics. Abuse, self-harm, homophobia and two inexperienced young women embarking on their first lesbian romance together, comprises just a small part of this well written and researched story.”—Terry’s Lesfic Reviews

  “This is an excellent and enthralling first novel. Amy Dunne has caught the mood of 17-year-old emotions and experience brilliantly. On the one hand it is a tale of young adults emerging and exploring, with all the angst and melodrama that entails. On the other it is a serious exploration of both abuse and self-harm and the impact they have on these girls’ internal and public lives.”—Lesbian Reading Room

  “Secret Lies by Amy Dunne is a lesbian romance where you will find all the ingredients that make a wonderful story. Characters with whom you can relate on, difficult situations which are real and moving, and the promise of a happy ending for those who are courageous enough to fight for what they want…Amy Dunne surprised me with her characters, the perfect balance between dark and light scenes and the beautiful message based on self-respect, courage and how love can save you from the deeper abysms only if you’re willing to take risks. Thanks for a wonderful journey!”—Lesbian Fiction Reviews

  Season’s Meetings

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Season’s Meetings

  © 2014 By Amy Dunne. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-284-7

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: December 2014

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Lynda Sandoval and Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri (graphicartist2020@hotmail.com)

  By the Author

  Secret Lies

  Season’s Meetings

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I wish to thank everyone at BSB for their hard work, support, and guidance. Radclyffe, you remain a constant inspiration. Sandy Lowe, thank you for always being there to answer my never-ending list of questions and offer support. Sheri, I can’t express how much I love this cover—you’re incredible. Lynda Sandoval, thank you for showing infinite patience with me. I truly appreciate all of your hard work, time, sense of humour, and guidance. Cindy Cresap, thank you for helping me improve my writing—I only sighed and shook my head a few times. Ruth Sternglantz, thank you for always being there to offer advice, answer my questions, and make me laugh. Thank you to Connie Ward, Toni Whitaker, and everyone else who works tirelessly behind the scenes.

  I’d like to thank my family and friends for their unwavering love and support. I’m very blessed to have you all in my life. I’m fortunate that Christmas has always been a family affair. I look forward to the love, laughter, cheer, and closeness that we share every year, which is where the inspiration for this story came from. I love you all.

  The world is now a better place thanks to the birth of beautiful Charlotte Mary Redfern Carroll in 2014. Charlotte, I hope you and your family have a wonderful time celebrating your very first Christmas.

  I especially want to thank my mum, for listening to all of my mini meltdowns, believing in me, and supporting me during the whole writing process. I love you millions.

  Chrissie Baxter, thank you so much for your wonderful support. It means so much to me.

  Elizabeth Fisher, thank you for being a wonderful friend. I really appreciate your support, love, and laughter. You’re a star.

  And to the readers, thank you for your overwhelming support of my debut novel, Secret Lies. The response has been incredibly positive. Thank you for taking the time to write reviews, contact me directly, and share your thoughts. I hope you enjoy reading Season’s Meetings as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Lou, thank you for being my wife, best friend, and soul mate. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t appreciate everything you do for me and our little family. You’re the kindest, most selfless, and funniest person I’ve ever met. I love you with my heart, body, mind, and soul. For always.

  Finally, I have to thank our very own little cairn terrier, Kimmy. She’s the star of the cover and also features in this story. Thank you for all the doggy kisses, cuddles, slobbery toys, stubbornness, and the unconditional love you show us every day. Please try to not let the fame go to your little grey head, because you’re already a diva. Your mummies love you very much.

  Lou, I love you.

  Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Catherine Birch handed over a crisp note to the taxi driver. “Keep the change.” She climbed out of the wa
rm car and was immediately chilled by the icy evening air. She made her way up the stone steps to the apartment doors, pulling her coat up close to protect her face from the bitter wind. She hated the cold.

  Jeff the night porter opened the door and gave a nod. “Evening, Miss Birch. Not another late night at the office?” he asked.

  Catherine gave a tired sigh. “I’m starting to think fifteen-hour working days are normal.”

  His expression showed he was concerned. “You need to take it easy sometimes or else you’ll burn out.”

  “Night, Jeff. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She walked into the elevator and pressed the twentieth button. The circle lit up.

  “Good night, Miss Birch,” he said, as the elevator doors closed.

  She’d lived in the apartment for seven years, and Jeff had worked as night porter for the entire time. He’d known her from when she was fresh out of university brimming with potential and eager to go out into the world and make herself a success. He’d seen the five years Paula and she had spent living together in the apartment. Three years of happiness followed by two of hell. He’d also witnessed the last year and a half after Paula had left. Catherine had thrown herself into work to avoid being alone in the apartment.

  The elevator reached her floor. She took out her keys and opened the door to her apartment. Darkness greeted her and invoked the usual feeling of despair. It had been this way since Paula left.

  She locked the door, dropped her keys onto the dresser, and switched on the hallway lights. Her apartment remained mostly empty. Paula had taken all of her belongings, and Catherine hadn’t gotten around to replacing them.

  Every room in the apartment had white walls that she’d once considered light and refreshing. Now they were void of any sort of decoration and made the space feel large and cold.

  The mirror Granny Birch had given her as a present hung on the wall above the dresser. It had a vibrant rainbow mosaic border and remained the only thing in the hallway with colour. Catherine studied her reflection carefully. Her hair remained tied up in a professional bun without a single wisp being out of place. She scrutinized her hair carefully, searching for any of the stray grey strands that seemed to have appeared overnight a few months ago. She found none.

  Her eyes appeared larger through the lenses of her slim-framed designer glasses, but there was little sparkle in them. Her eyelashes were coated in black mascara that maximised their length and curl. Her eyebrows remained as she liked them, thin and perfectly styled. As she assessed the crow’s feet around her eyes and the rest of her face for any signs of future wrinkles, she nibbled on her lower lip. They didn’t look any worse, but they were still there. She promised herself as soon as they got noticeably worse she’d deal with them.

  “Botox,” she whispered under her breath. She cringed at the thought of having a needle inject her face. “Shit.”

  Her complexion still looked pale even with the additional colouring from the variety of makeup she wore. She’d lost a hell of a lot of weight since Paula had left. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d been this skinny.

  At work, her personal assistant, Eve, had been badgering her for months about her poor eating habits, but she’d dismissed them as interfering ramblings from the old woman. In truth, she had little interest in eating. Everything tasted bland and she got no enjoyment from the mundane task. Be that as it may, she made a silent promise to herself to try eating substantial food more often.

  She turned her attention away from the mirror and walked into the living room. The room consisted of a single brown leather chair, which had originally come as a pair. A large flat screen TV stood on a stand in a corner but had been unused since Paula’s departure. Three large bookshelves covered the back wall of the otherwise bare room, their shelves groaning beneath the volume of books filling them. An iPod and its docking station stood beside the phone and answering machine on a small table. Those were the few things that made up her living room—in which not much living was done.

  The answering machine’s red flashing light blinked at her from across the room. She didn’t usually get many calls, but recently she’d come home to a new voicemail every night from the same irritating person. She crossed the room and reluctantly pressed play.

  “Hi, Cat. It’s Beth, again. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were ignoring me…but you wouldn’t do that, would you? Especially not to one of the mothers of your only goddaughter.”

  Catherine rubbed her face with her hands, feeling guilty. She’d received all of the messages but had felt too exhausted and been too busy to reply. “Give me a break, Beth,” she said. The bedroom offered no respite for Catherine as she got changed; Beth’s voice was as relentless as she was in person and followed her.

  “I know the excuse is you’re busy at work and haven’t had a chance to reply.”

  Catherine pulled her shirt over her head. “I haven’t.”

  “That’s fine, but I want you to know one thing. I’m not going to give in and I’m not going away. Eventually, you’ll have to speak to me if only to get some peace. Florence is five now. You haven’t seen her since she was three.”

  Catherine pulled up her pyjama bottoms. “It hasn’t been two years!”

  “Two years, Cat. She’s started preschool. She can write her own name and tie her own laces. She never shuts up. And you’re missing out on it all. At this rate she’ll be going on eighteen before you next see her. Can you remember what she looks like?”

  Catherine made her way to the kitchen. “Yes, I remember what she looks like,” she said, annoyed at being harassed in her own home. “This is why I don’t return your calls.”

  “We want you to come and stay with us for Christmas and New Year celebrations.”

  Catherine froze, her heart began to pound, and her mouth went dry. You didn’t just say that! She grabbed a glass off the draining board and poured the dregs from the already opened bottle of red wine. She lifted the glass to her lips and gulped the liquid down.

  “This is your first Christmas without Granny Birch. I know you probably want to hide, pretend Christmas doesn’t exist, spend the time drinking it away and reading books, but we’re not going to let that happen.”

  Catherine placed the empty glass on the counter and wiped her mouth. “Why not? It sounds perfect.” She opened a cupboard, took out a new bottle of red, and with trembling hands began opening it.

  “You’re coming to spend it with us in our home, which you also haven’t seen since we moved in. There’s going to be us three and a few other close friends. You’ll get to see Florence open her presents. You’ll get to eat a proper Christmas dinner instead of a nasty frozen microwave meal for one. Please, Cat? Please say yes? For Katie, Florence, and me, please? Have a think about it and I’ll phone you tomorrow evening so we can talk. We love you.”

  Catherine poured another large glass of wine, not bothered that it hadn’t had time to breathe. She picked up the glass and hesitated before picking up the bottle and carrying them both into the living room. She sat in her chair, listening to the silence and drinking.

  She loved Beth, Katie, and Florence, but she couldn’t spend Christmas and New Year’s with them. It’d be unbearable.

  She’d always been forced to spend the holidays with Granny Birch. Family responsibility, tied with the ongoing threat this was probably her last Christmas on earth, had meant Catherine had been unable to refuse. When Paula and she were together, it’d been pleasant enough.

  The last two years had been quiet affairs shared with only Granny Birch and herself. She’d stayed over at Granny Birch’s house in the room she’d inhabited since she was nine. They’d spent their time eating, drinking, playing cards, and reading lots of books. Which were the same things they’d spent the last twenty-two years doing. As much as Catherine complained about it, she’d secretly always enjoyed going back home and spending time with Granny Birch.

  Six months ago, Granny Birch had passed away, leaving Catherine
all alone. She’d gone back to her house only once, to choose some mementos to keep. They were now stowed in two large boxes in the unused dining room. She hadn’t been sure what to do with the house. It’d been her home for some years, but primarily it’d been Granny Birch’s home, and when she’d last visited it’d been a different place. It’d been empty, with only haunting memories for company. In the end, she decided to sell the house. She’d never return to live there, and the house and garden, which had been Granny Birch’s pride and joy, deserved to be maintained and appreciated.

  The house was snapped up by a young family wanting to escape the city. Catherine felt sure Granny Birch would’ve approved of them. The money from the sale of the house, Granny Birch’s inheritance, and her parent’s inheritance all sat in her savings account growing with interest. With the exception of university fees and the purchase of the apartment, the majority of the money in her savings account remained untouched. She earned far more each month from her salary than she could spend and so a large percentage of her wages also went into the account.

  “I miss you, Granny Birch. I can’t believe you’ve left me here all alone.” She poured another glass of wine and sipped it. “How the hell am I going to get out of Christmas? Beth’s plain evil when she sets her mind to something.”

  For the next two hours, she tried to come up with a decent excuse to get out of spending Christmas with her only best friend and her lovely family. The more she thought about the sickly sweet celebrations, the presents, the tree, the colourful decorations, the holiday spirit, and the good cheer she’d have to fake, the more she drank to console herself. She decided to continue ignoring Beth’s calls for the time being. There were four weeks until Christmas, and if she tried hard enough, she might succeed in avoiding speaking to her altogether.

  “Bah, humbug.” She scowled at the empty wine bottle on the floor. “I love you, Beth, but I’m not spending Christmas with you. No way.” She sliced the air dramatically with one hand. “And another thing—” Her trail of thought was interrupted. She felt unwell and knew she’d made the fatal mistake of consuming the entire bottle of wine on an empty stomach. “I need to go to bed.”