All I Want For Christmas

by Willis, Susan

  She looked across the table at Tom and caught him staring into her eyes. Ellie felt as though an electric current was running between them and took hold of the hand that was lying on the table. She longed to kiss him again as they had in the park, and wondered if she should ask him back to her flat for coffee. Smouldering passion seemed to darken his eyes and she could tell he felt the same as she did. Was it too soon to ask him?

  ‘I don’t want tonight to end,’ he said. ‘I feel in some way as though it’s just beginning for us.’

  Ellie nodded and squeezed his hand. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from his, they seemed to be boring into her insides. ‘M…me too.’

  Tom hadn’t the courage to invite himself back to her flat, but felt desperate to be closer to her. She looked so gorgeous in that dress and he wanted to show her off. He peeled his stare from her and pushed back his chair. ‘How about a club?’ he asked. ‘I’m not much of a dancer, but I’ll certainly give it a whirl.’

  Ellie giggled. ‘That sounds great. Even if we don’t dance, we can have another drink and talk some more.’

  They walked towards the quayside and this time Tom confidently draped his arm along her shoulders as they laughed over a joke, and then pulled her further into his side. With the effects of the wine making him feel mellow and carefree he wanted to shout and laugh out loud with giddy happiness.

  The night club was dark inside and crammed with people jostling to be served at the bar. Tom managed to get two bottles of Bacardi Breezes and they stood to one side, watching people dancing on the small, square dance floor. He kept his arm around her waist all the time she talked about her family home in a small Yorkshire village and how, although she missed her parents, she loved the night life in the city. They danced and talked and drank until the early hours and when a slow love song played, Tom pulled her on to the dance floor again. They were hampered by couples squeezed into a small area, but Ellie wound her arms around his neck and began to move slowly and sensually to the music.

  Tendrils of her curly hair had escaped from the top-knot and Tom wound a finger into one of the curls, tipped her head back slightly then kissed her hard. She responded greedily and he pulled her further into his chest. Breaking for air, he dragged his lips down her long neck and nipped her ear lobe between his teeth. Her skin was so soft and smooth that he felt a physical ache in his groins. He could feel her full breasts pushed against his chest and drunkenly wondered if she was wearing one of the wonder bras that he’d seen advertised in magazines. They were supposed to make a woman’s cleavage look bigger than it actually was. Hmm, he mused, maybe Ellie’s weren’t as big as he first thought, but he shrugged, whatever they were they’d still be more than a good handful.

  As they left the dance floor Tom grabbed her hand and pulled her though the throngs of people to an empty table in the corner where the light was very dim. She sat next to him and looked into his eyes as he laid a hand on her throat, tilting her head back and kissing her deeply.

  Ellie moaned softly at the desire spreading through her body and decided that his lips were so amazing she could go on kissing him forever; she never wanted to be parted from them. He used his tongue to show her how aroused he was and she nipped the end of it between her teeth. She gave a little gasp as she felt his other hand hover over the outside of her dress. He must want to touch me, she thought, and spied over his shoulder at people sitting nearby. In the dim light no one was taking any notice of them and when she spotted another couple devouring each other with legs and arms intertwined, Ellie moaned louder, hoping to encourage him as now she was desperate to feel his touch.

  Tom groaned and placed his hand on her left breast. It more than filled his hand and he began to fondle and squeeze as he revelled in the untold joy that tore through him. He could feel the ridge of the half cup bra and knew for certain that the bra wasn’t padded or enhanced in any way – what he could feel was all one big fabulous breast. Tom wished with all his heart that she was naked so he could see her breasts and take the nipples into his mouth. Jeez, he sighed, they actually were as superb as he’d first thought and felt the zip on his trousers tighten.

  As the DJ announced that it was nearly one o’clock, Tom reluctantly removed his hands from Ellie and knew he’d have to get home sooner rather than later.

  ‘Ellie,’ he said taking both her hands into his. ‘You are absolutely gorgeous and I can’t wait to be with you, but I’ve had too much to drink tonight and when I do make love to you I want to remember every single second.’

  Ellie couldn’t help but sigh with disappointment. She wanted him so badly now she would have done just about anything to stay with him. But as she stood up and wobbled on her heels she realised how right he was and that she too was quite drunk. With his arm wrapped tightly around her Tom guided her outside and into the back of a taxi, which dropped her outside the flat. He made sure the taxi waited until she stepped inside the hallway before pulling away from the kerb.

  As she floated through into her bedroom Ellie’s last thoughts before drifting into darkness was what a perfect gentleman Tom was.

  Chapter Five

  Anne Shepherd stood in the factory where she’d worked since she was eighteen. The factory lay on the outskirts of Newcastle and they manufactured ready-meals. She loved her job now, having progressed over the years from working on the production lines to helping the development chef make up samples in his kitchen. Earlier in the day the chef had given her a list of ingredients that needed to be collected from the factory and, near four o’clock in the afternoon, Anne had ticked off everything on his list other than the grilled chicken.

  Anne stood at the end of the conveyor belt that transported the chicken from the griddle oven down through a blast cooler and into a stainless steel tub. The shift manager had had earlier problems with the oven, but now that the engineers had worked their magic they were all waiting patiently for the first batch of chicken to come through the process.

  The noise in the factory, of loud machinery, staff shouting and talking, all went on around her as she was lost in deep thought about Tom. Her main worry for the week, and Anne was the first to admit that she was the world’s worst worrier, was about his new writing scheme and the fact that she’d handed him £400. She chewed the inside of her lip. Her father’s inheritance hadn’t lasted as long as she’d hoped it would and now, after she’d bought their house outright, furnished it, paid for their wedding and honeymoon, there wasn’t a great deal left. She sighed heavily, knowing there certainly wasn’t enough to lose £400, but what was the alternative?

  She could never refuse Tom anything, money, holidays, or even sex. Not that she would ever want to refuse him she thought dreamily, remembering how he’d made love to her in front of the fire on Wednesday night. She felt her cheeks flush with the memory of how he’d pulled her on top of him for a second session, which quite frankly had lasted twice as long as the first, and how he’d taken her to an earth-shattering climax. No, she smiled fondly, no woman in their right mind could ever refuse Tom’s love making. He was quite simply, a master of technique.

  If Anne ever told Tom that she was worried about spending the money, he would console her with the fact that property was the safest and wisest place to put money these days. This would settle her mind for a few days before she’d start worrying again about the future, especially now that he had been made redundant.

  Anne heard the shift manager call out that the chicken was on its way along the belt and she positioned herself ready to collect the best looking pieces. She hated the very word redundancy and shivered, feeling the cold atmosphere in the factory seep through her factory overall. Anne had watched her father be made redundant in his fifties and how it had subsequently ruined their lives. Despondent after two years of her father’s mood-swings and depression, her mother had left them, and her father had quite literally wizened away, sitting in a fireside chair until one day he committed suicide. Redundancy had broken her family apart.

&nbs
p; Anne shook herself out of her reverie and began to collect a mixture of large and small fillet pieces of cooked chicken. She placed them in a clean blue bag and returned through the factory to the development kitchen. The kitchen was a small room at the end of the factory, where she spent most of her eight-hour shift. It was part of her job to keep the kitchen clean and well stocked for the chef’s work and she took great pride in the fact that he’d never once had cause for complaint. Anne placed the bag of chicken into the large fridge along with the other ingredients and then, after removing her white coat and hair net, she hurried along to the locker room.

  As Anne pulled on her brown puffer jacket, her friend Sharon, lumbered through the door into the tiny locker room, cursing under her breath that she’d just worked the shift from hell. Anne smiled and stood against the wall to allow Sharon to squeeze past and open her locker.

  ‘There’s not much room in here for our two big fat bottoms,’ Sharon cackled, pulling on her duffle coat.

  Although Anne knew her friend was teasing and usually would have joined in with her laughter, today the remark made her sigh unhappily. Sharon, a big, cumbersome lady in her late forties with three grown up children, was happily married to a man who was even bigger than she was. Anne followed her friend out of the locker room and up the stairs to the clocking-out machine, half listening to Sharon’s tirade, but had other thoughts in her mind. At least Sharon didn’t have to strive in a continual battle against her weight, Anne grumbled to herself. Sharon and her husband were perfectly happy in their fat lifestyle, regularly proclaiming how much they loved their food.

  Anne usually gave Sharon a lift home after work and they made their way across the car park, calling farewell to the rest of the shift who were all heading for home.

  ‘How’s the diet going?’ Sharon asked, squeezing herself into the passenger seat in Anne’s Micra.

  Anne sighed. ‘Not so good. I was sticking to the diet sheet up until Wednesday when Tom made us beef bourguignon for supper and I couldn’t resist clearing my plate, as per usual, and we drank a bottle of Chablis with it.’

  Sharon smacked her lips together. ‘Mmmm, sounds like heaven to me,’ she said. ‘I can’t think of a nicer way to spend an evening with your hubby. But you look really fed up today. What’s the matter?’

  Anne started the ignition and frowned. She told Sharon about the writing course and the £400 and then watched her friend’s eyebrows draw together.

  ‘Hmm,’ Sharon sniped, ‘you should know by now that anything Tom comes up with revolves around money.’

  Anne could feel her friend’s eyes on her hot cheeks as she drove out of the car park and nodded miserably. She knew it was disloyal to talk about Tom in such a manner, but Sharon was the closest friend she had, and in some respects Anne often thought of her as the big sister she’d never had. However, Sharon had never liked Tom from the first day Anne introduced them, and she certainly wasn’t the type of lady to keep her opinions to herself.

  Anne pursed her lips. ‘Yeah, I know, but it’s not his fault that he was made redundant and I thought that it would help to occupy his mind until he gets another job. I suppose it’s a small price to pay so that he doesn’t end up like…,’ Anne paused and chewed the inside of her lip. ‘Well, like my dad.’

  ‘Oh, love,’ Sharon said. ‘We’ve been over this time and time again since Tom lost his job. Not every man that gets made redundant deals with it like your dad. As hard as it is, you have to try and stop fretting that the same thing will happen again, because it won’t.’

  Anne pulled up at a junction and relaxed her shoulders. She loved Sharon’s calm voice and reassuring manner; it always made her feel so much better. And of course, Sharon was right, once again she was just worrying unnecessarily. Tom would pay the money back as soon as he got another job or, as he seemed to think, when he’d sold something to a magazine. She let out a deep breath. ‘Thanks, Sharon,’ she said. ‘I know you’re right, and I’m just being silly worrying about the money.’

  Sharon put her chubby hand on Anne’s knee and squeezed it firmly. ‘I didn’t say that,’ she warned. ‘I think you are being daft worrying that Tom might commit suicide if he has no work and can’t provide for his wife, because he couldn’t give a jot about anyone but himself. He knows you are always there to pick up the pieces and give him money. But you’re not daft to worry about £400; it’s an awful lot of money to waste on a hare-brained scheme.’

  Silence settled between them in the car and Anne took a breath of resignation as she drove into Sharon’s street and pulled up outside her bungalow.

  Sharon said. ‘Look, Anne, I’m sorry to hurt your feelings, but I think you know deep down inside that what I’m saying is true. I just can’t bear to see you hurt and upset again.’

  Anne melted, swallowing a huge lump in her throat. ‘I know you’re only looking out for me like a friend should, but I…I do love him.’

  Sharon opened the car door and swung one of her big legs out. ‘Love him or not, if it was me I’d ring the bank and put a stop on that cheque,’ she said as she climbed out of the car, pulling her skirt down as she walked up the path and turned to wave.

  Anne pulled away from the kerb with her bottom lip trembling. She’d listened to Sharon slagging off Tom continually for weeks before their wedding. Even her own mother had said virtually the same before she left, but Anne hadn’t wanted to listen to a word from either of them. She adored Tom, and had gone ahead and married him after a three-month whirlwind romance. Her mother had said that Tom was a no-good waster, and Sharon had simply said that he wasn’t the marrying kind. But Anne knew this was because they didn’t know the real Tom, the Tom who told her she was definitely not a plain Jane and that in his eyes she was beautiful, and everything he could possibly want in a woman.

  As Anne parked outside their house she remembered the first day she’d met Tom in the park when she was walking her dog, Sammy. She’d been happily humming to herself and wandering aimlessly around the flower beds when she’d spotted Tom. Suddenly, Sammy had bounded up to him and fastened himself on to Tom’s leg, making humping movements. Tom had tried to untangle himself, but Sammy didn’t want to let go and Anne had ran over to pull the dog away. She tried to chastise Sammy, but was giggling at the same time.

  ‘Oh dear,’ she said, ‘I'm so sorry. I haven't had him done yet and he's a little frisky today.’

  ‘It's okay,’ Tom laughed. ‘I’m feeling a bit like that myself.’

  He’d given her his love-to-get-to-know-you smile, and she’d stared into his gorgeous eyes while apprehensively smoothing down the back of her hair. At the time Anne had felt so desperate to be loved and comforted that she simply couldn't resist him.

  Anne hurried up the path now, needing to go to the bathroom. She struggled to turn the key in the lock and tutted, there’s not much chance of Tom mending this now he is going to write the country’s best-selling novel.

  Anne hurried up to the bathroom and found a box of tampons in the cabinet. They’d had a lengthy discussion before they were married about having a baby because, at the age of thirty six, Anne knew her childbearing days were numbered. As she sat on the toilet she laid her face against the cool wall tiles and sighed. Why wasn’t it happening? It was nearly nine months since the first time she’d slept with Tom and she’d never used any form of contraception. Maybe it was time to make an appointment at the doctor’s and make sure there wasn’t anything wrong. But, remembering one day last week when she’d broached the subject, and how Tom had refused to even discuss it, she sighed heavily. He reckoned they had plenty of time.

  Anne heard Tom come through the front door and call her name upstairs. Wearily she got up, washed her hands and went downstairs.

  Chapter Six

  Walking through the doors into the market, Tom thought of the texts that Ellie had sent over the weekend thanking him for a great Friday night, and his chest bubbled with excitement. If he’d been eager going to meet her on Friday, it was n
othing to how he felt now. He was determined to get her into bed this afternoon and make love to her. She’d been well up for it in the club, and so had he, but he wanted it to be special and of course he hadn’t wanted Anne to worry if he was out all night.

  It was just before one in the afternoon and the market was busy with shoppers. He’d purposely waited until later in the day so they didn’t have to mess around with coffee in the café. He saw Ellie helping a lady choose her books and waved across to her. Lounging at the side of the book stall Tom stared at Ellie’s figure in tight jeans and a cream polo neck jumper and imagined peeling them from her. He remembered the black dress on Friday and how fantastic she’d looked, and then thought of the American expression – he felt like a million dollars.

  They walked hand in hand through the Dene up towards her flat, chatting and reminiscing about the lovely meal they’d had and the wacky dance club. There was no unease between them now and it was as if they both knew that this was the right time, as they’d both waited long enough.

  Ellie took his hand the moment they entered the flat and walked him along the corridor to her bedroom. Casually she waved her other hand as they passed further rooms. ‘That’s the lounge and bathroom, and my old flatmate’s room, and this…’ she said, pausing in the doorway, ‘is my bedroom.’

  Tom looked down at her beautiful face and then suddenly put an arm around her shoulders and the other under her legs and swept her up, carrying her to the bed in the corner of the room.

  Ellie giggled. ‘Oh, Tom,’ she cooed into his ear, ‘I’ve been longing for this moment.’

  Carefully Tom laid her on the bed and began to kiss her as she wriggled and squirmed underneath him. ‘I can’t wait any longer, either,’ he said. ‘From the moment I saw you, this is all I’ve wanted to do.’

  The moment was finally here, he thought, feeling so stirred-up that he could hardly breathe. At last he was going to see these fabulous breasts and have them in his hands. He pulled her polo neck jumper over her head and lay next to her. He stroked along the lace edge of her bra and then across her flesh that was now quivering with his touch. Just as he planned to sit her up and undo the back strap he noticed the small clasp in the front and sighed with joy – a front fastener. Ellie lay staring at him and he smiled down at her. ‘May I?’