All I Want For Christmas

by Willis, Susan

  Anne shifted in her seat. After what had happened she wasn’t sure if she could believe the compliments anymore. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever believe another word he said. ‘Well, that’s a lovely thing to say, but...,’ she paused, and looked away from him towards the window.

  Tom followed the direction of her eyes with his and then noticed that the photograph on the mantelpiece lay face down. When they’d first met, Tom had shown her a black & white photograph of himself wearing a black tux and white shirt and Anne had insisted upon having it framed and it had sat proudly in its place until now.

  He sighed. ‘But you don’t trust me anymore. Look, I know I’ve broken that trust. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d packed my bags this morning ready to chuck me out.’

  ‘Nooo,’ she stressed, ‘I’m not sure what I should do, but I don’t want to do that. My Dad used to say, ‘if you don’t know what to do – then do nothing and stand still for a while’.’

  Tom brooded, ‘Hmm, he was a wise man.’

  Anne felt uncomfortable with the focus on her, and needed more time to think about what he’d said. She decided to change the subject and asked about his family.

  Realising she knew very little about them, Tom took a deep breath and told her all about his sisters and mum. Now that he’d faced the traumatic experience of the past, he found he could talk about them without the ingrained fear in his mind. And, he reassured himself, because the fear only centred around one night, he should be able to recall the happy times he’d had with his sisters, and the few tender moments he’d shared with his mum – albeit it when she was drunk – but still he would treasure them now.

  Tom described them all and how silly the twins had been. He mused, ‘I wonder what they all look like now?’

  Anne watched his eyes light up as he talked about Jenny and how, at five years older than him, she’d been more like a mother. Anne said, ‘Well, I suppose we could try and trace them. Even if they’ve all moved from Brighton there’s bound to be a way to find them.’

  Tom’s heart filled with hope. She was talking about helping him with positive ideas for the future. Did this mean she was going to give him another chance? Praying it did, he nodded. ‘I’d like that, not at the moment though, but in time. I’d love to try and find them all again.’

  Anne smiled at him. This communication between them was so very different from how they usually behaved with each other, and she liked it. At last I’m playing a part in his life, she thought, and if, by helping him, there was a way forward out of this mess for us, then maybe I should take it.

  Tom was delighted to see her smile; it was her first that morning and he returned it warily. ‘Thanks, Anne,’ he said and took her hand in both of his. ‘You don’t know how much your support means to me.’

  This time she didn’t pull her hand away from his, but left it lying between his palms. She could feel the warmth of his skin and sighed with pleasure at the physical contact. He looked so different from the man he’d been and, she decided, in all the time they’d been together she’d never seen him look vulnerable. But he did now.

  Tom swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure if it was too early to ask, but decided to take the plunge. ‘I really want to change, Anne, and I know that I can. I probably don’t deserve this after the way I’ve hurt you, but do you think you could ever forgive me?’ he croaked. ‘I mean, do we have a chance of getting though this together?’

  ‘Well,’ Anne flustered between her thoughts - she didn’t want to give him false hope, but at the same time she wasn’t sure if she could do it. ‘I don’t know, Tom. All I know at the minute is that I don’t want you to go. Whether in time I can get over this, I’m honestly not sure. Even if I could forgive you, I’ll never ever forget what you’ve done.’

  Tom looked down. All the guilt he should have felt when he was having sex with Ellie and didn’t, flooded through him now and he cringed. Years ago he remembered a girlfriend telling him that he didn’t have a conscience and he knew now she was probably right. Whereas in the past he’d told himself it was because he loved women and wasn’t doing any harm, now he knew differently, and could see how his unacceptable behaviour had caused an enormous amount of pain to others, namely Anne and Ellie. I’m developing a conscience very quickly, he thought gravely.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Tom said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked, because if it had been the other way around, I know I couldn’t be as generous as you are being now.’

  Anne took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Look, I’m going to make some coffee and have a few minutes to myself,’ she said.

  Anne stood in the kitchen and switched on the kettle. She gazed around the small kitchen and sighed. Can I do it? And, do I love him enough to help him change? Although Anne was struggling to believe his words of endearments and compliments she did, however, believe in his wish to reform his character; she could see the genuine sincerity in his eyes. Pouring milk into the mugs Anne thought of what Sharon would say and do, but then reasoned − it didn’t matter what other women thought. Suddenly it dawned on her that she didn’t have to measure herself against anyone else. Tom was her husband and this marriage, for better or worse, was hers, and she had to make her own decisions as she saw fit.

  Anne made the coffee and watched the brown liquid swirl as she stirred in the sugar. Could they get through this together and make it work? Or, if he didn’t change and continued to see other women, would she only be heading for more heartache in the future? He’d already said that it would be much easier if she would support him and she thought of the alternative if she didn’t. If she threw him out and ended their marriage she’d never know the answer, and would always wonder if they could have worked it out.

  Anne returned with the coffee and sat down next to him. ‘Drink this,’ she said. ‘I’ve put some sugar in – it’s good for upset and shock.’

  Tom smiled at her and, unable to stop himself, he played with a tendril of her hair. It was a natural, loving gesture, which, although not sexual in nature, meant so much to him. He breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t pull away.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Tom’ she said carefully. ‘All I can say for now is let’s just take it day by day, and see how we get along.’

  He stood up and punched the air, whooping with joy. ‘Sorry,’ he apologised and quickly sat down next to her again. ‘I’m just so pleased you’re willing to give me another chance, Anne. I won’t let you down, love. I’ll do everything and anything you ask to help you trust in me again.’

  Anne smiled and nodded. ‘Okay, we’ll see. Let’s just take one step at a time,’ she said, sipping her coffee.

  Tom grinned. ‘Can I get you a biscuit? Or maybe make us something to eat?’

  ‘No,’ she said shaking her head. ‘I’m fine, but my head’s spinning with everything. Can we just be normal for a while and do everyday things? Sometimes it helps to empty my mind.’

  Tom agreed and found the remote control for the TV. ‘Good idea, let’s watch a bit of meaningless rubbish on the box.’

  They settled back together and Tom fought the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders. He was so glad, he decided, first to still be there and not checking into a hotel, and also that Anne was trying to find a way through for them. Her strength throughout the last couple of days amazed him and, although she usually came across to people as timid and indecisive, he’d watched her rise to the challenge of this major upheaval with great resolve. As he flicked through the channels he told her his thoughts and how proud he was of her commitment to their marriage, while she patted the back of his hand.

  Tom stopped at a channel with The Jeremy Kyle show, but when they heard a young couple screaming at one another, Anne shook her head and pursed her lips and he nodded in agreement. Continuing his search, he found an American film on channel five and they lapsed into silence, watching the family on screen living the perfect dream. Everything in the couple’s world appeared to be going swimmingly until their daughter disap
peared on the way home from school and the whole family was thrown into turmoil.

  Tom watched the husband’s performance closely and the torment that was apparent in the actor’s face and eyes. He wondered how difficult it would be to write this scene and looked at Anne, who was engrossed in the film. He saw her eyes crinkle then glisten with unshed tears as the wife tried to cope with a screaming baby at the same time as the trauma of her missing daughter.

  The terror this man is experiencing as a father is something totally alien to me, Tom thought. In the past, when Anne had mentioned going to the doctor because she was desperate to have a baby, he’d thought about the possibility, but only half-heartedly. If he was totally honest, although the idea of a baby sounded okay, the actual reality was scary, and he wasn’t sure if he was capable of being unselfish enough to put the child first. He remembered comments Anne had made in the last few months about how one day they’d have their own little family. He sighed, wondering if that would still be an option.

  Anne turned to him. ‘At the risk of us talking again,’ she said. ‘I just wondered if you’d thought of trying to find Amanda and your son or daughter.’

  Her last few words shook him to the very core. In all the years since he’d fled from Brighton, he’d never given a moment’s thought to the fact that he was actually a father. Tom knew he was gaping at Anne and struggled to make his mouth work with an answer. ‘I, well, I don’t know. I…I’ve never even thought about that.’

  Anne raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, maybe you should, because no matter whether it was a boy or girl that Amanda gave birth to, he or she is still your child; your own flesh and blood.’

  Tom let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he was holding, and stared at the soft tender expression in her eyes. Quietly, he repeated her words, his own flesh and blood.

  After the upheaval he’d been through as a teenager, his own family hadn’t figured at all in his life, but now, as his mind processed these new thoughts, he began to realise the huge impact it could have on a person’s life. Your childhood, good or bad, shaped you into the adult you became. Obviously, he sighed, I’ve ended up what some people would call a little twisted because of my background, but other people’s histories, like Anne’s, shaped their lives in a good way. Anne’s parents had doted upon her, and even though her father committed suicide, it hadn’t affected her in a peculiar way.

  Tom began to peel back the layers of his family and the only peer figure they’d had to follow – his mother. He struggled to remember even one weekend when she’d been sober, but he couldn’t, and knew now that she’d obviously drowned her relationship sorrows in a bottle. She hadn’t been a particularly stable presence in their lives and even his sisters had never felt a sense of belonging, especially Jenny. He remembered Jenny often saying that as soon as she was old enough she’d leave home to find a better place. Tom pondered; I wonder where she is and what she’s doing? He remembered how, out of the whole household, she’d been the one that he’d felt a deeper love and stronger personal attachment to, and how she’d continually shown him kindness and affection.

  He turned and smiled at Anne. ‘Maybe if we tried to find Jenny, she might know if I’ve got a son or daughter?’

  ‘Well, that would definitely be a start,’ she said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. ‘I’ll help if you want me to.’

  Tom nodded thoughtfully. He wondered if his child had had a better upbringing than he’d had, and earnestly hoped this was true. Although he’d never met him or her, when he imagined what his sixteen year old child would look like he felt a twist of emotion in his gut at the possibility that they’d been neglected, or ill, or abused in any shape or form. This, he knew, was how other men felt about their children and he cursed himself for being such a coward over the years and indeed, for locking away all his feelings. If only I could have come to terms with my past earlier, he thought, I might have stood a chance of becoming some type of father to this child or, as Anne had just said, his own flesh and blood.

  ‘Let’s go upstairs on to the internet and make a start,’ Anne said. ‘It will be something we can do together.’

  Tom jumped up and took her arm. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d like that.’

  He felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he climbed the stairs with her. I want to change and be like other family men, he thought, but more than anything else, I want to be a better man.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Four months later, Anne sat next to Tom on a train that pulled slowly out of Newcastle Central Station and chugged its way across the bridge over to Gateshead, picking up speed towards Durham. They were making the long journey down to Brighton to finally meet Jenny. Anne glanced nervously at Tom who, dressed in a brown tweed jacket and beige chinos, stared out of the window. He’d changed his clothes three times that morning and when she’d complained, he’d told her that he simply wanted to look his best when he met his sister again.

  Anne could tell he was anxious as she watched him picking at the skin on his thumb nail and she sighed. She prayed the weekend visit was going to be all right, as Tom had vested so much of his time arranging everything and had his hopes well and truly built up that it was going to be a happy reunion.

  They’d found Jenny quite easily as she still lived in Brighton, and Tom had enjoyed a few telephone conversations with her, but unfortunately he’d also found out that his mother had died four years before. According to Jenny, she’d fallen down drunk in the dark when climbing off a bus and had been crushed under the wheels. This news had been a blow and Tom brooded for weeks about what might have been and what he should or could have done to help his mother’s situation. Jenny, however, had protested that nobody could have done anything, as in the end she’d been a hardened alcoholic and was past redemption. From their first telephone call, Jenny promised to get in touch with Amanda, who now lived in nearby Worthing, to ask if Tom could meet his son. But in the last few conversations, before Jenny had invited them down for a weekend, his sister hadn’t had any response from Amanda, and they were still none the wiser as to whether Tom would be able to meet him.

  Anne smiled now, remembering how Tom had danced a jig around the kitchen when he’d heard he had a son whose name was Thomas. ‘She called him after me!’ he shouted, scooping her up into his arms.

  As the train left York, Anne went along to the buffet carriage and returned with bacon rolls and mugs of hot coffee. Tom pounced on the rolls and ate his hungrily while Anne smiled at him in compatible ease. This was how they were together now, still man and wife, and extremely active in the bedroom, but also the best of friends. As she sipped her coffee and watched Tom boot up his tablet to start writing, she cast her mind back to the day when she’d found out about Ellie and thought her world had fallen apart.

  It had been a difficult few weeks afterwards, and she would always remember them filled with hurt and painful anger, but in another way it had been a brand new start to their marriage, which was now a hundred times better than it had ever been. Tom hardly strayed from her side and told her every day how much he loved her and how sorry he was that he’d hurt her. He said it over and over again until last week when she’d thrown her hands up in the air. ‘Enough!’ she’d shouted. ‘You don’t have to keep apologising to me every day; we’re okay now.’

  Tom had wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. ‘Oh, but I do,’ he said. ‘I’m going to keep on saying it until you believe how awful I feel for hurting you.’ Then he carried her upstairs and made love to her twice before she fell asleep lying on his chest.

  Anne munched the roll and sipped her coffee, hoping that the food would help to quell the queasy feelings in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was simply nervous excitement for the visit ahead, or a sense of foreboding that Tom was going to face more disappointment. In all fairness, she thought, looking at him; he had coped with the transition from an orphan-like status into a man with a family and a past extremely well. He’d put on w
eight, hardly left the house, and spent eight to nine hours a day writing. He frequently commented on how content and happy he felt. Her meal was prepared every night when she returned from work, and the more he cooked the better he became at delving into new recipes and different food combinations. The chef at work gave her suggestions and recipes for Tom and she reported back to him every morning on how delicious the meal had been. All in all, Anne thought, she too felt happier than she’d ever dreamt she could. She knew it was going to take a while longer before she could put her hand on her heart and honestly say she trusted him completely, but she repeatedly told herself that she’d been right to give him the chance to prove himself.

  ‘Didn’t you bring your book to read, darling,’ Tom asked, smiling at her. ‘It’s another hour to London and then an hour after we change trains.’

  Anne smiled and snuck her head into his shoulder. ‘Yes, it’s in my bag. I was just thinking and mulling things over in my mind for a while.’

  ‘I hope you’re not worried about the visit. Because I’m sure everything will work out just fine,’ he said. ‘Even if Jenny hasn’t had word from Amanda and Thomas, it’ll be an absolute pleasure to meet her. If I have to wait longer to meet Thomas, then so be it…,’

  ‘No, I’m not worried,’ she said. ‘I’m just relaxing after a busy week at work, that’s all.’

  Tom nodded and began typing again as she felt her eyelids droop and dozed off to sleep.

  *

  At two in the afternoon Brighton Station was busy, with throngs of people on the move pulling and carrying cases. Tom threw their overnight holdall down on to the platform and turned to help Anne down the steps from the train. The platform was busy and a large group of school children were shouting and running circles around the teachers who were meant to be supervising them.