All I Want For Christmas

by Willis, Susan

  Tom swallowed hard as he peered above people’s heads, wondering if he would recognise Jenny, who intended to meet them off the train. He wondered how he should greet Jenny after all their years apart and, although she sounded warm and friendly on the telephone, he wasn’t sure if a peck on the cheek would suffice, or maybe he should try a hug? Just as Anne suggested that Jenny could well be waiting for them at the front of the station in the waiting room, Tom heard Jenny’s voice call his name, and saw her laughing and hurrying down the platform towards them.

  ‘Tom!’ Jenny cried. ‘Oh my goodness, just look at you!’

  Tom’s heart filled with joy as he saw her scurrying towards him. He dropped the holdall and ran to her. Jenny’s dark shining hair flew back from her face and he knew he would have recognised her anywhere. He flung his arms around her and hugged her tightly as Jenny stood up on her toes and clung to his embrace.

  Choking back tears of emotion, Tom held on tightly. ‘Oh, Jenny,’ he croaked, ‘it’s so good to see you again.’

  ‘And you, my little brother,’ she said, pulling back to hold him at arms’ length.

  Tom could see his sister’s eyes water and he swallowed a lump in his throat which felt the size of a golf ball.

  Jenny looked past him and declared, ‘And this must be your Anne.’

  Momentarily he’d forgotten about Anne, and automatically he rushed to take the holdall from her. He draped an arm around her shoulder and presented his wife to Jenny. Anne went to shake her hand, but instead Jenny hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘It’s lovely to have a sister-in–law. I didn’t know about,’ Jenny said. ‘I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.’

  Jenny tucked her arm through Anne’s and then slotted her other arm through Tom’s as they made their way to the front of the station, chatting all the while. By the time they’d reached Jenny’s home in a street near Brighton Park, Tom was completely relaxed and thoroughly enjoying himself. It had been a trip full of old memories for him, as she drove through the centre and weaved her way around the streets near The Pavilion and finally, along the sea front. Jenny pointed out the local attractions to Anne and told her that hopefully they’d have time to see the main sights over the weekend.

  *

  Jenny’s husband, Mike, waited for them at the front door and shook Tom’s hand warmly while Jenny showed Anne upstairs to their guest bedroom and bathroom. Tom liked Mike immediately and the two men chatted about the journey on the train, and how busy London had been. When the women returned they all sat together in the lounge and Jenny made coffee.

  It was a large Victorian property, Tom noticed, with the original ceiling coving and a wide feature fireplace. They sat comfortably on a big settee and two matching fireside chairs and Jenny explained how they’d bought the house in a ramshackle state when they were first married. But over the years they’d patiently saved money and renovated the house room by room. Mike worked as an accountant in the town and they had one daughter, Sarah, who was now doing an art degree at university.

  Jenny joked, ‘I don’t know where she gets the artistic streak from – certainly not from our side of the family, eh, Tom?’

  Tom looked properly at his sister now and grinned. Her face, although a little more lined, was virtually the same. Her black hair held only a few strands of grey and her big eyes twinkled and shone as they’d always done. Dressed in a lilac shirt and grey linen trousers, she was still as stick thin as she’d been in her teens.

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘We certainly had our own special qualities and were very colourful at times, but I can’t think we were artistic.’

  They all laughed and Anne told them proudly about Tom’s writing, and for some inexplicable reason, Tom felt his face blushing. He couldn’t think for one minute that it would matter to Jenny what he’d done with his life, but he wanted her to be proud of him in some way. Up until he’d started to write there hadn’t been much to boast about.

  While Mike talked to Anne about her job assisting the chef and they became animated about cooking and recipes, Jenny sat close to Tom and told him about the rest of the family. His twin sisters were living in Ireland, where they’d married two local farmers who were also brothers. Jenny stood up to cross the room, where she picked up a photograph of them from the fireplace.

  ‘They’ve got a girl and a boy each,’ Jenny told him. ‘So you’re an uncle five times over.’

  Jenny explained about her last holiday in Dublin and how she’d stayed on the farm with them all. ‘I’ve told them about your visit today and they’re going to ring us tonight after supper to say hello,’ she said. ‘And Sarah is ringing tomorrow. I have to tell you that she’s desperately sorry she’s not here to meet her Uncle Tom, but sends her love.’

  Tom looked at the photographs of the twins and their children, and then another photograph of Sarah. This is my family, he thought, these are my nieces and nephews that I’ve never met, but already they want to welcome me back. It’s as though I’ve never been away. Tom’s recollections of his sisters were as they had been aged eighteen when he’d last seen them, but here they were grown women with their own children.

  He sighed and looked at Jenny, ‘I’ve missed out on an awful lot.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter, Tom,’ Jenny said, squeezing his arm. ‘What matters now is that you’re here and from here on we don’t lose each other again.’

  And that was it, Tom thought, that was the true meaning of having your own family. It was what Anne had tried to impress on him, but he’d never quite understood. Family were there for you whatever happened in your life. They picked you up in hard times and shared your joy in happy times. He’d read a saying last week which said a family was your heart and soul and as he sat close to Jenny, he nodded in agreement at those words – now he totally got it.

  Anne and Mike had moved through to the kitchen to prepare their meal, which left Jenny time to tell Tom the most important update from Amanda.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tom,’ Jenny said. ‘I know how much you’d hoped to meet him, but Amanda has emailed to say that Thomas doesn’t want to see you.’

  Tom digested the news like a kick in the gut. Jenny had told him on the telephone that Amanda was happily married with another two girls born after she’d had Thomas, and that he adored his step-father. But Tom had half-hoped that Amanda would want Thomas to meet his biological father.

  Fighting back disappointment, Tom took a deep breath. ‘Ah, now that is a shame. I’d have loved to meet him. Anne will tell you I danced a jig in the kitchen when I heard she’d called him Thomas.’

  Jenny fidgeted with a pearl necklace she wore and twirled the strand around her long thin fingers.

  He could tell she was edging away from saying more. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘If there’s more, just tell me, Jenny.’

  Well,’ she said, ‘Amanda didn’t call him Thomas after you, because at the time she hated you. She christened him Thomas after her own father. For months after you’d fled she pestered me, convinced that I knew where you’d gone, but she finally gave up. I’ve never seen Thomas for years either, although I always send him a birthday and Christmas card with a little money, because at the end of the day he’s still my nephew. But I won’t give up, Tom. I’ll keep trying. Maybe, when he’s an adult…,’

  Tom nodded, thinking about the news as Anne came into the lounge followed by Mike.

  ‘Is it okay if I have a quick shower and change before dinner?’ Anne asked. ‘I’ve been sitting in these trousers all day on the train.’

  Jenny jumped up and Tom followed them upstairs, agreeing that a shower was just what he needed, too. He knew this small interlude would also give him time to think about Thomas and how to handle the situation.

  Anne sat on the double bed in the guest room, which was painted in an alabaster grey with warm yellow tones. The large quilt and bedcover blended beautifully with the white wardrobe and dressing table, and she looked around the room, watching Tom pace back
wards and forwards as he told her the news. Her heart ached for him and she tried a couple of times to take his hand as he passed her, but he shrugged it off, and she knew it was best to let him talk and run out of steam before she said any more. As they took turns to shower, they talked about Thomas and agreed the best thing to do was wait and see what happened in the future. Anne agreed with Tom that it wouldn’t be fair to ask Jenny for Amanda’s email address, as this would place his sister in an awkward position.

  Following a great night, where Tom talked first to his sisters, Hannah and then Hettie, he promised them both that a trip to Ireland would be next on his holiday list. Sarah gabbled and chatted to him on the telephone as though she’d known him all her life, and he could tell by her voice that she was a carbon copy of Jenny. He heard the same human kindness and compassion that Jenny possessed, and promised his niece a trip to Newcastle, where she could go to the bars and clubs.

  *

  On Saturday morning Jenny took Tom to the remembrance garden where, although she’d not had much money, she’d had a small stone set with their mother’s name. They talked about her for most of the morning and Jenny told him how she’d tried to help, but after a few years Mike had stopped her from handing over money, because all their mother spent it on was more alcohol. At the end she’d become what was commonly known as a drunken lush. Tom’s two aunties were much the same and still led the party life, which Jenny proclaimed was a pitiful sight to see as they were now in their late fifties.

  As Jenny and Tom stood together in front of the stone in the memorial garden, Anne watched them together, feeling tears prick the back of her eyes. Not, she decided, because of the sad passing of their mother, but more at the sheer happiness she could see glowing in Tom’s eyes every time Jenny spoke or touched him. As Jenny linked his arm at the graveside, Anne could see he was in his element and loving every minute of the visit.

  As she’d lain in bed with Tom the night before he’d told her that, although he was disheartened not to see Thomas, it was more than understandable that Amanda felt the way she did, as he had behaved so badly. When Anne protested that he’d only been sixteen, Tom corrected her, claiming that it was no excuse and he should have faced the consequences like a man instead of running away like a pathetic coward.

  Sometimes Anne still couldn’t get used to this new husband of hers, as his whole way of thinking and behaving was totally different from what it had been when she first married him. Anne knew only too well how hard it was to change aspects of your character, because she’d tried herself over the years and often failed. So, as she snuggled into his back and drifted off to sleep, she felt extraordinarily proud of him and what he’d accomplished.

  Tom, however, lay awake for hours. In the past he’d always been a good sleeper and could usually clear his mind in seconds, then drift off to sleep deeply for the whole night. However, during the last few months he’d taken to lying awake, tortured by memories of his past behaviour, with his mind working overtime and his body tense and cringing at how he’d treated the women in his life, especially Ellie. She’d been so young and he should never have taken advantage of her naivety in the way he had; it was no wonder that her father had hated him on sight. Jack had watched his daughter throwing herself into the arms of a shallow, good-looking chancer without an ounce of decency in his soul. If I’d been in his place, Tom thought, and could see a man like me messing with my daughter, I’d have torn him to shreds. Eventually, when he had fallen asleep, his dreams were dark and harrowing, leaving him feeling exhausted when Anne woke him the next morning.

  The following night, after shopping in The Lanes, visiting The Pavilion, and a sumptuous Chinese meal, Anne and Tom bid their goodnights and went upstairs to bed. Once inside the bedroom Tom stripped off to his boxer shorts and watched Anne’s reflection in the mirror, while she undressed in the en-suite bathroom. He sighed with pleasure at the sight of her brushing her teeth as she stood in her white lace bra and panties and, although it was only two nights since they’d made love, he desperately wanted her.

  It had taken a while following his affair with Ellie before Anne would even allow him to touch her again, and during the first couple of attempts at love making she’d ended up in floods of tears. But he’d reassured her over and over again that it didn’t matter how long it took for her to come to terms with what had happened, he’d be patiently waiting. Tom had begged her to believe that all the other women had only been about sex and had nothing to do with the love and passion he felt for her, and gradually she’d come alive once more and regained her sexual appetite.

  Tom walked into the bathroom and stood behind her as she rinsed her toothbrush. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her neck, then nibbled at her ear lobe.

  ‘Tom,’ she whispered, ‘we can’t do it here in your sister’s bedroom.’

  Tom ground his urgency against the cheeks of her bottom. ‘Why not,’ he groaned. ‘They are probably doing it too – it’s Saturday night. We always make love on Saturday and I neeeeed you now.’

  Anne sighed in mock consternation, although inside she swelled with delight at his passion for her. ‘But what if the bed creaks?’ she teased as he pulled her gently into the bedroom.

  Tom sat on the end of the bed and opened his legs wide as she stood in front of him. He bounced up and down a few times, testing the mattress as she giggled quietly.

  He grinned mischievously, ‘Well, even if it does, which it doesn’t, I don’t care where or how, but I have to be inside you, Anne.’

  He ran his hands up to her panties and pulled them down to her ankles then unhooked her bra until she was naked in front of him. ‘Fabulous,’ he groaned and began to suck her nipples while roving his hands up and down her body. ‘We just need to be quieter than usual, my little tigress.’

  She giggled and bent forward with both her hands in his hair. His sucking action sent waves of longing through her body, which began to intensify to such a pitch that she grabbed handfuls of his hair and softly moaned his name. She knew her confidence when making love to Tom had grown alongside her wish to be more of an equal partner in their relationship, and she took a deep breath. This time she wasn’t going to wait for him to decide their position, she was going to make love to him. Throwing all caution aside she unlatched his mouth from her breast and pushed him flat on to his back and climbed above him with her knees astride his waist. Tom tried to manoeuvre her down on to him, but she bent forward and purred in his ear, ‘Not yet. You’ll just have to wait until I’m ready…,’

  Tom looked at her hair hanging down to her shoulders like a curtain framing her flushed face. He saw the raw passion blaze in her eyes and he gasped; she was more turned on than he’d ever seen before.

  ‘Bloody hell, Anne,’ he whispered, still trying to pull her down on to him. ‘Why the hell have you waited until we are in a strange bed to do this? If we’d been at home you could have howled and screamed until the cows came home!’

  Anne held steadfast above him, taunting him with her mouth. ‘Hmm, maybe that’s it,’ she breathed hard and took both his hands then lifted his arms swiftly above his head. ‘It’s exciting being in someone else’s bed and having to be quiet.’ Holding his wrists down on the bed she bent over and kissed him long and hard, circling her tongue around his.

  Tom felt desperate now and shuffled his buttocks, trying to ease the throbbing, as he was so erect it was beginning to feel uncomfortable. ‘Please, Anne,’ he groaned. ‘Sit on me now – I can’t wait any longer.’

  ‘Ssshh,’ she commanded in his ear. ‘Be quiet.’

  Anne felt in control now – she no longer felt like the timid woman underneath him agreeing with everything. She was filled with an urgent passion that she hardly knew existed before, and carried on taunting him. She loved the look of desperation in his eyes and smiled with pleasure at his lack of control. Feeling the desire in her body escalate to such a pitch that she too couldn’t control herself any longer, she suddenly thrust
down on to him and held her hand firmly over his mouth as he groaned loudly between her fingers. She rode and ground on top of him until finally her sweet release flooded through her and she felt his climactic cry stifled under her hand.

  Collapsed and spent, she slowly took her hand from his mouth and he whistled between his teeth. She reminded him of Sharon Stone in the film “Basic Instinct”, and he shook his head in disbelief. ‘Dear, God,’ he mused, ‘I’m married to a she-devil.’

  Giggling, Anne climbed from the bed, and crept into the bathroom as she didn’t want to make a mess on the pristine white sheet. While she sat on the toilet in awe at what she’d just done, for some strange reason it suddenly dawned upon her that she couldn’t remember when her last period was. She’d been so distracted over the last couple of months that she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought.

  *

  After a huge cooked brunch Anne asked Jenny for a lift into town to go to a chemist for some necessary items. The women nodded at each other and Jenny drove her to the nearest supermarket that held a pharmacy. As she left the store Anne pushed the small carrier bag deep into her handbag and climbed back into the car, making an excuse to Jenny that she’d been caught short. Jenny smiled and the women chatted on the drive back to the house about how much they’d all enjoyed the weekend and how it was such a shame that they had to leave in the afternoon. Anne agreed that the next time they would stay longer, and that one day they’d return the favour and how they must come to visit in Newcastle. Anne found Jenny very easy to talk to and recognised some of the characteristics and mannerisms that Tom often showed. She told Jenny how alike she thought they were.

  Arriving back to the house, Anne flew upstairs to their bathroom and carefully opened the bag. She knew she was being ridiculous and could just as well have waited until she’d returned home to do the pregnancy test, but she also knew the anticipation and anxiety would be unbearable on the long journey home. She pulled the kit from the bag, followed the instructions, and sat on the edge of the bed to await the allotted time – it was positive.