House of Christmas Secrets

by Lynda Stacey

  ‘I … I heard you on the phone, is all okay?’ she questioned, and nervously pulled at her pyjama top. She’d heard whispered conversations like this before. Each one had been in a hushed voice. Each one as secretive as the one before and each one had showed her a side to Rob that she didn’t like.

  ‘It’s just work. Go to bed, I’ll be up soon.’

  ‘Okay.’ He was lying to her. That was obvious. ‘Come on, Rob, how long will you be? It’s just … I start my new job tomorrow …’ She tried to play on his conscience. ‘… You have remembered that, Rob, haven’t you? I could do with an early night, and I hoped you might join me.’ She pushed for an answer knowing that the phone was still in his hand, hidden behind the door.

  ‘Kate, stop nagging and go to bed.’

  The kitchen door slammed shut in her face and Kate pouted. She wasn’t nagging and what’s more, she wasn’t stupid; she’d heard his words and knew that he was up to something, but once again, she didn’t know what.

  Sighing she went back upstairs, climbed into bed, and picked up her unfinished glass of wine. She took a sip and looked over at the impeccably positioned photo. It stood on her bedside table, silver framed, perfectly polished. The photo had been taken the year before, at their engagement party in September, a time when they’d both been happy. Rob was hugging her so close and looked so good. But then, Rob always looked good. Why wouldn’t he? He always seemed to have the perfect tan, an amazing body, figure-hugging shorts and a smile that could be seen for miles. Unlike her, who in comparison was far too scrawny, with long auburn hair and pale freckly skin that burnt far too easily.

  Everyone had said that opposites attract, but Kate still wasn’t sure. Of course, she’d thought so at first. Things had moved quickly, Rob had bombarded her with romance, love and affection and all at a time when she’d needed it the most. But recently, he’d changed. He’d become distant, cold and, dare she admit, just a little on the aggressive side. It was as though from the moment she’d agreed to him moving in with her, he’d become far too comfortable and seemed to do or say whatever he wanted, in whatever tone he liked. And the normal politeness of a new relationship had disappeared overnight.

  A million questions ran through her mind. Who had been on the phone? Was it a girlfriend? Had he met someone else? Did he regret meeting her, or was it that he’d simply stopped loving her? She wouldn’t have been suspicious if there had only ever been one call, but there hadn’t and now her mind was working overtime.

  Kate shook her head. She wouldn’t blame him if he’d found someone else. After all, what man in their right mind would want to love someone who looked like her? A single tear dropped down Kate’s face as she closed her eyes and tried to decide what to do. Did she go down, confront him, ask him the questions that were spiralling around her mind, or did she go to sleep, curl up in the duvet and once again pretend that she didn’t care?

  It was seven o’clock when her alarm clock burst into life. Its constant buzzing drove her insane, but she didn’t dare switch it off. She couldn’t sleep in; not today. But she was struggling to wake herself. She knuckle-rubbed her eyes and finally slapped the alarm clock into silence as she slid her leg over to the left-hand side of the bed, her toes searching for Rob.

  His side of the bed was cold. She should have known he wasn’t there due to the lack of snoring, but for a few seconds her hand inched across to where her fiancé should have been sleeping.

  The empty space in the bed encouraged her eyes to finally open. She peered at the duvet. It was perfectly straight, even the decorative cushion still lay where she had left it the night before and she slumped back against her pillow, knowing that once again he’d slept downstairs. Kate closed her eyes, punched the duvet and sighed, suddenly remembering the phone call, the secrets and lies of the night before.

  ‘This isn’t getting you to work, Kate Duggan.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Get up, you have a new job to go to.’ She threw back the duvet and launched herself out of bed. But as she did so, her stomach turned and the nervous nausea began.

  It would be the first full-time job she’d taken since the accident just over a year before. Thirteen months since her whole world had fallen apart. Everything had been such a mess, most of her family had both blamed and needed her in equal measure. But then she’d met Rob. It was just a few weeks after the accident, a time when she’d really needed to be loved. He’d worked, provided for her and, at that moment in time, she’d been happy to let him. She hadn’t thought about what he did for a living. How a personal trainer worked, or how often he’d end up spending days, if not weeks, working away from home. All she’d cared about was that someone actually loved her.

  Was it any wonder they’d grown apart, just as quickly as they’d got together?

  Flinging open the wardrobe door she scoured inside and without hesitation selected a black pencil skirt, new white blouse and high-heeled black patent leather shoes. Everything was easy to find. All the clothes were colour coded and set out in two distinct sections. There were tops and blouses on one rail and skirts, trousers and gym clothes on the other. Rob may have a problem sleeping with her, but that didn’t mean she’d let her appearance or standards slip for the rest of the world to see.

  She laid each item on the bed so she could check them carefully. There were to be no creases, no marks or loose seams. Appearance was everything, especially today. She just had to look perfect.

  She scanned the perfume bottles on her dressing table. All stood in a row, all were in size order. All perfectly lined up without a millimetre to spare. She carefully selected the bottle of Vivienne Westwood’s Boudoir and put it on the bed, beside her clothes. She liked everything to be there, just ready to put on. Satisfied with her choices, she padded through to the bathroom at the far side of the cottage.

  Intense, bright, early morning sunshine bounced off the glistening white tiles, hurting her eyes. She turned down the blind and waited until she’d stopped squinting, before allowing the bathroom to come into focus. There was a splatter of toothpaste, which had imprinted itself across Rob’s bathroom mirror. He’d left towels on the floor and a toilet that desperately needed attacking with bleach. These were all signs that told Kate that Rob was awake and had already been in the bathroom. She heard herself tut. They’d been together for just over a year and she’d repeatedly asked him to clean up after himself, but still it was always left like this. Even though he knew she hated it. Kate opened the cupboard, pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, and picked up the bleach.

  Once she was satisfied that the bathroom was once again perfect, she began to take in her reflection in the mirror.

  ‘I doubt I’d want to sleep with you either,’ she mouthed as she splashed cold water onto her pale, freckled, scarred face. Her finger drew a line along the long red puckered scar that had been engraved into her jawline, a constant reminder of the accident and a day that had tormented her dreams every night since.

  After all, it was a day she’d never been allowed to forget. The reminder was there every time she looked at herself, but according to her mother, she had been the lucky one: the one who’d walked away. A scar was nothing compared with what had happened to her twin sister, Eve, who’d been paralysed and hadn’t walked since, or her poor brother, James, who’d been killed outright, and no matter how many times she’d tried to tell herself that it hadn’t been her fault, the guilt still remained.

  After taking a shower, she set to work to correct the disturbing image that stared back from the steamed-up mirror, beginning with the brushing of her long dyed auburn hair. It reminded her of a huge tangled bird’s nest and the brush pulled as she dragged it repeatedly through the strands of hair, until they fell evenly down her back. She then turned her attention to her face and began applying the foundation that for the past year she trusted to hide her scar. Three thin coats, followed by a light dusting of face powder.

  Once satisfied, she applied a smudge of eyeliner and a touch of clear lip gloss. ‘Not t
oo much, you don’t want to look like a hussy, now do you?’ she whispered, before smiling back at her reflection and, after dropping one damp towel into the wash basket and then wrapping a dry one around her body, she walked back across the landing and into her bedroom.

  ‘Morning.’ She heard Rob’s deep husky voice before she saw him. It came from behind the open wardrobe door and she tried to determine what kind of mood he was in. She thought he sounded cheerful, not moody at all. Yet without seeing his face, she really couldn’t tell.

  ‘So, what’s with sleeping downstairs, again?’ she immediately demanded, and then cursed inwardly for jumping in so quickly. Her job in the police force had taught her that a person always looked down if they lied and she wished she’d waited until the wardrobe door had been closed before she’d asked. At least then she’d have been able to see if there had been any sign of lies or deceit in his eyes.

  ‘Sorry, babes, fell asleep. You know, football on telly.’ Rob smirked. The pine door of the wardrobe closed with a bang and he stood before her. He had a wide disarming smile that lit up his handsome face. His customary tracksuit bottoms hung loosely from his hips, allowing Kate full view of his perfect abs, and the dolphin tattoos that wrapped themselves around his equally huge and perfect biceps. In fact, every muscle on his body was toned to equal symmetry. Life had dealt him the Adonis card and his body really was his temple, and it was a tool he tended to use to his advantage, at every given opportunity.

  ‘Stop admiring yourself, Rob. It’s quite pathetic for a twenty-something has-been.’ She couldn’t help herself. He’d hurt her, yet again, and this time she wouldn’t back down.

  He looked himself up and down in the mirror. ‘Got to look my best, darling. No point being a personal trainer if the clients don’t look up to me, now is there? Besides, one of us has to earn a proper wage, don’t we?’

  She resented his comments. ‘It’s not like I’ve never worked Rob, is it? I’d always worked before the accident.’

  ‘Darling, you were just a PCSO.’

  ‘Seriously, are you going to use that one? I might have been just a PCSO here in Yorkshire, Rob, but that was my choice. I had been a constable in the Metropolitan Police.’

  ‘So, why swap from being a real copper to being a pretend special one?’ He laughed. ‘A special bobby, that’s what you were, special.’

  ‘Don’t be an ass, Rob. There were no full-time posts to transfer to when I came back to Yorkshire. I came back to look after my grandmother, in case you’ve forgotten. I took what I could get.’ She glared in his direction. He stood before the mirror, flexing his muscles, while admiring his physique.

  ‘I know, baby. Why don’t you arrest me for being an ass?’ Again he turned and smirked. ‘Oh, that’s right, you were one of those coppers who couldn’t arrest people, isn’t that right?’

  ‘Sod off, Rob. You have no idea what my job involved. No idea at all, so keep your opinions to yourself.’ It was true, he didn’t have any idea what she’d done. She’d never spoken of the times when she’d saved lives, or of when her own had been put in danger. She watched as he threw dirty clothes onto the floor, replacing them with clean ones out of the wardrobe.

  ‘Rob, pick them up. The dirty basket is in the bathroom, and stop acting like I’m your mother, ’cos I’m not. I’m going to work and it’s about time you learned to tidy up after yourself.’

  ‘And what did you say your new job involved, baby?’ He paused. ‘Ah, that’s right. You’re off to play Inspector Clouseau. Really, Kate? What does your father think?’ He picked up his shorts and threw them on the bed.

  ‘Don’t make fun, Rob. I’ll be training to be a private investigator and, as for my father, don’t you dare try to second guess what his opinion might be.’ Kate was furious. Ever since she’d told him about her new chosen career, he’d made fun, belittled her decision and had constantly thrown at her how much her father had wanted her to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer, just like James had been. She closed her eyes as the memory of her brother once again passed through her mind.

  Would the pain ever diminish?

  Kate opened her eyes, pulled the towel tightly around her, and looked around the room, down the passage and toward the stairs. She took in a deep breath, and silently thanked her grandmother for leaving the cottage to her, but then wondered if the gift had in fact been a curse. Was Rob only here for the free accommodation? Was that the reason he stayed? Or did he actually love her? There had been times when she’d thought he had, but today was not one of those days. She gritted her teeth and fixed his look with a glare. The ‘football on telly’ explanation wasn’t washing with her. She’d heard the phone call and deep down she knew that there was something going on that he wasn’t telling her.

  Rob stepped towards her, his lips forming an exaggerated pout – he had the look of a scolded schoolboy – and reached out to snare her with his strong muscular arms, pulling her tightly into his bare chest.

  ‘Let go of me, Rob. I’m trying to get ready.’ Kate struggled against his all too familiar hold. ‘I mean it. Let go.’

  ‘Am I forgiven?’ His lips momentarily brushed hers, as his hands travelled up and down the parts of her naked body that he could reach. The towel she’d been wrapped in dropped unceremoniously to the floor and landed in a heap at her feet, giving his hands the freedom to roam unhindered.

  ‘Why, why would I forgive you, Rob?’ Her serious expression crept into a smile. ‘You’re an asshole.’ She began to laugh. After all, it was hard to stay cross whilst naked, especially with Rob.

  ‘Am I, baby, am I forgiven?’ He repeated the words, over and over, as he teased her mouth with the brushing of his. ‘Please?’

  Kate caught the strong scent of his aftershave – an earthy, musky, manly smell. His lips left hers momentarily and began to sear a path, kissing every part of her neck and chest, making her moan with desire. His lips once again captured hers; he was more demanding this time and his tongue sent shivers racing through her body as his fingers gently traced the curve of her spine. She closed her eyes as a sudden and overwhelming sensation took over her. It was a mixture of love and lust that engulfed her and she found it harder and harder to stay annoyed.

  She felt his hands squeeze her gently, making her flick open her eyes and look deep into his. Melting into his arms, she still couldn’t believe that someone like Rob loved her and the feelings she had right now were exactly the same as those she had experienced the first day she’d set eyes on him.

  ‘Am I forgiven, baby?’ His words were little more than a whisper, as Kate reluctantly nodded her forgiveness and lifted her lips back towards his.

  But just as quickly as he’d pulled her to him, he released his grasp, a cheeky grin ripped across his face, and his hand grabbed his T-shirt from where it lay.

  ‘Too late, kiddo, you should’ve forgiven me sooner.’

  Kate’s naked body landed on the bed, as Rob smirked, flashed a wink and strode out of the room.

  The heavy footsteps on the stairs, the opening and closing of the fridge, followed by the slamming of the back door, all told Kate that he’d left for the day and he wasn’t coming back.

  ‘Bastard,’ Kate shouted and in a gesture of frustration she scooped up one of her heels and hurled it towards the bedroom door. As the shoe rebounded, everything went into slow motion. She could see what was going to happen, but was powerless to prevent it. Before her eyes the black patent leather shoe caught the tall stemmed glass on the bedside unit and the remnants of the previous night’s red wine splattered across a section of the cream shag pile carpet.

  ‘Damn you,’ she screamed. She grabbed at the fallen bath towel and dropped to her knees. She was still naked, but frantically used the towel to dab at the carpet, attempting in vain to get the stain to lift, as tears ran down her face.

  The carpet would have to be professionally cleaned or replaced. She wouldn’t allow anything to stay spoiled, not in this cottage.

  CHAPTE
R TWO

  Kate was running late. She climbed into her old yellow Volkswagen Beetle. It was rusty and creaked, but the interior was spotless and Kate was loath to exchange it, even though, as with everything else, Rob made fun of it every chance he got. But to her, it was perfect. She loved it, and just like River Cottage, it had belonged to her grandmother.

  There had been a time, after the accident, when she’d wondered if she’d ever drive again. She had fond memories of driving around North Yorkshire with her grandmother, and it was only the memory of that which had actually got her back in a car, driving. At first, she’d forced herself to take short journeys around the moors. She’d gone looking for and picking heather, even though she didn’t need or want any. And on days when the sun had shone, she’d spent hours looking for the perfect picnic spot, and then sitting quietly to watch wildlife, all the time daring herself to get back in the car and to drive back home. Even now, on occasions, she’d begin sweating or feel nauseous and would have to keep stopping the car to sip water, or to wipe her hot, clammy hands on a small towel that she now kept in the door pocket for such an occasion.

  Kate took note of the time and reversed out of the drive. She had just twenty minutes to get to Bedale. A quick calculation meant that she only just had enough time to get to work for her nine a.m. start. She cursed inwardly while repeatedly and anxiously keeping one eye on her watch, the other eye on the road. She drove carefully. She hated to be late and normally prided herself on her timekeeping, but the carpet had been stained and she’d had to at least try her best to repair the damage.

  The road between Caldwick and Bedale was unbelievably clear, which was quite unusual for a Monday morning and the car gained momentum, snaking around the long isolated roads and past the low stone walls. It was April and the fresh spring morning air made the drive pleasant, and Kate smiled as she saw sheep, scattered through the fields, all with newborn lambs by their side. Kate found herself slowing the car down to a crawl while she watched a beautiful white swan cautiously herding its six young cygnets away from the road and into the safety of a nearby pond. The swan watched vigilantly as one after another of her babies jumped in with a splash, before making their way to the safety of her side. It reminded Kate of days before the accident, days when she, James and her sister Eve would run side by side, just as the cygnets did. Days when their mother had cared enough to shepherd them to safety. Days when they’d been a family group and the happier days she’d had before the isolation she felt following the accident. It had been as though she’d become invisible, as everyone had rushed to take care of her mother, father, and Eve.