by Dani Atkins
‘It was gratitude, Alex. And yes, maybe that did quickly grow into a genuine friendship, but I honestly think these feelings you’re experiencing have a far more logical explanation.’
Alex raised his head slowly.
‘Molly’s a lovely girl. And you might not be able to remember this, but she is also very much the type of girl you always used to be attracted to. Little and curvy. It was practically your girlfriend blueprint when you were younger. Lisa was the anomaly; she was something different.’ There was genuine love for his late sister-in-law in Todd’s eyes as he reached for Alex’s hand once again. ‘In every single way, she was different.’ He sighed.
‘I know you don’t want to hear this. I know you’re going to say it’s too soon or that… hell, I don’t know… that it will never happen, not ever. But if you ask me, I think you’re attracted to Molly, sexually attracted, and because you can’t bear the thought of betraying Lisa’s memory, you’ve somehow convinced yourself that Lisa is still alive within Molly. That Molly is nothing more than a vehicle to bring Lisa back to you.’
Todd reached for his beer bottle and drained the remains in a single swallow. ‘And frankly that’s a pretty shit deal for both Molly and Lisa.’
He began counting points off on his fingers, one at a time. ‘Molly isn’t Lisa; the heart is simply a pump that moves blood around the body; it has no emotions outside the realms of a Hallmark card; the recipients of Lisa’s organs weren’t brought into your life for some big hidden purpose; it was all just chance.’
He’d run out of fingers, but not of things to say. ‘When Lisa said her love wouldn’t die, she was right, it won’t. But it didn’t leapfrog into a host body. It will live on forever, but in your heart, not Molly’s. You have to stop this now, mate, before you hurt someone. Before you do something stupid.’
The kiss was there again, front and centre stage in Alex’s head.
‘I think I might have already done that.’
30
Molly
I always liked to reserve the first day of the school holidays for doing absolutely nothing. But not today. Today, even though I’d completed my Christmas shopping several weeks earlier, I was heading into the centre of town, in the middle of a snowstorm, in order to make one more purchase – which wasn’t even mine.
The odds of the white Christmas the weather forecasters had been predicting had been slashed dramatically overnight. When I’d opened my bedroom curtains in the morning, it was to find my unremarkable street transformed into a winter wonderland. The familiar grey colour palette was gone as road and pavements were hidden beneath the previous night’s snowfall. Under their deep crust of snow, even the wheelie bins now looked magical.
The radio was warning drivers to stay off the roads, and I didn’t need telling twice. I wrapped up cosily in boots, jeans and a chunky red jumper, tucked my hair up in a bobble hat, and wound a scarf so many times around my neck it was quite hard to turn my head.
He’d phoned me the day before, catching me mid-nap, and I’d been too slow and sleepy to think of an excuse to say no. Would I have given him one if I’d been more awake, I wondered?
‘Hello,’ I’d mumbled, swiping to answer the call without reading the screen first.
‘Molly?’ The caller seemed confused, and I could hardly blame them. I sounded like I had a mouth stuffed full of marshmallows.
‘Uh huh,’ I replied inarticulately.
‘Did I wake you?’ The voice was hesitant.
‘Who is this?’ I asked, wriggling to free myself from a fleecy throw I’d wrapped around my legs.
‘It’s Mac,’ said the voice in my ear. ‘I’m sorry, have I called at a bad time?’
It was dark beyond my lounge window, but at this time of year it was dark by the middle of the afternoon. I had no idea if I’d been asleep for hours or just minutes.
‘I don’t know. Maybe. What time is it?’
His soft laughter rumbled down the phone line. ‘It’s a little after eight. Were you in bed?’ And then before I had a chance to reply, he added rapidly, ‘Are you feeling okay?’
‘I’m fine. I was just resting my eyes.’ It was the euphemism my dad would use every time he was caught asleep in front of the TV, and the memory made my own eyes prickle uncomfortably. I missed him even more at this time of year.
‘I was wondering if you were free tomorrow. I know it’s terribly short notice, but I could do with a woman’s input. I’ll throw in lunch and mulled wine if you say yes,’ he added enticingly.
‘What exactly is it that we’re going to be doing?’
‘Shopping. For Andi’s baby. I could really use your help.’
He’d had me at ‘mulled wine’ then almost lost me again at ‘Andi’, but what kind of friend would I have been to refuse his request?
The holiday season has always been my favourite time of year, and I’m hokey enough to love the way it makes total strangers forget to dislike each other and even go out of their way to share seasons’ greetings. I’d exchanged four ‘Happy Christmasses’ with fellow passengers before I was halfway to town. The bus was crowded and steamy, but if you ignored the smell of damp bodies, it was actually rather nice. I’d caught it by the skin of my teeth for my phone had rung just as I was about to leave the house.
‘Kyra!’ I exclaimed, glancing automatically at my watch. ‘What are you doing calling me? Shouldn’t you be at 36,000 feet right now, knocking back margaritas with your breakfast?’ She laughed ruefully. ‘Please don’t say you missed your flight,’ I continued. Kyra had practically been counting down the hours for her trip back to Australia for the holidays and would be devastated not to go.
‘No. My plane is right here at the airport, and so, unfortunately, am I. Have you looked out the window yet this morning, Mol? It’s like the bloody Arctic out there.’
Coming from an Australian state where winter necessitated nothing more than a slightly thicker jumper, Kyra still had issues with our British winters.
‘Actually, I’m just about to head out in it, right now.’
‘What?’ she exclaimed, her voice rising above those of the frustrated travellers chattering around her. ‘You’ve ruined my mental image. I thought you’d be curled up on the settee, watching Love Actually in your PJs while scoffing a box of Marks & Spencer mince pies.’
To be fair, that had been exactly what I’d planned to do before Mac’s call. ‘Later,’ I promised. ‘This morning I’m meeting someone in town for some last-minute shopping.’
‘You’re shopping without me? You traitor,’ she teased, unable to keep the amusement from her voice. Her next comment got lost behind the boom of a tannoy announcement.
‘Sorry. What did you say?’
‘I asked who you were shopping with.’
I swallowed, and prayed for another flight announcement, but sadly the line was suddenly as clear as a bell.
‘It’s Alex, isn’t it?’ Kyra guessed incorrectly. I didn’t need to see her face to imagine her smooth brow creased in disapproval, for it was right there in her voice. Stupidly I felt myself flushing, because Kyra still knew nothing about what had happened between Alex and me and how it had confirmed how wrong it would be to allow our friendship to develop into anything else. The version of events Kyra been given had been carefully edited and sanitized as though what occurred that night was a guilty secret, which in a way I suppose it was.
‘No. It’s not Alex. I’m helping Mac, actually.’
‘That’s just as bad.’
‘How do you work that out?’ I asked, aware that I was now fidgeting uncomfortably as though on a witness stand. ‘Mac is a friend, nothing more.’
Kyra’s response was a dismissive snort. ‘A friend who I suspect would like to be a whole lot more.’
‘No. You’re one hundred per cent wrong,’ I declared emphatically, as almost in wonder I lifted my fingers to my cheeks. They were red hot. The flush had turned into a fiery blush.
‘I truly hope I am, because
I’m worried that these friendships of yours are, at best, a little odd, and at worst… they’re kind of incestuous.’ It was a word she must have known would plant an ugly seed because she immediately lightened her tone. ‘Can’t you just find a regular weirdo on a dating site, like the rest of us do?’
‘I’ll add it to my list of New Year’s resolutions,’ I promised, thankful we were now back to our usual banter. Kyra’s concern came from a place of love, I knew that. But she didn’t know – or understand – the connection I felt to both Mac and Alex. And yes, Mac was undeniably attractive, and in another time and place… well, things might have been different. But I was too sensible to indulge in pointless ‘what ifs’. Because even if – hypothetically – I should find myself attracted to… someone, I came with the kind of baggage that no one in their right mind would choose to take on. I was a bad bet for a long-term future with anyone and no amount of argument was going to change that.
Fortunately another announcement in the background cut short our conversation.
‘Finally,’ Kyra declared. ‘I’ve gotta go, Mols. We’re boarding. Take care of yourself and remember that old Aussie saying, “mates don’t date”.’
‘You just made that up,’ I said on a laugh. ‘Fly safe and I’ll see you soon.’
*
‘I wasn’t sure you’d still be able to make it,’ Mac said, stepping out from beneath the canopy of the department store where we’d agreed to meet. He was in a dark pea coat that made his shoulders look broader than ever. Despite the awning, his hair and coat were peppered with snowflakes.
‘You can’t keep a good woman away from a shopping trip,’ I said lightly, a little thrown when his hand reached out to cup my elbow. He kept hold of me as he steered us through the throng of oncoming shoppers, many of them wielding their carrier bags like weapons. The revolving doors separated us, and once inside, Mac made no move to take my arm again.
‘So, where do you want to start?’ I asked, already tugging at the scarf around my neck. The store felt as hot as a sauna, and I was in danger of swooning like a Victorian damsel if I didn’t shed some layers fast. An image of the pair of us on the front cover of a trashy novel popped into my head, with Mac scooping me up in his arms and sweeping me up a winding staircase. Damn Kyra and her stupid theories.
‘Sorry,’ I said, my mind all over the place and my cheeks pink, ‘what did you say?’
‘I was just saying thank you in advance for giving up your day to help me shop.’ He flashed me a boyish grin.
Would this take the whole day, I wondered? Surely he only had to pick out one little gift? ‘We should probably head to the baby department, on the fifth floor,’ I said.
Another grin, this one decidedly sheepish. ‘That’d be a good place to start…’ He left the rest of the sentence dangling, waiting for me to reach up and clasp hold of it.
‘Mac, is there something you haven’t mentioned yet?’
He gave a smiling wince, as though I’d just trodden on his toe. ‘Such a clichéd guy thing, isn’t it, waiting until the last moment to buy anything. There, er… might be a couple of other Christmas gifts I still need to get.’
I summoned up my best teacherly ‘spill-the-beans’ face. Apparently it worked just as well on thirty-six-year-old architects as it did with six-year-olds. He cracked like a nut.
‘Okay. Maybe more than just a couple of gifts.’ He looked so contrite, it was almost comical. ‘I’d like to get presents for the Stevens family, and for Barbara and Jamie too.’ This was way more than just popping into the baby department and picking up a couple of cute little outfits, and yet even though he’d misled me, I couldn’t think of a single way I’d rather spend my day.
I kept him in suspense for a few moments longer, just to prove I wasn’t a total pushover, and then got my own back. ‘You know that scene in Pretty Woman when Richard Gere gives Julia Roberts his credit card…’
If Mac imagined I was genetically better equipped to know what to buy for a baby, he was in for a shock. I stepped out of the lift and felt like I’d landed in another country. To our left were scores of prams, buggies and car seats, and to our right was a maze of cots, cribs and other equipment I couldn’t even identify. Directly in front of us was the clothing section, with outfits ranging in size from ‘how could any human be that small’ to ‘I bet I could almost fit into that’.
I gave a helpless shrug. ‘I have no idea where we should even begin.’
To be fair, Mac looked slightly less nonplussed than me. ‘Andi mentioned something about having a registry here?’
I glanced up at him with surprise. ‘You do know that means you could have chosen whatever you wanted online? You didn’t have to come and pick it out in person.’
‘I know.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘But I like seeing things,’ he said simply.
The penny dropped with a clang so loud I was surprised nearby shoppers couldn’t hear it. Mac was embracing the gift he’d been given. Just as I did whenever I chose to run rather walk up a flight of stairs or swim a further ten lengths of the pool. I did it because nothing stopped me now. I did it because I could.
Understanding and liking him even more than before, I linked my arm through his and pointed us towards the customer services desk. ‘Come on then, let’s get shopping.’
Once I’d got past how odd it was to be doing this, I actually had fun shopping for Andi’s baby. It only felt uncomfortable when I paused to wonder again about Mac’s connection to the infant.
‘Can I help you?’ asked an immaculately dressed woman in black as Mac and I wandered around the area where the cots were displayed. I had a printout of Andi’s registry in my hand, but I was beginning to suspect Mac wanted to buy something more substantial than anything on the list.
‘I see you’re both looking at the cribs. Many couples like to go for the bedside ones if they’re thinking about sleeping together.’
‘Oh, we’re not sleeping together,’ I blurted out unthinkingly, waving my hand in Mac’s direction. I’m not sure if it was the expression on the assistant’s face or Mac’s muffled laughter that immediately highlighted my gaffe. ‘I mean, we’re not sleeping together with the baby – or any other way, come to that.’ I shook my head as I clumsily tried to extricate myself from the hole I’d just dug. The assistant had the air of a woman who was going to enjoy retelling this story a great many times.
Behind me, Mac was still chuckling. I threw him a look but ruined the effect when my own lips began to quiver. I drew in a deep breath and turned back to the assistant.
‘We’re buying the crib for a friend of ours,’ I explained firmly.
‘Ah, I see. Well, we have some lovely traditional ones over here,’ she said, gesturing towards another section.
‘We’re buying a crib?’ Mac whispered into my ear as we dutifully followed the assistant.
‘Looks like it,’ I whispered back.
The one we picked was gorgeous, and somewhere along the way I totally forgot I was choosing it for a small human I’d probably never meet. For just a moment I allowed myself to imagine I was picking out furniture with the man I loved for our own nursery, a room there was a very good chance I’d never have need of. Having a baby wasn’t impossible following a heart transplant, but after seeing how losing Lisa had affected Connor, how could I ever risk doing that to a child of my own?
‘This is the one I’d get,’ I said decisively, caressing the hand-carved wood.
Mac was standing on the opposite side of the crib. Our eyes met over it, and just for a moment… I shook my head, reality hitting me like a douse of cold water.
‘We’ll take this one,’ he said unexpectedly.
Only then did I think to examine the swinging price tag. ‘Have you seen how much it costs?’ I hissed as we followed a clearly delighted assistant to the till.
There was an odd look in his eyes as he dismissed my concerns. Mac was about to part with a considerable sum of money and I couldn’t work out whether it was to
please me or to please Andi. Or which of those two answers bothered me the most.
*
Two hours later, our shopping was almost complete. I’d picked out two gorgeous scarves: pale blue cashmere for Dee, and patterned silk for Barbara, and a doll with a cry like an air-raid siren for Maisie.
‘Are you sure?’ Mac queried, after I demonstrated its banshee howl.
‘I have insider knowledge,’ I said, patting my nose wisely. ‘Half the girls in my class have it on their Christmas list.’
Mac shrugged good-humouredly. ‘Clearly I’ve got a lot to learn about children. Today’s lesson is that a great many of their toys should come with ear plugs.’
I smiled, taking the glossy carrier bag from the shop assistant. ‘Do you see yourself having any?’ I asked, stepping straight over the boundary from polite conversation to inappropriate.
Mac came to an unexpected stop in the middle of the toy-department floor. It was hardly an appropriate location for such a question, with remote-control helicopters flying above our heads and shoppers jostling busily around us.
‘I take it you mean kids rather than ear plugs?’
He was more like me than I’d realised. In awkward moments I always reached for humour, and it seemed as though Mac did the same. But surprisingly he chose to answer me honestly.
‘Yes. I hope one day I’ll have a family. It had always been on the cards, until…’ His hand reached up and unconsciously brushed the corner of his eye in a gesture that touched my heart. ‘When I lost my sight, everything changed. It closed doors that I’d taken for granted would always be open to me.’
His story was also mine, and I suddenly felt much closer to him. It also made me remember what Andi had said about his ex-girlfriend. Carrie. My head was preoccupied with these thoughts when a football suddenly came flying straight at me, threatening to dislodge them. With lightning-fast reflexes, Mac caught the ball a split second before it made contact with my face.
‘I’m so sorry, I told him not to touch them,’ said a harried woman holding the arm of a surly-looking little boy. Amidst her profuse apologies, the moment with Mac was lost, and by the time the pair had disappeared back into the crowd, there was no picking up the dropped threads of our conversation.