Single All the Way: An unputdownable and uplifting Christmas romance

by Karen King

  ‘But you think I shouldn’t bother about things like that at my age and should put up with it?’ Sally demanded.

  ‘No, of course not,’ Meg floundered.

  Sally leant forward, her hands clasped together, elbows on the table. ‘I assure you, Meg, that I haven’t made this decision lightly. I’ve really thought about it. That’s why I decided to come to this cottage. It has such happy memories for me.’

  Please don’t let Mum tell me that she came here with another boyfriend, someone she was really happy with and wished she’d married instead of Dad, Meg thought desperately.

  Sally’s voice broke through her thoughts. ‘The truth is that your dad and I came here for our honeymoon. We were so happy here. So in love.’

  ‘Oh, Mum…’

  ‘I came here to remind myself how much we had loved each other, to ask myself if I was doing the right thing, if I could put up with our marriage as it is now.’ Sally gazed at her, and Meg saw the pain in her eyes. ‘The problem is the more I remember the love we had, how we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, wanted to be together as much as we could, relished each other’s company, the more I realise that I can’t settle for the empty marriage we have now.’

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ Meg got up and put her arms around her mother. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She didn’t know what else to say. It was evident that her mum was really upset about how things were with her dad, although personally, Meg still didn’t think it was major enough to throw away a long marriage. Not like the situation with her and Oliver.

  8

  Sally

  Meg had some promotion work to do for a client, so Sally left her working on her laptop at the kitchen table and went for a walk back down the hill to the harbour. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of it, as if her soul was soaking up the happy memories, willing them back. Memories of her and Ted freshly married, deeply in love. They’d been mad about each other then, happy to spend the days hand in hand, wandering around the small Cornish village or on the beach. They’d been blessed with glorious weather – it was June – as if the sun was shining down on their marriage. How she’d loved Ted, and he her. They would sit out in the little back garden, talking about their plans for the future, the family they would eventually have, the things they would do. So young and in love. Sally had returned to teaching as soon as Meg had started school, and they’d then been able to buy their own house, have a caravan in Devon, the occasional seaside holiday. Life had been busy, but she and Ted had jogged along comfortably, sharing the load. Sally wasn’t sure when she’d started to feel restless, that something was missing. It wasn’t a sudden feeling, but one that had grown over the years.

  She pulled her hood up against the wind and looked out at the sea. They had loved each other so much once; where had it gone? They didn’t even make love any more, not since Ted had started having difficulty performing a few years ago. She’d tried talking about it, telling him it was common with older men, but Ted had shut down, refusing to discuss it, and rebuffed her attempts to instigate making love, so that was it: sex life over because Ted said so. Even a kiss and cuddle were off the agenda because Ted seemed scared she’d want to go further. It’s a wonder he doesn’t buy me a vibrator and tell me to do that myself, like he tells me to do everything else myself, she thought crossly. That was Ted’s answer to everything she wanted to do and he didn’t: ‘You do it. I never stop you from doing anything.’ But he did, because she was married to him, and if the person you were married to didn’t want to do something, then that rubbed off on you too. You either didn’t do it or went ahead and did it but felt guilty, like you should be with them. Especially when they sulked as much as Ted did.

  She remembered when she first met Ted at the local disco; she had just finished school and Ted was at college. She’d been attracted to him right away. With his longish dark hair and motorbike, he’d seemed so grown up compared to the other lads, and so certain of his future. They’d dated for a while then broke up when she was at teacher training college and Ted at work in his first job, neither of them wanting to be tied down. Then Ted had contacted her again, said he’d missed her, and she had missed him too. They’d got back together, fallen madly in love and got engaged. When she’d said her marriage vows, she had meant them, really believed that she and Ted would be together forever. She was sure that Ted believed it too.

  People change; you were so young and now you’re different people, she reminded herself. Breaking up the family was the last thing she had wanted to do. She could see that Meg was upset about it, and she knew that Dan would have something to say when he found – after seeing Meg’s reaction she hadn’t been able to face telling Dan yet. It was bad timing so close to Christmas, but she didn’t feel like she could take any more. Surely she was entitled to be happy?

  The question was, was she unhappy enough to end their marriage for good?

  9

  Meg

  Helen phoned Meg again later that morning.

  ‘I had to phone and check on you, Meg. You sounded so upset. Are you okay? Any news from Oliver?’

  ‘Not a peep. He’s probably glad to have his freedom.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Meg. He adores you. He looked really upset on Sunday night.’

  ‘Didn’t stop him going out for a drink, did it?’ And not upset enough to phone me.

  ‘I’m so shocked. I thought you two were forever. I was expecting you to announce that you were pregnant any day.’

  That stung. ‘No chance of that. Oliver doesn’t want children. Not ever,’ she retorted, trying hard to keep the tremble out of her voice. ‘That’s why we’ve split up.’

  ‘Wow! That’s heavy. I’m so sorry, Meg.’ There was a pause then Helen continued reassuringly, ‘He’s probably just having a wobble. I’m sure he’ll come round. Miles was a bit shocked when we found out we were having Kyle, but as soon as Kyle was born he fell in love with him. He’s a great dad now and we’re even planning on having another baby soon.’

  ‘Oliver won’t come round. He’s adamant that he never wants kids.’

  ‘Take no notice of that,’ Helen pooh-poohed. ‘A lot of men are scared of being fathers, worried about the expense and all that. Just go ahead and have a baby if you want one. Just “forget” to take the pill. I never told you because I thought you might disapprove but… well, that’s what I did. And you know how much Miles adores Kyle.’

  Meg was astonished to discover that Helen had tricked her partner into being a father. But was that really so wrong? Miles was a fantastic dad and it was clear he adored his son just like she was sure Oliver would love their child if they had one. She shook her head; she couldn’t do that. If she and Oliver had a child, she wanted her pregnancy to be a happy event, for Oliver to be as delighted as she would be, for their child to be loved and longed for. It was a deceitful thing to do – there was no way she’d be taking Helen’s advice. If Oliver didn’t want a child with her, she wasn’t going to force one on him.

  ‘He does mean it. He’s made that perfectly clear. Now I have to decide if I love him enough to give up my desire for a family. So I’ve come away for a bit to think things over.’

  ‘It’s such a shame, Meg. At Christmastime too. Maybe Oliver will come round to the idea and decide that he does want a family after all.’

  How she wished that were true, but Oliver had seemed very sure of his feelings. And she really didn’t want to talk about it; it was too upsetting. ‘I doubt it. Sorry, Helen, but I’ve got to go now. I’ll catch up with you later in the week.’

  ‘Okay, babe. Take care. I hope it all works out.’

  Meg went down into the kitchen and popped on the kettle, then opened the loaf her mum had just bought and made herself some toast. She ate it, standing at the kitchen window, looking outside, trying to imagine her parents as newlyweds, staying here. That revelation had surprised her. Maybe I’m being a bit harsh on Mum, she thought as she nibbled her toast. She must still love Dad to come down here, where they spe
nt their honeymoon. Maybe Mum wanted Dad to come after her, show that he cared? Did Dad even remember that Goolan Bay was the place he and Mum had spent their honeymoon? Knowing him, he’d probably forgotten. She’d ring him again in a bit, remind him of that and let him know that Mum had booked Smuggler’s Haunt, the same cottage they had stayed in, so she must care about him. Maybe that would persuade him to come down. With a bit of luck, her parents would be together again for Christmas, and then she could concentrate on her own break-up.

  She frowned as a ball whizzed over the wooden fence and landed in one of the plant pots lining the garden, then a young blond-haired boy peered over the fence. There must be a family staying next door – or living there; probably not all the houses are rented out, she thought. She stuffed the last piece of toast in her mouth, slipped on her shoes and went outside.

  ‘Can I have my ball back, please?’ the boy asked as soon as he spotted her.

  ‘Sure.’

  As she crossed the garden to get it, she heard a man’s deep voice say, ‘I’ve told you to watch where you’re kicking that ball, Sam.’

  The boy turned to face the direction of the voice. ‘What else am I supposed to do? You’ve been working on your laptop all morning. I’m bored.’

  Meg scooped up the ball and walked over to the fence, where a fair-haired man dressed in tracksuit bottoms was now standing next to the boy. ‘Thank you, I’ll take that. Sorry that Sam has been a bother to you.’ He grabbed the ball and directed a stern look at his son.

  ‘That’s not fair. Now I’ll have nothing to play with. You’ve already taken my iPad off me. I hate it here. I wish I could spend Christmas with Mum.’

  She didn’t catch the man’s reply as they both disappeared into the house.

  As she went back inside, the front door opened: her mum was back.

  ‘It’s a bit windy out there,’ Mum said, hanging up her coat.

  Meg looked at her in her jeans, jumper and trainers and thought how young she looked – and acted – compared to her dad. Perhaps it was no wonder she felt stifled in their marriage. She had been a bit harsh on her, she thought, with a pang of guilt.

  ‘I know. Are you okay?’ she asked.

  ‘I will be,’ Mum said with a determined smile. ‘And so will you. We’re made of strong stuff.’ She slipped off her trainers.

  ‘Sorry if I sounded a bit… unsympathetic,’ Meg told her. ‘But I still think you should talk to Dad, get him to understand what’s he’s doing – or not doing – that’s upsetting you. Give him a chance to put it right.’

  Sally sighed. ‘I’ve tried, Meg. And if your dad cared, he would be phoning and asking me, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘I’m sure he will soon.’ She was still hoping that once her dad had mulled over their call, he would phone. If he didn’t soon, she’d be phoning him again.

  Sally narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m guessing you tried to persuade him to when you called him earlier?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ confessed Meg. ‘I told you he didn’t realise you’d left him – he’s expecting you back.’

  Sally sighed. ‘Well, if he does ring, I’ll listen to what he has to say, but you have to let me handle this my way, Meg. I know we’re your parents but this is our marriage, our business.’ She reached out and touched Meg’s hand. ‘Now I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Oliver?’

  ‘No. He’s probably glad I’ve gone; now he’s let off the hook and doesn’t have to pretend any longer.’ She blinked the tears from her eyes. She couldn’t believe that Oliver cared so little about her. She had thought they were rock-solid. How wrong she was.

  ‘Right, well, we’re not going to sit here and be miserable. Let’s have something to eat and take a walk around the village. I’m dying to show it to you, and to see how much it’s changed.’

  ‘I’d love to have a look around,’ Meg told her. It would be good to get out in the fresh air. She didn’t want to stay inside, moping all day.

  So, after a cup of coffee, and a slice of toast for Sally, they both set off.

  As they walked along, her mother chatted away, saying how she and Ted had walked to the harbour every day and had breakfast in the little café on the seafront. Meg imagined her parents walking along these very streets on their honeymoon, happily in love. What had happened? How had it died out? Had Mum been simmering with frustration and resentment all these years?

  ‘Here we are, and oh gosh, the café is actually open!’ Sally almost squealed in delight. ‘We must have a cup of tea there, Meg.’

  Meg gazed at the sleepy harbour and the deserted beach, imagining it in the summer with the sun shining, the fishermen on their boats, the holidaymakers sprawled on the sand or paddling in the sea. She looked to the right and saw a small café with the words ‘Harbour Café’ painted on it. In the summer there would probably be tables and chairs outside, she thought, imagining her mum and dad sitting there, all those years ago, holding hands, talking about their future plans.

  Like she and Oliver had done on their honeymoon in Mexico. They’d had a room overlooking the beach, and on the first morning, Oliver had gone down early to draw a big heart in the sand and write ‘I love you’ in the middle of it. Then they’d sat out on the balcony to eat breakfast, gazing out at the golden sand and brilliant blue sea, talking about all the things they would do, and the places they would go. ‘Maybe we’ll bring our children here one day,’ Meg had said, and Oliver had smiled and kissed her. She’d had no idea then that Oliver never intended them to have children.

  Mum was already walking into the café, so Meg followed, and the woman behind the counter greeted them. ‘Welcome to Goolan Bay.’

  ‘Thank you. Can we have a pot of tea for two please?’ Mum asked.

  ‘We don’t get many visitors this time of year,’ the woman said as she started making them a pot of tea. She looked about the same age as Sally but wasn’t as slender. She seemed a motherly, no-nonsense sort of woman, Meg thought.

  ‘I wanted to show my daughter where her father and I went on our honeymoon,’ Mum told her. ‘A lovely couple ran the café then. I can’t remember their names but they were so friendly. It was almost forty years ago now though.’

  ‘That would be my parents.’ The woman smiled. ‘They retired years ago. I’m Rose, and I’ve run the place ever since. Though actually I won’t be here much longer either. My daughter and her husband are taking over in the spring. Take a seat and I’ll bring this over.’ Sally and Meg sat down at the nearest table. A couple of minutes later the woman placed a tray, two pretty china cups and saucers, a sugar bowl and a milk jug onto the table. ‘I love this village but there’s a wider world out there and I want to see it. So I’m handing over to Jenny and I’m off to see the world.’

  ‘Good for you. I’d love to do that too,’ said Mum as she poured tea into one of the cups and handed it to Meg. ‘Are you travelling with friends or your partner?’ Then she added, ‘I’m Sally, by the way, and this is my daughter, Meg.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you both.’ Rose’s eyes glistened a bit as she continued. ‘I’m travelling alone. Me and my Glenn, we always planned on travelling together, but he died of cancer a couple of years ago. God rest his soul.’ She paused for a moment to compose herself. ‘When he knew he was dying, Glenn made me promise I’d still travel, that I’d see the world and make the memories for both of us. And now I’ve worked through my grief I’m ready to do it.’

  ‘That’s very brave of you,’ Sally told her. ‘My husband and I always planned on travelling too when we retired, but now he’s changed his mind.’

  ‘That’s a shame. It must be nice for you both to come back here again though, where you spent your honeymoon. Are you staying long?’ Rose asked.

  ‘We’re not both here,’ Sally confessed. ‘I’m afraid that sadly we’ve just split up. Meg has split up from her husband too so we’re spending Christmas together.’

  ‘Oh dear, I am sorry to hear that. What a sad thing to happen, especially at this time of year, b
ut it must be some comfort that you have each other for company.’ Rose looked genuinely sorry.

  ‘It is. At least we can spend Christmas together,’ Sally agreed.

  ‘Well, I hope you both enjoy your stay here.’ Rose made as if to turn away then turned back. ‘Look, if you have a few hours to spare on Saturday, you might like to come to our Christmas Fayre in the village hall? We’re raising money to buy presents for the children in the local hospital. Don’t worry if you have other plans though.’

  ‘I think that sounds fun, and it’s for a good cause. How do you feel about it, Meg?’ asked Sally.

  Saturday, so that was four days away. Would they still be here by then? She didn’t want to make promises they wouldn’t keep. Face it: you and Oliver are finished and Mum isn’t in a rush to go back to Dad, she told herself.

  ‘Sure.’ She nodded. ‘What time does it start?’

  Rose’s face broke into a big smile. ‘One o’clock and it finishes about three. Pop over and say hi if you come. I’ll be on the cake stall.’

  ‘We’d love to. And let me know if you need any more cakes made. I’d be happy to help out,’ Sally offered as she handed over a five-pound note to pay for the teas.

  ‘I will, thank you.’ Rose rummaged in the bag around her waist and handed over the change.

  Meg and Sally chatted for a while as they sipped their tea, reminiscing about the Christmas fayres they had helped out at in the past. ‘Remember when you roped me into doing some face painting and I painted that little boy’s face as a panda instead of a tiger? He was so upset,’ Meg said. ‘It took me ages to clean it off and repaint it.’

  Sally chuckled. ‘And then when you’d finished he decided he preferred being a panda after all!’

  Their tea finished, they placed the cups on the tray and took it over to the counter.