Single All the Way: An unputdownable and uplifting Christmas romance

by Karen King

  12

  Wednesday, 17 December

  Oliver

  Oliver slept restlessly. Meg was in his dreams again. Meg with her dark hair, smiling eyes, inviting lips. Half-awake he’d reached out for her, his hand resting on the empty, cold side of the bed, his mind registering that it had been a dream and Meg was gone. He’d got up then, made himself a coffee and taken it back to bed, sitting up to sip it as he and Meg used to do on holidays and weekends, talking about the week’s events, laughing, making love. They had talked so much but not about this, this Important Thing that had driven them apart. Meg had tried to, he had to admit that, but he’d always flitted over it, letting her think that it would happen someday, and changed the subject. He’d thought that they had plenty of time, that he didn’t have to worry about it now. How wrong he’d been.

  How had this happened? Sunday had been so full of promise: the children’s party had gone well and he and Meg had both been excited for the future with bookings coming in. Then Meg had ruined it by bringing up the subject of having a child. Or was it him who had ruined it by telling her he didn’t want one? Not now. Not ever. When had he actually decided that? When had his nervousness of becoming a dad grown to this suffocating fear?

  He got out of bed, padded across to the window, pulled aside the curtains and looked out at their neat garden, mowed lawn, pretty flowering tubs, and imagined a child playing out there. His and Meg’s child. Paddling in an inflatable pool in the summer, chasing bubbles, kicking a ball about, watching the two bunnies play in their outdoor run. All the things he had done with his mum because his dad had never been there. His dad hadn’t wanted a child, had tried to talk his mum into having an abortion, and had walked out not long after Oliver was born. Oliver had found this out when he’d overheard his parents arguing on one of his father’s infrequent visits. Well, it seemed like he had his father’s genes because he didn’t want a child either. And he certainly wasn’t going to bring one into the world just to walk out on it, only returning when that child was older because he needed money or a place to rest his head for the night, like his dad did. All his dad ever thought about was himself. Oliver wasn’t, and had never been, important to him.

  He never really talked about his childhood, not even to Meg. It hadn’t been a good one but his mum had done her best for him and he’d always known that she loved him and ‘had his back’, as she would often say, although he was also aware of the sacrifice she had made, a teenage mum giving up her youth for him, struggling alone. As soon as he’d been old enough, he’d tried to take responsibility for himself, getting a paper round, then a Saturday job, working to see himself through college. He wanted his mum to be free, to be happy.

  Oliver hadn’t told his mum that Meg had left him yet because he knew that she would try to talk him into spending Christmas with her and Adrian, her latest boyfriend, in Portugal. He didn’t want to do that; he’d feel in the way, and while he accepted the various men in his mother’s life, always had, he didn’t really want to be on ‘best buddy’ terms with them.

  He wondered what she’d say if he told her why he and Meg had split up. Would she blame herself, as she always did? She’d blamed herself when he was growing up and they had no money for electricity so had to sit huddled together with a blanket over them and had to boil a kettle on the gas stove to wash; she’d blamed herself when he had holes in his shoes and she had to cut cardboard insoles from a cereal box to put inside; she’d blamed herself when she couldn’t afford to buy him a winter coat, or throw a birthday party for him like his friends’. It wasn’t her fault though: she’d worked as hard as she could but it had been difficult for her to hold down a full-time job while she had him to look after. It was his dad’s fault. It takes two to have a baby and two to look after it but his dad had walked out and left it all to his eighteen-year-old mum. His mum who had been brought up in care and had never been parented herself. She’d loved him, though, and done her best.

  Sometimes he’d thought he’d like to be a dad. Especially since he’d met Meg. Meg was fun, gorgeous, caring – she would make a great mum. She herself had brilliant parents: they adored her and her brother Dan, and were like substitute parents to him. Ted was far more of a father to him than his own father, Markus, had ever been.

  ‘You’ll make a great father,’ Meg had told him. ‘You’re so good with children.’ Yes, he was – with other people’s children who weren’t his sole responsibility. Children who he only spent a couple of hours with, who then went home with their parents; children he didn’t have to love and provide for, who didn’t rely on him for a roof over their head, food in their belly and guidance. He had no idea how to be a dad and he’d rather not be a dad at all than be a rubbish one. Like his dad.

  And if not taking that risk meant losing Meg, then that was a price he would have to pay.

  13

  Meg

  Meg turned to see Leo jogging towards her. Sam was obviously at school but she wondered why Leo wasn’t working. Don’t be so nosy; he might be thinking the same about you, she chided herself. Meg had been working on her laptop all morning so Mum had left her in peace and gone out. After a spot of lunch, Meg had decided to go for a walk along the beach.

  ‘A bit wild today, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t mind. I like the sea no matter what the weather. It’s good to get out in the fresh air after a few hours at my desk.’

  ‘You work from home?’ she asked.

  ‘Mostly. I’m an accountant, which isn’t as boring as it sounds, honest.’ He stopped jogging and stood next to her. ‘How about you? What do you do?’

  ‘I’m a PR and social media manager – and a party organiser – so I work at home a lot too. I’ve been working on some online promo stuff for a make-up company and, like you, decided I needed some fresh air.’

  Leo gazed out at the white-tipped waves crashing against the shore. ‘I always find that walking – or jogging – along the beach helps me unwind.’

  ‘Me too,’ she agreed. ‘My parents came here for their honeymoon, you know. It was summer then, though.’ She wasn’t sure why she’d told him that.

  ‘A nice place to spend a honeymoon. Is that why you and your mum are here? Is your dad…?’

  He didn’t finish but she guessed what he was going to say. She shook her head. ‘No, Mum’s left him. I’ve left my husband too. We both walked out at the weekend, so Mum suggested we come down here to… think things over, I guess. It’s a big decision to end a marriage.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could snatch them back as obviously Leo was divorced. Had it been his decision to end the marriage? And why was she telling him all this anyway? She couldn’t seem to stop gabbling.

  ‘I know. I wish I’d thought about it a bit more.’ He looked thoughtful, as if he was casting his mind back. ‘I walked out on Nicky when Sam was five, although the spark had gone out of our marriage years before. As soon as Sam was born, to be honest. Nicky had always wanted a child; now she had one and her life was complete. It was like she didn’t need me apart from the income I brought in.’

  Is that why Oliver doesn’t want children? Meg wondered. Is he scared he’ll become second best? That seemed a bit selfish – surely a man could understand that children took up a lot of your time without feeling that they were being neglected? Her expression must have given her thoughts away because Leo quickly added, ‘I know how that sounds but I promise I wasn’t some needy, petulant father. I adore Sam but once he was born it was like I became invisible. Nicky was obsessed with Sam, to the extent that she wouldn’t let me do anything for him; she was convinced that only she knew what to do.’ He paused. ‘Looking back, I don’t think she meant to be so obsessed. I probably should have tried harder to make it work,’ he confessed. ‘We’ve sorted things out since. It took a while for Nicky to trust me alone with Sam. She was terrified I wouldn’t look after him properly, but gradually we worked it out and now we share custody.’

  He bent down, p
icked up a couple of pebbles and threw them into the sea, gazing at the ripples they made on the water as if deep in thought.

  ‘It must be hard going. Do you ever wish you hadn’t walked out?’

  ‘Sometimes. I don’t love Nicky and regret my part in the break-up, but we’re all in a good place now. Even if Sam is upset he hasn’t gone to Jamaica!’

  ‘Did you plan to have a baby? Sorry, that’s a rude question.’

  He looked at her curiously. ‘Yes, we did. Nicky had always wanted to be a mother. Why are you asking? Since we’re going for oversharing, I’m thinking maybe this has something to do with your marriage break-up?’

  The wind was bracing now, blowing her hair all over her face into a tangled mess. She swept it back. ‘I want a family and it turns out Oliver doesn’t, although he’s only just decided to tell me that and we’ve been married five years,’ she said flatly.

  ‘That’s a tough one,’ Leo said sympathetically. ‘Nicky was desperate for kids; I wasn’t against it so I agreed. I don’t regret having Sam. He’s the best thing in my life and I’ll never let him down again.’ Leo turned away from the sea. ‘Anyway, I’d better be off. I’ll have to go and collect Sam soon.’ He waved and jogged off.

  He’s clearly got his hands full with Sam, thought Meg. She’d seen how much Sam resented his mum going off to Jamaica without him and how he was determined to make things difficult for his dad. Relationships were so complicated. Perhaps she should be grateful that she and Oliver had split up now, before they had children. At least there were no custody battles to fight, no sharing of children to consider. Working out who was going to look after the bunnies was difficult enough. Parents splitting up usually had an effect on children – she felt devastated about her own parents’ split even though she was an adult.

  Meg remained on the beach for a while, watching the foamy waves churning back and forth. At least Dad had phoned Mum, and had made it clear that he didn’t want their marriage to end. She hadn’t heard a peep from Oliver since that morning in the hotel. Did that mean he accepted their marriage was over? That he didn’t want them to sort things out? Could they even sort things out? It hurt so much that Oliver didn’t even care enough to try and put things right.

  * * *

  She was almost back at the cottage when a message pinged. She took her phone out of her pocket to read it.

  I miss you. Please can we talk? x

  Oliver. Finally. She almost cried with relief.

  She immediately went to press the call button then hesitated. She longed to hear his voice, to see him again, to feel his arms around her and his lips on hers – but how could that ever be? How could they solve this?

  Then the phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. Oliver had clearly seen she’d read the message and had decided to chance it and call her. Her mind wondered whether to answer but her finger had already swiped to accept the call. Realising it was a video call, she quickly switched off her camera, not wanting him to see her yet.

  ‘Meg.’ Oliver’s face flashed onto the screen. He looked tired and vulnerable, dark hair tousled, eyes heavy. She longed to reach out and touch him. She closed her eyes as the word flowed through her. Just the sound of his voice made her want to see him again, to tell him that she was coming back home, that all she wanted was him.

  ‘Meg. I miss you so much.’ His voice was husky, faltering, as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

  ‘I miss you too,’ she confessed.

  ‘Then come home. Let’s talk this through. I don’t want to spend Christmas without you.’

  She closed her eyes again. Oh God, how she wanted to go back.

  ‘Meg, put the camera on. Please. I want to see you. I miss you.’

  She opened her eyes and stared at his image on the screen. Oliver. The love of her life. She hit the video button and a thumbnail image of her appeared in the bottom left corner. She looked tired too, her hair tangled by the wind, her eyes dark and puffy, the wintry sea just visible behind her.

  ‘Where are you? Are you on a beach?’ he asked, surprised.

  ‘I’m in Goolan Bay, near Boscastle, with my mum.’ She paused, suddenly feeling a wave of sadness. ‘She and Dad have split up and she’s rented a cottage down here for Christmas.’

  ‘What? When? I didn’t know they had split up! I’m so sorry.’ He sounded genuinely upset.

  ‘So am I. I was shocked when I rang Mum to… tell her what happened between us and she said Christmas was cancelled anyway as she’d split up with Dad and was going to Cornwall. She asked me to join her so I did.’

  ‘That’s a bit of a coincidence Is that why you’re not coming home? You prefer to go on holiday to Cornwall with your mum?’

  His voice was loud now, angry. How could he even think that?

  ‘Of course not. That’s a horrible thing to say.’

  ‘It doesn’t exactly sound like you’re missing me.’ He looked hurt.

  ‘And you miss me so much it’s taken you three days to phone, and the night I left you went clubbing with your mates,’ she reminded him. ‘And don’t deny it, Helen saw you.’

  ‘Okay, so I went out. It’s not a crime, is it? You were the one who walked out.’ He sounded aggrieved.

  ‘Yes, because I had just found out that you lied to me for our entire relationship.’

  ‘It wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t sure how I felt. Look, please can we meet and talk about this properly?’ He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face. ‘We can work this out, surely.’

  ‘I don’t see how we can work it out, Oliver. You don’t want children. Or have you changed your mind about that?’

  There was a long pause and as she saw the conflicting emotions on Oliver’s face, Meg felt her heart sink.

  ‘Then you’ve given me my answer, Oliver,’ she said sadly.

  ‘And you’ve chosen having a baby over me. Well, who are you intending to have the baby with? Is that why you’ve gone away, to find a suitable father?’

  ‘That’s a disgusting thing to say!’

  ‘And it’s a disgusting reason to split up. If you really love me, I should be enough for you. We came together as two people, not three or four, and our relationship should be the most important thing to you. It is to me but obviously you don’t share my feelings.’

  How dare he twist it like that! But before she could find the words to retort, Oliver ended the call.

  14

  Sally

  She was glad Meg had some work to do today; she needed this time alone. Sally strolled around the village that had changed so much since her honeymoon yet was still achingly familiar. Especially the Harbour Café. It was as if her feet led her there, her head full of the happy memories of her and Ted so madly in love. Could she get that back? Had she given up too easily?

  ‘Hello, Sally. Pot of tea, is it? And how about one of my freshly made scones too?’ Rose called from behind the counter.

  ‘That’d be perfect, thank you.’ Sally walked over to the counter to be served but Rose shooed her away. ‘Go and sit yourself down. I’ll bring them over to you.’

  What a nice woman, Sally thought, deciding to sit at the table by the window.

  She wasn’t sure it had been a good idea to ask Meg to join her in Goolan Bay; she might have been better coming alone. Her daughter obviously thought that she didn’t have a good enough reason to break up with Ted, not like she did with Oliver. And maybe Meg was right. Sally could understand why Meg had walked out: it was terrible for Oliver to lead her on like that then drop the bombshell when Meg only had a few child-bearing years ahead of her. She didn’t think he’d done it on purpose though. Oliver adored Meg, anyone could see that. He was probably panicking at the thought of being a father. He never talked about his childhood but Meg had mentioned that Oliver had been brought up by his mother, rarely saw his father, and they had no close family. Sally was sure they could both sort it out if only they would talk it through. There was no telling Meg, though. She had always b
een stubborn.

  Just like me. Sally smiled, acknowledging how alike they were. Once she and Meg had decided on something, that was that.

  Was she being stubborn now? Should she settle for the life she had with Ted, accept him how he was and make do with going away with her friends now and again even if he did sulk?

  ‘There you are, love. Sorry I took so long. I had a panicky phone call about the Fayre.’ Rose’s voice broke through Sally’s thoughts.

  She glanced up, noticing that the other woman seemed a bit flustered. ‘Problems?’

  ‘Can’t be helped – time of the year, isn’t it? Two of the ladies have come down with the flu, which means I’ve got to run the cake stall by myself and we’re a craft table short too.’ She put the tray down on the table. ‘I don’t suppose you have a couple of hours to spare to help, do you? I hope that doesn’t sound cheeky – feel free to refuse,’ she added.

  It was just what she needed, something to keep her busy. She was driving herself mad going over and over things. She wasn’t sure if Meg would want to help though; better ask her first.

  ‘I’d love to. Do you want me to help you out on the cake stall? I can make a couple of cakes if you want. And I’ll ask Meg if she wants to help out with a stall. She’s working on a couple of projects though, so I’m not sure if she has time.’