The Christmas Stocking and Other Stories Read online

  ‘As an artist, I think it’s a perfect green. I never get why people seem to want everything to be the same colour. Brides who insist that their bridesmaids have their shoes dyed to the exact shade of turquoise when they could just wear bright pink shoes. It would look better.’

  Felix looked at her, surprised. ‘So you don’t think everything needs to match?’

  ‘Definitely not,’ she said, ‘but I do have to tell you that, according to the pictures on Facebook, Gus’s parents are quite into matching.’ She flushed guiltily, feeling suddenly disloyal to people who had, after all, been kind enough to invite her for Christmas. ‘I ought to check my Facebook. See how they’re getting on over there in la belle France.’ She paused. ‘Can I use your computer?’

  When he didn’t immediately reply she wondered if she’d asked the wrong thing. Some people didn’t like other people using their equipment. But she hadn’t got the impression he was like that.

  ‘You can use my computer, sure, but unless you’re going to write a novel or play Solitaire it won’t be a lot of use to you.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘No internet. I can get Wi-Fi on my phone if I go right to the top of the hill, climb a tree and the wind is in the right direction but not down here.’

  Romy laughed. ‘Really? I love that!’

  ‘It’s funny, but hellishly inconvenient. I usually just go to the pub and get it. I am sorting it,’ he went on, still awkward, ‘but it involves cabling. Is that a problem?’

  She thought about it. Normally being without access to social media would have been shocking, but just now it seemed perfectly OK.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘You can text all right, so we’re not completely cut off from the world. But obviously, online shopping is out of the question. Hence my trip to town earlier.’

  ‘You mean I won’t be able to shop the sales on Christmas morning?’

  He’d got her measure now and was laughing. ‘No, you won’t. You’ll just have to open your stocking like every other civilised person.’

  ‘Except I haven’t got a stocking. Father Christmas thinks I’m in France.’

  ‘You may have to have it late this year.’

  She nodded. ‘What about you?’

  He frowned. ‘Me too. I sent a stocking over to Connecticut in my girlfriend’s luggage – last year we both spent a lot of time doing them.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll bring it back with her, when she’s home.’

  He frowned again. ‘Actually, I think she is home.’

  After a few moments she said, ‘You mean, back with her parents?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not her parents so much, as Connecticut – America.’

  ‘I think I’d find it hard to emigrate,’ said Romy. ‘I mean, Gus’s parents can afford a mansion in France and it looks amazing. But I’d feel cut off from family and friends. My own culture.’

  ‘Lauren seemed keen to be British when she first came over. Her family is very grand – definitely went over on the Mayflower, or one of those other early ships, so I think she felt she was coming back to the Old Country. But more recently – well, I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Shall we find something nice to watch on telly?’ she said after a little while. All this talk of Gus and Lauren was a necessary but unwelcome reminder that she and Felix had other halves to consider.

  ‘Or a film!’ His enthusiasm returned. ‘I have a zillion DVDs.’

  ‘Oh, no Netflix?’

  He shook his head. ‘No internet. Come and look through the selection and then we need to think about food. It’s Christmas. It’s the law.’

  ‘I’ve got some lovely Cheddar in my car,’ said Romy. ‘It was going to be a present for Gus’s parents. They miss Cheddar, apparently, in France.’

  ‘I’ve got some basics, potatoes, some tins of things.’

  ‘We’ll be fine!’ Romy had been a student for a few years now. She was confident that she could make something tasty out of random ingredients, even if Felix couldn’t. ‘Let’s have a look at these DVDs then.’

  He did have a vast collection, kept in shoeboxes. There were some lovely old films she’d either never seen or hadn’t seen for ages, and box sets of TV series she’d never caught up with.

  ‘I think it’s got to be Miracle on 34th Street,’ said Felix. ‘It’s Christmas. Then we’ll make dinner.’

  When he’d set it all up he plonked himself on the sofa next to her. ‘I’m not snuggling up or anything, but if I sit over there I’ll get a terrible crick in the neck.’

  Romy wished he could snuggle up. She couldn’t imagine anything nicer.

  ‘Do you know, I’d never seen that before?’ said Romy when the film had ended. ‘It’s lovely!’ She tried to wipe her eyes without him seeing, and was caught out.

  ‘It’s OK. You’re supposed to cry.’

  ‘And I did! Now I’m hungry!’

  ‘Let’s make something to eat.’

  Gus wasn’t a great one for sharing a kitchen. He did like to cook, with a lot of knife sharpening and banging, and throwing used pans into the sink, but he didn’t want Romy there while he did it. Felix, however, was much more relaxed in the kitchen. He was happy for Romy to chop and peel, or, when it came to the curry sauce, stir and taste and fiddle with the seasoning. (Gus despised tasting food while you cooked it. His theory was that if you knew what you were doing, you knew how the food tasted.)

  Felix was even very forgiving when Romy added far too much chilli paste, insisting, between gulps of water, that he liked a bit of heat – especially at Christmas.

  ‘What would you like to drink with that?’ he asked Romy, when she’d found some yoghurt in the back of the fridge and had managed to cool it down a bit.

  ‘Have you got any lager?’

  He nodded. ‘Over in the studio. I’ll go and get it. It’ll be nice and cold.’

  While he was getting it, Romy took her plate with her to the sofa. It was so cosy there. Could she have done this with Gus? she wondered. And she decided no. Curry on your lap in front of the TV would never be allowed at Christmas, and if they had it at any other time, Gus would be watching sport. Romy didn’t mind this so much, but she hated it when Gus kept getting up and punching the air, shouting ‘yes!’ or ‘come on!’ He would bounce back down on to the sofa, jolting her out of her little doze.

  Felix sat down next to her and handed her a beer. ‘So, what do you fancy now? Ever seen Northern Exposure? It’s the best! I had to get this from Germany to get the original soundtrack.’

  ‘Music is important, isn’t it?’ Romy took another mouthful of curry and then a sip of beer to cool her mouth.

  ‘Very. Not everyone gets that.’

  She didn’t ask if Lauren got that. She’d be hoping for the answer to be ‘no’. That would have been wrong for so many reasons.

  Romy yawned widely. ‘Oh, sorry!’ She glanced up at the big clock that hung on one of the walls. It was only ten o’clock. She felt guilty. It was rude to yawn.

  ‘Early start? Because of the market?’

  ‘It was pretty early. And I was up late last night making things.’

  ‘It was definitely worth it,’ he said, indicating the branches with their little balloon lights. ‘But I think you need to sleep now. The thing is I’ll need to change the sheets on my bed—’

  ‘I’d much prefer to sleep on the sofa,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ll be very happy here. The sofa is comfy and the fire is cosy. I’ve always wanted to have a fire in my bedroom, so to speak, and now I’ve got one!’

  Everything she said was true but really she didn’t want him to go to a lot of trouble so she could sleep in his bed. She felt it would inevitably involve thoughts she didn’t want expressed. If she didn’t go near his bedroom she’d be less likely to imagine what it would be like if he didn’t have a girlfriend and she didn’t have Gus.

  He frowned and considered. ‘Oh, OK. It would be easier because I’m not sure if I’ve actually got any clean bedding to go
on the bed. I’ll put it in the machine and then back on when it’s washed for when Lauren comes home.’

  ‘She’ll appreciate that.’ Romy certainly would. It wasn’t the kind of gesture that would occur to Gus.

  ‘In the meantime, I’ll find a sleeping bag and some blankets.’

  It took a little time to do everything needed to get Romy ready for bed. She didn’t have a toothbrush and although Lauren had left hers, she’d rather her teeth all fell out than borrow it. She did borrow a smear of moisturiser though. Then she wished she hadn’t. It smelt wrong. Lovely, but wrong.

  The most intimate moment was when they were putting out the balloon lights, which took ages. When the last one had been switched off they were suddenly in darkness, very close.

  Romy longed to move forward an inch. She knew he would put his arms round her and kiss her. She desperately wanted him to. But she knew if he did it would shatter the innocence of their time together. As it was, nothing had happened that they couldn’t talk about to their partners. They’d watched telly, cooked, watched more telly and had a few drinks. All fine.

  She sensed he felt the same because he didn’t move for a few seconds while they stood in the darkness. She couldn’t move first because she was in the corner, with her back to the big wall-sized window.

  He cleared his throat. ‘Sometimes, when all the lights are out, I see deer coming out of the woods.’

  ‘I’d love to see that!’ she said quickly.

  ‘Maybe – if the roads are still icy and you have to stay – we could put food out for them? I don’t like to do it all the time in case they get dependent. But they do like it.’

  ‘What do they eat?’

  He made a face. ‘Deer food. I buy it.’

  ‘Oh, can we do it? I’d so like to see them.’

  ‘It is magical.’

  It was no longer so dark. Ambient light now glowed from outside as the moon escaped from behind a cloud for a moment.

  ‘I’ll just go and put a light on,’ said Felix. ‘Then we can go to bed.’

  Romy was aware how safe she felt. She didn’t really know why, but she felt absolutely confident that Felix wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want.

  Although she was blissfully comfortable on the sofa, her head on a pile of pillows, one of which had a silk pillowcase, her feet towards the fire that provided warmth and a comforting glow, it took Romy a little while to drop off, in spite of being very tired. For though she was aware of being very happy, she was also aware that this happiness was just for now, and for tomorrow night, if she didn’t make herself try and get home. Just for the moment she lay there, appreciating her lovely day, the fire, and – she realised with something of a shock – being away from Gus. He was a lovely guy, she knew. But he wasn’t the one for her.

  Romy got up early on Christmas Eve so she could be showered and dressed before he appeared. She’d rinsed out her knickers the night before and put them on the wood burner to dry. She was pleased and a bit surprised to find them dry and she was feeling quite respectable when he appeared shortly afterwards.

  ‘You’re looking very bright and bushy-tailed. I hope that doesn’t mean you didn’t sleep and so had to get up at dawn?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be looking bright and bushy-tailed if I had. I’m up early because it’s a work day and I want to do some.’ She paused, aware she probably sounded a bit barking. ‘So I don’t feel guilty about being here.’

  He nodded. ‘No need to feel guilty as we have discussed, but I’m pleased you’re keen.’

  ‘I’d love a place of my own to work on. You just need to show me what to do.’

  ‘Breakfast first, please!’

  ‘Oh, OK. Slacker.’

  She loved her day. There was a barn next to Felix’s studio and this was where she worked. He lent her protective gloves, some headphones so she could hear music and there was a pile of lovely William De Morgan tiles to sort out.

  He’d said he really only needed six but she had knocked off the old cement and glued six by lunchtime, so she made it her mission to do them all.

  Felix didn’t look to see what she had achieved until he had declared his own work finished.

  ‘Oh wow! You’ve done a brilliant job! You’ve cleaned all the tiles and glued the broken bits. You’re amazing! Lauren would never have— Sorry, I shouldn’t mention her.’ He didn’t say anything for a couple of moments. ‘She wouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘It’s my thing, that’s all,’ said Romy, trying to conceal how pleased she was with his reaction.

  ‘Come into the house. I’m not going to let you lift another finger tonight!’ He paused. ‘I don’t know if you noticed, working so hard, but the track is still covered with black ice. There’ll be no point in trying to leave tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll have to stay here then.’ In her head she counted the days: tonight, and tomorrow, Christmas Day. Unless the freezing weather continued, after that this happy idyll would end. She smiled at him, hoping he didn’t see the edge of sadness that she felt.

  He was as good as his word. She showered and put on a pair of his joggers with a T-shirt and then his dressing gown. He seated her on the sofa in front of the wood burner with a very large glass of Bailey’s.

  Later he replaced this with a glass of wine and a bowl of coq au vin and mashed potato.

  ‘The stew was in the freezer,’ he said. ‘Lauren isn’t fond of “messed around with” food. She’s a grilled fish and salad girl.’

  ‘And I bet she looks amazing because of it,’ said Romy.

  ‘Yes, yes she does.’

  In spite of herself, Romy yawned widely. ‘Golly, you must be fed up with the sight of my fillings.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Have you got any?’

  ‘A couple.’

  ‘I wasn’t looking. Now, can I interest you in the Work, Rest and Play pudding? You’ve worked, I hope you’ll rest and tomorrow we’ll play.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Melted Mars Bars with brandy and ice cream.’

  Romy smiled. ‘O.M.G.’

  ‘I like it too. Lauren says—’

  ‘Lauren is beautiful because she doesn’t eat refined sugar and fat,’ said Romy quickly.

  ‘So why are you— Sorry,’ he said, and went to fetch the puddings.

  Romy was aware of the smell of toast and the sound of a crackling fire. For a few seconds she let herself enjoy both things and work out why she was experiencing them. When she remembered, she had to stop a smile spreading over her features.

  ‘Hey! Happy Christmas! Sorry to wake you but I was excited.’

  She smiled sleepily at Felix who was holding a pile of toast right by her nose and had obviously just made up the wood burner.

  ‘Why?’ Her voice was croaky and she was glad he wasn’t going to kiss her because her breath probably smelt. She’d done the best with her teeth the previous two nights, with a towel, some toothpaste and one of those bottle brush things you put between your teeth.

  ‘Because it’s Christmas! I always used to get into my parents’ bed on Christmas morning!’ His expression changed. ‘Oh God, sorry. That came out wrong.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ said Romy. ‘I understand completely. It’s Christmas morning. I should get up.’ Suddenly she became aware that she’d discarded his borrowed nightclothes when she got too hot during the night and was only wearing a strappy top and her knickers.

  ‘No! Wait there! I’ve got you a stocking.’

  ‘Really? But you didn’t know I was going to be here!’ While Felix was out of the way she grabbed the T-shirt he had lent her from the floor next to her and put it on. She felt better now she was more covered up although her muscles were a bit stiff from the work she’d done the day before.

  He came back, looking pleased with himself, and handed her a mug of tea. ‘The fact I didn’t know you’d be here is what made doing the stocking such fun. I’ll go and get it,’ he went on. ‘It’s only little things.’

  She took
a bite of buttered toast then a glance at the clock, which told her it was nearly nine. ‘Have you been up for hours?’ she said as he returned, holding a sock, the kind you’d wear with walking boots. It was full of knobbly things.

  ‘Yes! I told you I was excited. Here!’

  She took another bite of toast and gulp of tea and then took the stocking. She could see he couldn’t wait for her to finish either before she opened it.

  The first thing she took out was a CD.

  ‘It’s one of my band’s. I hope you like it.’

  ‘I’m sure I will!’ She was delighted to have this. It would be something to treasure forever.

  ‘Do finish your toast,’ he said.

  ‘I will, if you don’t mind. I’m always starving first thing.’

  ‘Oh me too! Lauren doesn’t really get breakfast. She just has a slice of lemon in hot water.’

  ‘Which explains her wonderful figure and amazing skin,’ said Romy, helping herself to another slice of toast.

  ‘Yes! You’re right again. How did you know?’

  Romy shrugged, still chewing.

  Then she went back to her stocking. She didn’t want to rush it.

  The next thing to come out was a tin of sticking plasters.

  ‘You have to remember, this is all completely unprepared,’ said Felix, possibly slightly embarrassed. ‘And you may have developed blisters yesterday, chipping away at the cement. It was quite a hard job.’

  ‘I love plasters,’ said Romy. ‘But I never have one when I need one. Although I am a bit stiff today I haven’t got blisters, but these’ll come in really useful when I have got them.’ She meant every word and hoped she didn’t come across as gushing. She put her hand back in the sock and pulled out a lemon.

  ‘Lemons always come in handy,’ said Felix.

  ‘They do!’ agreed Romy, thinking: Especially if you eat them for breakfast. Out loud she said, ‘We can make punch later. If you’ve got plenty of them.’

  ‘Always,’ he said.