No Half Measures - Sixth Movement - Chapter 41

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No Half Measures
Sixth Movement
Chapter 41
by Jenny Walker

 


 

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Editor's Note: Jenny Walker has graciously allowed me to represent her original story No Half Measures on BigCloset. Originally published on BigCloset Classic, this story segment was not migrated over to BigCloset TopShelf. This story segment first appeared on BigCloset Classic on Sunday, November 02, 2003 - 02:48 pm. Due to the original story presentation format being unsuitable and unwieldy for most portable devices (each part being over 1 meg in length), the story is now being broken up into single chapters for easier reading. The original Movements will be indicated on their respective chapters. The first chapter of each Movement will retain the original comments and read hits so as to preserve them for the author.

Sephrena Lynn Miller


 
 
Chapter 41
 
 
The next day I received a surprising phone call.

"Hello?"

"Hi Cara? Guess who this is?"

I had no idea. "Err…it's an American voice, but beyond that, I haven't the faintest idea."

I heard a chuckle. "You've forgotten me already? It's Aaron."

"Aaron? Aaron Kramer?"

"The one and only."

"What are you phoning me for?"

Another chuckle. "That's the usual response I get when I phone nice girls."

I laughed. "Sorry, I'm just surprised to hear from you."

"Nicely surprised, I hope. I've been hearing that things are going well for you on your side of the pond."

"Yes, not bad at all. I've had a Number One single and my album's doing pretty well. We did a few gigs and most went OK. What about your tour, how's it going?"

"Hellish. I mean in the sense that it's killing me with exhaustion. It's going well, but that's actually why I'm phoning…"

"I'm not sure I follow."

"We've got the West Coast final leg of our tour in the New Year and we had a support band lined up, but the lead singer has fallen while skiing and broken his leg."

I thought I had an idea of where he was heading, but I didn't want to presume anything. "And?"

He chuckled. "I was thinking — who can we get to fill in? A lovely replacement came to my mind."

"Oh, who was that?" I asked. I was going to make him say it plainly.

"I think you know."

"I think you should just tell me," I replied with a smile that he couldn't see.

"Alright, I'll come clean — how would you and your band like to do support for us for our last concerts?"

"I'm certainly tempted. Have you talked to my manager or the folks at Sony here in London?"

Aaron snorted. "Like I'd waste time talking to company flunkies? Naw, I thought I'd go straight to the source and ask you first."

"Tell you what, I'm all for it, but I'll have to run it past The Powers That Be. I'm not such a superstar that I can just order everyone about."

He laughed. "Sure you are; you just haven't realised it yet."

"When are the concerts?"

"We kick off in San Diego on Friday the sixteenth and end up in Seattle on Sunday the twenty-fifth."

"Finish off in your home city," I mused.

"Yeah, hopeless old romantic that I am."

"It sounds great to me. How do we make this happen?"

"I'll get my tour manager to contact your manager and the Sony pimps and tell them to work it out. I can't wait, we'll have a ball."

I laughed. "I hope so."
 

*          *          *

 
Not long after that, I received another phone call and again I was surprised at who it was.

"Hello Nic-ola?"

The voice was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. "Yes?"

"Oh, hello, it's your Auntie Vera here."

I was stunned into silence for a moment and then remembered that it was my turn to speak. I regained my composure and said, "Aunt Vera, how nice to hear from you. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she paused and continued, "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm grand. What can I do for you?"

"Did your sister happen to mention anything to you about Christmas Day?"

"Yes she did…" I didn't quite know what else to say.

"Well… I was wondering if you would like to come for Christmas dinner?"

"I don't know… I mean, yes, it would be lovely and I'm very grateful to be asked… but it could be difficult."

"With your father, you mean?"

"Yes, we haven't exactly been on the best of terms."

"So I believe and I think it's absolutely ridiculous!" she exclaimed. This was more like the Aunt Vera I remembered. "It's awful that you two haven't spoken since… well you know. What would Esther think about it?"

I closed my eyes and winced. My mother was always such an advocate for family life. I knew that she would be bitterly disappointed if she knew. Did she know? I shook my head to clear such esoteric wonderings. "I don't think she would like it," I replied softly.

Her tone was softer now, "I know I wasn't exactly kind to you last Christmas, Nicola, and I'm not saying I completely condone what you are doing, but I know that families should be together. Not just at Christmas. Please come."

I was blown away by this honesty from her. "I… I guess I could come."

"That's great. I know that Phillip and Dawn will be delighted. Will you be staying with your sister Claire on Christmas Eve before travelling up to us?"

I thought about this for a moment and it did make sense. Then I realised that would mean that my father would be alone on Christmas Eve. Claire had to go and stay with him. "No Aunt Vera, I think Claire should stay in Cardiff on Christmas Eve with Dad. I'll just stay here in London and travel up on Christmas morning."

"Nonsense, child, you can't do that. Be alone on Christmas Eve? Besides, it's far too long a journey to do in one go." She paused for a moment. "Why don't you come and stay with us on Christmas Eve?"

I hesitated. "I don't know… I mean I don't want to put you to any trouble…"

"That's settled then," she interrupted. "It will be no trouble at all. Shall we expect you for tea?"

I was so taken aback that I agreed without thinking and we said our goodbyes. I later phoned Claire and she was pleased to hear that I was coming and especially so when she heard that I was staying over the night before. She agreed with me about her staying with Dad. I asked her if she had prompted Aunt Vera to phone me. There had been a guilty silence before she confessed that she had. She had thought that I would not go unless directly asked. She was probably right.
 

*          *          *

 
My Christmas arrangements meant that I had more presents to buy. I don't know if you have ever been shopping along Oxford Street or not, but it is a very busy place at the best of times. Three days before Christmas is not the best of times. In fact, I would be hard pressed to think of a worse time. I imagine that some war zones are more peaceful than the centre of London in the run up to Christmas.

Gareth and I battled our way through the hordes of people frantically searching for that elusive perfect gift. I was reasonably focussed in what I was looking for and did manage to get most of the things on my list. We also headed to Knightsbridge where there was a higher class of frenetic shopping going on. Having spent a significant amount of money and with Gareth loaded down with bag upon bag, I eventually called it a day.

When we got home, Gareth brought in my purchases and we both wearily sank onto a sofa in the den. We gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Pantridge.

"Thanks Gareth," I said with a smile.

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "If I'm still working for you next Christmas, you're doing your shopping earlier. Understand?"

I laughed. "I promise."
 

*          *          *

 
On Christmas Eve, I gave Gareth and Mrs. Pantridge their gifts and they seemed to be very appreciative. After lunch, I told them both to go home and enjoy their Christmas. Gareth was reluctant to leave.

"I said go!" I smiled as I put my hands on my hips.

He laughed. "As loath as I am not to obey my boss, I'm not sure I should leave."

"Why not? For heaven's sake, Gareth, it's Christmas. Go home."

He shrugged. "I don't mind. Christmas isn't a big thing for me."

"Well you're not working over Christmas. I couldn't afford your rates." I winked.

He grinned. "I don't suppose you'll let me work it for free?"

"No chance!"

"OK… but look, you be careful."

I smiled. "Gareth, the trouble that I'm going to have to deal with — you couldn't protect me from. You haven't met my family."

At last, he agreed to go. He said that he would be back first thing on Boxing Day and I knew better than to argue with him. I packed a suitcase with clothes and the bits and pieces I would need. Alright, I know I was only going to be away for one night, but a girl needs to be prepared for several eventualities. I chuckled to myself as I remembered that, for such a visit, Nick would have brought the one set of clothes he was wearing and a toothbrush. I put my case and the wrapped presents into my little car and set off on the long journey to Swansea. It was just less than two hundred miles away, but there was a slow stream of traffic escaping London that afternoon. It felt good to be among them. There was a certain camaraderie that I imagined. We were all escaping the big city. As much as I loved living in London, at times like that, I just wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle.
 

*          *          *

 
I arrived at Aunt Vera's and Uncle Keith's just before six p.m. I had worn a knee-length red tartan skirt with a black top and matching red jacket. It was fashionable, but reasonably conservative. I didn't plan on making things any worse for myself than they had to be. As I stepped out of the car, I realised that I was exhausted from the drive. With a heavy feeling inside, I stepped up to the door and rang the bell.

Aunt Vera opened the door. "Nicola," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Aunt Vera," I said as I entered. I wasn't sure what to do, but I gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled strangely at me.

"You look well, child," she said as she appraised me.

"Thanks," I said with the surprise on my face no doubt being evident.

She shook her head. "This is strange for me, but I have to admit you do carry yourself extremely well."

I grinned. "Aunt Vera, go easy on the compliments. You're starting to scare me."

"Oh, get away," she said waving a hand at me, but she smiled nonetheless. "Keith," she called, "Come and bring Nicola's things in for her."

Uncle Keith came out of the living room and stared at me. After a moment's silence he spoke, "Err… hello Nicola. It's nice to have you here."

I smiled and for good measure gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek also. He was a little stunned at first, but then hugged me back before going to get my things from the car. I was distracted by the sound of the wildebeest stampeding across the plain and turned around to find that it was actually my cousin Dawn thundering down the stairs. She nearly bowled me over as she encased me in a hug.

"Nicola! Hi! Hi!"

I laughed and steadied myself as I hugged her back. "Hi Dawn, how are you?"

"I'm great," she gushed. "Oh my God, I can't believe that the great Cara Malone is staying with us."

"Dawn," Aunt Vera said sternly, "Don't take the Lord's name in vain."

"Sorry, Mum," she said reflexively, not even looking at her mother.

I swatted Dawn lightly on the arm. "None of that nonsense. I'm just your ordinary cousin Nicola."

She laughed. "You? Ordinary? I think not! You look fantastic."

I grinned. "You're looking pretty good yourself."

I turned around again as I heard more feet on the stairs. It was Phil.

"Hi, Phil," I said brightly.

He grinned. "Hi, Nicola."

We hugged.

Dawn grinned. "Mum has a bit of a dilemma. She doesn't know where you're going to sleep tonight…"

"Dawn," Aunt Vera interrupted in a warning voice.

Dawn ignored her. "You see, there are three bedrooms. Mum and Dad's, mine, and Phil's. It wouldn't be appropriate to have you sleep on the couch in the living room, would it?"

I didn't want to get involved, but said noncommittally, "If you say so."

She continued, "So obviously I said you could share with me, but Mum wasn't too happy about that."

Aunt Vera stopped Dawn in mid-flow, "Dawn, I just said it was a strange situation and I wasn't sure what was best."

Phil slid his arm around my shoulders. "Mum, I'm happy to share my bed with her if you think that's a better option." He gave a lascivious wink and my poor Aunt's eyes nearly popped.

"Phillip! Behave yourself and let your cousin go." She sighed. "Alright, Nicola, would you mind sharing with Dawn?"

I stifled a laugh. "Not at all, that would be fine."

"Aww," Phil said as he pouted, "I'm all disappointed."

Aunt Vera glared at him as she headed for the kitchen. Phil, Dawn and I went into the living room and caught up with what had been going on in our lives. They told me that they had enjoyed the Cardiff concert. I remonstrated with them over them not telling me in advance that they were coming. I told them in future they had to let me know, as I would get them complimentary tickets.
 
 
At the dinner table, the conversation was initially a little stilted, but it soon improved. Phil and Dawn kept asking me questions about my music and what I had been doing. Before long, Aunt Vera and Uncle Keith actually joined in with questions of their own and I realised that they were more interested than they would like to let on. It was lovely to share a family dinner with them and it reminded me of what I had been missing.

After we had finished our meal, I helped Aunt Vera with the washing up. "Aunt Vera, I just want to tell you how grateful I am that you've allowed me to come and stay here." I paused. "I've missed the family feeling so much…" I broke off, as I suddenly felt choked.

She noticed and she smiled warmly. "Come here, child." She hugged me tight and whispered, "I'm sorry for being such an old biddy at times. It's hard for us old dogs to accept new tricks from you young ones."

I had to fight hard to keep the tears back. As Aunt Vera was my mother's sister, there was a certain familiar resemblance there and as we hugged, it felt so much like it had with my own mother.

The rest of the evening was spent helping them to do some last minute gift wrapping and watching an old Christmassy film on TV. I began to relax more and more. That is, when I was able to forget about the impending reunion with my father the next day.
 

*          *          *

 
"You sure you don't mind sharing your bed with me?" I asked Dawn as she closed the door of her bedroom behind us.

"Mind? Of course not. Why would I?"

I shrugged. "I just don't want to freak you out."

She shook her head. "Don't be silly. Now come on and get ready for bed." She paused. "Do you want me to leave while you change?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No, I'm fine."

As I slipped off my top and my bra, I noticed her peeking at me. I bashfully held my nightdress in front of my chest.

"What is it?" I asked.

She grinned and apologised. "I'm sorry, but… wow! You've got fantastic breasts."

"Dawn!" I protested.

She giggled. "Sorry, but I sort of always wondered whether it was all padding or the real thing. Although, having seen some of the outfits you wear, I suppose I should have known."

I felt myself redden. "It's not quite the real thing. I did have surgery."

She grinned. "Looks real enough to me." She sat and brushed her hair and continued. "Last Christmas, I thought you looked great but I wondered if it was just a phase or something. Looking at you now, there's no doubt that you're meant to be Nicola, not Nick."

"Thanks… I think," I replied as I slipped into bed.

She climbed in the other side and switched off the light.

"Now enough about me," I said, "Time to get down to real business."

"What do you mean?"

"I hear you're still seeing that chap Adam. So, it's been over a year now. Sounds serious to me. Fill me in on all the details."
 

*          *          *

 
We exchanged presents the next morning and the atmosphere was light and relaxed. I received some nice gifts and the others seem pleased with what I had bought for them. I had tried not to be too flashy with what I bought for them, but had perhaps gone a little over the top.

Of course, with it being Christmas morning, we went to Church. I wore a knee-length red jersey dress and my black suede boots. As we sat in the pew, I noticed that Phil's gaze kept drifting down to my legs.

I nudged him and grinned. "Keep your eyes to yourself."

He choked a laugh and whispered back to me. "I can't help it. I'm sitting beside a gorgeous celebrity."

I enjoyed the singing of the carols as always and it was comforting to hear the Christmas story presented clearly in the readings and the message that the minister brought.

When we got back home, I felt the tension rising within me, as I knew that my father and Claire would soon be arriving.
 

*          *          *

 
Dawn and I were helping Aunt Vera in the kitchen with the Christmas Dinner preparations. Uncle George arrived before long and made his usual loud dramatic entrance. He came striding into the kitchen with two bottles of wine clinking in his hands.

"Hello, nieces! How's about a hug and kiss for your favourite uncle?"

As Dawn obliged him, I grinned and, feigning an innocent look, said, "But Uncle George, I've already hugged and kissed Uncle Keith."

He laughed and shook his head. "I always said you were too smart for your own good. Look at you, kid. I have to say I've been mightily impressed with what you've achieved this past year. You'd be amazed how much it does for my reputation with my younger clients when I happened to mention who my famous niece is."

I grinned and gave him his hug and kiss. "Thanks, Uncle George, I'm glad someone's proud of me."

He gave me a knowing and sympathetic smile and squeezed my shoulder. "Now, who's going to join me in a glass of wine or do I have to make my lonely pilgrimage to Yuletide inebriation unaccompanied again?"

I chuckled. "I'll join you for the first part of your journey, but I think you'll have to finish the quest alone."

He winked as he poured me a glass. "Maybe you'll surprise us both with new-found stamina for this noble pursuit."

If only he knew, I thought, but made a mental note to show some restraint.
 

*          *          *

 
I had already accompanied Uncle George through my second glass of his wine, when the doorbell rang. The sudden adrenaline rush and apprehension that I felt made me drink the rest of my third glass fairly quickly. Aunt Vera had scurried out of the kitchen to answer the door and she had pulled the kitchen door half closed behind her. Dawn noticed my uneasiness and she slid her arm around my waist and gave me an encouraging smile. We listened to the greetings taking place in the hallway.

"Merry Christmas, Bill, Merry Christmas, Claire," Aunt Vera said.

"The same to you, Vera," I heard my father say. I shivered involuntarily at the sound of his voice and was filled with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I wanted to run out and give him a hug, but on the other hand I felt like fleeing out the back door.

Uncle Keith added his greetings too. I heard Aunt Vera clear her throat nervously before speaking. "Claire… did you mention anything to your father?"

"Mention what?" my father asked.

"No, Aunt Vera, I didn't," Claire said quietly.

"What are you all talking about?" my father asked.

"Bill, Christmas is a family time as you know and there's someone here who should be here. She's quite uptight about seeing you, but I know she's missed you. I'm pretty sure you've missed her too if you would just admit it to yourself."

"You've all been scheming behind my back, haven't you?" my father said in a low voice, but I could just about hear him nonetheless.

"Nicola," Aunt Vera called, "Do you want to come out here?"

I didn't, but I did as requested. I slowly opened the kitchen door fully and stepped into the hall with trepidation. I looked at my father and, seeing him standing there in the flesh, I felt as if my heart was aching. I forced a smile and in a croaky voice said, "Hello, Dad."

His eyes narrowed and he looked me up and down. He took a deep breath and looked back to Aunt Vera and Claire. In a soft voice he said, "I don't appreciate being set up like this." He looked back to me and, for a moment, I thought he was going to speak to me. However, he simply shook his head and walked on into the living room.

Aunt Vera shrugged sympathetically and murmured, "Give him time, dear. He'll come round."

Claire came over to me and gave me a hug. "Merry Christmas, sister of mine."

"Merry Christmas," I replied, but I didn't feel very merry. Inside I felt the bitter hurt of rejection all over again. I could feel the moisture building up around my eyes, but I blinked furiously to clear it. I was determined not to break down and give him the satisfaction of seeing me crying.

Claire sighed. "I'm sorry, Nicola, I really thought he would realise it was time to make up. He might yet."

I shook my head. "I doubt it," I said in a wavering voice. "Did he… did he even ask… did he want to know where I was going to be today?"

She looked away and then shook her head. "No, he didn't. I think deep down he wanted to, but you know how stubborn he can be."

I did and that was the problem. Unless my father chose to change his mind, there was little point in anyone trying to change it for him. I realised that as well meaning as Aunt Vera had been, there was little chance of her plan succeeding.

We busied ourselves in the kitchen, as dinner was almost ready to be served. Uncle George placed another full glass in my hand and I accepted it gratefully. Aunt Vera called everyone to the dining room and we all took our places. Thankfully she'd had the wisdom not to seat my father beside me: he was at the other side of the table. I took my seat and cast furtive glances in his direction. He was deliberately not looking at me it seemed.

Dinner was served and Uncle Keith gave thanks for the food. We began to eat and there was a definite awkwardness in the conversation. I began to wish that I had not come.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Aunt Vera nudge Uncle Keith and raise her eyebrows. Uncle Keith grimaced and nodded. He tried to sound casual as he spoke, "So Bill… what do you think of your daughter's success this past year?"

I tried not to wince, but it was hard to keep my expression neutral. All eyes were on my father. He slowly finished the mouthful that he was eating and then set his knife and fork down. He regarded Uncle Keith thoughtfully and in a measured tone said, "I presume you are referring to my daughter, Claire, being made a partner in her firm. Yes, I am very proud of my daughter indeed."

I looked down and wished that the ground would open up and swallow me. Uncle Keith tried to redirect my father, "Err Bill, I wasn't talking about Claire…"

Claire interrupted with frustration evident in her voice, "Oh for heaven's sake Dad, would you just wise up and stop pretending that Nicola isn't here!"

"Don't talk to me like that, young lady," he said sternly. I could see Claire bristling and readying herself for another go at him.

I stood up and set my napkin down on the table. "That's enough," I said quietly, but everyone heard and focussed their attention on me. "I'm not going to be the cause of everyone fighting here." I looked at my father and with my voice shaking I said, "Dad, I love you and I miss you." For the first time he was looking straight at me and I went on, "As much as I love you, I'm not prepared to sit here and have you ignore me at best and belittle who I am at worst. Perhaps I was wrong to come here today, but all I wanted was to be with my family. I'm going to leave now and the rest of you can do what you want. I'm not going to be involved in any more attempts at 'setting you up' as you called it. If you want to talk to me, Claire will tell you where you can find me." I looked at him pointedly, but he just looked away after a moment.

I knew I had to get out of the room immediately before I broke down in front of them. I ran upstairs and grabbed my case and the presents I had been given. I was met by Claire and Aunt Vera at the bottom of the stairs.

"Don't go, dear," Aunt Vera said gently.

"Yes, please stay, Nicola," Claire urged.

I shook my head. "I can't… I can't deal with it. It's too much." I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and that was just the start of it. "I have to go right now."

Aunt Vera reluctantly opened the door for me and as I put my things into my car she called to me, "Nicola, anytime you want to come — you're welcome here."

"Thanks, Aunt Vera," I said in a choked voice, "Thanks for everything and I'm sorry things didn't work out as planned."

"Where are you going?" Claire asked with concern.

"Home," I said softly, "I'm going home."
 

*          *          *

 
On the long drive I experienced a wide range of emotions. The first was mostly sorrow and self-pity as I cried my way across South Wales. It was just as well that the roads were practically empty as at times the tears flowing from my eyes significantly impaired my vision. Although I had been sceptical about how my father would react, I realised that deep down inside I had been hoping that he would be pleased to see me. I had hoped that we would be able to put our differences aside and begin to mend the relationship that I been missing so much. However, the reality of the disappointment was a crushing blow to my hope. Someone once said that if you lost hope, you lost everything. I could understand that.

Somewhere on the M4 south of Bristol, my sorrow turned into anger. I felt angry that my father thought he could just cut me out of his life, like removing an irritating wart or something. I was angry with myself for caring so much about what he thought of me. I was angry at the world for being such a messed up place. It was irrational, I know, but try telling anger that. As the rage boiled within me, I floored the accelerator and tried to burn out my fury with speed. It was cathartic and all going very well until I heard a siren and saw a blue flashing light in my rear-view mirror. Suddenly the anger left me and was replaced with another unpleasant emotion: fear.

As I pulled over onto the hard shoulder and stopped my car, I realised that I was in big trouble. Not only had I been driving significantly over the speed limit, but when I thought about it I was fairly sure that I would be over the legal limit for alcohol given the four glasses of wine I had consumed earlier. I sat there cursing myself for my stupidity and waited for the officer to walk up to my car.

He tapped on the window and I lowered it. "Could you please step out of the car, ma'am?"

I smiled weakly and nodded as I did what he requested. He was middle-aged and had a somewhat bored appearance.

"Have you any idea what speed you were doing, ma'am?"

I smiled and shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure, officer, but I guess it was over the speed limit."

He nodded. "Look, I'm not in the business of really wanting to pull people over on Christmas Day, but you were travelling at eighty-five miles per hour, which is fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit."

I bit my lip and winced. "I'm really sorry, officer." I was sure he was going to suggest an alcohol breath test.

He looked at me and frowned. "Have you been crying? Are you alright?"

No doubt my eyes were red and puffy. I smiled ruefully and nodded. "Yes, I know it's Christmas, but our family gathering wasn't exactly peace and goodwill."

For the first time he smiled. "I know how that is." He seemed to relax a little and I noticed him actually taking in the rest of my appearance. He shrugged. "To be honest, I volunteered to work today, but don't tell my wife that. I just can't stand her mother."

I laughed despite the terrible situation. I noticed him looking at me closely and dreaded that he was wondering if I had been drinking. "Err… what is it?" I asked cautiously.

He inclined his head. "You just look awfully familiar." He chewed his lip and then his eyebrows shot up. "Wait a minute! I know who you are."

I managed a tentative smile. "You do?"

"You're Cara Malone, aren't you?"

I grinned semi-apologetically. "Yes, I am."

He shook his head and smiled. "I thought you looked familiar. I suppose I should have worked it out earlier."

I saw my chance and smothering my shame, I went for it. I gave him a full smile and slowly pulled my shoulders back, which emphasised the outline of my breasts. Speaking with exaggerated shyness, I said, "What are you going to do, officer?"

He looked pensive for a moment and then shrugged and smiled. "Aww hell, it's Christmas, isn't it? Look, I'll let you off with a stern caution. I shouldn't really, but to tell you the truth, I can't be bothered with the paperwork." He winked conspiratorially and said in a quieter voice, "Plus I'm also quite a fan of yours."

I laughed softly and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, officer. I know you don't have to do this, but I really appreciate it."

He gave a goofy sort of grin and then regained his composure. He cleared his throat and, business-like once more, said, "Make sure you slow down, though, the roads may be quiet, but that doesn't excuse driving at speed."

I tried to look suitably chastised and I nodded solemnly. "I promise I'll slow down. Thanks again and…" I smiled a wide smile, "…Merry Christmas."

I saw him look at my legs as I swung them back into my car. He chuckled and said, "It sure beats seeing the mother-in-law."

As I drove off, I exhaled slowly. For the rest of the tedious journey, I made sure that I kept within the speed limit. The wallowing self-pity and the fiery anger had gone. In their place was a hollow tiredness.
 

*          *          *

 
It was early evening when I finally arrived home. The house was dark, cold and empty. I turned the heat up and switched on most of the lights. I slumped down onto the sofa in the den and sat there staring at the wall.

"Humbug," I muttered to myself.

I was so tired, yet I felt certain that I wouldn't be able to sleep. I just wanted to switch off and float into a blissful unconsciousness where I would be shielded from the hurt and pain that was gnawing away at me like a dull ache inside. I wandered upstairs and into my bathroom. I opened the bathroom cabinet and looked at the sleeping tablets that Dr. Carson had prescribed for me. After a long pause, I took the bottle and went to sit at my dressing table. I opened the bottle and poured the contents onto the table in front of me. The bottle had been half full. I sat and stared at the tablets. I longed to numb myself from the emotional distress that was dogging me. I reached out my hand towards the tablets, intending to pick up a handful, but my hand shook so much that I quickly withdrew it. I realised that sweat had broken out on my forehead.

"I can't do this cold," I muttered.

I went downstairs and looked at my wine rack. "Shit," I murmured when I remembered that, between my party and my 'nightcaps' the subsequent evenings, I had exhausted my meagre wine collection. I opened the fridge, but there was only a solitary can of beer remaining from the party. I still didn't like beer and closed the fridge with frustration. Although, it was Christmas Day, there had to be a store open somewhere. I know that I was being driven by an irrational desire, but I didn't really stop to think. I grabbed my bag and keys and headed out.
 

*          *          *

 
I drove around aimlessly in my unsuccessful quest to find an open off-licence store. I headed towards the city centre figuring that I would have a better chance of finding one there. Eventually, in the Fitzrovia area, I spotted a dingy-looking store with its lights on. I went in and looked around. Initially I thought of picking up a few bottles of wine, but then changed my mind. I decided to go for something stronger and remembered that I had found vodka and cola reasonably palatable. I grabbed a bottle of cola and joined the queue. The vodka bottles were kept behind the counter. I had a baseball cap pulled down as low as it would go and hoped that no one would recognise me.

"Nicola?" a voice asked from behind. "Is that you?"

I stiffened at the words. Had I been recognised? I thought about it quickly: if someone had casually recognised me, they would have called me Cara. It must be someone that I knew. I slowly turned and saw a black face with a large wide grin on it.

"Dang, it is you, I knew it."

"Sam?" I asked uncertainly.

"The one and only!"

It was Sam the kitchen assistant from 'Trin's Dins'. I smiled. "Wow, what are you doing here? Nice outfit by the way." He was wearing surgical scrubs under his overcoat.

He laughed. "I just got off work. I'm doing my house officer year in the Middlesex Hospital just round the corner."

"They let you be a doctor?" I asked as I winked.

He chuckled and then frowned. "Yeah and then they made me go and work Christmas Day… until now."

A face peeked around from behind him and nudged him in the ribs. Sam turned and laughed. "Oh, Nicola, I almost forgot, this is my little sister, Jessie. She's a huge fan of yours and never believed it when I told her that I used to work with you."

She nudged him again in the ribs. "Sam," she protested, "You're making me sound like a stupid little girlie fan." She didn't look like a little girl and I estimated that she was in her late teens.

He grinned. "Sure that's what you are. I mean you've got all Nicola's… or rather Cara's singles, and all those posters."

"Sam," I said with a smile, "Stop teasing her so." I turned to her and held out my hand, "Pleased to meet you, Jessie."

She took my hand and as she shook it, her eyes goggled. I laughed. "Jessie, I'm really just an ordinary person."

Sam nodded. "See that's what I told her. 'Jessie,' I said, 'That Nicola's a down-to-earth lovely girl.'" He grinned. "Dang, I could hardly believe it was you when I saw your first single released. I always knew there was something different about you."

I grinned and shrugged. "Sure, and you were playing the down-trodden kitchen boy when here you are now — the big shot doctor."

He rolled his eyes. "If you saw the menial tasks I had to do… I'm no big shot." He grinned and winked. "But maybe some day…" He furrowed his brow. "Say, what are you doing here, Nicola?"

I looked down at the bottle of cola in my hand and was immensely grateful that I had not yet managed to get my hands on the bottle of vodka. I shrugged, smiled and held up a bottle of cola. "Ran out of something to drink."

He nodded. "Why aren't you home with your family or something?"

We had stepped out of the queue as we talked. I winced and looked away. "The family gathering didn't go too well."

"If you don't mind me prying, can I ask what you are going to do now?"

I grinned ruefully and replied, "I was going to go home and drink my bottle of cola."

"Alone?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded and blinked a few times in quick succession, feeling uncomfortable.

"No way," he said firmly.

"I beg your pardon?"

He grinned. "Jessie and I are heading home to have our Christmas dinner, and you're coming too. She's been waiting all day for me to finish work."

"What about your Mum, Sam? Don't I remember you telling me about how you could never bring home 'no white girl'?"

His expression clouded and he smiled sadly. "Momma passed away a few months ago." He paused and then, by way of explanation, added, "Cancer."

I bit my lip. "Gosh, I'm so sorry Sam. I had no idea… I didn't mean to…"

He shrugged. "You weren't to know." He sighed. "Didn't I read earlier this year that you lost your Mum too?"

I nodded. "Yes," I replied softly.

The three of us stood there together. We were relative strangers, yet in that moment, we were bound together by a shared pain, a shared knowledge. We didn't have to speak about it; we just knew what the others were feeling.

"Stinks, doesn't it?" Sam said softly.

"It does," I agreed sadly.

He shook himself and forced a smile. "Right, come on, I may be a doctor, but I haven't forgotten all my old tricks from the kitchen. It may only be a turkey joint fresh from the freezer, but there's plenty enough for three."

I smiled and shrugged awkwardly. "Sam, I don't want to intrude."

"Intrude? What you talking about, girl?" He turned to Jessie, "Do you mind if Nicola here joins us?"

Her eyes widened so much that I almost expected her eyeballs to land on the floor. "Hell, no," she said with something approaching awe.

Sam laughed. "That's settled then. Do you want to follow us to our lovely apartment?"

I grinned. "Do I have a choice?"

"None whatsoever!"

"OK then." I grinned. "I've got the drinks, though," I said as I held up my bottle of cola.
 

*          *          *

 
I followed them back to their place. It was a little two-bedroom apartment in the Lambeth area, just south of the river. I'd been in worse areas, but had been in much better ones too. The apartment was clean and well looked after. Sam, true to his word, was still no slouch in the culinary department and we enjoyed a delicious meal. The company was good and we laughed 'til we cried about the time we had spent working together in the restaurant. Sam had a natural free sense of humour that was irrepressible. He said that he had laughed and laughed when he heard to whom 'You Make My Skin Crawl' was dedicated. He still kept in touch with some of the kitchen staff and apparently, they had stuck an inlay card from my album on the wall and had highlighted the song.

At the end of the evening I yawned. "I should be getting home."

Sam looked at me sideways. "Going back to an empty house?"

I nodded and smiled. "'Fraid so."

He nodded and shrewdly remarked, "You're not that fussed about that, are you?"

I laughed and waved a hand. "Not particularly, but beggars can't be choosers."

He frowned. "Nicola, girl, don't say that."

I shrugged. "I was only kidding, really."

He thought for a moment and then nodded. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Sam, I couldn't. You've been more than kind already. I couldn't impose on you…"

He interrupted. "Tell me the truth: would you rather go back to your empty house on Christmas Day or would you rather stay here. If you'd rather go home, I'm not going to pressure you into staying."

I sighed and thought about it. When I thought about my house, I pictured the tablets that I had strewn across my dressing table and I shuddered. I smiled and said softly, "I guess it might be nice not to be alone." I winked, "But don't get any funny ideas, buster. I'm not planning anything that our mothers would have disapproved of."

He roared with laughter and clicked his fingers with mock-frustration. "Dang, and there was Sam thinking he'd been working a slick move." He got serious again. "You know I wasn't thinking anything like that."

I nodded. "I know." Then I smiled coyly and said, "So you don't think I'm attractive then?"

He chuckled. "Women! Can't win no matter what you do."

A thought struck me. "Have you room for me to stay here?"

"Well… there are two beds in Jessie's room, but you can have my room and I'll either bunk in with her or sleep on the couch."

"There's no need for that, Sam. I'm happy to bunk in with Jessie…" I looked over at her, "That is if you don't mind, Jessie?"

She laughed. "I don't mind at all. This evening has been so surreal for me." She paused and frowned, "Can you give me a minute though to remove your posters from the wall?"

I laughed, "Don't bother; I'll try not to look at them."


 

To Be Continued...
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She could offer

Angharad's picture

to autograph the posters.

Angharad