A Hope Christmas Love Story (5 page)

“Only, I’m not ready to become an auntie yet,” continues Izzy, joshing me.

“I’m an –” begins Paige, before I dig her in the ribs and she shuts up.

“Nah, just looking at Christmas presents for our baby cousin,” I lie.

“Oh, is this her?” Izzy says, “she’s cute.”

“Yes,” I lie. “This is my sister, Paige. Paige, this is Izzy, Will’s sister.”

Paige’s eyes grow round as saucers, but before she can put her foot in it, I say, “Really sorry, Izzy, we’re on a tight deadline. I’ll have to dash. Tell Will I’ll text him.” And then I flee from the shop, heart pounding, with Paige following behind looking bemused. We go and catch up with Mum, and I feel lousy. But I don’t know how to get out of the mess I’m in.

***

“Will?” Izzy comes into find me cooking tea.

I’m making a bolognese recipe Melanie showed me. I’m glad she did. She’s right, home cooking is so much better than living off takeaways. I wish she were here now, so I could show off. But she’s working this weekend. She works a lot of weekends. If she weren’t so attentive in the week, I might be worried. And if Izzy didn’t keep me so busy, I’d go and track her down at home. All I know is she lives in a small town called Hope Christmas, just south of here. I wish she’d invite me over. The feeling that she is keeping something important from me is growing, and filling me with unease.

I’m glad Izzy’s back. She has a tendency to go out and stay out all hours, with all sorts of undesirables. She knows it winds me up, but she is in such a mess at times I don’t feel I can blame her. It’s why I stay sober most weekends. I’m often trawling the streets of Shrewsbury trying to find her.

“I saw Melanie today,” she says.

“Oh?” I say surprised. “Where?”

“Shrewsbury. Shopping.”

I feel a little bit hurt that she hasn’t told me she was coming. My heart sinks like a stone. Why didn’t she ask to meet me if she’s been in Shrewsbury?

“She was with her sister,” Izzy continues. Oh, she’s out with her family. The family she’s never keen for me to meet. “She says she’ll text you.”

Sure enough, I check my phone and there’s a message saying, “Soz I didn’t have time to call. Last minute family shopping trip. Working now. Talk later?”

I put my phone away, the unease diminishing. And then Izzy says, “It was odd though. It was like she didn’t want to see me. And I don’t know. She was acting really
guilty
.”

My heart plummets like a stone.

I meet Will in cafe on Monday morning in our free, and he seems a bit edgy. I’m edgy too. I feel like I’ve been caught out by meeting Izzy, and am wondering whether it’s time to come clean. I can’t keep lying to him much longer. While we’ve been snapchatting as normal all weekend, I feel that Will is a little distant. Izzy was bound to have noticed how odd I was on Saturday, and Will’s not stupid. I know he’s guessed I’m hiding something from him. But how will he react when I tell him what it is?

We sit toying with our coffee cups for what seems like an age. This is so weird. Normally we have loads to talk about. Just as I’m about to say something, anything, to get over this awkward silence, Will suddenly chips in.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in Shrewsbury on Saturday?”

“I’m sorry,” I gabble. “It was a last minute thing. I didn’t think.”

“Who are you ashamed of,” he says bitterly, “me or them?”

Ouch.

I lean over tentatively and reach for his hand.

“Neither, I say, It’s just I don’t know, Will there’s –”

This is the moment I should tell him the truth, but then a baby belonging to a teenage mum starts bawling and Will looks on in disgust.

“They really shouldn’t have babies that young, if they can’t control them,” and I shrivel inside.

“That was always the problem with Mum and Dad,” says Will, “they had me too young and ended up staying together. It was a disaster from the start. I don’t get how people can be so stupid. Haven’t they heard of contraception?”

I flinch. There is no way I can tell him about Lou Lou now.

“What were you going to say?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I says, “It’s, my family can be a bit overwhelming, and I want to keep you to myself for the time being. I thought I’d spare you the hassle of endless inquisitions. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He smiles and my world lights up again as he laces my fingers through his.

“Sorry, I was probably being paranoid,” he says.

“There’s no need to be paranoid,” I say, feeling guiltier than ever. “I just want to keep you to myself.”

That bit as least true. But as we leave the I and head back to college hand in hand, I feel like a total cow. Why do I keep lying to Will? But after that reaction, how can I ever tell him the truth?

***

I feel an utter dick. I more or less accused Melanie of avoiding me on Saturday. The trouble is I’ve been feeling so paranoid and anxious. Having parents who don’t give a toss about you tends to have that effect on your self esteem. Added to which Melanie is special. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. She’s kind and thoughtful unlike other girls I’ve known. My last girlfriend, Debbie, ditched me when I really needed her last winter. I’ve had enough hurt and betrayal to last me a lifetime. No wonder I think the worst of Melanie. Izzy tells me I was being stupid and she’s right. I need to start learning to trust people again.

We’re heading back to college, when we meet up with a bunch of girls from our English class. One of them, Jenna, breaks away and says, “Hey you two. We’re having a bit of a pre Christmas gath at my house in a couple of weeks. Fancy coming?”

I look at Melanie. Will this be another weekend where she blows me out. Surely her mum and dad can’t expect her to babysit every weekend? She’s got to have some kind of life. Or maybe she’s got to work again. I get the impression money is tight. I guess it’s part of being a big family. But I’d trade all the money I have for some of her security any day.

“I don’t know,” she begins, but then looks at me and probably sees that pathetic look in my eye, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Great,” I say, enclosing my hand in hers, “that’s just great.”

Two weeks later, and I’m nervous as hell. I know I’ve been to a party with Will before, but this feels like a proper date. And we’ve both recieved our first offers from uni, so we have something to celebrate. Warwick have offered him 2As and a B, and I need 3 AsWill’s asked me round to his first, and said I can crash on the sofa again. I’m still not sure how far I want to take things with Will, but I’m glad he’s giving me space.

I tell Mum I’m staying with one of the girls. I’m not sure she believes me, because she gives me a knowing look as I go out of the door. But I don’t want to tell her about it yet. I’m still so unsure of how I feel, and what I’m doing. All I know for certain is that I don’t want to make the same mistake as last time. So slow and steady is how I want to play it.

To make matters worse, Lou Lou has an enormous tantrum as I leave, and Mum has to practically prise her off me.

“Don’t want you to go, Mummy, Don’t want you to go!” she screams. I feel worse than ever. Has she got some kind of two year old insight into my guilt?

“She’ll be fine,” Mum counsels, “You used to do this to me all the time. Just go.”

So I leave, and when I get to Will’s, Izzy answers the door. She looks great, apparently heading for a party of her own. Until Will comes down and says “You’re not going out wearing that are you?” and they have a row about the height of her skirt, till I tell him that Paige who is two years younger wears stuff like that all the time.

“To borrow a phrase,” I say laughing, “I think you should chill a bit.”

“Yeah, Will,” says Izzy, “you should chill.”

Will has the grace to look a bit embarrassed.

“I know you think I’m over the top with Izzy,” he says on the way to the party, “But you have no idea what it’s like being responsible for your little sister. I feel like her parent half the time, and I know I get it wrong.”

Oh I think I do, I think silently, as I recall the strop Lou Lou had as I left the house tonight. I know exactly how you feel.

But of course I don’t say it, because tonight is all about pretending. Tonight I’m an ordinary eighteen year old on a date with her gorgeous new boyfriend. I have no history, no baggage. Tonight, I think as we walk to the party and snow starts to fall, I’m going to pretend I’ve wiped the slate clean. Tonight I’m going to grab some magic and keep it to myself. Tomorrow is back to reality. Tonight is all about us.

***

Melanie seems like a different person this evening. She’s sparkling and vivacious in a way I haven’t seen before. She looks absolutely stunning in a slim pink dress and high heels. Her hair is curled and she’s wearing make up.

When we get to the party, she’s chatting with everyone and even having a drink, which is something I’ve rarely seen her do. She seems lighter somehow, more relaxed. If I thought I’d fallen for her before, this new Melanie is taking it to another level. She dances with her friends in such a carefree manner. And she even gets me up on the dance floor, even though dancing isn’t my thing.

By the end of the evening, I’ve had a few beers too many, and I’m standing swaying in the kitchen, watching her still dancing, the life and soul of the party. She comes dancing towards me and throws her arms around my neck and kisses me in front of everyone.

Well, I say everyone. There aren’t many still standing, and those that are involved in smooches of their own.

“Come on, gorgeous,” she says, “come and dance.”

So I dance with her again, watching her sway in time to the music, totally swept up in the moment. It’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her and I’m totally whipped. How can this gorgeous girl be with me?

“Shall we go?” she says, and gives me a look. Shit, she’s really drunk. I want to very much, but I can’t, not like this. If it’s going to happen, I don’t want it to be like this.

We step over the dead bodies, and head for the door. The snow which had started as we arrived, is falling very heavily now.

“Oh this is magic!” says Melanie in delight, and runs down the road, with her arms held wide facing up to the sky, catching snowflakes on her tongue.

I watch her framed in the streetlight and feel my heart explode. I don’t care if nothing happens tonight or ever. I don’t want this moment ever to end.

Stupid, stupid. How can I have been so stupid? I suddenly felt tired and suggested we go back home. Back to Will’s house. He’s a bloke, there’s no other way to interpret that than the obvious.

I’m grateful for the snow. It’s a distraction, and I’m so cold I’m sobering up fast. We run through it like children till we get to his house. I’m freezing by then. I’m not exactly dressed for the weather. Will fixes me a hot chocolate, a warm fleece, a pair of Izzy’s joggers and some thick socks as my tights are drenched.

We stand by the window sipping our hot chocolate staring as the snow falls on the patio.

“We should make snow angels,” I say suddenly, and drag him outside.

It’s cold and quiet – that soft muffled quiet that only snow can make – with a bright moon. We giggle together on the ground, as we lie down making snow angels. Something I haven’t done since I was very young. It makes me feel carefree and lighthearted in a way I haven’t felt forever. Then Will insists on having a snow ball fight and we’re romping round the garden, hysterically till we’re wet and cold all over, and we collapse back in the snow because we’re so wet it doesn’t matter.

Then Will leans into kiss me. And despite the cold and the wet, I feel like I’m on fire. It was never like this with Andy. Never. I’m falling deeper than I ever intended. And I’m not sure I want to get out.

***

I lie content in Melanie’s arms, and then roll on my back and look up at the moon and the snow, and feel like the luckiest guy alive. Melanie is being more affectionate than she’s ever been. I think we’ve turned a corner.

For fun I take a stick and write Will
Melanie in the snow. She hits me and says, “Don’t be daft,” but she looks pleased.

Then Izzy comes into the garden steaming drunk, and ruins the moment. She’s so drunk she needs help going to bed. By the time I come back downstairs, Melanie is crashed on the sofa. I go and lean against her, and sit staring into the fire. Before I know it, I’m asleep.

When I wake up she’s gone. There’s a note saying she had to dash. But on the driveway she’s written, Melanie
Will on the driveway.