Carole Singer's Christmas (29 page)

‘Well, we weren’t thrilled, cherub, but if it had made you happy, really happy I mean, we would have welcomed him with open arms.’

‘Humph! You speak for yourself,’ Mitsy said.

‘Does this mean ... you’re staying with Dominic?’ Jamie asked.

Carole shook her head. ‘It wouldn’t be fair. I love him but ... Actually, I do love Sebastian too, but I’ve only just realised – about ten minutes ago, in fact – that when you’re in love, and I mean
really
in love, you know it. Right down to the tips of your toes and into the very centre of your core, your soul if you like. And you know that even if you don’t end up with the one you really love, you certainly don’t want to be with anyone else, just for the sake of it. Oh well, I suppose I’d better go and tell Sebastian the news.’

***

She knew Sebastian wasn’t happy but although Carole hated to see him hurt even more, bearing in mind the situation with his parents, she couldn’t let him continue to believe they would have a future together.

He tried to persuade her of course; tried to make her change her mind; reminded her yet again of how good they were in bed together.

‘But that won’t mean much when we’re eighty and riddled with arthritis,’ she said, ‘as someone once pointed out to me. This is about the future, Sebastian. Yes, we were good together in the past. But it is exactly that – the past. Because of the way it ended, the way you left, I think I held on to some foolish romantic notion of a lost love. And some part of me didn’t want to let you go. When I saw you again in the village, that part of me took over and I didn’t really question it properly.’

‘Because it was your heart telling you that you love me!’

‘No. It was my hurt pride telling me I had to get you back. It was my doubts about the present and my fear of the future. But now I don’t have those doubts or fears. I know exactly what I want and even if I don’t get it, I know I’ll be okay. I have a family who love me and friends who care about me. And one day, if I’m very lucky, I’ll be with someone I truly love and who loves me as much as I love him.’

‘I love you!’

‘Do you Sebastian? Perhaps you do. I don’t know. And I’m really sorry but this isn’t about you. It’s about me. It’s about what I want. What I really want. I wish you all the luck and love in the world. But I can’t give it to you. I’m sorry.’

‘Could ... could we just have sex, just once, for old time’s sake?’

Carole almost laughed. ‘No, Sebastian, we couldn’t. And now I’ve got to go. I’ve got a train to catch.’

‘But it’s nine o’clock on Sunday night!’

‘I know it is.’ She smiled fondly as she kissed him goodbye. ‘But there’s no time like the present.’

***

Carole knew Mrs Smith wasn’t best pleased either, when she arrived home at eleven o’clock on Sunday evening.

‘I was just going to bed!’ Mrs Smith said, standing in the kitchen as Carole let herself in.

‘Hello and goodnight then,’ Carole replied. ‘I’ve come to see Dominic, so there’s no need for you to stay up.’

If looks could kill, Carole knew she would have been dead on the floor with several knives in her chest. In fact, she thought, after she’d told Dominic what she had to say, she possibly would be. She was fairly positive though that Dominic’s mum would welcome the news far more than Dom would.

‘Carole! Is that you, babe?’ Dom called out from the sitting room.

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling sweetly at his mother before going into the sitting room and shutting the door behind her.

Dom was sprawled across the sofa watching some football match on TV but to Carole’s amazement, he switched it off and sat bolt upright. He didn’t have many spots and he didn’t look unwell but Carole knew that chickenpox often felt worse than it looked.

‘What a lovely surprise!’ he said.

‘It may not be. How are you feeling?’

His brows furrowed. ‘I’m okay. What does that mean?’

‘It means we need to talk.’

‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that.’

Carole sat on the armchair opposite him and smiled weakly. ‘There’s no easy way to say this Dom, so I’ll just say it and I’m sorry for being so blunt and for the timing, but it’s best that you know now.’

‘If this is about me not being romantic,’ he said, ‘I can be romantic.’

She had no idea where that had come from. She shook her head.

‘It isn’t. Well not exactly. It’s about us. I don’t see us having a future together, Dom. I’m truly sorry but I don’t.’

He seemed to let the words sink in before he said, ‘Why not? What’s happened since you’ve been at your gran’s to make you change your mind? We were fine before you left.’

‘Were we? Were we really? Can you honestly say that you saw us spending our lives together? I’ll admit, before I went to Gran’s I wanted nothing more than for you to propose but part of that was me being an idiot about my name.’

‘I can propose. I was going to propose this weekend in fact and then this happened. I’ll do it now. Let’s get married, Carole. I know your gran doesn’t like me but we can work around that and I know Mum thinks I can do better but she’ll come round. We’ve got a good home and a pleasant life. We should get married.’

‘As lovely as that sounds, Dom, no we shouldn’t. I want more than a good home and a pleasant life. I want passion and togetherness. I want a family and a husband who’ll be there bringing up our children beside me.’

‘I want those things too. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about sex since you’ve been gone, and I want kids.’

‘Sex and passion are two different things, Dom, at least in the way I mean them. As for you wanting kids, I’m sure that’s true but you’d be at the office all day and possibly half the night and I’d be here at home waiting for you.’

‘What’s wrong with that? We could work something out.’

‘This isn’t a negotiation, Dom. And we couldn’t. I’m sorry but this just isn’t what I want and I don’t think it’s really what you want either if you’re completely honest with yourself.’

He let out a long, meaningful sigh. ‘And there’s nothing I can say or do to make you change your mind?’

She shook her head again. ‘No, Dom. I’m sorry.’

‘Well ... I assume you’re going to stay the night anyway. It’s too late to get a train back now. Let’s sleep on it and see how we feel in the morning. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll feel differently ... and the spot on my dick has gone already!’

Carole gasped. Why was it, she wondered, that everyone wanted to have sex with her except Nick?

‘Oh!’ she said, ‘I’m ... glad to hear that, but no, I won’t be staying the night. I called a friend who lives nearby and I’m spending the night there. I’ll come back tomorrow and sort out my things if that’s okay with you or I can leave it until you’re fully recovered. Let me know which you’d prefer.’

‘There’s no rush. Leave it until after Christmas.’

‘It’s got to be done, Dom. We both need to get on with our futures.’

***

Carole stayed in London for two days before returning to Jutsdown. She needed the time to sort things out, to visit clients, to get her finances in order and to think things through, away from the village and its distractions. Away from Nick.

She had a lot to do if her plans were going to succeed, and she really wanted them to. The moment she had stepped inside her old family home with Jacob Marley on Sunday morning, she’d felt it. She knew that whatever else happened, one thing was certain. She had to buy that house.

She had some savings, which would cover the deposit. The house was a real bargain and although it needed work, it was mainly with regard to updating the interior; the house itself was structurally sound and in fairly good repair.

Her business was thriving and she had several years’ worth of certified accounts so getting a mortgage wouldn’t be a problem, the bank assured her. She was sure it would all work out. She just had a really good feeling about it. After all, it was only a week until Christmas – a time when miracles happened.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

‘I can’t believe Christmas Day is only one week away, can you?’ Josie asked when she and Carole arrived at rehearsals on Wednesday.

‘No,’ Carole replied. ‘I’ve hardly done any Christmas shopping. Do you fancy going to Brighton for the day on Saturday?’

Josie pulled a face. ‘Well ... we could I suppose.’

‘Don’t sound so enthusiastic! Oh, of course. I’d forgotten you and Aidan are inseparable. Fine. I’ll go on my own.’

‘Aren’t you helping out at the garden centre on Saturday anyway? It’s the weekend before Christmas and the place will be heaving.’

‘Well, it’ll have to ‘heave’ without me. I won’t be setting foot in that place again until hell freezes over. I’ve already told Gran, and Jamie has very kindly offered to continue to stand in for me.’

‘So you haven’t seen Nick since the two of you attempted to bring your delightful romance cover to life?’

‘Very amusing, Josie.’ Carole made a fake grin. ‘I’m trying very hard to forget that.’

‘What? The fact that you drew the exact likeness of you and Nick locked in a passionate embrace without even realising you’d done it, or the fact that you were locked in a passionate embrace ... and still didn’t do
it
.’

‘You’ve missed your vocation. You should be on the stage.’

‘Which is exactly where I shall be ... in three minutes’ time. Are you working on the scenery tonight?’

‘Yeah. I heard Bert Threadgold telling Gran that Nick wasn’t coming tonight, so I figured it was safe. I’ll finish the rest during the day, tomorrow and Friday and that’s me done. I won’t have to be here again until the big night.’

‘You can’t avoid him forever you know, Carole. Besides, from what you told me about it, once he knows the competition’s out of the running, he’ll be happy to ... resume discussions, shall we say.’

‘No, I think he just used that as an excuse.’

‘Why? What makes you say that?’

‘Various things. The way he looks at me sometimes, as if I make him really cross or something. The way he lectured me. The way he tried to avoid kissing me under the mistletoe, but most importantly, the fact that he didn’t come after me on Sunday night.’

‘But ... he was the one who kissed you on Sunday. He made the first move. He said he wanted you but he didn’t want to be in the queue of boyfriends or some such thing. Now there’s no queue. Now you’re on your own.’

‘Precisely. If he was really interested in me he’d have told me on Sunday and asked me to dump the others and be with him. He didn’t. And now that I’m free, he still hasn’t. The entire village must know about Sebastian by now, and Gran must have told him about Dom. He hasn’t called or been near. No. It was just one of those spur of the moment things and he regretted it afterwards. In fact, he regretted it during! That’s the real reason he stopped.’

‘Perhaps,’ Josie said. ‘Or perhaps he was just giving you some space on Sunday. Maybe he didn’t want to add to your confusion. Or maybe he was frightened you’d add him to your list and then reject him later. And there’s a chance he hasn’t heard you’re ... now open to offers, a slim one I’ll admit but a chance. And anyway, you’ve only been back for one day. I think you should go and talk to him, at the very least.’

‘Maybe next year,’ Carole replied, heading off to continue working on the scene for
The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

***

There was no way Carole was going to talk to Nick, no matter what Josie said and whether by chance or by design, they didn’t see one another until the Saturday evening. Even then it took the considerable efforts of Mitsy, Sarah and Jamie working together to pull off a meeting and they only managed that with Matilda’s help.

‘Run these mince pies over to Matilda would you, cherub?’ Sarah asked. ‘I promised her I’d drop them in earlier and it slipped my mind completely.’

It was another bitterly cold night and Carole wanted nothing more than to stay where she was, curled up in front of a roaring fire with Arkenarten purring on her lap, but she moved the cat, much to his obvious displeasure, put on her coat and grabbed the Christmassy tin.

‘Fine,’ she said, ‘but if she asks me again whether I’ve got a boyfriend yet, I’ll hit her with this tin.’

Carole had been back for four days and whilst it was clear that everyone and his dog, cat and parrot knew she was now a single woman, nearing thirty-five – and therefore probably on the shelf – Nick still hadn’t been near her or called her or even sent her a note. She was beginning to realise that she had been right about him and he had no intention of being in her future, romantically or otherwise, it seemed.

‘Oh hello dear,’ Matilda said, beaming with Christmas joy. ‘Have you–’

‘No! I haven’t got a boyfriend yet,’ Carole interrupted, ‘and frankly I don’t think I want one.’

‘Oh! Well, that’s a shame, dear,’ Matilda said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the hall, ‘but I wanted to ask you whether you’ve got a few minutes to spare. I would like your opinion on something. Thank you dear, you’re such a sweet girl. One day, you’ll make some lucky young man very happy, I’m sure of that. We’re in here.’

Before Carole could say a word, Matilda pulled her into the sitting room, closed the door behind her and stood with her back pressed firmly against it, blocking Carole’s exit.

Carole’s mouth fell open in surprise. Her shock was matched by Nick’s who was standing in the centre of Matilda’s sitting room. He was dressed as Santa.

‘Well dear,’ Matilda said, ‘what do you think?’

Carole was furious and then she remembered her comment about boyfriends, which Nick must have heard and she blushed crimson.

‘About what?’ she managed to say after several seconds.

‘About Nick! Do you think he’d make a suitable substitute Santa? Justin Jarvis has said that he can’t perform this year so we’re a Santa short.’

Carole slowly surveyed a scowling Nick. The trousers were far too tight and about four inches too short, revealing the top of Nick’s boots, two bands of sock and about an inch and a half of two firm calves. The jacket tugged across his broad shoulders and strained across his chest. The only items that did fit were the hat and the beard. She just couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing.