Another Day in Winter Page 8

  ‘Thank you for the address,’ she said again, thinking how heart-breaking it must be to leave friends behind. Mrs McNair and Flora had lived next door to each other for decades, and yet, here they were, keeping in touch by sending Christmas cards.

  ‘I’ll walk you out,’ Carla said as Shauna and Lula went to leave.

  Shauna had a sudden thought and stopped.

  ‘Mrs McNair, you mentioned Flora and Annie’s brother, George. Did you ever meet him?’

  Mrs McNair’s jaw clenched in what looked like fury, and it was a few moments before she answered.

  ‘I did not. And let me tell you, I always wished I did, because I would have given that terrible man a piece of my mind. What he did to Flora was unforgivable. Unforgivable!’ Agitation made her voice rise with the last word and Shauna decided that asking more wasn’t an option, though the vehemence in Mrs McNair’s voice made her desperate to know what George had done. Was that why Annie never mentioned her family?

  ‘I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to upset you. Thank you again, Mrs McNair. Have a lovely Christmas.’

  ‘You too, dear,’ she replied, her voice calmer again. ‘It was lovely to meet you. I’m sure Flora will be thrilled to see you.’

  After hearing the lady’s verdict on George, Shauna wasn’t so sure.

  Another letter came to the forefront of Shauna’s mind, one from George to Annie, and Shauna remembered every word.

  Dear Annie,

  It gave me no pleasure, but I did as you asked. I told him. I hazard by now you will have heard that it did not draw the response that was hoped. I fear Flora will never forgive me and I’m destined to lose two sisters.

  Your brother,

  George

  As far as Shauna could tell, George’s fears of losing both sisters had been realised.

  Address in hand, they headed back out into the crisp, cold afternoon and towards John’s taxi, which was sitting parked and waiting as requested.

  ‘Well, she’s a feisty one,’ Lulu said. ‘Add a couple of mojitos and a Best of the Nineties soundtrack, and she’s me in forty years’ time.’

  ‘Promise me you’ll never do that to me,’ Shauna blurted out.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Leave me in a home and just send me Christmas cards.’

  ‘I’d never do that,’ Lulu replied, consoling Shauna until she added, ‘I’d at least break you out once a week to take you to the bingo.’

  Shauna rolled her eyes. ‘It’s sad, though, isn’t it…?’

  ‘What is? That looked like a lovely place and Mrs McNair was clearly well cared for.’

  ‘I know, but it’s just…’

  ‘Oh, arse, you’re coming over all sentimental again,’ Lulu groaned.

  ‘I’m not. I’ve just got a tad more emotional depth than you – which wouldn’t be difficult, because you’re shallower than that cocktail we had at lunch.’

  ‘I’m aware of my failings and fully embrace them,’ Lulu said, chuckling. ‘So tell me what’s sad then.’

  ‘The whole situation with Annie, Flora and George. Annie was never close to my parents, and she had tons of friends, but in terms of family, she only had me. At least, that’s what she told me. All that time she could have had a brother and sister in her life, but some ancient rift tore them apart. They missed out on a whole lifetime of caring for each other.’

  Lulu nodded thoughtfully. ‘You could be right, but, Shauna, you know as well as I do that there are some people who you really are better off without, even if they’re family.’

  That was true. Shauna and Lulu had bonded as children over the fact that their parents were completely self-obsessed and treated their daughters as trifling inconveniences.

  Their conversation was brought to a halt by John, who had stepped out of the cab.

  ‘At your service, ladies,’ he said, with a mock bow. ‘Where are we off to now?’

  Shauna gave him the address and he whistled.

  ‘Newton Mearns. Very posh. Your aunt must be doing all right for herself.’

  ‘How long will it take to get there?’ Lulu asked.

  ‘About twenty minutes.’

  Shauna had spent a lifetime not knowing the truth about Annie’s background. It was both nerve wracking and thrilling to know that in less than an hour she could have the answers.

  Ten

  Chrissie

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Val asked, as soon as they were seated in the restaurant. ‘I thought you were going to keel over back there on the escalator.’

  Josie lifted the carafe of water in the centre of the table and poured some water into the glass in front of her. ‘Are you pregnant? I was forever fainting when I was up the duff with our Michael and Avril.’

  ‘Josie, I haven’t had sex since 2006. It would be a miracle.’

  ‘Well, this is the time of year for an immaculate conception,’ Josie joked, making Chrissie feel so much better in the space of seconds.

  But still, she couldn’t shake the image from her mind.

  Was it him?

  She wasn’t going to tell Josie and Val because she knew exactly what they’d do – they’d spend the next hour commando-crawling through every restaurant searching for him and that was the last thing she wanted. Not long after they’d met, Chrissie had given in to their curiosity and told them the basics – that Ben’s father was her childhood sweetheart, but he had left before he knew she was pregnant and cut off all contact. She knew their first instinct would be to confront him and make him face his responsibilities.

  Besides, it couldn’t have been him. He was long gone, and probably decorating a tree right now with his wife and three kids. Damn, that thought stung.

  ‘I don’t think I can go tonight.’ It was out of her mouth before she even knew she’d said it. In fact, she was only sure the words had come out because Val and Josie had both stopped, mid-chuckle, and they were staring at her.

  ‘Why, love?’ Val asked, the furrow between her eyes, underneath her platinum blonde fringe, deepening.

  ‘I just think… I’m not ready.’ In truth, she would never be ready, because she’d never forget the pain of the last time she’d loved. And lost.

  Josie leaned forward and placed her hand over Chrissie’s. The younger woman braced herself for dark humour and a large dose of cajoling, but surprisingly, neither came.

  ‘Look, ma darling, whatever you decide to do is fine with us. I know we’re nudging you along with this, but if you don’t want to do it, we’ll go and grab a couple of bottles of wine and have a wee night in with the girls. But think about it. You deserve this. At your age, you should be out and about, meeting people and having a bit of love in your life because you’re pretty bloody brilliant. Ben’s getting older, and he’s less reliant on you, so it’s time to have a bit of fun, not be staying in with two pensioners.’

  ‘Although we are pretty fabulous pensioners,’ Val interjected.

  Josie ignored her, but paused for a second as she spotted Chrissie’s reaction. ‘Oh, Jesus, there’s tears. Val, give me one of those napkins, pronto.’

  Chrissie took it gratefully and dabbed at her eyes.

  ‘I thought I saw him,’ she said, feeling a sudden need to explain after all.

  ‘Who?’ Val asked, confused.

  ‘The last guy… my ex… Ben’s dad. Tom,’ she answered, the words choking her.

  ‘Oh, dear God! When?’ Val again.

  ‘When I was on the escalator. I looked over and I thought I saw him on the stairs.’

  As predicted, Josie immediately went into ninja mode. ‘Let’s go and find him then. Come on. Let’s see what he’s got to say for himself, the cowardly b—’

  ‘Josie, no. It wasn’t him. There’s no way it could be. But it just… rattled me. And it’s making me think… what’s the point? Why put myself through that again? Ben and I are great. We’re happy. We’re on our feet. We’ve got you lot…’

  ‘That’s the best bit,’ Josie interjected, ear
ning a slap on the shoulder from Val.

  Chrissie went on. ‘We don’t need anything else. We’re good.’ Chrissie knew that was the truth. She didn’t need a man to complete her happiness. However, there was no denying that seeing someone who looked so like Tom had shaken her.

  Val sighed as she took her large glass of vodka and cranberry from the waitress. ‘You’re right, Chrissie,’ she said. ‘You absolutely are. You’ve made a great life for you and the boy and we’re all delighted to be part of it, but, love, you need some happiness for yourself too. I know that Ben’s dad hurt you…’

  ‘He really did,’ Chrissie said, her voice just above a whisper. She’d only ever told Val the bare minimum, unwilling to dredge up the past or look back on the most painful time of her life. She’d been with someone she loved beyond words and he’d left her. That was it. In fact, he’d gone as far away as it was possible to go. That was all anyone needed to know. That whole chapter of her life was locked in a steel box and placed in the vault of her mind, never to be opened for fear of massive pain and regret.

  Val nodded, then went on, ‘But that doesn’t mean you should go through life and not give anyone else a chance. For all you know, this guy you’re meeting tonight could be the loveliest, sweetest, most caring man, and it could be the start of something great for both you and Ben.’

  ‘Or just an almighty shag that will make you happy for a couple of hours,’ Josie added.

  ‘In the name of God, Josie, will you put something in your mouth to stop words coming out,’ Val blurted.

  Josie pursed her lips, unrepentant. However, the hilarity of the two women bickering made Chrissie’s shoulders slide down from “high tension” to “slightly stressed”.

  ‘Okay,’ Chrissie said, exhaling. ‘I hear you. I know I need to get some courage and do this.’

  ‘You’ve got more courage than anyone I know, pet,’ Josie said, being unusually serious. ‘So don’t diminish what you’ve done or who you are. You’re protecting yourself and Ben and that takes strength. We just don’t want you to miss out on some joy along the way.’ Chrissie felt yet another lump form in her throat at Josie’s words until she added, ‘Or some great sex.’

  ‘Damn, Josie, you were doing well there right up until the end,’ Val chuckled, echoing Chrissie’s thoughts. ‘She’s right though. And we’ll be here to support you if this date does go wrong tonight and the guy is a total knob.’

  Josie nodded. ‘And by “support you”, we mean kidnap him and tie electric probes to his nipples until he says sorry.’

  ‘Nothing to lose then, really,’ Chrissie shrugged. She loved this, loved these women, even more so because they gave her the kind of support that her own mother never had.

  Okay, she had it together again. She was going on this date. It was going to be fine and if it wasn’t, well that was okay, too. It was time to move on. Take a few chances. Wasn’t it?

  The waitress took their order and left a basket of bread in the middle of the table.

  ‘So, tell us about this guy you’re meeting tonight then,’ Val asked, picking up a piece of ciabatta and dipping it in the olive oil on the plate next to the basket.

  ‘His name is Davie and I went to school with him,’ Chrissie said. ‘Actually, I didn’t know him that well there, but I remember him because half of my pals had a crush on him, so they’d drag me to watch him playing football at lunchtime. I think I also kissed him under mistletoe at the third year Christmas disco. That’s about it. I didn’t see him again after he left, then he contacted me about a week after I put that Facebook page up a couple of months ago. I only joined because Ben will be thirteen in a few months and he’ll be old enough to sign up. All of his school pals are already on there. I just wanted to make sure I knew what it was all about.’

  ‘Just be careful,’ Val warned. ‘I’ve heard criminals search those sites for information about folk.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Miss Marple, I put absolutely nothing personal on it.’ That was true, but not for the reasons Val mentioned. She didn’t put anything personal on there because a long time ago she’d cut ties with everyone she knew and she didn’t want them, or anyone else, finding out anything about her life, about the choices she’d made, about where she was now.

  She still found it bizarre that Davie had tracked her down. The only group she’d joined on Facebook was for former pupils of her school, and only because she couldn’t help an insatiable urge to check if Tom was there. He wasn’t. But a couple of days later Davie had got in touch.

  ‘So what does he do now, this Davie?’ Val asked.

  ‘Marketing. Started up his own company. He’s got an office in the city centre. They do advertising and press campaigns for loads of different companies. Seems to be doing really well for himself.’

  ‘Good looking? That’s important. Never marry an ugly man,’ Josie said with solemn sincerity.

  Val was outraged. ‘Josie! You can’t say that!’

  ‘It’s true!’ Josie argued. ‘Because at least when you realise you’re stuck for life, he’s still good to look at.’

  ‘Your values are despicable,’ Val sighed.

  ‘They are,’ Josie agreed, but Chrissie got the impression she took that as a compliment.

  ‘I’m not marrying him, Josie, I’m meeting him for dinner. But yes, he’s good looking.’ She pulled out her iPhone and loaded his Facebook page. It was work oriented, with no personal details, more of an advert for the campaigns his company had worked on, but his profile picture was at the top.

  ‘Yup, if I was forty years younger I’d shag him,’ Josie whistled, just as a startled waitress put down a large pizza and three plates on their table.

  ‘Again, I’m meeting him for dinner, not shagging him,’ Chrissie objected. It had taken twelve years to contemplate sharing a meal with a guy. There was every chance it would take another twelve years to get round to actually having sex with someone new.

  Josie shook her head. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to the younger generation. Wasn’t like that in my day.’ Josie had been married and widowed once, two decades ago, and had never married again, but she made no secret of the fact that she’d enjoyed many romances over the years. And still did.

  Chrissie was still laughing as she glanced around the centre, at the restaurants over on the opposite balconies, at the shops up on the higher floors. Was he here? For a long time after he left, she would search for his face in crowds, knowing that he wouldn’t be there but unable to stop herself.

  No. She shook the thought away, berating herself for even thinking that way. He was off living another life in another world. And even if he wasn’t, she didn’t want him back. He’d burned that bridge and then torched the ashes just to make sure there was no going back.

  They settled into idle chit-chat about their plans for Christmas (dinner at Val’s house with the whole extended family) and New Year (party at Josie’s house with everyone they’d ever known), until the waitress cleared their plates.

  ‘I’d better be getting back to the shop now. Thank you for this. I’ve loved it,’ Chrissie said gratefully.

  ‘Ah, we’re not done yet, lovely,’ Val said. ‘Come on, let’s head to the next destination.’

  Chrissie was about to question her, but then stopped, deciding this was a riptide situation and the best thing to do was float until she had a clear path to the shore.

  The three of them linked arms as they walked to the escalator, gazed around in wonder at the decor as they descended to the ground floor, then joined the crowds heading for the row of gilt-edged doors.

  Chrissie looked ahead as she pulled her collar up and scrunched her ancient but beloved red beret on to her head, ready for the assault of the cold as they stepped outside.

  She had no idea what made her look back, but she turned her head, caught sight of the glass elevator descending on the other side of the centre and saw…

  It was him again. The man she’d seen earlier.

  Their eyes locke
d and she thought she saw a flare of recognition, one that was cut short when the woman who was with him stepped forward and kissed him.

  She had two choices. One: go over there, find out if it was really him. After all, the last time she’d seen him was twelve years ago. He probably looked completely different now.

  Or two: go on with her life, and accept that the teenager who had loved and left her when she was eighteen, who’d ignored her calls, left her letters unanswered, left her without a backward glance, was someone who well and truly belonged in her past.

  Chrissie kept on walking, hearing that vault door slam shut once again.

  Eleven

  Tom

  Princess Square was packed with Christmas shoppers and office workers bunking off early on the last day of work before Christmas. Last year Tom had brought his grandad here and they’d sat on the outside patio of one of the courtyard level restaurants, underneath sparkling ice white snowflakes and galaxies of lights. The centrepiece of the atrium was a stunning cone shaped tree that soared from the lower ground floor to the third floor, visible to all on the layers of balconies that swirled around it. Tom and George had sat, soaking up the festive atmosphere while enjoying lunch and a pint. He’d had no idea that was the last Christmas they’d do that.

  ‘What are you thinking, darling? You look so serious,’ Zoe commented as they climbed the stairs. There were people jostling both upwards and downwards, so he instinctively put a protective hand on her back. They’d been dating now for a couple of months and on the rare occasions they’d actually managed to snatch a night together they’d had a good time. He’d been happy to see how it developed. He’d thought that perhaps he was ready. He knew now that he wasn’t. The thought of Chrissie had changed that.

  They were seated at a corner table in the restaurant on the top floor of the centre. It was one of their favourite spots. Zoe didn’t like to sit out at the balcony tables – said it was too noisy and busy and she preferred the more intimate setting inside. Tom was always happy to go along with it. He realised with a jolt that he’d been doing exactly that since the start of this relationship – just going along with it. Another jolt, this time one of self-reproach. Zoe was everything most guys could want. She was smart and had one of the most incisive business minds he’d ever encountered. As head of sales, she was largely responsible for bringing on new clients and she’d exceeded every target over the last year. She was fun, she could hold her own in any company, she was gorgeous, she was… He could hear himself repeating all the things he’d first told himself when he started seeing her. It was a checklist of attributes. He’d never done that with Chrissie. Never had to. Maybe it was because they’d been so young, but he hadn’t needed to list her qualities in his head, he’d just known he wanted to be with her every waking moment.