‘Well, that’s good then, isn’t it? You’re in the mindset.’ She laughs. ‘So just enjoy it. Enjoy the contrast…’
‘The contrast?’ he repeats.
‘From what it’s like up here,’ she clarifies, ‘to what it’s likethere.Walk down Regent’s Street and look at the decorations, everything all lit up and wonderful. Go down to Trafalgar Square and look at the enormous Christmas tree. Get yourself a drink in a nice bar and take yourself off to the Natural History Museum and go ice skating?—’
‘Oh, I don’t think so?—’
‘And then, if you’re feeling energetic, walk all the way back along Piccadilly, and go into the Rivoli Bar at The Ritz?—’
‘The Ritz?’ he splutters. ‘I can’t go there!’
‘Why not?’
She senses him trying to scrabble together a reason. ‘Well, my clothes for one thing?—’
‘You don’t have to wear a suit,’ she teases. ‘You have a nice shirt and trousers with you, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but?—’
‘—so go in and order one champagne cocktail?—’
‘But isn’t that?—’
‘It’s a fortune, yes. And that’s the point. Have more than one if you feel like it. Get yourself sozzled on champagne cocktails, and then come back to your airport hotel and fall into drunken slumber. And then, when you wake up tomorrow with a fuzzy hangover…’ She catches herself. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve just spouted a whole load of instructions at you, haven’t I?’
‘Yes, you have.’ He sounds bemused now, and a little stunned. ‘So, if I do all that – if I follow your instructions – then what do I do next?’
He’s teasing, she realises. Pretending he can’t operate without her telling him what to do. ‘Oh, that’s easy,’ she says with a smile. ‘When you’ve done all of that and had a brilliant day exploring London on your own…’ Shelley hesitates. ‘Thenyou can come home.’
27
As Joel steps out of the Tube station and starts to walk home, he tries to make sense of his sleepover at Carmel’s.
It went okay, in the end. All right, so she could have dredged up a tad more excitement over the gold bracelet, which he’d taken ages choosing in a cool little designer jeweller’s in Soho. For all the gratitude she showed he might as well have grabbed her a bangle at Camden Market. And she’d had nothing to give him in return. But Joel isn’t a child – even though he might act like one when out Christmas shopping with his wife. And he wasn’t going to throw a tantrum over the lack of gift.
What Carmelhadgiven him was a thorough going over in the confines of her bedroom like nothing he’d experienced before. It was as if the very existence of this other man had added a whole new dimension. Jealousy, humiliation, even rage; it was all swirling inside him and he wanted her so much. He wanted her more than this other nameless man could ever want her, and although he’s not one to brag, he reckons he gave her the performance of his life last night. And she was mad for it, flipping him around and throwing him about and biting himlike he was a fucking sandwich. Utterly spent, he’d finally fallen asleep at around 5.30a.m.
As Joel turns into his street, he reflects that Carmel could have been a bitnicerto him this morning. He wasn’t expecting a favourable performance review, or even a ‘good boy’ sticker – but she might have been a bit keener to hang out together. He’d looked forward to a leisurely breakfast – pastries, eggs, her excellent coffee – and hopefully some more sex. But that was not forthcoming. She had to ‘get on’, she explained. She was busy-busy-busy! He wasn’t even offered toast. But the worst of it was that she asked if he’d mind having his shower at home, rather than at hers, as she needed to head out right away.
Head out where? To see her other man? Feeling grubby and a bit smelly, out he was flung into the cold December morning. He feels a littleused, frankly. Shattered too. Once he’s showered and made himself respectable, he might slip off to bed for a nap.
Towards him now comes a person dancing along in a Christmas tree outfit, her spherical head poking out of the top of it. She’s a vision in green fake fur and tinsel, and he knows for certain that she is going to try to interact with him.Keep walking. Don’t look at her.‘Morning, Scrooge! Cheer up, love!’ she bellows, stopping to rattle a charity tin in his face.
‘Sorry, no cash,’ he mutters, trying to avoid eye contact.
The woman seems to peer at him in an odd way. ‘Ooh,naughty.’ Her eyebrows – one red, one green, how very festive – shoot up. ‘Someone’s been having a fun time!’ Instinctively he touches his head, trying to flatten down his hair as he hurries onwards, keen to get away from her as she’s obviously mad.
His house is in view now and Joel exhales in relief. But his relief dissipates quickly as now he thinks… No, no. He must be mistaken. It’ll just be a reflection or a trick of the light. The living room windowcan’tbe broken. Joel quickens his pace, his chest tightening as he approaches his home and registers that his firstassumption was correct. The Victorian sash window is definitely not as he left it yesterday. There’s a bloody great crack in it. And the Christmas tree which stood at the window, decorated by Shelley with her grandma’s precious baubles, has gone.
Burglars, is Joel’s first panicked thought. Burglars have stolen our tree!
A sickening feeling surges up in him as he swings in through the gate and up the short path. He opens the front door and steps into the hallway and for a moment he cannot move or speak or do anything at all.
Joel stands there, mouth agape. Then: ‘Martha? Fin?’ he bellows. ‘Come hereright now!’
On this cold, bright, snow-dusted Sunday morning, Pearl believes that she is actually in the most beautiful place on earth. It’s so still and quiet, and after the hectic activities of yesterday and today’s breakfast, she is relishing the solitude.
Her heart sinks a little when Niall appears in the distance, rucksack on his back, clearly setting out on a hike. She wanted to sit here alone on this rock at the lochside, taking in the calm, still water, blue as the sky, and the white-topped mountains in the distance. But now he’s striding towards her, and he stops as they exchange pleasantries. ‘Nice spot you’ve found here,’ he remarks.
