Mason
“So,” Ava said after she thanked the waitress and waited for her to move away. “We still haven’t discussed Etta.”
After everything that had happened over the last couple of weeks, Etta had completely slipped my mind.
The beef melted in my mouth and the price tag of over a hundred quid per head to dine at the two Michelin-star restaurant turned out to be a little more palatable. It was our anniversary weekend, and I was pulling out all the stops to try and salvage my marriage, so I swallowed down the expense along with my steak and ridiculously priced wine. What was more pleasurable, was how beautiful my woman looked in the figure-hugging pale green dress with her hair tumbling about her shoulders and the carefree smile on her striking face. That was utterly priceless.
I was still unsure how I felt about the whole Danny thing. When Ava had told me about the kiss they shared, the white mist had descended. I’d thought at one point I was going to strangle her and then hunt Danny down in my own reproduction of a Hitchcock movie. Yet, incredibly, the emotion that had coursed through me may have saved our relationship, and as crazy as that was, I couldn’t deny the fact that jealousy had, in actual fact, been an aphrodisiac.
“Hmm. I received information that Etta is shacked up with Jason Fordham.”
Ava’s eyebrows shot high. “Seriously?” The news wasn’t enough to put her off her duck, but she did look a little troubled. “So, where does that leave us?”
“It’s going to be harder to get at her, that’s for sure. Jason plays with the big boys now, and we don’t have the back-up behind us any longer.”
Placing her cutlery down, she sat back and sipped her wine. “Any guards assigned to her?”
A hint of the old excitement flashed in Ava’s eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. The business had always come easy to Ava, the violence and the planning taken for each job, sometimes a little too much. She loved the thrill of it, and to see her appetite come back to life again sparked a niggle in the back of mind.
“Not that I know of, but then Jason isn’t one for being careless with his possessions.”
Scowling at me, she tutted. “She’s not a Ming vase, Mason!”
“Neither are you, but you’re still mine.”
Her glare softened, and she smiled. “I rather like being yours.”
“It’s a good job because I’m not ready to flog you on eBay quite yet. And besides, exchange rates are shit and I wouldn’t get my money’s worth. The only idiot who would put up with you would have to be a foreigner who enjoyed being smacked around and didn’t understand a word of English.”
“I love you too!”
Winking at her when she kicked my shin under the table, I pointed at her plate with my fork. “Eat up, baby. I’m not paying a ton for a doggy bag that Harry will shit out in the morning.”
Pausing with her fork in the middle of her ‘summer vegetable medley, dressed with a delicate oil. Hand prepared with the finest wild garlic and the season’s freshest herbs and topped with a sprinkling of French salt and pepper croutons and shavings of mature Italian cheese,’ - in Layman’s terms, a Caesar salad - Ava narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re such a romantic, baby. Mr Darcy has some serious competition.”
“Who?”
Sighing, she shook her head and stabbed at more of her salad. “The Amazon delivery man.”
“Oh, right. Didn’t know you were on first name terms with him.” Thinking about it, though, I changed my mind. “Although, you do order enough to get him on the family barbeque guest list.”
Despite the fact our glasses were still nearly full, the maître d' did her usual round, topping everyone up, so they drained the bottle quicker and ordered more. At fifty quid a chuck, I wasn’t surprised they pushed more down your neck.
She lingered a tad longer at our table than any other, and when she started fussing over whether our bucket had enough ice in, Ava sat back and pursed her lips. “If you can guess how many cubes of ice are in there, does your manager give you a Christmas bonus?”
“I’m sorry, madam?”
“Perhaps, you’d like to enact the fantasy in your mind and show my husband exactly what you’re picturing doing with that ice.”
Apparently, my wife could read minds now. The maître d' blushed and shook her head wildly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to your meal.”
“What the hell was that?” I asked when she slinked away like a chastised four-year-old.
Ava rolled her eyes and stabbed her knife into the duck breast practically whimpering on her plate. “Mason, I love you, but sometimes you have no idea.”
“No idea about what?”
“Let’s just say, for every top up the other diners have had, we’ve had three.”
I shrugged, not grasping what she was saying, and decided to leave her to her strange ramblings and turn back to the point at hand. “Anyway, my guy found out Etta and Jason are living in Manchester, where Jason seems to have the monopoly on the organised crime.”
Frowning, she reared back a little. “Then what the hell was Etta doing in Kirkingham?”
“Clueless too, baby.”
“Well I know one thing, the fact that she’s living with this year’s biggest tosser doesn’t give me too much concern. We can handle them both.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “We can, but I’m not so sure about his crew as well. Don’t forget there’s just the two of us now, Ava. No matter how tooled up we are, two soldiers can’t wipe out an entire army.”
“Then we’ll have to find a tank. Anyhow, I’m not looking to take them out. I just want my grandson.”
“And Etta is just going to hand him over, is she?”
She shrugged. “Maybe if we write to Santa, he can pop him in our stockings.”
She had finally lost her marbles! “You’re being ridiculous, Ava! There’s no way you’ve made the nice list!”
♡
Christmas rolled up way too fast. Although we hadn’t had sex again, our relationship had found its equilibrium again. We weren’t arguing, and we’d made the most of our time and finished off the farmhouse. It was now homely and inviting, and it was ours. But Christmas was playing on Ava’s mind. She didn’t mention it, but I could see it in her eyes. She missed our family and friends. We’d always spent Christmases together, and this year, for the first time, it would just be Ava and me. I’d asked her if she wanted to spend it at the cottage in Scotland, but she’d declined. I think it would have made it harder, and I agreed with her that we should spend our first Christmas alone in the place we could make many fresh memories.
I woke on Christmas Eve to find the first snowfall of the winter had wrapped the farm in a seasonal blindfold. It wasn’t thick, but the light covering got me in the Christmas spirit. When Ava walked into the kitchen a short while later, bleary-eyed and fumbling for the coffee pot, she stopped short when she spotted the pile of pancakes, dripping with golden syrup readily waiting for her on the table. Christmas tunes were playing on the stereo, and I pulled Ava into my arms.
“Good morning, my little warrior. Merry Christmas.”
She looked at me cautiously. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. I’m just in a good mood.”
Smiling, she dropped a tender kiss on my lips and settled herself at the table. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
I served her coffee – Yes, I’d mastered the Tardis! – and a few pancakes and then, hesitantly, I handed her the envelope. “I was going to wait until tomorrow morning, but…”
Frowning, she tentatively took it from me and spun it in her fingers. “What is it?”
“Open it, and you’ll find out.”
Nerves made my gut bubble when she slowly slipped her finger under the lip and tugged it open. As she pulled the photograph out, her expression changed from uncertainty to surprise, and then as the tears slipped over her eyes, she gasped. “Oh, my God.” Bringing her fingers to her lips, she giggled. “He’s so like George.”
I nodded, feeling her pain and excitement as my own. “Isn’t he! I’ve nicknamed him George Junior because he looks so much like his dad.”
Grinning, she wiped at the tear that fell. “George Junior.” She gently touched the image of our grandson and then grumbled when one of her teardrops fell onto his face. “He has your eyes, Mason.”
“I know, and unfortunately for him, my nose.”
“Where did you get this?”
Giving her a quick wink, I leaned over to catch another peek of Georgie Junior. “Etta sent it to Frank’s email. My tech guy intercepted it.”
She laughed, sniffing loudly. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she whispered to the replica of her baby boy. “We love you.”
“I can see Becca in him, too,” I said, the image of my beautiful grand-daughter making my chest clench with pain. As the days counted by, the more and more I saw of the devastation George had left behind. It was hard to see when all you could focus on was the grief of losing a child; the overwhelming pain that engulfs you, makes every day pass in a blur. But, when the pain starts to lose its edge and the whole of the picture comes back into focus, you start to see the important things that you’d missed while living in your dream world. Time was greedy, and it had started to eat up the make-believe that had taken over.
The sound of the distraught sob that tore from Ava brought me out of my head. “I miss them so much, Mason. My babies. I would give every gift I’ve ever received at Christmas just to see Katie’s pretty face again, to see her smile. The way she wiggles her nose when she gets angry, and the way her tongue pokes out when she’s concentrating.”
“I know, baby.”
I wrapped her up in my arms like she was my own Christmas present, hugging her to me as she cried tears long overdue. The sound of her so upset had me making a spur of the moment decision. A decision that changed the course of our future.