Chapter Twenty-Two
December 2016
As the days and weeks passed since the night at the hotel, Lydia mentioned nothing about what she knew. Not to Sally, not to Connor and definitely not to Anita. She’d left London that day so exhausted but with the sense that maybe this was the start of the stage where she had to take charge of her life to stop it from going completely off course. She’d even lied to Anita, who called a few weeks later. She told her she’d slipped in the shower at home, broken her wrist badly and wouldn’t be able to visit for a quite a while. It bought her time to process, and after the revelations that night, she knew she needed to put herself first. Anita had accepted the explanation without question and Lydia had wondered whether she’d gone back to thinking it was best for Lydia to keep her distance anyway, that she’d take it from here. Anita was also all caught up with Theo’s move to the rehab facility and no doubt busy making sure the staff there would be doing their jobs properly, and that Theo would finally get the care he’d needed since the accident. Anita had delivered a barrage of information at the start of the month, texting periodic updates, details of the tests Theo was going through, the neuroimaging or something or other Lydia had never heard of. But lately the texts seemed to have dried up, and reading between the lines, Lydia knew there was no change in his condition.
At work one day in early December, just after she’d made a hot chocolate out in the kitchen area and brought it back to her desk, Ian asked whether everything was okay. If he’d asked her that straight after London she’d probably have burst into tears, but not now. She felt numb.
‘Yep. Everything’s fine.’ She dismissed his concerns as she scrolled through unread emails and sipped the hot chocolate. ‘Do you need me for something?’
‘I’ve got a proposition for you.’
‘Sounds intriguing.’
‘What are you up to in January?’
‘No plans, why?’
‘How about an all-expenses-paid trip? All in the name of research of course.’
Oh please, please say somewhere hot and exotic, a real getaway. ‘Keep going. I’m listening.’
It turned out they had an article due in mid-February and Sarah was supposed to be dealing with it but her husband had just scored a new job in Ireland, she’d found out she was already six weeks pregnant, and she wanted to hand in her notice. Ian explained the assignment which would take her to a European ski resort, but Lydia felt she had to be honest.
‘You know I don’t ski, right? I mean I have, but I’m not that into it.’
‘Nonsense. You’re young, fit, I’ve even heard you dance.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Rod over there gets out of breath going up and down the stairs, he’d be a hopeless choice.’
Lydia grinned. Rod was a lovely guy but had the laziness gene that meant his only exercise was walking from the car to the office, and not much else. But he’d travelled a lot in his thirties and had heaps of contacts and was the go-to person with new ideas and queries.
‘Dancing is a little bit different to skiing.’ Lydia’s forehead creased. She wanted the assignment in some ways, but in others, she’d rather be sitting in front of a cosy warm fire. ‘Although my skiing could pretty much be described as a type of dance, or even acrobatics given the amount of time I spend tumbling.’
‘I don’t have anyone else to step in, Lydia, and you’re one of my best writers.’ He kept his voice low and she couldn’t help but be flattered at the praise. ‘The piece is a little bit different anyway. This is an all-encompassing feature and it’s as much about the après-ski and alternative activities as it is the skiing.’
‘Doesn’t that defeat the point of featuring a ski resort?’
‘This will target a wider audience. I have it on good authority – my wife – who tells me lots of her friends on Facebook have partners and kids who are desperate to ski, so they’re dragged along and hate every second. Those people need to know that they can still go on a winter family holiday and have a good time.’
Lydia perked up. ‘So I can research anything I like?’
‘Exactly. I want restaurants and bars, shopping, spas, sights and landmarks, tours.’
It was sounding better by the second.
‘So can I count you in?’
‘And where would I be flying to exactly?’
‘Andorra.’
She’d never been. She let him sweat it out a bit and then said, ‘I’m in.’
It was the escape she’d needed for a very long time.
*
‘You jammy cow!’ Sally pulled into the Christmas tree yard. ‘First a night at The Shard, now a trip to Andorra.’
Lydia unclipped her seatbelt. Sally still didn’t know about Theo and for now she wouldn’t. ‘And I don’t have to do too much skiing either.’
Sally locked the car and they made their way inside the shed to pick out a tree. They were buying one each today and they’d easily fit into the pickup truck Sally had borrowed from a mate of Gerry’s. ‘How’d you manage that?’
Lydia explained all about the slightly different angle her boss wanted to take with this piece.
‘Your boss is amazing. Hands down, the best boss ever.’
‘He’s not bad.’
‘And how’s Connor?’
‘He’s good, we had lunch today. He went on a blind date last night but apparently it was a disaster.’
‘He’s gorgeous, I don’t know why you don’t just go there already.’
‘Sally!’ Lydia giggled. She didn’t know either but somehow along the way they’d fallen into a friendship that was welcome and comfortable. ‘How about this one?’ She leaned in to smell the pine needles and ignored the pang of nostalgia of Christmases past.
‘How tall is it?’
Lydia stood next to the tree and going by her height they deduced it must be a touch under six foot. Sally asked the man nearby if they had another around the same height, as it seemed to be surrounded by much taller trees, and when he’d found one the girls were happy with, they paid, Sally bought a new set of white twinkly lights and they loaded up the pickup.
They stopped at Lydia’s house first and both girls managed to finally get the tree into its stand and relatively straight.
‘Gerry can do mine,’ Sally giggled. ‘I’m not doing another tree this year!’
‘Thanks, I couldn’t have done it on my own.’ Lydia filled up the tree stand with water.
‘Are you going to decorate it tonight?’
‘Maybe tomorrow. I’m dancing tonight so I’ll be knackered after that.’
‘You’ve been dancing a lot lately. Don’t get me wrong,’ she added when she saw Lydia’s face, ‘it’s great, but I just wish I could see a bit more of you.’
‘I promise you will.’ She felt guilty she hadn’t confided in her best friend but saying it all out loud would make it so real.
‘And you’re still coming to us on Christmas day?’
‘If you’ll have me,’ Lydia replied. ‘My sister’s all loved-up with a new man and invited me but at least you and Gerry have got through the honeymoon period and I won’t have to put up with you kissing the faces off one another.’
‘That’s true. We’re in boring domestic bliss now. Very dull.’ A look passed between them and when Sally said goodbye, Lydia left the tree and changed into her dance gear.
*
‘Hey you, how’s it going?’ She answered Connor’s call as she left the dance studio and attempted to shrug on her coat while she walked.
‘Either you’re walking,’ he said, ‘or I’ve disturbed something a lot more untoward.’
‘Very funny. Yes, I’m walking. I’ve just been dancing and I was hot when I left but it’s actually freezing out here.’
‘I know, I’m not far away as it happens. Just had a couple of beers with a mate and was wondering if you felt like some company.’
Lydia cut up the back street and followed the curve of the Royal Crescent with Georgian houses arranged in the same shape, opposite a lawn that afforded views of the park when it was daylight, and now views of the lit up outskirts beyond. ‘Where are you?’
He laughed and then Lydia realised she could hear it on her handset but also behind her. ‘You’re stalking me!’
‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ He kissed her cheek and they stopped for a while, marvelling at the Christmas tree standing tall and proud on the lawn and bedecked with what must be hundreds of white lights.
‘My tree isn’t quite as big as that.’ Her breath came out in white puffs against the cold air.
‘You’ve got your tree?’
‘I picked it up today.’
‘I’m impressed, you’re way more organised than I am. I’m not sure I’ll bother.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘I can just come and look at this one whenever I want, I’m only round the corner.’
She looked at the tree. ‘It’s beautiful but it’s not quite the same as decorating your own with all the ornaments you’ve collected over the years, the smell filling your living room, seeing it every morning before work, flicking on the lights when you come home.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’ He grinned. ‘So have you started decorating yours?’
‘You’re kidding, aren’t you? It was enough trying to manoeuvre it into the stand and get it upright. No, I’ll have to do it tomorrow.’
‘Can I make a suggestion? You know, seeing as you’re so into Christmas and everything.’
‘Go on.’
‘How about I come and help you decorate it?’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘We could do that…or we could do it now?’
‘On one condition,’ she said.
‘What’s that?’
‘We stop at the off-licence and get some wine, make a night of it.’
‘That sounds perfect.’
*
Music blared from the Sonos system Theo had had installed last summer. Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas played as Lydia and Connor sang at the tops of their voices. There was a trail of lights along the floor and Connor had checked all the bulbs worked before they both looped them around the tree, zig-zagging between branches until it was evenly covered.
‘What’s next?’ he asked, pausing his singing.
‘Baubles next.’ She had a certain order for things: lights, then baubles, then individual ornaments and lastly the angel at the top: the pièce de résistance.
Connor followed instructions, occasionally paused to sip his wine, and by the time they’d finished they both collapsed back against the sofa to check out their work.
‘I’d say it’s a job very well done.’ Connor raised his glass.
‘It’s perfect,’ Lydia agreed, chinking her glass against his. ‘Now only one more thing to do.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Sweep up all those pine needles.’
‘I’m a guest, I couldn’t possibly.’
Lydia reluctantly went and found the dustpan and brush and turned the music down a bit. The playlist had moved on to classic Christmas carols and while beautiful, playing them at a low volume was much nicer. She swept beneath the tree and to the sides while Connor slumped on the sofa and pointed out any bits she’d missed.
‘Any more from you,’ she said, pointing the brush at him, ‘and you’ll be cleaning up yourself if you want any more wine.’
When the home telephone rang Lydia was still beneath the tree, reaching far to the back to get the last of the needles and she caught her hair on a branch as she tried to reverse out, because the woman leaving a message on the answer machine wasn’t someone she wanted to talk to, and the words she was saying weren’t exactly what she wanted anyone else to hear.
‘So I’ve spoken to Grace, and with your arm being broken,’ Anita continued, ‘she’s said she’ll drive down to pick you up. Then you wouldn’t have to negotiate a train with a suitcase, which I agree would be very hard. Grace could come early Christmas Eve, drive you up here and you’d spend Christmas with us. I know Theo would love to see you and of course we would too. So anyway, call me back. And I hope the arm isn’t giving you too much grief.’
The answer machine clicked off and Lydia couldn’t look at Connor.
‘Care to tell me what that was all about?’
‘Not really.’ She sloped off into the kitchen and after emptying the contents, shoved the dustpan and brush beneath the sink and grabbed the second bottle of red and a corkscrew.
Connor stood up when she went back into the lounge and took the wine. They’d managed to pick one with a cork, not a screw top, and he could see Lydia was struggling.
She let him do the honours and glugged down at least half of her glass of wine. ‘Don’t,’ she told him. ‘Just don’t say anything.’
‘I think you know me well enough to know that’s not going to happen. What’s going on? Why does Theo’s mum think you’ve broken your arm?’ He picked up her hand that wasn’t holding her wine glass and pretended to inspect it. ‘Looks fine to me.’ He leaned over her. ‘And unless I’m mistaken, so does that one.’
‘I didn’t want to go up there, that’s all.’
‘And why not?’
‘Please, don’t make me tell you.’
‘Clearly you’ve got something you’re keeping from everyone else. I know you well enough to see that. Why don’t you want to see Theo’s family? Or is it Theo you don’t want to see? He couldn’t possibly have done anything, he’s not in any state to. Sorry, bad joke.’
‘No, you’re right. And it is a complete joke. The bastard is lying there unable to talk, eat, walk or do much at all, and yet he’s still been the biggest arse of a boyfriend.’
‘How?’
She put down her wine and rested her head in her hands. ‘He cheated on me! And I was too blind to see it. He was sleeping with a woman he worked with. It’s so clichéd, it’s embarrassing. All those times he’d been working late he’d been with her.’
‘How did you find out?’
She poured out the whole sorry story to Connor, leaving nothing out at all. She didn’t cry, she’d done enough of that for a lifetime. But she let her anger seep out, a blatant contrast to the joy in the room with the tree and its twinkly lights. And she made her way through enough red wine to supply an entire dinner party.
‘So what do you want for Christmas this year, Connor?’ She was slurring her words an hour later and ready to talk about anything but Theo.
‘I think we’d better stop drinking.’
‘Noooooooooooo!’ She swayed a little and then gasped. ‘There’s a bottle of Bombay Sapphire in the cupboard.’ She pushed her hands in the sofa to stand up but he stopped her.
‘I’ll get it.’ He left the room and was back in seconds, a long glass with liquid inside. ‘There you go, drink it all in one.’
‘Now we’re talking.’ But as she took her first gulp she pulled a face. ‘What is that?’
‘It’s water. And you’re not having anything else until you drink it.’
Lydia did as she was told and Connor went out to the kitchen again. When he returned he handed her a second glass of water. ‘You should’ve told me, you know.’
She put her glass on the coffee table and slumped back into the sofa. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone knowing anything else crappy in my life. I’ve had almost a year of dealing with Theo, his family, friends and well-meaning acquaintances, and I really thought I’d got to the point where I could be normal.’
‘You’re still normal. People cheat every day.’
‘See, that’s what I like about you, Connor. You tell it how it is. You’re honest.’
‘I’m not condoning what he did, not in any way, but remember Theo can’t have a say in this when he’s unconscious.’
‘He should be grateful he’s unconscious or I might knock him that way.’ Reluctantly, she drank some more of her water. ‘Do you know it’s been just over a year since the accident?’ she said sombrely.
‘I didn’t realise.’ Connor chose his words carefully. ‘Look, maybe he did change his mind, maybe this other woman was a mistake and he was full of regret.’
‘What, so you’re saying I should ignore it?’
‘No, not at all, but I don’t think you should hate him for it.’
‘I don’t hate him.’
Connor put a hand across hers. ‘I know you don’t.’
They stayed that way for a while, their hands together, him rubbing the back of hers with a thumb in a comforting way until Lydia turned so their faces were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face.
Lydia moved closer still, until her lips met his. And it was exactly like it had been before, the night he’d kissed her outside the bar.
‘Lydia…’ He pulled away.
‘What, you’re not attracted to me?’
He harrumphed, shook his head. ‘I’m a man, aren’t I? And you’re gorgeous. But we’re friends.’
She kissed him again and she could tell he was finding it hard to stop. ‘We can be friends with benefits.’
He laughed then. ‘Do you think that ever really works?’
She pulled away and looked up at the ceiling, her eyes glistening. It was the effect of the alcohol, the recounting of the night in the hotel, the last eleven months. It was everything accumulating into one giant ball of emotion.
Connor reached a hand to her cheek and his thumb wiped away her tears.
She looked at him now, her face against his palm as he looked deep into her eyes. ‘Please, Connor. I’m so lonely I can barely breathe, I just want to forget. I want to forget everything.’
He only hesitated a moment more and then his lips were against hers and he gave in to temptation and for the rest of the night Lydia did what she hadn’t been able to do in almost a year. She left behind everything that was bad in her life and only thought about the good.