Free Holly's Christmas Kiss by Alison May Page A

thought you saw to the solicitor yesterday.’
    ‘Er … no.’ I tried to go to the solicitors. I had an appointment. I got as far as the door. They had a Christmas tree in the reception. I could see it through the glass. It was a real one, like Dad used to bring home. I could remember the smell of the tree. I could remember Christmas with Mum and Dad still together. It wasn’t the right thing to be thinking about. I’m supposed to be thinking about Mum. I didn’t go in. I put a smile on for Jess. ‘I’ll phone them after Christmas.’
    She takes another sip of champagne. ‘So have you got everything we need?’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘For Christmas!’
    I gesture towards her glass. ‘Well we did have champagne.’
    ‘You know what I mean. Turkey, little tiny sausages wrapped in bacon, Christmas pudding.’
    ‘I don’t like Christmas pudding.’
    ‘Neither do I, but that’s not the point. It’s Christmassy.’
    I close my eyes for a second. I was hoping for a quiet Christmas. ‘Me and Mum never really bothered with Christmas food and stuff.’
    Jess doesn’t answer, but I can see her nose start to wrinkle and a furrow appears between her eyebrows. ‘I thought it would be nice, after everything.’
    I’m being ungrateful. She’s right of course. It will be nice to make an effort, and at least doing the traditional Christmas dinner will be different from all the years with Mum. ‘Ok. What do we need?’
    ‘Can we get a Christmas tree?’
    I shake my head. ‘No.’
    I find a pen and paper and start to make a list. Jess, it turns out, has very firm ideas about what constitutes a proper Christmas. I put my foot down over the tree and insist that for two of us we only need a chicken rather than turkey, but apart from that it’s Jess’s perfect Christmas all the way.
    The thought of braving the supermarket to get all this stuff on Christmas Eve doesn’t appeal, but we can go together, and we’ve got all day. ‘Do you want to drive to the shops?’
    She wrinkles her nose again. ‘Actually, I’m meeting Patrick for lunch.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘I mean, he’s going down to London this evening, and I’m not going to see him until Boxing Day.’
    Two whole days.
    ‘You don’t mind going to the shop, do you?’
    ‘Course not.’ Well someone has to go, and I’m not doing anything else, so I might as well make myself useful.
    Jess skips off to make herself beautiful for the sainted Patrick. I collect my bag from the kitchen and get in the car. As soon as I sit down in the driver’s seat I have one of the moments. I’ve never had anything like this before, but since Mum went they come every couple of days. It’s not an upset feeling or anger or even anything you could recognise as grief. It’s just the absolute certainty that everything in the world is just too vast and too empty and too pointless to contemplate. I sit in the car, staring straight ahead, and wait for it to pass.
     

Chapter Eight
    Christmas Eve, 2013
     
    At Edinburgh station, Sean swung Michelle’s case from the luggage rack and hopped from the train onto the platform. He set off towards Left Luggage and had checked in his rucksack and Michelle’s suitcase before she had time to object. He strode out of the station towards the city.
    ‘Aren’t we going straight to your house?’
    ‘Not yet. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re in the middle of the best city on the planet.’
    Michelle opened her mouth.
    ‘Don’t argue. The best city on the planet, with a beautiful woman who says she doesn’t like Christmas. This is part one of persuading you otherwise.’
    Michelle made a face. ‘It’ll be really busy.’
    Sean grinned. ‘Full of potential new friends.’
    ‘And cold …’
    ‘Cold is Christmassy.’ Sean leant towards her, the now familiar scent of his skin filling Michelle’s senses. ‘We had an agreement. You said you’d go along with me for forty-eight hours. You’re barely out of hour one.’
    Pulling her duffle coat tight