Читать книгу The First Christmas Without You: - Michelle Betham - Страница 5

The harsh, north-east wind whistled through the gap underneath the door of my shop, and it was at that exact moment that I questioned my reasoning for booking a winter holiday somewhere even colder than the country I actually lived in.

‘You could’ve picked somewhere like Tenerife,’ Kat said, almost reading my mind as she settled herself down on the pale-green wicker chair beside the counter at the back of my small but cosy gift shop in the little north-east-English coastal town of Tynemouth. ‘Y’know, a country where you don’t have to put on three layers of clothes just to pop to the pub,’ she went on, picking up a packet of joss sticks from the shelf behind her and examining it closely. ‘I mean, why Lapland, Jess?’

I was actually quite tired of explaining exactly why I’d chosen Finnish Lapland to take my first holiday in a long time – my first holiday since the events of last Christmas that had seen my life change in an instant and my whole way of thinking about things turned completely on its head.

‘You know I’ve always wanted to go there, Kat.’ And I had. I just hadn’t expected it to be under these circumstances. ‘You know we’d both always wanted to go there.’

Kat frowned as she looked at me, accepting the cup of tea I held out to her, putting the joss sticks back down on the shelf.

I leant back against the counter and took a sip of tea, quickly glancing outside at the driving rain that was beating hard against the windows. Despite the wind whistling through the gap in my door it was still cosy and reasonably warm in my lovely little shop, the smell of incense and burning candles creating a wonderfully welcoming atmosphere. I loved my shop – Rainbows – smack bang in the village centre. I’d run it for over fifteen years now, and although it hadn’t exactly made me into anything even remotely resembling a millionaire, it gave me a comfortable and enjoyable way of earning an income. Selling everything from candles to home-crafted gifts, jewellery and cards, clothing and accessories, and even local souvenirs, it was my haven. My escape. Now more so than ever.

‘It’s Christmas, though, Jess.’ Kat’s voice broke into my thoughts, tearing me away from the memories I’d been about to dredge up all over again. ‘Don’t you want to spend Christmas with your mum and dad?’

I closed my eyes for a second, sighing probably a touch too heavily, but I really thought I’d explained this to everyone. Countless times. I thought they’d all got it by now.

‘Kat, believe me, I love them to bits, I really do. And I know they mean well, but, I just can’t do it. I need to get away, y’know? To sort things out in my own head without everybody else around me throwing in their own two-penny’s-worth. I think it’s about time I started doing that, don’t you?’

Kat sat forward in the chair, looking at me with those same concerned eyes that people had been looking at me with for the past twelve months. ‘Well, yeah, but… they’re just concerned, Jess. They’re worried about you. We all are.’

‘I’m forty-two years old, Kat. People seem to be forgetting that. And I really don’t need to be treated with kid gloves anymore, I’m fine now.’

Kat raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you?’

I really didn’t want to get into this conversation again. I’d been through it enough times, and that was the main reason I’d made the decision to spend Christmas somewhere completely different this year. Somewhere we’d always wanted to visit, a place we’d both wanted to experience; only now I was going to have to experience it alone – for the both of us.

‘You’ve still got time to change your mind,’ Kat persisted, sitting back and crossing her legs, still eyeing me with that concerned expression on her face. ‘Maybe delay your trip until after Christmas? I mean, I’m not denying that getting away from here for a while isn’t a good idea, but… You’re not going to change your mind, are you?’

I shook my head, quickly checking my watch. ‘Nope. I’m not going to change my mind. Come on, get a shift on, Katrina. I’ve got to lock up in half an hour and get packing. And there’s a lot to pack when you’re heading off to the Arctic Circle, believe me.’

Kat sighed, hauling herself up out of the chair. ‘Anyway, if you had to go away over Christmas, I don’t understand why you had to go with your brother and his mates. Why didn’t you ask me?’

I looked at Kat, half-smiling at her as I tidied up a tray of friendship bracelets I’d made that morning. ‘Seriously? You? In salopettes? And thermal underwear? Navigating your way around the ski slopes in snow boots and a thick padded anorak?’

‘I’m sure you can get some quite fashionable padded anoraks, if you look hard enough,’ Kat huffed, examining her nails.

I nudged her, smiling as she leant over and hugged me. She’d hugged me a lot over the past year, and every hug from my best friend still meant the world to me. I still needed all those hugs because, on the outside I might give the impression that everything was fine, but deep down inside I was still getting there. Slowly. I just didn’t want everyone else knowing it was taking this much time.

‘Look, Matt had already booked his skiing trip there, and he’s been before so, it just made sense to tag along. Especially as it’s somewhere we… I’ve always wanted to visit.’ Kat didn’t miss the look on my face as I quickly corrected myself, but I avoided her eyes. Now wasn’t the time to get into another deep conversation about how everyone around me still assumed I wasn’t coping. I was coping. In my own way. They just needed to let me get on with it.

I had thought about doing what Kat had suggested and leaving it until after Christmas to take my own trip to Lapland, but I was also big enough to realise that, although I might come across as somebody who could quite easily handle some time on her own, thanks to the vibes I’d been sending out for the past year, I probably was going to need some company at some point. Because this was Christmas. And Christmas wasn’t just any time of the year for me. It was a special time, a time I’d always loved, or it had been, until the events of last year. When Christmas changed forever for me. We’d always spent Christmas together, you see. Just the two of us, holed up in our little two-up two-down close to the sea front. Just the two of us. The way we’d always liked it. And this past year without him had been the hardest of my life. He’d been my world, my whole reason for existing. Oh, my life had been good before he’d walked into it, don’t get me wrong. He’d just made everything that much better, that’s all. I guess you could say he’d been the icing on the cake. He’d completed me. And not having him in my life anymore meant that, as far as I was concerned, Christmas had lost its appeal, it meant nothing now. And I just couldn’t do another Christmas at home without him. Another Christmas without icing…