Chapter 4 Hayley
Hayley
H ayley clutched the seat of the car, wishing Jamie would slow down.
The roads were narrow and windy, and at lunchtime they’d stopped for a romantic crab sandwich in a pretty seaside village, a decision she was now regretting.
Not that there had been anything wrong with the sandwich.
Far from it. It was possibly one of the most delicious things she’d ever eaten (she’d been convinced she could taste the sea), but unless Jamie stopped taking corners as if he was on a racing track, the whole episode was going to lose its romantic edges (and she would lose her lunch).
“Could you slow down? I’ve never been to this part of England before and I’d like to not die and maybe have time to admire the scenery.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to admire the scenery when we’re home.”
Home. It was an alien word to her, but she liked the way it sounded.
“You still call it home, even though you have your own home in Edinburgh?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “I suppose I have two homes. The place I grew up, and the place I live now. And by the way, Edinburgh is your home too now. I just hope you don’t get bored giving up your nomadic lifestyle.”
“I won’t.” She smiled and gazed at the view.
It was dizzying to think that when Christmas was over, she’d be going back to his (she still couldn’t quite think of it as “their”) apartment in Edinburgh.
She was used to moving. Always moving. “It’s beautiful here.
Wild. I can’t believe it’s snowing. It’s magical. ”
“You’re not missing Thailand?”
“I don’t care where I am as long as I’m with you.”
“Northumberland is a special place, and I can’t wait to show it to you.
” He reached across and took her hand, which normally she would have loved.
She’d spent so much of her childhood starved of affection she now soaked up every morsel in the same way she soaked up sunshine, but right now she wanted him to keep both hands on the wheel.
The thing about whirlwind relationships, as she was discovering, was that every day you learned something new about each other.
Take today for example. She’d known from the first day she’d met him that Jamie loved cars, mostly because she’d been standing next to her jeep, which had broken down again, and he’d stopped and said let me take a look , and he’d stared down at the engine, muttered something, tweaked something, covered himself in oil, and then the next moment the engine of her jeep was purring happily again.
And she’d been so relieved that when she’d asked what she owed him and he’d looked at her and said how about dinner , she hadn’t objected.
Coming from anyone else that might have sounded creepy, but Jamie was incapable of appearing to be anything other than what he was—good-natured and honest.
She’d known that from the first day.
What she hadn’t known was that he loved driving cars fast down narrow country roads (he also liked running marathons, watching old movies, playing video games and eating very dark chocolate, but she found those obsessions less terrifying).
“What if your family don’t like me? What if I say, or do, the wrong thing?”
“They’re going to love you.”
He took their support and affection for granted, but that was because he’d never been without love in his life. And he’d never had to earn that love. He didn’t live with the fear that people might walk away from him. He had no idea what it was like to be rejected.
“I’m nervous. It feels like an interview.
Or maybe an audition.” She remembered a time more than two decades earlier when she’d been sitting on a hard chair wearing a new dress that scratched her skin, trying to look like a poster child.
She wasn’t sure what people were looking for but it turned out it wasn’t her.
It happens , she was told. It isn’t about you .
Hayley had wondered who else it could be about as she was the only child in the room.
“You need to relax.” Jamie slowed down as they approached a sharp bend. “Everything is going to be fine. My parents are relaxed, fun, good people.”
“I’m sure they are, but it feels like a lot going from never meeting someone to spending Christmas with them.
Let me just check my facts again.” She’d been memorizing as much as she could to lessen the chances of her doing or saying something wrong.
“You’re the oldest. Then there are the twins, Rosie and Becky.
They both live in London. Becky is a computer whiz and Rosie makes costumes for the ballet.
Rosie is madly in love with Declan, who she married in February, and Becky is single.
Not dating anyone, but I’m not going to mention that because she isn’t the type who likes to talk about feelings.
” She glanced at him. “How am I doing so far?”
“A star student.” He grinned. “What’s our dog called?”
“Percy, and he’s an English setter. You’ve had him six years. He loves being stroked, but I’m not to let him jump up or he’ll take advantage. He’s not allowed in the bedrooms, but Rosie usually ignores that and sneaks him onto the bed when everyone is asleep.”
“Full marks, but Hayley, you really don’t need to study this as if it’s an exam.”
“The more I know, the easier it will be. I want to fit in.” She filed all the information away carefully. “Ask me something else.”
“What’s the name of our guinea pig?”
She looked at him. “You have a guinea pig?”
“No. I was testing you.” He was laughing. “No guinea pig.”
“Have I told you that you’re annoying? You need to take this more seriously.” She eyed the side of the road, thinking that the snow seemed to be deeper here.
“You’re taking it seriously enough for both of us.”
“Maybe.” She was determined to finish the conversation.
“Your mother used to be a nurse. She’s an excellent cook.
Your dad has recently retired, and he is very excited about that because although he loved his job, it was all-consuming.
He’s the life and soul of any party and he will always be offering me a drink, but it’s fine to refuse. You’re sure? That won’t sound rude?”
He sighed. “Hayley—”
“I know you think I’m being ridiculous, but these things matter. I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“There is no wrong thing. My mother just wants happy people around her.”
“Happy people. Right. I can do that.” She mustn’t show that she was nervous or she’d make everyone else uncomfortable. “And your parents have been happily married for—forty years?”
“Don’t ask me how long it is. I don’t pay attention to anniversaries, and neither does Becky.” He shrugged. “Rosie might know. She’s the romantic among us.”
“But they’ve been together since they were twenty-one, so yes, a long time. What else do I need to know?”
“Nothing. You know more than I do. And it isn’t necessary.” He gave her a brief glance, understanding in his eyes. “You don’t need to study my family, Hayley.”
“I want to fit in.”
“Just be yourself. Christmas will be chaos. It always is. I doubt anyone will take much notice of you to be honest.”
She hoped he was right, because the idea of so many people, all of whom loved Jamie but didn’t know her, was daunting.
Would they like her? She tried hard not to think that way but her brain was hardwired to ask those questions.
It was her default position on every social situation. No one will want me .
Because there had been a time when no one had wanted her. Not her mother who had left her in a supermarket bag in a park an hour after she was born, and not the couple who’d thought they might adopt her but then changed their minds.
“Tell me more about your family Christmas. I want to know what happens. What you all do. Traditions, that kind of thing.”
“I’ve already told you everything there is to know. You can’t possibly want to hear it again.”
“I do.” This part was magical, so close to her childish dreams. She never tired of hearing about it. “There must be loads of things you haven’t shared. For example, when you were little, did you hang your stockings at the end of the bed?”
“No. Downstairs on the fireplace because my mother always wanted us to open presents together.”
Together.
She was used to alone . Together wasn’t a word that had played much of a part in her life. She’d been close to some of the staff in the residential home where she’d lived for much of her childhood, but at the end of the day they’d gone home to their own families.
She focused on him. “And what kind of things would be in your stocking?”
“What do you mean?”
“Gifts. What sort of gifts?”
“Oh. I don’t know.” He gave a shrug. “The usual kind of stuff.”
Usual for him.
She felt a twinge of envy that his childhood meant he took things like that for granted.
“Like what?”
“You want specifics? I’m not sure I can even remember—” He slowed down as they reached a junction and then turned right onto an even narrower road. “When I was young it was usually toys. Lego. Model airplanes. Things I could make and build.”
“And you made those by yourself?”
“No. Usually with my dad or grandad. Sometimes with Becky because she loved building things too. My mother was good at choosing things that interested us. So Rosie would have dolls and dressing-up clothes, or fabric so she could make her own clothes for the dolls, but Becky and I would have puzzles and mechanical cars that needed building, and one year we had a train set between us.”
She could picture the wonder on their faces as they’d opened their gifts.
“What else?”
“There was one year I had racing cars. That was fun, until the dog stepped on the track and broke it.”
Thoughtful gifts. Gifts that each child would enjoy.
“Chocolate?”
“Oh yes.” He grinned. “Becky and I always ate that before breakfast, but Rosie would hide hers away and save it for later. One year I found it and ate it. Not our finest sibling moment.”