Chapter Five
Eighteen Days to Christmas
I pushed my trolley around the supermarket, in no hurry. Saturday was usually my day for getting the flat straight. That meant groceries, cleaning, and doing the laundry. That much hadn’t changed in the last six years.
I turned onto the aisle containing breakfast cereals, and paused to consult my list.
Since when do you eat that crap?
I jerked my head up. Mike was standing in front of my trolley, still naked.
What are you talking about?
He gestured to the shelf beside me. Those are loaded with sugar. Did I teach you nothing? If you want a breakfast that will really set you up for the day, then what’s wrong with porridge?
I glanced down at my list where the word porridge was written.
Then something got the better of me. I glared at him.
What I eat is no longer your concern. And if I want to eat chocolate-frosted sugar bombs, I will eat chocolate-frosted sugar bombs.
I reached out for the nearest box of sugar-loaded cereal, picked it up, and placed it deliberately in the trolley.
Mike folded his arms. Well, carry on eating that lot, and no one will look at you.
I’d had enough.
You took care of yourself your whole life.
You didn’t smoke, you drank in moderation, you almost lived in the gym, and yet you’re the one who died of a sudden heart attack.
As soon as the words had left my mouth, I regretted them.
My heart ached to see the hurt in Mike’s eyes. Hurt I’d put there. I’m sorry.
He said nothing for a moment. They said that could have happened at any time. A defect that no one had ever picked up on. Even in my head his voice was so quiet.
I’m sorry. Except I knew the words were not enough. Then a thought occurred to me. You were there? When the doctor talked me through how you’d… died?
Not then, no. He shrugged. That was later. Mike sighed. Just get on with your shopping. He glanced into the trolley again. He arched his eyebrows. Wow. Maybe it’s a good thing I showed up today. Because someone needs to talk to you about your shopping habits.
I aimed the trolley at him and pushed, half wondering whether it would go through him. I got my answer when the trolley gave a jolt, as if it had run into a wall.
Mike smirked. If you want me to leave, you only have to ask.
Just let me get on with my shopping, all right?
Mike stepped aside, and I continued along the aisle until I reached the biscuits.
His words still burned me, and I scanned the shelf for the most indulgent chocolate biscuits I could find.
When I found something that fit the bill, I picked up a packet and slung it into the trolley.
“What have those poor cookies ever done to you?”
It took me a second to realize it wasn’t Mike’s voice. I looked up and found Ollie standing next to me, wearing the same jacket he’d worn the previous day and pushing a trolley, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I was miles away.”
Ollie chuckled. “I find that’s the only way to get through the shopping. It’s like I’m on autopilot. Not exactly one of the highlights of my weekend.”
“Oh, I hear you on that one.”
Ollie smiled. “I don’t know about you, but my Saturdays are to be endured, rather than enjoyed. I use them to get everything dull and boring out of the way for the rest of the week.”
I nodded slowly. “Let me guess. Laundry, cleaning…”
He laughed. “A fellow sufferer. You have my sympathies. What makes it worse is that I’m in the middle of a huge clear out.” He held up a yellow Post-it. “Oh well, back to the list. It was nice seeing you again.”
“You too.”
Ollie gave me a polite smile, then continued on his way. I looked around cautiously, but there was no sign of Mike. I wasn’t surprised. I hadn’t meant to sound so brutal.
My shopping paid for, and the plastic bags containing my groceries loaded into the trolley, I headed for the door. As I passed the café, my nostrils flared at the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Why not? I have time, and the laundry can wait.
I located the lockers where shopping could be stowed safely, then headed back to the café.
I ordered a latte, and was going to leave it at that, until a piece of stollen caught my eye.
Two rich pastries into days. I’d better not make a habit of this.
I took my tray and found an empty booth.
Around me, customers were enjoying all day breakfasts, a roast lunch, and a lot of mince pies.
“Okay, this is getting to be a bit creepy. Who precisely is stalking who?”
I glanced up. Ollie stood next to my table, a tray in hand. I took a furtive look around, convinced this was Mike’s doing. Still no sign of him, so I relaxed.
“Seeing as you found me in the aisles and here, the finger of suspicion is aiming right at you, I’d say.” I gestured to the empty bench facing me. “Do you want to join me?”
“Sure.” Ollie slid into the bench and deposited his mug and plate on the table. The music changed, and the air was filled with the sound of Wizzard wishing it could be Christmas every day. Ollie closed his eyes.
“It gets a bit much, right?” I sympathized. “All the Christmas songs they play for weeks on end.”
Ollie opened his eyes. “It’s not that. Just… memories.”
I sighed. “Tell me about it.” Then something he’d said earlier sank in. “You’re not the only one having a clear out. I spent all last night packing boxes for the charity shops.”
Ollie widened his eyes. “Me too. I’ve been putting it off.” He dumped a packet of sugar into his coffee and stirred it. “I thought I’d feel better once I’d started, but…”
“Are you okay?” I blurted out before I had a chance to think. I smiled. “That’s the second time I’ve asked you that.”
Ollie did a quick scan of the supermarket café. “Just had this overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. Thought I’d better make sure someone isn’t lurking nearby, holding a salami.”
I laughed. “I think you’re safe.” I knew he was—Mike wasn’t around.
Ollie took a sip of coffee. “Thanks for asking though. I wasn’t just saying that yesterday, by the way. You really did make it easier.”
There was something about him, an air of sorrow that clung to him. “Want to share? I’m a stranger. Maybe it would help to talk about it.”
“They say that, don’t they?” He took another sip of coffee. Then he pointed to my stollen. “You haven’t tried it yet.”
I cut off a small piece with the edge of my fork, and tasted it, unable to hold back the small moan of pleasure that escaped me. “I love marzipan. Best thing about Christmas.” I gestured to the plate. “Try a piece.”
Ollie hesitated, before cutting off a small piece with his own knife. Judging by his expression, he found the pastry just as delicious.
“If it helps,” I said slowly, “yesterday was important for me too.”
Ollie regarded me thoughtfully. “Do you often go to that coffee shop?”
I shook my head. “That was my first time.”
He sighed. “I can't tell you how many times I’ve been there. It was one of my favourites—well, our favourites—that is, mine and my former… boyfriend’s.
” His gaze flickered up to my face. “Normally, I’m nervous about sharing that with strangers.
You never know who you’re talking to, do you?
But I get a feeling with you that it’s okay. Don’t ask me how.”
I had to smile. “The gaydar is strong in this one.” Inside, I was bowled over. He’s gay?
Ollie’s eyes were huge. “No way. Well, that definitely explains it.”
“Can I ask you something about your choice of vocabulary just now? You said former, not ex.”
Ollie nodded, his face tightening a little. “Jay died three years ago, and yesterday was the first time I went back there.” I stared at him, struck by the coincidences. Ollie frowned. “Have I said something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” I hasten to assure him. “It’s just that… yesterday was a first for me too. I tend to avoid coffee shops at Christmas. Too many memories. It was something I used to do with…” His name stuck in my throat.
Ollie’s eyes glistened. “You’ve lost someone too.
” It wasn’t a question. Then he reached across the table and covered my hand with his in a surprisingly intimate gesture.
“You don’t have to tell me, okay? I mean that.
And I think I’ve done all my sharing for today.
” He gave my hand a squeeze before releasing it and wrapping it around his mug.
I followed suit and drank my latte. We sat in silence for a moment, not that it was quiet—Wizzard had gone, to be replaced by Paul McCartney, singing about the pipes of peace.
After a moment, Ollie sighed again. “You think you’re doing well. You think you’re coping.”
I couldn’t resist. “You think you’ve moved on.”
Ollie chuckled. “Oh wow. You really do get it.” He cocked his head to one side. “How long has it been… since you lost him?”
“Six years. It didn’t occur to me until yesterday that I was surrounded by him. All his things were still there.” I forked off another piece of stollen, trying not to think about packing what was left of Mike into boxes.
“Yeah, same here. It was almost like I could hear him, telling me I had to do something. Going back to that coffee shop felt like the logical first step.”
Suddenly it struck me. “And last night you were going home to start the clear out. That’s why you were so reluctant to leave.”
Ollie gave another nod. “It felt so… final.”
“And yet, when I’d done it, it felt right.”
Ollie wiped his eyes. “Yeah.” He smiled at me.
“Seems like I wasn’t quite done sharing after all.
” He cocked his head again. “Just like it feels right saying all this to you. The fact that you’re in the same boat only confirms it.
We were meant to have this conversation, if you believe in such things. ”
I stifled my chuckle. Mike definitely qualified as such a thing. And then it struck me. “Can I ask you something? Is this where you normally shop?”
Ollie blinked. “Funny you should ask that. No, not usually. But I was passing by, and I suddenly had the urge to buy chocolate.” He chuckled. “It happens.”
Yeah. Sure it did. I made a mental note to ask Mike if he’d had anything to do with Ollie’s sudden chocattack. I took another bite of stollen before continuing. “So now what?”
Ollie straightened. “Now I get back to living. I get the feeling Jay would hate to see me like this.”
“I know Mike would.”
Ollie swallowed. “Then that’s what we do,” he said decisively.
“A… friend has been telling me I should go to a club or a gay bar. Except this is the point where I should explain that I never went to clubs or gay bars even when we were together. So that really would be a step out of my comfort zone.” Maybe that was why Mike had suggested it.
Ollie laughed. “I met Jay at a gay bar. He was on a stag night, and I was out with friends. Our Saturday nights used to be very different. I say nights—we usually got home around four in the morning.” His eyes lit up. “Hey, there’s an idea.”
“What is?”
“Let me help you step out of your comfort zone. Come with me to a gay bar. Just a bar, that’s all.
” He was almost pleading with me. “You’d be helping me too.
It’s been three years for me. I’d feel better walking into a bar with a friend.
” He gazed at me inquiringly. “I hope I’m not overstepping the mark here, but you feel like a friend.
The way we met, the way this conversation has gone… ”
I knew exactly what he meant, and I felt the same way. All the same, my heart pounded. Packing up Mike’s stuff was one thing…
“Tonight.”
My heart quaked. “Tonight?”
Ollie nodded. “There’s a drag show on at the Admiral Duncan. That’s in Soho. It’ll be fun.” He locked gazes with me. “Say yes?”
I forced the word from my mouth before I could reconsider. “Yes.”
Ollie beamed. “Great. Let’s swap numbers, and we can work out when and where to meet. Just dress casual, and don’t worry about it. We’re just going for a drink, that’s all.”
Don’t worry? Just a drink?
Ollie had no idea.
This was huge.