10. Three Flashes for Making Out
Chapter 10
Three Flashes for Making Out
T hey read a couple more chapters of Winter Holiday before the boys declared they were ready to settle down for bed. As Amy found a piece of paper to use as a bookmark and closed the book, the wind whistled outside the window. The relative silence of the countryside was unnerving after the constant noise and traffic of the High Street at home, and she hoped Harry wouldn’t find it too difficult to settle in the unfamiliar quietness.
‘Who’s your favourite character then?’ Amy asked. ‘I always quite liked Dot because she’s fond of books.’
‘I though Dick would be your favourite,’ Oliver said with a snort of laughter which Harry joined in. They were clearly getting overtired and silly.
‘Perhaps we could do signalling to Mars like in the book?’ Harry said as Amy put it down on the bedside table between them. ‘Are there any other kids here we could do signals with?’
‘There’s only the farmhouse that’s close enough, and there aren’t any kids there,’ Amy said. ‘You could always take a couple of torches outside and signal to each other after dark. Or you could go into separate rooms and use knocks as signals.’
‘Yeah, let’s do that now,’ said Harry.
‘Not now. It’s bedtime.’
‘And you don’t know how to do Norse code, Harry,’ Oliver pointed out logically. Amy suppressed a smile at the mental picture of a bunch of Vikings flashing messages with torches.
‘You could make up your own code and pretend. That’s what Dot and Dick did in the story,’ she said.
‘Yeah. Let’s make up a code with our torches. It could be one flash for hello and two flashes for goodbye ,’ Oliver began.
‘And my mam’s making out with your dad again could be three flashes,’ Harry added with a giggle.
‘But now, I think it’s time you settled down and went to sleep,’ said Amy. ‘Leave the signalling until tomorrow. Come on, like down now.’ She pulled their covers up.
As if on cue there was a knock on the door. Matt had been sorting out some firewood while she read the boys their story. His eyes were heavy.
‘We need a code for come in and another one for go away ,’ said Oliver, sitting up in bed again. ‘We’re making up codes, Dad, like in the story. Signalling to Mars. They used Norse code.’
‘But we don’t know that.’ Harry sat up too. Both boys looked more awake now than they had done when she started reading to them, which hadn’t been her intention.
‘Morse code? I know one bit of Morse code,’ said Matt. ‘I know the code for S.O.S. – that’s what you use if there’s an emergency. That’s three short knocks, three long ones then three short ones again. Like this.’ He demonstrated on the door, and the boys copied loudly by knocking on the wall .
‘Never mind codes now.’ Amy’s ears rang from all the knocking.
‘Time for bed,’ Matt said.
‘You want to make out with my mam, don’t you?’ Harry grinned.
‘That isn’t …’ Matt began. ‘Look, Boys, I want to ask you something. Something very important. When Oliver’s Granny gets here, I want you to promise me you won’t say things like that.’
‘I know. Mam’s already said. No bad words. No Titty and Dick and no making out,’ Harry said.
Matt began to turn red, and Amy didn’t dare catch his eye, because she knew he was trying very hard not to laugh.
‘That’s not quite what I was going to say – although, of course, Amy’s right, and you shouldn’t be using rude words anyway. I want to ask you not to say anything about me and Amy being … close friends. Granny Diane is still very, very upset about Oliver’s mummy, you see, Harry, and I think she’d find it difficult if she knew Amy and I are … are …’ He seemed to be struggling to find words that came easily to Amy. Amy and I are together . Amy and I are in a relationship . Amy and I are in love .
‘So, no singing songs about kissing under the Christmas tree and that kind of thing. It would make her very unhappy, and Christmas is meant to be a happy time for everyone. We need to help to cheer her up and not make her more unhappy. I’m sure you don’t want Granny to be unhappy, do you Oliver?’ Matt said.
Oliver shook his head.
‘So, we can’t tell Diane about you and Matt making out under the mistletoe,’ Harry said.
‘You didn’t see us making out under the mistletoe!’ Amy protested .
‘Doesn’t mean you didn’t do it though,’ he said with all the wisdom of his nearly-nine years.
‘Promise, Harry?’ she asked.
‘Promise.’
‘Oliver?’ asked Matt
‘You’ll have to stop holding hands and stuff,’ he said, ‘or she’ll know. She’s not stupid. She’s going to find out in about five minutes.’
‘We won’t hold hands – or stuff – when Granny’s here,’ Matt assured him.
‘Isn’t it like telling lies?’ He glanced sideways at his dad.
‘It’s not really telling lies; it’s just until we get a chance to explain it all to her carefully. Now, I think it’s time you two settled down to sleep,’ Matt said with a knowing glance at Amy, who smiled back.
They made it downstairs before the knocking on the floor began. The boys were creating convoluted codes, which apparently meant bring another glass of milk and can I get out of bed to go to the toilet, even though I promised five minutes ago I would stay in bed . A long and anguished hail of knocking until Amy had to run upstairs to see what the matter was, meant I’ve lost Sammy the Sheep .
They finally got the boys settled in bed and the lights turned out. The knocking on the walls and the floor died down, though every now and again there’d be a muffled giggle which suggested they were still awake.
‘Give them another half an hour or so, make sure they’re properly asleep,’ Amy suggested, ‘then it’s just you, me and the mistletoe.’
Matt gave the grate a good rattle, and put a couple of logs on top of the coal. Amy turned on some Christmas music in the background, lit the candles on the mantlepiece, and switched off the big light; the room became smaller and cosier by fire and candlelight. She had left a pan of mulled wine simmering in the kitchen and the scent of sweet wine and oranges, heavy with cinnamon, ginger and cloves had filled the air while they were upstairs. She poured them each a glass and they sat together on a sofa, their faces lit by the flickering light of the flames.
Matt yawned and stretched. ‘It’s good to sit down. These last few days have been so busy, I’m exhausted. I thought the boys were never going to settle.’
‘They’re excited. Our first holiday together, and it’s Christmas too. It’s hardly surprising they don’t want to go straight to sleep.’
‘I hope you and I won’t go straight to sleep tonight either.’ Matt winked.
‘And it’ll be nice to wake up together. Hopefully it won’t be like the last time we were at Elder Fell Farm - this time we won’t have the boys in bed with us because they’re scared of the thunder,’ Amy said with a grin.
‘That was quite a holiday. I hope this one is less eventful.’
‘I think that’ll depend on Diane.’ Amy drank some of her mulled wine, the heat of the drink warming her through. ‘Are you sure –’
‘Let’s not talk about any of that right now,’ Matt said with a sigh, settling back against the sofa cushions. ‘Let’s just try and enjoy tonight, shall we?’
‘That’s fine by me.’
It was quiet now. The only sound was the winter wind curling around the isolated cottage, and the creaking of the floorboards as the old house settled down for the night. At last, she had Matt all to herself, and the whole of the longest night of the year lay ahead of them.
‘I’m just going to pop upstairs for a couple of minutes and … slip into something more comfortable,’ she said with a knowing grin.
‘I can’t wait!’ Matt said. ‘I’ll follow you in a little while.’
She skipped up the stairs two at a time, and found the champagne satin negligee she’d put aside for this holiday. She looked at herself in the mirror. Perfect. Sophisticated and sexy; Matt was going to love it. She lay down on the bed and waited. There was no movement from downstairs, so she padded to the top of the stairs and called down softly:
‘Matt? Are you coming up?’
No answer. She tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room. She slipped one strap seductively off her shoulder, the satin glowing amber in the reflection of the firelight and clinging to her in all the right places.
‘Are you ready?’ she whispered in her huskiest tones. Still no answer.
Matt’s breathing had slowed, and his arm hung down by his side. His eyes were closed.
‘Matt?’ she whispered.
His answer was a soft, guttering snore.