Chapter Ten #2
Mel does her best to smile her agreement.
Try telling Finn that, she wants to say.
Although isn’t the fact that he broke up with her proof that he didn’t love her?
Maybe he had, once. She used to be so, so sure of it—even before he’d told her.
It had taken them a while to build up to the exchange, stating it out loud.
They’d come close, and it had been implied, but neither of them had been brave enough to say it first.
It had been in a supermarket when he’d told her. She’d been weighing grapefruits in her hands, deciding which ones to pick for a grapefruit sorbet she wanted to make, and when she’d held them up for his opinion, he’d smiled at her.
I love you, Mel.
In a supermarket, slipped into the everyday. And that’s how she’d known that he meant it—it wasn’t him getting swept away in the moment. It was real. She still remembered the way her heart had stuttered, how she’d felt this fizzing in her stomach. How she’d felt settled, somehow, at the same time.
Right now, she hates him for that. For making her believe so fully that he would be hers forever—and for telling her in a supermarket, because—what?
—is she supposed to avoid supermarkets for the rest of her life to avoid reminders of him?
She angles the trolley away from the grapefruits as she and Susan meander through the fruit aisle, very firmly avoiding the citrus section.
“He was so unhappy when you broke up,” Susan continues. “It’s so nice to see him smiling again this holiday.”
Mel will have to take Susan’s word for it, that Finn was unhappy, because she’s not seen any evidence of that.
It probably makes her a horrible person, though, that she’s a little glad to hear it.
Better than if he’d been hosting parties and relishing his freedom.
Now, though, he seems to have settled back into single life with joy, doesn’t he?
“It’s exactly what I love about Christmas,” Susan continues, “everyone being together.”
Mel is alarmed when Susan turns distinctly misty-eyed. She lays a hand on Susan’s arm. Susan’s slim fingers come up to grasp Mel’s. “Sorry, love. Here I am, getting all emotional over nothing. I’m just glad you gave things another go—that’s all.”
“Me too,” Mel says, the lie tasting bitter and ugly on her tongue.
But what is she supposed to do? Fucking Finn.
If he hadn’t asked her to do this, she’d never be in this situation.
And now her mind is jumping forward to Boxing Day, to the promise she’d extracted from Finn.
Is she really going to be able to do that?
Is she really going to be able to watch Susan’s face as she does?
They walk again, Mel grabbing various vegetables for the sides she’s planning on making. She hesitates before asking, “Susan?”
“Hmmm?”
“How did you know it wasn’t right, to give things another go with Andrew?
” She’d only met Finn’s dad once—and though he’d seemed friendly enough, he didn’t seem overly interested in her.
Finn had put off the meeting as long as he could, reluctant to even introduce them, and Mel had guessed enough to know that Finn had been worried Mel would judge him, because of what his father was like.
“Sorry,” Mel adds quickly when Susan doesn’t answer, staring at the fresh herbs instead. “I mean, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s obviously fine. I just—”
“No, I’m just thinking—that’s all. I suppose the thing is, with me and Drew, it was never right.
I know this sounds silly, but even thirty or so years ago, it was a bit of a different time—at least in the type of household I’d grown up in.
So when I got pregnant, it seemed like the right thing to do, to get married.
It’s not like anything catastrophic would have happened if we hadn’t married, but we’d thought why not?
We liked each other well enough—and I’d always wanted children.
But, actually, Andrew never really loved me. ”
Mel bites her lip. “I’m sure he—”
“No,” Susan says mildly. “He didn’t. And that’s okay—not everyone is destined for a great epic love story, despite what they portray in the movies.
I didn’t need that. I wanted security and comfort—and I wanted to be a great mum.
But that wasn’t enough for him. I imagine he’d cheated on me before we married, looking back, but I also know he wanted to believe that once we tied the knot, he’d stick it out.
That it would be enough for him too. When we finally broke up, it felt like a relief, to be honest. No more pretending. ”
Mel nods slowly. Is this what it’ll be like for her and Finn—will she look back, and think of it as a relief?
But as much as she wants to believe she hates him—or, better, that she feels nothing for him anymore—she just can’t get there.
She doesn’t think she could ever look back on her time with Finn and wish anything other than to be back there, with him.
“So how come you didn’t get divorced sooner?” It’s something she’s always wondered, when Finn explained a little of what his dad was like, but she’s never had the courage to ask before. She supposes the fact she knows she only has a few more days with his family is making her more ballsy.
“For the kids,” Susan says, her shoulders rising and falling.
“I didn’t want them to have to pick a side, and despite his faults he loved them, and they loved him.
It makes me sad, that he’s not in their lives so much anymore—and that’s what I was trying to avoid.
I wanted to keep us all together, for as long as possible, and if that meant I had to turn a blind eye every now and then, then so be it.
” She sighs. “I don’t think I’ll ever be sure if it was the right thing to do.
No matter how hard we try, I don’t think any parent can ever fully bring a child up without scathing them, just a little. ” She sounds so sad when she says that.
“I’m sorry,” Mel says quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”
“Nonsense. You’re welcome to ask me anything—you know that. And you’re part of the family, Mel. It absolutely is your business.”
Part of the family. Once, she’d really believed that—had imagined Finn’s family as her own. She glances at Susan. She’s wearing makeup today, not for the first time this holiday—a foundation that looks a fraction too orange under the harsh supermarket lighting.
“Anyway,” Susan says. “How are your parents?”
“They’re good—they’re in Zanzibar at the moment.”
“So exotic.”
Mel laughs. “It is indeed.”
“They must be so proud of you, everything you’ve accomplished.”
Mel remembers her mum’s announcement this morning.
You inspired me. “They are,” she says. But a part of her worries—what happens if she stops being successful?
Will they be disappointed? She won’t be much of an inspiration if her business fails, will she?
And all her mum’s time and effort, encouraging Mel to go after her dreams, will be for nothing.
Her stomach twists—maybe she should have stayed at the cottage, sent Finn to buy food instead.
Susan is watching her shrewdly. “I’m sure they’d be proud of you whatever you did, though,” she says, a little gently.
Mel isn’t so sure, but, before she can think of an appropriate response, they turn the corner to find Freya in full-on meltdown mode, standing in the middle of the aisle with her little arms crossed as Kristen pulls a hand through her red hair, looking a little like she might cry herself.
“Freya, I told you we were coming to the supermarket,” Kristen says, and Mel can hear the fight for patience.
Freya stamps her foot and refuses to look at her mother.
Kristen glances over to Susan and Mel. There are dark circles under her eyes that Mel hadn’t noticed yesterday. She shakes her head in exasperation. “I told her she should stay at home with Mark, but she insisted.”
Mel heads over to Freya. “Hey, Freya.” The little girl looks up at Mel suspiciously. “Do you know all the supermarket games?”
“What games?” Still that suspicious voice. She’s going to be one hell of a teenager. Mel almost wishes she could be around to see it.
“Wellll.” Mel draws out the word. “How about the alphabet game?”
Mel explains the basic rules of the game, introduced to her by Priya, and Freya immediately perks up, following Mel as she runs to the apples to tick off the A.
Mel hopes that distracting Freya will give Kristen a bit of a break, and she manages to sneak in the items on her own list as they go, though they get a bit stuck on foods beginning with X and Z, and Freya has no idea what “quinoa” is when Mel suggests it for Q.
When they meet Susan and Kristen halfway around, Susan winks at Freya. “Don’t forget you and me are in charge of the drinks tonight. We need to think about what concoctions we’re going to brew.”
Mel has a sudden thought and looks over at Kristen. “Ah…Do the meals tonight need to be child friendly?”
“No, don’t worry. She’ll be in bed by the time we eat. Susan and I have got a make-your-own-pizza kit for her, and sprinkles for ice cream.”
“Vanilla?” Freya pipes up hopefully.
“Only if you’re good,” says Kristen firmly, but she seems a touch more relaxed and not so much like she’s going to pull her hair out, so Mel takes that as a win.
Hattie is waiting for them all by the car when they get out of the supermarket. “I definitely get bonus points for being the quickest,” she announces as they all bundle in.
—
When they pull up outside the cottages, there is a sleek black car next to Finn’s rental, with a man in a suit helping a tall, dark, and attractive man unload luggage from the boot. Hattie lets out an excited squeal and bails out of the car before it’s come fully to a stop.
Dylan turns, catches Hattie, and swings her around in the air—a proper film-star moment, so perfect that Mel wonders if Dylan has rehearsed it.
“Who’s that?” Freya asks in her suspicious tone.
“That’s Uncle Dylan,” Kristen says, helping Freya to unstrap her car seat. “You remember Uncle Dylan?” Freya stares at Dylan through the window in a noncommittal way, and Mel feels oddly relieved that she’s not the only one subject to this kind of assessment.
Mel gets out of the car to hear Hattie crying, “You’re here!”
“I am!” Dylan pulls back and beams at her. “And I am fully ready to participate in all activities.”
“Good, because we’ve got a dessert to make.” Hattie takes Dylan’s hand to tug him into the cottage, while the chauffeur—of course he has a bloody chauffeur—asks, “Will that be all, sir?”
“That’s brilliant,” Dylan calls over his shoulder. “You’re a legend, Dave. Have a lovely Christmas with Maureen!”
Dave tips his hat. “And a happy Christmas to you too, sir.”
Susan is still in the driver’s seat, watching Hattie pull Dylan inside. Mel taps on the window, and Susan opens the door.
“You okay, Susan?” Mel asks.
Susan blinks up at Mel. That misty-eyed look is back—Mel supposes there’s something about Christmas that does that to you.
“Sorry, yes. I’m just an overemotional mother—that’s all. I can’t believe my baby’s all grown up.” She shakes her head as she gets out of the car. “I’m just so glad she met him. I’m so glad you’ve all found your person.”
Mel glances behind her to see Kristen there, too, biting her lip—like she’s caught the end of that and isn’t entirely happy, either.
She thinks of how Kristen was a little short with Mark yesterday, ahead of the scavenger hunt.
Is there a chance Mel and Finn aren’t the only ones hiding something this holiday?
Inside, Mark is watching TV—a rerun of the Christmas episode of Gavin & Stacey .
“Where’s Finn?” Mel asks—because she thinks she should.
“Hmmm? Oh, not sure. He went off for a walk, I think.” Mel nods and tells herself it’s none of her business what Finn gets up to when she’s not around. Maybe he’ll get lost in the woods and she won’t have to see him until this evening.
“Can we play another game?” Freya asks, tugging at Mel’s sleeve.
“Sure.” Mel is reminded again of Christmases with just her parents and how, after the excitement of present unwrapping, things could be a little boring. Freya’s in for a whole week of that. Mel had made up plenty of games as a kid, and racks her brain now for the best one.
Kristen appears by her side. “You don’t have to,” she whispers.
Mel smiles at Kristen. “It’s okay. I want to.”
They all start at the sound of Hattie’s voice, coming from the kitchen. “No one is allowed in. Our dessert is complicated and epic and will take ages and I don’t want anyone seeing.”
Everyone has the good sense not to argue.