8. Grayson
Christmas lights flickered tastefully in the living room that had probably been designed by someone my parents had paid for.
“I’m still not sure that being on that island is the right thing,” my sister said, content in her truth that what she said was always taken as the gospel.
It wasn’t.
“There’s nothing there. No challenge, no social life. What will Luca experience living there? And to take him so far away from Sherry? I don’t know what you were thinking.” She shook her head at me. “I saw her the day before last, getting last minute presents for the two boys who’re becoming her surrogate sons - ”
“You mean her gym manager’s kids?” She’d moved from one PT to another and was now shacking up with the bloke who owned the gym. I had no doubt she’d be with him for a while. From all accounts he earned enough money from a few celebrity clients and had a decent sized social media following. My sister had flashed a few of his posts in my face after she’d had a bonus bottle of wine the night before and it was obvious that Sherry was in her favourite position as arm candy.
Good for her.
“She probably misses Luca.” My sister sat down next to me. “I’ve asked her over tomorrow - Christmas Day so she can see him open his presents.”
I paused. Breathed. Breathed again because I needed all the oxygen available. “You’ve done what?”
“Asked her over. She said she’d check to see what her plans were, but it’ll be so nice for them to see each other. Maybe you could take Luca to buy her a Christmas present. He hasn’t even mentioned her once since he got here - ”
“Please remember, Megan, that when we lived here, she saw him the grand total of three times, other than when she was picking up her boyfriend’s sons from the same school. Which really upset Luca.” I got off the sofa.
It was Christmas Eve. I’d been here at my parents” home for the last thirty-six hours and we’d planned to leave first thing Boxing Day as the surgery was back open the day after that. I could’ve found a locum for a couple of days and stayed longer, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to be back in Puffin Bay with Clover and her mad cat, and with kids that Luca was still talking about because they were the first friends he’d seemed to really click all the way with.
“I’m sure - ”
“Stop there. You know what Sherry did and how it wrecked me. It left me as a single dad with a baby who’s never lived with his mother and spent three nights with her since she walked out. You’ve no right to ask her here for Christmas Day and you’ve completely overstepped.” I stopped, distracted by my phone because Clover’s name had come up on it.
Clover: Moonshine’s sleeping on your bed again. He seems to have claimed it.
I felt myself soften, some of the irritation slipped away. Clover managed to make me at least try to smile most hours. She’d become a bright glimmer in my days, whether it was the coffee and teas we grabbed together every morning, or how I managed to slip into her room in the evening, she’d found a niche I hadn’t been looking to fill.
It’d been three weeks since that night when we’d been at the restaurant, and I’d ended up doing despicable things to her in bed. We hadn’t talked about it. There was nothing to say she couldn’t tell her friends, or I couldn’t tell Cassian, the school’s headteacher who I’d ended up having a pint with a couple of times, but neither of us had said anything. Our days were the same as they had been for the few weeks previously, it just so happened that we spent a couple of hours after Luca had gone to bed finding different ways to give each other an orgasm, all of them not including penetration.
That was part of the fun now – everything but. At some point soon, I was going to break and the but would happen – maybe not actually in the butt because I didn’t even know what Clover’s take on that was, given she hadn’t ever had sex.
Yet.
It was she who was urging me to fuck her, and I was going to. I just didn’t know when.
What I did know was that it would change us. This was never going to be a one-night stand, and when it happened, we’d be venturing into something else. Maybe that something else would be bigger for me than for her too.
Me:Tell him he’ll have to move. We’re on the way home.
She would have a Clover-level freak out, which would have to wait about five hours until we were home, because I wasn’t explaining this in the car. It was just after three in the afternoon; if we left now, we’d catch traffic but we’d be waking up at home instead of with my sister and parents who’d made things feel uncomfortable for both me and Luca.
“I’m heading home.” I slid my phone in my pocket. “I’ll wait for Mum and Dad to come back and then we’ll head off.”
Megan stood up, hands straight on her hips. “Don’t be ridiculous, you - ”
I held up my hand and shook my head. “I don’t want to be here. Luca’s really quiet and I think he feels weird being back round here. He’s been really happy since we moved and this has been a mistake: we should’ve had our first Christmas since moving at home.”
“But we want you here. So we can be a family. Since you’ve moved, we’ve barely seen you. You’re not being fair on us if you leave now.”
My sister had melodrama down to a polished art form that probably received its own grant from the Art’s Council.
“Life’s not fair. I’m sure you’ll still have a great Christmas even without us.” At least she’d have something to moan about. My sister loved moaning about anything. Something else she had a post doctorate in.
The door opened and my parents were clearly back, the noise level going up fifty decibels or so.
I picked up the couple of magazines I’d put in the living room to pick through while Megan and our mother were watching mindless TV.
“Oh, Grayson! You’ll never guess who we saw!” My mother came in, tossing her scarf on the back of the sofa.
“I’m heading home.” Luca was upstairs in the room he was sharing with his cousin. He’d been especially quiet today and I’d noticed he was being exceptionally tidy, like he wanted to be ready to leave.
“What?” My father looked like I’d just told him all his shares had evaporated. “Did you just say you were heading home?”
I nodded. “I think we need to spend Christmas in our own home.”
Megan launched a cushion at me. It missed; she’d always had terrible aim. “He’s irritated because I asked Sherry if she wanted to come and see Luca on Christmas Day, which I thought was perfectly reasonable.”
My mother at least had the sense to look horrified. “That’s really not appropriate, Megan. That’s interfering.”
I headed towards the door. “Whatever it is, I don’t think Luca or I feel comfortable here at the moment so we’re going to head back to Anglesey. We’ll video call tomorrow after presents have been opened.”
“Son, wait.” My mother followed me up the stairs. “We won’t let Sherry come round. Megan overstepped.”
“It’s stress that I don’t want to deal with right now.” Or ever. “I want a quiet Christmas with Luca. This isn’t going to be quiet.”
“Grayson, just think about it. At least stay tonight and leave after you’ve opened presents in the morning. Don’t rush off just because of something Megan’s done. I’m sure Sherry won’t come round.” My mother was doing her best to smooth things over.
“It’s been too much since we got here. We should’ve stayed at home and seen you at Easter when you could’ve come to the island. Luca hasn’t slept well either. Please don’t fuss – I’m not changing my mind.” We were in the bedroom where I’d stayed now. I’d opened my weekend bag and was tossing clothes into it, not that there was much to pack. “I’ll go and speak to Luca.”
My mother tried to persuade me again to stay but the pig-headed stubborn streak I’d inherited from my grandfather was in full force and there was nothing that was going to stop it.
Half an hour later, and I had a smiling son in the back seat of the car, a few bags next to him because Santa’s reindeer had asked us to help them out and take our presents back to Puffin Bay.
I felt bad. My mum loved having her children and grandkids together and it rarely happened. It’d rarely happened even when I’d been living in Bristol, my sister making sure the world revolved around her which tended to suit everyone as it kept her happy, therefore they were also happy.
I could usually tolerate Megan much better, but her mentioning Sherry had put a nail in the coffin. My ex-wife also liked to be the centre of attention and I wouldn’t have put it past her to be on the doorstep at ten o’clock on Christmas Day with some ostentatious gift for the son she’d shown no interest in. I’d had a couple of messages from her recently, asking how she was meant to see Luca now I’d moved him so far away. Roughly interpreted, she was pissed off because she wasn’t in control.
“Will Father Christmas have left Clover’s presents at our house?” He’d asked a lot about Clover since we’d set off from Puffin Bay. They’d spoken twice a day and it hadn’t been short conversations either. He’d wanted to see Moonshine, who was his new best friend, and the cat seemed to like Luca a lot more than he liked me. He’d also been upset that he wouldn’t be able to see his school friends on the beach on Christmas Day afternoon when most of them were meeting up when the tide was out, at the same time as the traditional Christmas Day sea swim, which I wasn’t taking part in.
“He will.” We’d bought Clover a bookcase from an antique shop that was just quirky enough for her to love it. I’d also bought her a new dressing gown, or rather two dressing gowns. One for general wear and the other just for when she was with me. “Are you sorry we’re going home now?” I figured I knew the answer to this, otherwise we wouldn’t be in the car.
“I want to see my friends at the beach. And Clover. And Moonshine. And Mia. And Heidi.”
I had a feeling we were about to go through every child in his school.
“Which is great, so you’ll see all those people.” We were making good time driving home, the motorways not as packed as I’d thought they would be.
“Daddy, where will we have Christmas dinner?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought of that.
“Erm, maybe with Clover. Let me phone her and find out.”
She answered after the second ring. “Are you both okay?” She sounded worried.
“Both fine. It was just working out that we’d rather be at home, so we decided to leave now rather than tomorrow. But everything’s fine.” I probably wouldn’t tell her about Sherry. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good. The house feels quiet.”
It was the first time she’d said anything about us not being there.
“I would’ve thought you’d have spent most of your time at Puffin Inn.” Because for the last three weeks, she’d not been there very much, unless she’d gone there while I put Luca to bed. She’d been coming home early, and she’d made it clear why.
“I’ve got years of orgasms to catch up on, Gray,”she’d said, the shortened form of my name a habit now, especially when my head was between her legs.
“I did. It’s been nice, but I’m looking forward to you and Luca being home. I was worried when I got your message. Is Luca there?”
I glanced in my rear view. “He’s asleep. He’s not slept well – his cousin’s awake a lot so I think he’s been woken up a lot and then he’s not gotten back to sleep. Did you find someone to replace me while I’ve been gone?” I surprised myself with that question.
Her laugh was knowing. “I didn’t have time to recruit. Owain’s taken Mrs Bettany to Porthmadog to see his dad for Christmas, so my options were limited. What are you going to do for Christmas dinner?”
“I hadn’t thought about that when we set off. What are you doing? Not that I’m hinting for an invite.” I totally was. And I’d missed her. I probably needed to mention that.
“Amelie’s. It’s the big shindig. You and Luca would be more than welcome and she’ll probably be offended if you don’t come. Listen, I’m going to head over there now. Phone me when you’ve driven over the bridge and I’ll get home for when you do.”
“Will do. Let’s hope I don’t break down on it again.” That would the least perfect ending to a really fucking difficult day. “See you in a few hours.”
I’d just past the sign telling me I was ten miles from the Menai Bridge, the roads pretty much empty because we were now past eight and most people were already where they were spending Christmas Eve. I’d half expected to be fed up of the drive now and wishing I’d stuck it out with my family in Bristol, but instead I was desperate to be home, looking forward to getting back to our house on the bridge and Clover.
When my phone rang over hands free, I didn’t check the caller’s name properly before answering it.
The voice on the other end grated me from the first word.
“I heard you’d left your family on Christmas Eve and taken away my only chance to see my son.”
It was Sherry and she sounded like she was at least four bottles of your finest Sav Blanc into her evening. I had two choices right now: remind her of all the chances she’d had to see him in the last five years and risk her raising her voice and waking him or placating her with the promise of a phone call at her convenience tomorrow which she wouldn’t make because she probably wouldn’t remember this conversation.
A quick glance in the rear view told me Luca was still asleep. A small mercy.
“Sherry, I’m just driving over a bridge and reception isn’t great,” it was a small lie because I wasn’t actually at the bridge yet, but better to ask for forgiveness than permission or however that needed adapting to suit this. “How about you phone me tomorrow and you can have a chat with him?” I wanted to add how it was a while since she’d spoken to him and he might not remember too much about her, but that was too harsh for the amount of sav she’d had.
Another tirade launched over the speakers. I turned the volume down. Prayed Luca didn’t wake up.
“You better not have another woman, Grayson. I’ve said before - ”
I’d heard this many times. It was fine for Sherry to have had affairs and several boyfriends since we’d split, but any sign of me moving on and she became the big sister of the wicked witch of the west. Sherry hated the idea that I’d ever be over her.
I’d dated since we’d divorced, and I definitely hadn’t been celibate, but I hadn’t gotten seriously involved with anyone.
Which made me think of Clover.
“Any idea of what time you’ll call tomorrow?” I interrupted her flow.
“What do you mean, call?”
“So we can arrange when you can see Luca.” This wasn’t the first time I’d said those words. “Maybe you could have him for a couple of days. Have your own Christmas Day together. You know, that’d be really nice. What do you think?”
“Is this so you can have a romantic weekend with your new piece - ”
I made a sound like crackling on a bad line. “Going through bad reception. Call us tomorrow.” Another crackling sound and I ended the call. It was ironic, because in another mile or two, I wouldn’t actually have reception.
Any normal, annoyed person would call straight back, only I knew Sherry too well. She’d check her phone, see something on social media and forget what we’d just said. Tomorrow morning she’d see that she’d called me and send me some strange text with an excuse why she couldn’t remember why she’d phoned. The last time she’d said she’d bumped into my sister who’d told her to give me a call, which Megan had said wasn’t the case.
I turned right off the main road and dropped down towards Puffin Bay, seeing the beam from the lighthouse. This place already felt like home.
And home housed Clover.
I’d missed her. Missed that damn huge cat that hated my very bones.
We didn’t let him in her bedroom when I was there now. He was unpredictable and I had a claw mark in my arse because the little shit had pounced on me just at the point when things were getting critical. That had been the third occasion when I’d made her come.
I decided remembering such things was a stupid idea when I was driving and had my son in the car, plus walking into the house with a semi was maybe not the best thing.
“Wake up, little man.” I spoke loudly, hoping I’d wake him before we got on the drive. Luca was a bugger to wake up. When I did it close up, I’d usually come away with an injury from flailing arms.
He made a noise that wasn’t a sleep one.
“Luca, we’re nearly home.”
“Home?” He was awake. “Back at the bridge house?”
“Back in Puffin Bay.” The words felt like a balm.
“Will Clover be there?” He sat up, trying to see out of the window.
“I think so. We’ll get you inside and have some hot milk. Are you hungry?” We’d stopped for a fast-food dinner on the way home and he hadn’t eaten much.
“Can I have some toast?”
That made me feel better. He’d been off his food since we’d arrived at my parents.
“You can. Toast, hot milk, wash your face - ”
“Brush your teeth.” He giggled, still one of my favourite sounds.
“All of that. Then bedtime and sleep before Santa gets here with your presents.” Because now I could see the lights on the town’s tree and we were driving past Mavis’ garden, a strange mix of festive ornaments looking like the world’s oddest menagerie on her lawn, I was feeling festive.
There was general chatter from him, excitement building, and not a word about Bristol or his mum.
I helped him out of the car, leaving the luggage and presents to bring in until he was in bed. The lights were on, the Christmas tree lit up in the window. Clover would be inside and I was more excited about this than I should be.
The door unlocked with a click and Luca ran inside, calling for her and Moonshine. The cat greeted him like a long lost brother, which only intensified my son’s delight, treating the oversized cat like he was more like a dog.
I saw Clover leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, wearing fleece lined pyjamas with cats all over them. She was barefaced and her hair was wild around her shoulders, her dark eyes filled with amusement.
“Hi.” She smiled at me, her arms folded. “How was the trip?”
Luca realised she was there as well as the cat and leapt up, startling the cat as he ran towards her. “Clover! It’s Christmas Eve! Santa’s coming.”
She scooped him up, hugging him to her. “It is. But he’ll only stop here when he knows everybody’s in bed. Why don’t you go and wash your face, clean your teeth and put your jammies on and get ready?”
He nodded, happy to do whatever she asked him, most of the time.
“I promised him toast and warm milk.” I explained.
Carefully, Clover popped him down, whispering something to him which I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it had him legging it upstairs.
“What was that?” I was curious.
“New PJ’s. I picked them up for him when I knew you were on your way back. What’s happened?”
I gave her a quick, quiet overview of Megan’s interference and how irritated I’d felt while we were there. “It was too soon to go back.”
“You weren’t running from anything though.” She looked puzzled, leading the way into the kitchen and putting on the kettle.
“No, but since being here it’s felt like we’ve escaped something. I didn’t want the fear of seeing Sherry or her turning up, not that I thought she would. She called about twenty minutes ago when we driving here.” There was another quick catch up before footsteps announced Luca’s arrival.
I started laughing when I saw him. He too was wearing cat pyjamas, the cats on them all looking like Moonshine, only wearing a Christmas hat and other decorations.
I squinted at them. “Is that Moonshine or just a cat that looks like him?”
“It’s Moonshine. I had them made. There’s a set for you too.” Her eyes danced with enjoyment knowing how much I would not want to wear them.
Luca jumped up at me and I wondered exactly how late he was going to fall asleep. “Put them on, Dad! We’ll all match.”
“Moonshine will kind of match too.” That smile of hers was far too sweet. The deadly kind of sweet that was laced with arsenic.
“How?”
She poured the kettle. I pulled out a pan and put some milk in to heat up.
“I’ll show you while the tea’s brewing.” I watched her leave the kitchen, her ass hugged nicely by the pyjamas, even if they did have Moonshine all over them.
He definitely wasn’t the pussy I was interested in.
She was back seconds later, holding a plush cat bed.
I stared at it, unbelieving for moment.
“He thinks it’s an early Christmas present from you.”
I shook my head. “Really?”
“Really. He’s going to sleep on your bed tonight to say thank you.” She traced a finger around one of the images on the cat bed.
Luca was laughing. “Daddy! Moonshine’s got your face on his bed! That’s funny.”
The beast himself entered the kitchen and headed straight for me, rubbing against my legs and purring. This was the friendliest he’d ever been with me.
“I think he’s missed you,” Clover said.
I disagreed. Especially when he decided to use my leg as a scratching post.
It took until just after ten to get Luca in bed. Luckily, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out for the count, which meant we brought the contents of a grotto into the house before the rain started.
Clover helped, braving the outdoors in those fucking terrible cat pyjamas. There’d been no sign from her that we were anything other than boss and employee, which was throwing me off balance, even though with Luca around, that was the way it should’ve been anyway.
The door locked, no sign of an awake child from upstairs, and the suitcase with my stuff in upstairs and most of it away meant I could head into the lounge with a whisky and hopefully Clover.
She was in there, the fire lit and flames roaring, her feet curled under her as she read a book entitled Ghost Stories.
“Hey.” I sat down on the other sofa, not sure whether she wanted me next to her or not. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to get last orders at the inn.” I’d fully expected her to go there in those cat pyjamas too.
She put her book down and stretched out her legs, shaking her hair so it fell down her back.
“I’m good here. I’ve pretty much lived there the last two nights while you’ve been away.” She waggled her toes in front of the fire.
“You’ve missed us then?” I couldn’t understand how badly I wanted her to say yes.
She laughed quietly. “I’ve never stayed in a house as big as this with no one else in it, so yes, I missed you and Luca. Was Bristol really that bad?”
I shrugged. “Probably not. Everyone’s family can be hard work, I know, and I’m lucky to have them on the whole, but I wanted to be back here and Luca was too quiet. I think he was homesick.”
“So you missed me too? Well, I can understand that.” She smiled wickedly. “How could you not?” She pointed to Moonshine on her pyjamas.
“My cat loving, book nerdish, reads while sat drinking tea at a bar, nanny? Yeah, I missed her.” I felt like a rock about to be battered by a wave saying that. Completely exposed.
“I celebrate the word ”nerd” and approve any sentence that has the words ”book” and ”read” in it. I’ve read four books while you were gone and finished edits on that novel I was going through that was driving me mad.” She tucked her legs back under her.
I’d heard her rant more than a couple of times about it. An awkward author and a too-soon deadline were her version of a winter vomiting bug. “That’s good. Was he pleased?”
“Overwhelmed. Asked me if I’d like to accompany him on a winter trip to Barbados.” She picked up her book again. “We’d fly out the day after Boxing Day.”
I felt my face turned to stone. “Really?”
She nodded. “We’ve been video calling two or three times a day. Going through edits line by line.”
I had a feeling she was yanking my chain. “So you’re taking him up on this offer to go to the Caribbean?”
“Absolutely. It’s such an opportunity. And he really is a gentleman – at least on the surface.” Her smile reminded me of a cat before it ate its prey.
I was definitely that prey. “What was his name?”
“Gethin O’Malley. He’s an Irish writer. Touted to the win the big literary prize with the book he published last year.”
I pulled out my phone and searched him. As I suspected, he was about seventy, or he looked seventy.
“This is who you’re going on holiday with?” I held the screen up for her to see. “Really?”
The smile bloomed.
The tightness in my chest popped.
The next thing I knew she was lying on her back on the sofa and I was on top of her, her hair splayed out around her, her eyes looking up at me with playfulness that morphed into something else.
My phone was on the floor. My son was upstairs in bed, hopefully fast asleep or at least keeping his eyes closed in case Santa saw him open them.
And the cat was in the fucking tree.
I sat up, attention grabbed by the little care-eliciting beast. Little was the wrong word.
“Clover, does he think he’s the fucking fairy or something?”
She propped herself up and looked over at the tree. An ornament swung precariously at the top.
“He thinks he’s a leopard. He’s spent a few hours up there each night.” She was perfectly calm. “He won’t knock it over unless you startle him and he leaps out.”
I had a habit of startling Moonshine. This did not bode well.
“He’s staring at me.” This was how it felt to be under the gaze of big cat.
“He’s probably wondering why you’re on top of me.” Her hands landed on my back. “I should tell you I haven’t had an orgasm since you left. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.”
“I feel really good about it.” My attention was back on her although I could still feel cat eyes boring into me. “Maybe I can help you resolve that situation.”
“Maybe we could resolve it a different way tonight?” Her fingers trailed along the waistband to my jeans, pulling on the belt.
A miaow, pitiful in its tone, followed by the jingling of bells had me turning round at the speed of sound.
The tree shook precariously but didn’t topple. Moonshine, who looked like he’d had a growth spurt in the last couple of days sat in the middle of the room and stared at me.
“He wants you to pet him.” Clover sat up, now more focused on the cat than me, which was something else to piss me off. “I think he just wants some attention from you so he feels accepted. You’re not very warm with him.”
I held out a hand and made a chuching noise.
Moonshine sat there staring at me. His tail swished.
“Come here, Moonshine. Let’s a have a tickle.”
More staring. Clover was laughing.
This wasn’t going to plan.
“Come on, boy. We can be friends.”
He stood up. Stretched. Then turned around with his tail upright and showed me his arse.
Why wasn’t I surprised?