Chapter 9
The next morning, Matteo and I wake early to catch the sunrise.
I rub my eyes, yawning, and follow him to the window.
The moon is bright and high in the starry sky with the faintest orange glow emerging on the horizon.
He stretches an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.
Without a word, he leans down to kiss the side of my head.
‘I’m sorry about everyone disappearing off before the end of dinner,’ I tell him.
He gazes at me with those dark, astute eyes and blinks slowly. ‘Like I said last night, none of this is your fault. Besides…’ To my great relief, a smile hovers on his lips. ‘I’m expecting a lot worse to come before the week’s over.’
Oh. My. God. He gets me. He gets all of us.
Me, the Dollz, Ged and Liam. We’re all hot messes right now…
and he gets it. I sigh contentedly, glancing around the room at all the tasteful Christmas décor.
Even the curtains are a rich crimson and green tartan to match the cushions and throw on the love seat at the end of our bed.
There’s a real fir tree standing in the corner of our room with gift-wrapped pretend presents on display underneath.
Red and green festive throws are strewn everywhere, stockings are hanging from the bedpost while vases with sprigs of mistletoe and pine cones and bowls of festive-smelling potpourri adorn every surface.
‘This place is magical.’ I hold up my left hand to admire my wedding ring. It shines against my skin in the dim light.
‘This might be my favourite Christmas,’ Matteo says. ‘Apart from the year I got my first skateboard. That was also the year I had my first broken elbow. My first broken rib a few months later followed by my first serious concussion. Santa never brought any skateboards after that.’
‘Your mum must have been a saint to let you keep it so long.’ I chuckle. ‘What was it like growing up between two cultures, two different ways of celebrating Christmas?’
‘I was quite young when my dad left and my mother took me back with her to Spain but I had the best of both worlds. In Spain it was more religious and family-orientated especially when she remarried and had Nacho. In England, it was always more commercial. What was your best Christmas?’
‘Me, Mum and Dad went to New York and took a carriage, like a Santa sleigh ride, right round Central Park and it started to snow. It was so magical.’ I close my eyes. ‘Sometimes I can still feel her arms around me.’
He hugs me closer.
‘This is my first Christmas away from home. It’s all still a bit unreal.’
Matteo nods in understanding.
‘At least my dad and Madge are coming to the wedding. So, I’ll get a chance to spend some time with him then. And then it’ll be my turn to meet your family.’
Matteo kisses my head again. ‘It’s my first Christmas not being at home too.’
A sinking feeling gnaws at my stomach. ‘And were they all okay about you not going home for Christmas?’
He hesitates. ‘Sure.’
‘I hope your mum wasn’t too upset that we got married without them in Vegas.
’ He hasn’t quite said but I think if it was my mother she’d be livid and distraught in equal measure if I ran off and got married without her.
Even though it all happened relatively by accident, I’m not sure even my mother would be as accepting as my father was.
Matteo runs a hand through his hair. He must know that I can see he is avoiding answering the question, again. ‘She’s throwing a party on Los Reyes night, to introduce you to the whole family. Most of them don’t speak English but they’re flying in especially.’
Oh. I try to keep the unwelcome surprise from my face.
Matteo has already explained all about the importance of the Fiesta de Los Reyes on the twelfth day of Christmas.
It’s when Spanish families exchange their gifts and do all the family stuff.
It’s basically a bigger deal than Christmas Day itself, never mind ripping everyone from their comfortable, warm homes to come to a party just to meet me.
Besides, I’m still getting used to being Matteo’s wife myself.
I could really do without the Spanish Inquisition, as it were.
I smile weakly back. ‘Fine. I’d love to meet them.’ As long as it’s not a lynch mob. ‘I was actually thinking that I’d like to buy my new mother-in-law a gift. Something really special. Do you have any idea of what she might like?’
He shakes his head. ‘You don’t have to do that. She won’t expect anything from you.’
‘Well, I’d like to. Especially as we’ll be jetting back to LA afterwards. She’ll hardly see us. Neither will my dad.’
In the moonlight, his face is full of compassion. ‘About the move. I want you to be absolutely sure… because if you aren’t, you know you can tell me, right?’
I swallow hard. I so desperately want to be sure.
I do. I really do. It’s just… it’s just such a huge move and such a lot for my dad to deal with.
First, he loses the love of his life. Then he loses me, his only daughter.
But what’s the alternative? Me and Matteo living separate lives?
Him over there in the land of endless leggy, Botoxed beauties and me in the UK nursing my endless, unsubstantiated anxieties? I nod, forcing a smile.
‘Come on.’ He tugs me away from the window. I wonder if he, too, feels any trepidation. ‘Let’s talk properly after the sunrise. My mother has had an idea that I need to discuss with you.’
‘Something to do with the party?’ Maybe she wants to postpone or, even better, cancel. ‘Because if she wants to rethink it then that’s totally fine with me. We can do a small get-together after the New Year. Just immediate family, casual, you know… instead of a big fuss.’
Matteo smiles blankly as he holds the door open for me.
An apprehensive sensation swirls in the pit of my stomach. I can’t help sensing that he is holding something back.
Minutes later, I’ve made the tactical decision to put my worries to the back of my mind, we’ve thrown on sweatpants and T-shirts (he’s managed to look effortlessly sexy while I look like I’m fleeing an illegal squat) and we’re skipping down the steps of the chateau’s main entrance just as dawn is breaking and the first rays of sunlight are piercing the sky.
A taxi draws up in front of us, its tyres crunching quietly on the gravel. It’s not light enough to see through the taxi windows as it slows down and I’m surprised when it doesn’t stop but continues round to the side of the building instead.
‘Must be staff,’ says Matteo, frowning. ‘Only the family use that way in.’ He points to the grand, elegant wing of the chateau.
‘Don’t the staff live in?’ I ask, a nagging worry tugging at my brain. ‘I’m sure you said that was why they agreed to stay and help us over Christmas.’
Matteo tilts his head. ‘Yes. You’re right.’ He shrugs. ‘It’s probably nothing. A delivery or something.’
An uneasy feeling swirls in the pit of my stomach as I slip my hand in his. A fear that I have held at bay since the moment I asked Matteo to call in this huge favour. I am dying to peek around the corner to see who is arriving unannounced and yet at the same time…
We stroll through the gardens, the crisp air biting at our cheeks, the smell of pine in our nostrils, and apart from the birds tweeting, it’s totally silent.
It couldn’t be more romantic. We reach the spectacular viewing balcony that overhangs the ravine.
The forest sweeps down to the bay below, the boats becoming visible as the sun grows stronger, dancing on the water and bouncing off the sails.
My stomach flutters as Matteo blinks slowly and opens his mouth to speak.
His tone is velvety smooth yet borderline shy, which is enormously attractive.
As are the tiny red spots appearing on his cheeks.
‘Connie.’ He swallows. ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to—’
‘CLEEEEEEEEM! Get back here right now!’ bellows Cherry’s husband, Dom, causing us to leap a mile.
We hear Clementine giggling, but we can’t see her.
Dom is charging around the gardens in a frantic manner, his dressing gown flapping, his head swivelling back and forth.
‘I mean it! There’ll be no more Greggs if you don’t come out! ’
We hear another muffled giggle.
‘We know it was you, Clem. Mummy is furious. She slipped on it during the night and now she’s trodden it all over the bedroom carpet. It’ll never come out.’
A nearby bush rustles and we watch Dom dart towards it, dive into the foliage and yank out Clementine, dressed in a full-length white Victorian-style nightgown.
Her long, tangled hair is covered with leaves and she is grinning from ear to ear as she wraps her legs around his waist, flinging her arms tight around his neck.
‘It wasn’t me. I told you, Daddy. It was the puppy. ’
Dom rolls his eyes in a resigned manner.
‘We don’t have a puppy. Now let’s go and find your sister.
Please tell me where she is hiding before Mummy wakes up and goes ballistic.
We’ll all be in the doghouse if she thinks I’ve lost you both again.
’ Neither of them notices me or Matteo standing open-mouthed as they scamper off back to the chateau.
I wrap my arms around myself and shiver. ‘Christ. Cherry and Dom make parenting look about as easy as nuclear physics. What were you about to ask me?’
Matteo shakes his head. ‘It can wait. It can definitely wait.’ He frowns. ‘Jesus. Do you think they’ve ruined the carpet?’