Chapter 22
“T he plot thickens, eh?” Jenny spoke through the video call. From where she’d positioned the phone a metre or so away, Millie could see she was sat on the floor of her living room, baby Leo sprawled on his tummy on a mat. A horseshoe shaped cushion was wedged under his chest and his little head kept lifting in the air for a few moments before dropping back down.
“He’s getting stronger! Look at him holding his head up!” Millie exclaimed, feeling a swell of love, pride and, to her disdain, envy course through her.
“He absolutely is BUT we’re talking about you and your snogging escapades,” Jenny countered, and Millie screwed up her nose.
“I hate that word,” she replied. Jenny frowned.
“Escapades?”
“No! Snogging ,” she explained, miming gagging. “It’s so coarse.”
“Well, coarse it may be, but you clearly don’t mind doing it,” Jenny said, putting down the rattling lion toy she had been holding and gently lifting Leo onto her shoulder.
Millie sighed – she knew she shouldn’t have mentioned anything to Jenny. She’d always had a habit of clinging onto moments in Millie’s life and making them out to be more than they were. When Millie wrongly received a detention, Jenny led a protest to the teacher. Millie was overcharged in a coffee shop, Jenny walked right back in and demanded to see the till receipts. Millie was cheated on by her boyfriend; Jenny threatened to kill him and dissolve his body in acid…the theme is a recurring one.
The truth was, Millie wasn’t sure what the kiss had meant. It had happened what felt so suddenly and as soon as he’d pulled away, she had desperately wanted to lean in for more, but her mind was screaming at her not to. It was a shame that her mind hadn’t been clearer as to the reason why it didn’t want her to. Alfie had said nothing, simply smiled at her and gently lowered his hand from where it had been nestling behind her head. She’d made her excuses and left shortly after. They hadn’t exchanged messages since; who knew when their next encounter would be?
“I guess it was nice, whilst it was happening,” Millie pondered on Jenny’s last comment. “I’m just not sure where I see it going.” Jenny frowned.
“Why do you have to worry about that right now?” she asked, with a quizzical expression. “Just enjoy it for what it is. You spent far too long faffing around with Sam at the beginning and look where that got you. Stop thinking about the future.” Harsh, Millie thought, but fair. Maybe she needed to think less about the future and live more in the now? Yet, it had started to click in her brain exactly why she felt reluctant to pursue anything with Alfie, or anyone else, for that matter.
“Mils?” Jenny questioned, a concerned look on her face. “You look weird.”
“Cheers,” Millie feigned insult. “Look, I’m going to have to go, Jen.”
“No problem. I think Leo needs a nappy change, based on the sudden smell that has entered my nose. Vile,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “Before you go…what’re your plans for Christmas?” Millie rolled her eyes.
“What is everyone’s obsession with me and Christmas? I’m not celebrating it this year. I’ll be spending it alone, probably inebriated, in my home. A-l-o-n-e,” she spelled out. Jenny exhaled.
“Jeeeez. Ok?! I was just asking because Paul and I had been chatting and we’d love to invite you to come spend it with us this year. You know, if you want? We decided before Leo was even born that we’d see our respective families either side of Christmas and spend the actual day just us three. BUT, we both agreed we’d make an exception for Leo’s Auntie Millbobs.” Millie’s eyes threatened tears but she sniffed them away quickly. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
“Look, don’t worry about a reply now. I totally get it if you want to spend it alone or whatever. Just know, the invitation is there, and we’d love to have you.” Millie nodded slowly and Jenny smiled weakly. “Just give me a few days’ notice, so I can get the extra wine in, you know?” she added and they both burst out laughing.
* * *
The sunrise was just phenomenal that morning, the perfect start to an otherwise anxious Monday. Alfie had been out on the coast path before even the smallest ray of light had broken, stomping the crumbly ground, torch in hand. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to doing but had woken up with an urge to get out of bed and shake off the night before in fresh air.
He’d been working on a commission when the phone had rung. It was the very early stages of the piece, which he’d been asked to complete by a woman called Trina who ran her own complementary therapies business. She had handed him a photograph of a commonly known landscape in Monument Valley, Utah and asked him if he could paint it. (She had visited there when travelling years ago and knew she wanted it hanging in her studio.) He’d agreed, keen to turn his hand to something other than coastline and water for a change and he’d been sketching out the base of the painting. It was surprising how much detail you could get into what was essentially a couple of enormous rocks.
Just as he was about to consider mixing up some paints and giving it a go, his mobile vibrated across the kitchen counter. Annoyed at the distraction, he felt his heart sink when he saw the name. Dana. He hadn’t seen her properly for a couple of weeks now due to her being away for work and then on a week’s holiday in Ibiza with friends. They’d had minimal contact, but he had looked up her Instagram account a few days ago through pure curiosity: it was full of posed pictures of her and her friends. On the plane wearing an enormous pair of sunglasses, her long hair curled perfectly down to her waist. Laying by the pool in a miniscule swimsuit, which surely would leave the most ridiculous tan line (though he knew she fake tanned anyway, so that would surely even it out). Out in a club in a tiny, black mini dress. She looked model gorgeous and judging by the number of men surrounding her in the pictures, it was clear others thought so too.
He’d often wondered exactly what she saw in him . He wasn’t going to be self-deprecating as far as saying he was ugly or anything, but he certainly wasn’t anything outstanding. Plus, he lived in a tiny village which would have been better placed thirty years in the past, with its minimal phone and internet signal, singular shop and one road in, one road out vibe. It didn’t compliment Dana’s party lifestyle one bit.
He'd met Dana on a night out in Truro around a year ago, just after an anniversary of his mum’s passing and he was incredibly fragile and vulnerable. He and the gang had booked a budget hotel in the small city to come back to after a night of drinking and partying, to provide somewhat of a distraction to the monotony of grief he had been experiencing. Not his idea by any stretch but he’d gone along with it anyway. Whilst out in a particularly sticky, grubby bar he’d bumped into Dana, and she’d immediately made it clear she had no intention of letting him go back to his room alone that night. After spending the night together Alfie discovered, through pure coincidence (or fate, as Dana called it) that her parents lived in Cornwall too, causing the relationship to continue from there. He hadn’t once agreed to anything official, and Dana had this constant on-again, off-again attitude which was both unpredictable and sincerely irritating. But for the majority of the time, she’d disappeared, and he was alone, quite happily so, with no desire to be with anyone else. And so, it hadn’t mattered.
It hadn’t really mattered until Millie came along.
He paused on the path, looking back over his shoulder, gazing wistfully at the incredible break in the sky; powder blues, soft pinks and hints of yellow permeated the horizon and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He kept replaying the conversation in his head. Dana was handing him an ultimatum. She wanted him to move up to Manchester or they’d call it quits. He’d never heard her so defiant before and wondered what had changed. She insisted she wanted to be serious with him, and did he have a reason why not?
What he should have said was “yes, and she’s called Millie Jones.” But those words didn’t come out of his mouth. Instead, he explained he wanted to chat in person with her about it first – he owed her that much to break it off face to face. But somehow, she had taken that as a hard “yes, let’s move in together” and squealed excitedly down the phone. Before hanging up, she’d said she would be back before Christmas and that they would travel up north and spend their first Christmas together in “their” new home. He hadn’t yet rung the gang – who he’d planned to spend Christmas Day with – he hadn’t rung anyone. He’d barely had time to contemplate what had happened.
And most importantly of all, he hadn’t heard from Millie. The kiss they’d shared after their art class a few days prior hadn’t been mentioned again, yet it was all he’d been able to think about since (well, until this phone call had invaded all his thought space). It had felt so incredibly… right. This girl who he’d known only for a few months, and even some of those had been strained because he couldn’t function socially. She’d kissed him back and it had been the most emotionally lifting, gentle and deeply felt kiss he’d ever had. Kisses with Dana hadn’t even come close. He wondered why him and Millie hadn’t exchanged messages since, and he realised it was because he wasn’t sure if the kiss was just a one-off or the gateway to something more. He knew he wanted it to be, but this situation now with Dana was causing complications beyond his reach. Damn. He needed to speak to Millie first, see where her feelings lay. And then he needed to speak to Dana. But he’d have to be quick because Dana was back at the end of that week. It didn’t give him much time to figure out what he was going to say. But this felt like the kick he’d needed, to force him into breaking it off, once and for all. It didn’t matter whether they were serious or not, Dana deserved more than being with someone who was with someone else.
With a final long look at the beautiful scenery in front of him, he headed back.