Holly's Christmas Kiss by Alison May Read Free Book Online Page A

his hand on top of hers. ‘I’m sorry …’
    ‘I’m fine. They split up years ago.’ She pulled her hand quickly away. ‘I should clear these things away.’
    ‘I can do it.’
    ‘Right.’ Michelle stopped half standing, half leaning over the table. ‘I might go and er … could I take a shower?’
    ‘Sure. Through the bedroom at the end of the hall.’ He pointed to an archway beyond the lounge area.              
    Michelle strode down the hallway and found her case already sitting on the bed in the spare room. What was she doing, telling a virtual stranger about her personal life? This Christmas, she reminded herself, was about her independence.
    The shower was excellent, not like the spluttery electric thing in her own flat. The water rushed over her body and numbed her sight and hearing, forcing her further into her own thoughts. She found herself back at her Auntie Barb’s house, ensconced in the kitchen, as she and her mother generally were in the weeks after Dad’s affair had been revealed. She remembered sitting on a high stool, with Dolly gripped tightly in her hand, watching her mother and her aunt making fairy cakes and biscuits, stews and pies, quich e– which Barbara insisted on calling fla n– and sauces. She had seen how nothing was wasted. Tonight’s leftovers were tomorrow’s lunchtime soup.
    Michelle stood under the shower, and relived all those moments. Time and time again she’d seen her mother proved right. Relying on other people left you in a mess. She’d seen clients who’d happily doled out cash to other halves who’d sworn blind they were going to use it to pay the council tax or the electric, and then been left alone, in debt and with threats of disconnection hanging over their heads. She’d seen countless friends through countless break-ups wh o all told the same story. They trusted him. They loved him. They thought he loved them. Michelle shook her head to clear her thoughts. Let other people make those mistakes. She’d been taught, by her mum, how to get along on her own.
    And then she remembered watching Auntie Barb feeding the Christmas cake, pushing a skewer deep into the mixture and pouring a little brandy into each hole. Michelle paused on that memory for a secon d– revisiting the rich smell, and the sound of Auntie Barb’s laughter when Michelle had poured far too much brandy. That must have been when she still thought they’d be going home to Daddy for Christmas. She remembered something else. Her mother standing in the corner of the kitchen, dabbing her eyes, refusing to join in with even the tiniest preparation for the festive season.
    One final, more recent, memory snuck in uninvited. A single moment under a sprig of mistletoe. She stepped out of the shower, busying herself wrapping her hair and body in towels to distract from the unwelcome thought. She padded into the bedroom, to hear her phone buzzing in the pocket of her jeans. She fished it out. Jess’s name was flashing on the screen. Maybe she’d changed her mind about having a best friend to stay for Christmas. With relief, Michelle swiped the screen to answer the call.
    ‘Hi.’
    ‘What am I going to do?’ Jess’s voice screeched down the phone.
    Michelle pulled her towel tight around her and sat down on the bed. ‘About what?’
    ‘Patrick’s present! It hasn’t come yet.’
    ‘Right.’ Michelle didn’t respond for a second before she forced herself to swallow her irritation. Jess needed her help, and helping each other out was what friends did. ‘What were you getting him?’
    She listened as Jess explained about the website, the perfect gift, and the unfortunately missed delivery man. Michelle made suggestions about contacting the warehouse, and failing that about making Patrick a ‘voucher’ for his perfect gift to open on Christmas Day. With her friend calmed, she relaxed a little; it was nice to have a few minutes to catch up with Jess after the excitement of the