Chapter 16

16

Bess told herself she'd get used to it, having someone in her home. She told herself to think of the money because with the extra pounds coming in, she could allay some of the worry.

She'd made the decision to rent out her spare room after talking it through with Maya the evening Maya insisted they go to her place and wouldn't take no for an answer.

‘I've been thinking…' Maya had said as she served up the pasta dish. ‘Isaac struggled to find a student house for this academic year and we were almost at the point of renting a spare room, anywhere, in a family home, whatever it took.' Isaac was Maya's son, who was at university in Scotland.

‘Are you suggesting I take in a lodger?'

‘Why not? You have a lovely spare room – I should know; I've stayed in it a couple of times after the pub. And you don't have many guests as your friends and your mum are local. You wouldn't have to do it forever, but you could make a few hundred quid a month, enough to top up your income and get you on top of things.'

That day, Bess's initial reaction was no way but then an image of those bills piled one on top of the other had come into her head and she'd changed her mind.

But now Marianne had only been living here for just over a week and Bess was struggling. It didn't help that Bess's shifts had been confined to days, which meant that she only had an hour of quiet before Marianne got home.

It wasn't Marianne herself that was the problem; it was more that Bess liked a bit of space. As sociable as she was at work, even she needed her alone time and she missed it. Which made her feel terrible because Marianne was trying her best.

And so was Gio. He called his mum every day; Bess often caught the tail end of conversations and had to admit she was beginning to see a deeper side to him, a man with heart, a man with soul.

Marianne's humming carried down the stairs as Bess cooked dinner but she bit back the temptation to call up to ask her to be quiet. Tolerance was something she had to learn and Marianne was pulling her weight in the house. This morning, she'd cleaned the bathroom and done a way better job than Bess ever had, and before Bess could stop her, she'd vacuumed the hallway, stairs and then the landing. She'd claimed she could do cleaning in half the time of anyone else given it was her profession.

And so Bess had insisted she cook for them both this evening seeing as it was Christmas Eve and neither of them had other plans. She pulled out ingredients and before too long, Marianne joined her in the kitchen. Beyond the window, they had what looked like very fine snowfall that had no hope of settling but looked inviting nevertheless.

‘I've left my mobile at Gio's,' Marianne grumbled. ‘He'll drop it over in a few hours, he said. If that's all right?'

‘Of course it is. You don't need to ask.' She was sure her voice had gone up an octave, giving away her not-so-platonic feelings towards him, but if it had, Marianne hadn't noticed.

Marianne leaned up against the counter as Bess washed a big handful of green beans. ‘May I ask a personal question?' She paused. ‘It might be none of my business…'

‘But…'

‘I wondered whether maybe you're Jewish or a Jehovah's Witness.'

Bess dropped the beans into the colander in the sink. ‘Neither.'

‘But you don't have a Christmas tree.'

And now she felt like a crap landlady. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't think. I don't usually bother because my mum has a tree and I'm usually with her, or I'm at work where they have loads of festive cheer.'

‘You sound like Gio; he always says he's either working or can enjoy a tree at the pub or elsewhere.'

Bess felt terrible. ‘I apologise, Marianne.'

‘No, it's fine. I don't usually have one either. I was just curious.'

Bess turned on the tap and showered the green beans, rinsing them off.

And then she stopped the flow of water, dried her hands, threw down the tea towel. ‘Come on.' She picked up her car keys.

‘What are you doing?'

‘Let's go see if we can find a tree.'

‘But it's Christmas Eve,' said Marianne with a hint of childlike mischief that suggested she was all in with this.

And both of them lit up with glee when they nabbed the very last Fraser fir, reduced in price but no less stunning, from outside the nearest supermarket.

‘Dinner first, we'll decorate later,' Bess instructed as soon as they got back to the house. They'd hauled the tree out of the car and left it in the lounge in the stand it had been sold in. Later, they would crown it in its full Christmas glory.

‘Good idea, I'm hungry.'

Marianne set the table while Bess continued the prep for the meal and got going with the cooking.

‘Can't believe we got the last tree.' Bess grinned, suddenly glad she had one. ‘What a stroke of luck.'

‘It's a stunner for sure. Now it feels more like Christmas; I can smell it from here, even with the dinner cooking.'

As Marianne folded over a couple of napkins, she told Bess that Gio was making the Christmas dinner tomorrow. ‘He'll do a better job than I ever did, I'm sure.'

Gio cooked? He hadn't done much of that in their shared house. But Gio Mayhan was going up in Bess's estimations all the time and the thought tickled her. ‘Lucky you.'

The lamb cutlets were soon sizzling in the pan, the potatoes simmering, the greens waiting to be plunged into water.

‘I had hoped Marco and my grandkids might come for Christmas but Marco has to work,' Marianne went on. ‘He's a firefighter too.'

Bess stirred the mint sauce she'd prepared and set it on the table. ‘It's a job much like mine that continues 365 days of the year. I had today off but I'll be back in tomorrow, Boxing Day and the day after.'

‘Don't you hate it? Lord knows I didn't give enough of myself over the years on a day that is supposed to be for family, but I want to now. Don't you wish you could be with yours?'

‘Actually, I don't mind working over Christmas, as strange as it may sound. It feels good to be there for others.' And Christmas had never been the same since her dad died anyway. This year, knowing Bess was working, her mum had Malcolm coming over but had promised Bess that the pair of them would do a belated Christmas Day with all the trimmings once Bess had time off.

Bess served the lamb cutlets along with buttery, herbed new potatoes and fresh greens and took the plates over to the table. But she soon leapt up again.

‘I almost forgot! It's Christmas Eve, so… what do you fancy? I have red wine to go perfectly with cutlets.' She pulled open the cupboard where it was kept before moving on to another. ‘Or… I think I have a bottle of Prosecco at the back of this cupboard…' She reached in and standing on tiptoes, managed to grab a hold of the glass bottle's body.

‘I'll pop this in the freezer,' she said. ‘It won't take long to chill.'

Bess had had both bottles of alcohol for a while; she didn't often drink at home. Her drinks usually happened at the pub when what she was craving more than a beverage was the company.

Marianne picked up the jug of mint sauce and added some to her plate, eyes not leaving the dinner. ‘Not for me, thank you.'

‘You sure?'

‘Completely sure.'

Bess shrugged. She considered pouring herself a glass but drinking alone wasn't quite as attractive as having company, so she left the Prosecco and the bottle of red where they were. ‘I won't either. Probably better seeing as I have work tomorrow.'

‘I admire you all, you know. You, Gio, Marco. You all do such a wonderful job, saving lives, putting your own at risk.'

‘Gio is missing it a lot.' She sliced into a piece of lamb.

‘He's like a bear with a sore head some days. '

‘I don't doubt it.'

‘This lamb is so tender; it's delicious.' Marianne speared another piece onto her fork. ‘You're a good cook. I'm terrible.'

‘Not true, you've been cooking dinners for Gio, I hear.'

‘Basic stuff any moron could plonk in the oven or in a pan.'

‘You're selling yourself short.'

‘You know what I'd really like to do?' Marianne asked between mouthfuls. ‘I'd like to cook my boys a belated Christmas dinner. When Marco and my grandkids finally come to visit, I want to do the boys and them a turkey, the full works.'

‘That sounds like a lovely idea. I'd be happy to give you some tips if you need me to.'

‘Could you teach me how to do a Christmas dinner? I've done a few over the years but not for some time; I'm not the best.'

‘I'd love to help you out. I'm working for a few days, I'll need to see when I'm at Mum's for our belated Christmas, but we'll definitely pick a day and do some cooking.'

It felt good to help, it mattered, and Bess knew it was partly her burgeoning friendship with Marianne but also how much she wanted things to go right for Gio.

They chatted over their meal, the constant conversation something else Bess was getting used to. She was a talker in her own right but sometimes, she yearned to zone out and hadn't realised how much she needed to until she had someone living with her. She'd come to realise the best place to zone out was in her bedroom. Marianne seemed to respect the boundaries of the bedroom door and likewise, Bess did the same. It took Bess back to her student days: your bedroom your only sanctuary and everywhere else sheer bedlam with noise and bodies lazing about everywhere.

Marianne caught sight of some of the items pinned to Bess's pinboard behind the counter. She pointed to the photo of Bess taken next to some stunning, ultramodern architecture. ‘Where's that?'

‘Dubai.'

‘It looks hot.'

Bess had a long-sleeved, floaty dress on, her curls pinned up, her cheeks pink. ‘It was. I'd give anything for a bit of hot weather right now.'

‘I love the sunshine too. Never been as far as Dubai, mind you, but I'm not a winter person.'

‘I actually love the seasons. And winter has its perks, like when the frost glistens on the rooftops, when you're all bundled up beneath clear blue skies and the sun is so bright, it bounces off the ground.'

Marianne smiled. ‘A friend of mine went to Lapland once, saw Santa. She says that was for her daughter's benefit but I'm no fool.'

‘I'd love it too. It wouldn't matter whether I was five or fifty. I'd try snow shoeing, or ride on the back of a sled pulled by huskies. Can you imagine?'

‘I think I've a long way to go before I have enough money for anything quite as fancy.'

And crashing back to reality, Bess realised she probably did too.

‘When the boys were young, we'd take them to Norfolk.' Marianne smiled with her whole face. ‘We'd head right up the coast. The boys would swim in the sea, eat fish and chip suppers, exhaust themselves. I remember the salty tingle on my skin and theirs.' She gulped and Bess didn't miss the enthusiasm wane. ‘I miss those days.'

‘What was Gio like as a boy?'

‘Cheeky.' Bess laughed at that. He hadn't changed. ‘Sensitive too, although he hid it well. His brother Marco was much the same; they're rather similar.' She met Bess's gaze. ‘I've made some mistakes as their mother; I have a lot of regrets.'

‘Gio seems to want you around.'

‘He was always more lenient on me compared to Marco. Can't blame Marco, though; he was the parent to Gio for years when neither me nor the boys' father were capable.'

Bess didn't pry, she didn't ask for details. Given her friendship with Gio, it felt like a betrayal to find anything out about his past unless it came from him.

Gio showed up while Bess and Marianne were upstairs finding the Christmas ornaments stashed in the very top of the wardrobe in Bess's bedroom. Shoved right to the back, they had easily been forgotten about.

When he handed over Marianne's phone, Bess urged him to come in.

‘You sure?' A car was waiting for him at the kerb.

‘Of course.'

‘I'll tell my mate.'

‘I'll do it,' said Marianne, zipping past them and out to the car.

Gio gave the driver a wave. ‘A mate from the station came to see me and offered me a lift round to save me the taxi fare or trying to get myself on and off a bus.'

When he stepped inside, his gaze didn't leave Bess's, his eyes watching her every move. ‘Something smells good.'

‘All Bess,' Marianne announced before recounting exactly what she'd served up tonight. She made it sound more like cordon bleu cooking than a simple meal for two.

‘Fancy helping us with the Christmas tree?' Bess beamed at him if only to break the tension between them. There was definitely more than friendship in the air tonight.

‘You've left it late.' The teasing note in his voice did little to defuse the crackle of intimacy Bess was beginning to yearn for every time they were close.

‘We picked it up a couple of hours ago.'

They barely heard Marianne say that she'd leave them to it while she cleared up the kitchen.

‘Come on then,' he said and when her eyes fell to his knee, added, ‘I'm not useless. I can hobble around a tree and put a few ornaments on.'

‘We'll start with the lights.'

He pulled a face. ‘I should've pretended I couldn't manage. Hate doing the lights.'

But between them, the lights were strung in no time.

‘You need a break.' She spotted his discomfort after they'd circled the tree a few times and he'd bent down to flip the switch to illuminate the tree, making it easier to make adjustments to ensure that the twinkling was evenly spaced.

‘Yes, ma'am.'

‘We'll carry on in a bit. Let me see if I can help your mum finish the cleaning up.' She'd shooed her out of the kitchen twice already and told Bess she was happy to do it all.

Bess came back to the lounge with two cans of Coke and handed one over to Gio.

‘Don't tell me, she told you to go away again?' He grinned.

‘She's in her element in there.'

‘You could be right.' He clinked his open can of drink against hers. ‘I took her to see the Christmas lights, you know.'

‘She mentioned it; she told me how she often took you boys when you were little.'

‘We loved it, every year we went. Until it stopped.'

‘Whistlestop River puts on a good display.' Bess didn't want him to dwell on any unhappy times. Not right now. ‘It looks even better from high up in the sky. Flying at night is different, prettier looking down at the town all lit up and when it's Christmas time, it's brilliant. All those lights, shapes and patterns are insane – makes it a little difficult to identify the flashing blue lights at an emergency scene sometimes, though.'

‘I'll bet it does.'

She set down her can: time to finish the tree. ‘You can sit a while longer.'

‘No need.'

She began to hang the first of the baubles. ‘It must be hard to sit back and watch when you're injured.'

‘It's a few Christmas decorations, Bess. Don't write me off yet.' He was up again and they were so close, she thought for a moment he might tip his head down and kiss her. A couple of months ago, she would've freaked out at the prospect, and perhaps she still should, but she wasn't.

As they continued to hang ornaments, their fingers collided between branches. As they reached for different sections to ensure the decorations were evenly spread, their bodies danced around each other.

But he must've overdone it, not rested his leg long enough, because after he put the star at the top of the tree, he lost his footing and stumbled to his right, catching the pile of papers beneath an artificial pot plant. She'd started to go through the collection of bills and demands earlier when Marianne was cleaning but had been waylaid by the postman delivering a parcel, then by a cold-call telemarketer, then she'd been interrupted when Marianne came downstairs for some bleach, and in the end, she'd shuffled them all out of the way again, ready to look at before dinner. She'd planned to hide them in her bedroom after that, but she'd never got the chance what with dinner prep and going out to buy a tree.

‘In case you hadn't noticed,' he said, ‘I've become a bit of a klutz. Wasn't this way at work; think they'd have fired me long ago if I was.' He was trying to bend down but Bess moved to get in there first, scrabbling to get the pieces of paper that had scattered. She hoped he hadn't seen the red words final demand or any of the wording about court threats or debt collectors.

But when she pushed the paper edges together into a neat pile and put them back where they were, she knew he'd seen something. Although what probably gave it away were her flushed cheeks, her anxiousness to hide the papers as quickly as possible. She didn't exactly have much of a poker face.

‘Everything all right?' His deep tone, gentle enough to give off sympathy, or pity, almost undid her.

‘Everything is fine.'

And when Marianne came in to help, they laughed, they talked, but the mood had partly died and it was almost a relief when Gio left.

‘Cup of tea?' Bess offered Marianne as soon as his taxi departed from the kerb.

‘Definitely.'

Bess put the kettle on and as it came to the boil, she pulled a box of doughnuts she'd picked up from town after shift finished from the very back of the food cupboard. ‘Dessert.' She flipped up the lid to reveal the mouth-watering, festive, glazed doughnuts, each with a Rudolph face on them. She'd forgotten all about them until now.

‘I won't say no.' Marianne grinned.

Neither of them needed to share their life story. Not right now. For the moment, this was enough, and Bess had a feeling that both of them needed this new living arrangement, more than either of them had realised.