A Merry Little Christmas

Chapter 24

Nell

‘Thank you.’ Nell swung first one leg and then the other out of the taxi, took a deep breath and heaved herself out onto the street.

She was going to die, she was sure of it. And if by some fluke she survived, she was never drinking again. Never. Her hangover wasn’t just in her head, it was in her stomach, her scalp, her toes – in fact, every cell in her body was hovering at the point of permanent failure.

‘A cold can of Coke will do the trick.’ The driver grinned as she handed him her fare, plus a generous tip for agreeing not to speak or play loud music. ‘Works every time. Oh, and peanut butter on toast.’

Nell thought about how a layer of peanut butter would feel stuck to the roof of her mouth and tried not to gag. She shut the taxi door as softly as she could and weaved her way up the path to her front door. Her head felt as if someone inside it was trying to hammer tent pegs into concrete; the slightest noise was torture.

Olek’s van wasn’t parked in the drive. This shouldn’t be a massive surprise given that it was almost 10 a.m. and he always left for work without fail at 8 a.m. sharp. But under the circumstances, she’d expected him to be waiting for her when she got home, either concerned about her or angry with her. Her stomach flip-flopped with nerves. She’d never stayed out all night, at least not without letting him know where she was; there had never been a night when her preferred place to be wasn’t in her own bed with her husband. If he’d done this to her, she’d have been worried to death.

Her hands fumbled with the keys as she let herself in through the front door, aware of the urgent upward pressure on her oesophagus. She dashed into the cloakroom, flung up the lid of the toilet and just made it in time before throwing up. She stayed still for a couple of minutes, waiting for the trembling to subside and thinking that she’d never liked herself less. Finally, she stood to wash her hands and face in cold water, caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror above the basin and shuddered in horror: murky complexion, bloodshot eyes and her hair, usually her crowning glory of auburn waves, hung in matted, dull clumps.

She couldn’t remember much about how last night ended. She remembered not being able to find her phone and using that as an excuse not to call Olek. That was unforgivable and cowardly; she knew his number. She could have called if she’d wanted to.

Waking up this morning in the bedroom above the shop, snuggling up to Woody, had taken some unpacking. But she took comfort in the fact that neither of them had removed any clothes. What she did remember with absolute clarity was the sound of the shop door slamming and the revving of Olek’s engine as he accelerated away from her. And the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that her Jenga tower of lies was about to come crashing down.

If her husband had heard what she thought he had, she was going to have a lot of difficult questions to answer today. But maybe, maybe, he hadn’t heard a word of their discussion. There was a chance that he’d come in as far as the bottom of the stairs, heard her having a good time and decided to leave her to it.

Wishful thinking, she thought as she dragged herself through to the kitchen. He’d never have slammed the door if that had been the case. No, there had been anger in that slam.

Nell put the kettle on, even though the thought of tea made her feel sick. She sank down at the kitchen table and dropped her head in her hands.

What a bloody mess.

A loud, shrill sound jolted her head from the table. She rubbed her eyes awake and wiped the drool from her chin; she must have fallen asleep. Damn. She had loads to do this morning: track down her phone, speak to Olek, check on Merry … She forced herself to focus on the noise. It was the phone in the hall. No one ever rang the landline except dodgy salespeople and her mother. She wasn’t in the mood for either and decided to let the answerphone deal with it. But as soon as the caller began to leave a message, she jumped to her feet and ran to the hall.

‘Hey, Dad and Nell. This is Max. Has something happened to your phones? I can’t get through to either of you. Dad, can you call me please, it’s about football practice tonight. I’ve texted you, but it doesn’t look like you’ve read it. I’m really sorry, but I need a lift to Derby. Hope that’s OK. You’re the best. I’ll try you—’

‘Max!’ Nell grabbed the phone quickly before he hung up and sat on the bottom step of the staircase, dizzy with the sudden movement. ‘Sorry, I was …’ She stopped short of telling him she’d been asleep, slumped at the table. ‘Outside.’

‘No worries. Is Dad there?’

‘He’s at work, love.’ She supposed. ‘But I’m sure he won’t mind giving you a lift later. He’s probably on an emergency job and can’t answer the phone.’

‘Hmm.’ Max sounded sceptical. ‘I left him a message late last night too, after you dropped me off, and he hasn’t responded to that either.’

‘Oh dear.’ Nell felt a dart of fear. It was unheard of for Olek not to return his calls, especially one from Max.

Was he out at work? Could he have had an accident or … She shuddered at the thought and then chastised herself for being dramatic, it was her hangover making her paranoid. Olek would have a perfectly sensible explanation.

‘Nell?’ Max’s worried voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Is everything OK?’

She straightened up and forced some lightness into her voice. Max wasn’t stupid, he’d quickly pick up on an atmosphere. ‘Everything’s fine. Just busy.’

‘OK, well …’ he hesitated, obviously not totally convinced.

‘Look, if all else fails, I can give you a lift tonight, how about that? I know it’s not as good as Dad, but at least you can stop worrying about how you’ll get there.’

He let out a sigh of relief. ‘Phew. It’s just Viktor and Mum have decided to go to the cinema now and they were going to drop me off.’

Nell managed not to tut with disapproval. ‘Never mind, you can rely on us.’

‘Yeah, what would I do without you and Dad in my life, eh?’ he said with a smile in his voice.

She felt her chest contract with love; he’d always been a sweet boy and he was turning into a lovely young man. Olek had had a part in that, regardless of whether they were related by blood or not. ‘That’s something you’ll never need to worry about, love.’

‘Thanks, see you later, then. Oh, how’s Merry’s dad, have you heard?’

Her face flushed with embarrassment; what a terrible person she was for not finding out. Even Max had enquired before she had. ‘I’m waiting to hear; I’ll keep you posted.’

She ended the call and replaced the phone in its cradle. Next to it was a folded piece of paper. She picked it up and found her mobile hiding underneath. Thank goodness, mystery solved. She unfolded the page and registered Olek’s handwriting. As her brain absorbed the words, her hands started to tremble.

‘No! I don’t believe it.’ She pressed a hand to her mouth and sank to the floor. ‘He’s left. Olek has left me.’