A Christmas Proposal Page 2

  If you don’t want to stay with me after this, I’ll understand. All you need to do is tell me that Christmas Eve is cancelled – you don’t have to explain anything to me. I shan’t hold it against you, because I know that a lot of people find spankos weird and don’t want to be in a relationship with them.

  I’m putting some links below.

  Even if I never hear from you again other than a text to say Jonathan’s is off, I do love you and hope we’ll be able to work this out.

  All my love,

  Holly xxx

  Holly woke up early next morning and reached instantly for her phone, to see whether she’d received a text or email from Jerome. She hadn’t.

  She checked the time – six o’clock. Bulgaria was two hours ahead of England so Jerome would probably be having breakfast now. He always made an early start on his research trips, making sure he had enough time in the day to fit everything in.

  He usually checked his emails over breakfast so she’d surely hear from him soon.

  “A watched kettle never boils,” Holly’s grandma was fond of saying. And Holly agreed with that, the more you checked your phone, waiting for a text or call, the less likely it was to come through.

  So, she padded through to the kitchen, brewed coffee, then headed for the shower. She was more than a little hungover – her mouth felt like the bottom of a birdcage – so she was in desperate need of both.

  Holly adored her tiny rented flat in the attic of what had once been a grand Victorian-era house in Clapham, in southwest London. She loved the sloping ceiling and the view of treetops from the sash windows. The one-bedroomed flat was only a short walk from a tube station, restaurants, bars and shops, as well as the large park known as Clapham Common. It suited her well.

  She breathed in the smell of her lime and coconut shower gel as she showered and thought about the email she’d sent Jerome last night. She felt nervous about what his reaction would be, and wondered whether adding those links to the email had been wise. How would he feel about the video of a man spanking a woman who’d been caught smoking despite her health problems? And how far would he get into Erika’s perma-free Christmas holiday novella on Amazon before deciding neither spanking nor Holly was for him?

  She wrapped herself in a towel and wandered through to her bedroom, where she’d left her phone on the bed. Her mouth went dry and her stomach did a little roll when she saw the notification that she’d received two texts.

  One was from Erika.

  How did you go with the email? Hope you hit the ‘send’ button. I’m here for you whatever his response is.

  The other was from her mum.

  I did tell you to be here at 12 on Christmas Day, didn’t I? Your dad just told me he thinks I said 1 o’clock and now I’m worried. Let me know. xx

  Holly perched on the bed to respond to both messages.

  Yes, I sent it. Haven’t heard anything back yet, though. I’ll let you know when I do.

  Yes, you told me 12 o’clock, don’t worry! Looking forward to seeing you and Dad on Christmas Day. xxx

  She and Jerome were spending Christmas Day with her parents and Boxing Day with his. She wondered whether he’d mentioned anything about his planned marriage proposal to either of them beforehand. Was he old-fashioned enough to have asked her dad’s permission first? She didn’t think so. Jerome had always been surrounded by independent women – his mother was an artist, his sister a barrister – and was even more of a feminist than Holly was!

  She really struggled to envisage him setting rules for her and punishing her when she broke them.

  She checked her emails – one from her boss, nothing from Jerome. She read her boss’s email about a meeting for a project they’d be starting in the New Year, and put her phone aside to get dressed.

  No, she thought, remembering spilling coffee on her skirt yesterday. She’d have breakfast before she got dressed. Today she planned to wear a smart woollen grey dress, and if she had an important meeting, she didn’t want to stain it.

  When she left her flat at eight o’clock, she still hadn’t heard from Jerome.

  She didn’t hear from Jerome at all that day.

  Or the day after that.

  Or the day after that.

  The day before Christmas Eve – the day he got back from Bulgaria – she still hadn’t heard from him.

  She called Erika on her way to work. “He never replied to me,” she said, blinking back tears of heartache. “What I said in that email was too much for him. He doesn’t want me.”

  3

  A Cancelled Flight

  Jerome was about to check his emails when the bus braked to an abrupt halt, jolting him forward.

  He looked out the window. The bus had rounded a corner and almost hit the final car in what looked like a long line of traffic. Flashing lights indicated there’d been an accident ahead. Not surprising in the blizzard conditions they were driving through.

  Boriana, their tour guide, snapped something in Bulgarian at the driver. Jerome didn’t know a word of Bulgarian, but he was confident she was swearing.

  The other travel writers on the bus were swearing as well. “Banged my head against the fucking seat,” Mia grumbled.

  “I hope we don’t get held up very long. There’s every chance we’ll miss the plane at this rate,” Graham muttered. “What a bloody trip this has been!”

  “It’s my very last trip as well. I wanted it to be memorable for all the right reasons, not the wrong ones,” Kane said, with a sigh.

  “Your last trip?” Jerome asked. “Why’s that then?”

  Kane sighed again, more heavily. He was mid-thirties, like Jerome, with untidy fair hair and a penchant for Christmas jumpers. Today he wore one depicting a red-breasted robin perched on a brown twig surrounded by snow.

  “Helen doesn’t want me going away for weeks at a time anymore. I’m applying for that travel editor’s job with the Daily Gazette. So, you all need to be nice to me in case I get it, because I’ll be the one commissioning work.”

  Jerome glanced at his inbox. It wasn’t loading properly. Damn. He hadn’t been able to check his emails for days. He’d used the landline at the hotel to let his editor know that internet and mobile access was spotty in the mountains, and that one phone call had cost so much, he’d decided against phoning Holly. He hoped she wouldn’t be annoyed at his lack of contact. Still, they’d be at the airport soon and he could call and apologise.

  He shoved his phone back into his pocket and turned to Kane. “I can’t see you working nine to five in a desk job, Kane.”

  “Well, it’s that or our relationship, apparently.” Kane looked glum.

  “I don’t see what Helen’s problem is,” said Mia. “She should accept you for what you are. You like this job, she shouldn’t interfere with that.”

  Mia was in her early twenties. Jerome, who wrote for a range of newspapers, magazines and websites, had been on four trips with her now. Every time her hair had been a different colour and she’d been sporting a new tattoo. This time her hair was metallic blue and she’d rolled up her sleeve one morning to show them the latest tattoo of a squirrel. She’d quickly rolled it down again. The hotel heating hadn’t worked properly and most of the time they’d all shivered in jumpers and jackets.

  “Joanne never seems to have minded all that much,” Graham mused. He was in his late fifties, with grey hair and glasses. “It was difficult for her sometimes when the children were small. But she just seemed to accept that this was the way I earned money, and that was that.”

  “Helen says she’s sick of going to functions on her own,” Kane said. “I think this one was the final straw for her, because she had to go to her work’s Christmas party on her own. She said she’s not putting up with it anymore. And the travel editor’s job means a secure salary, so that’ll be handy too.”

  “Well, I’d rather do a job I enjoyed for an insecure wage than one I hated for a more reliable income,” Mia declared.

  “K
ane might not hate the job,” Graham pointed out.

  Jerome thought Kane would hate office life. Kane liked to be outdoors, preferring to write about hikes, campsites, and ski fields rather than museums, restaurants and bars.

  “Perhaps it’s worth a shot,” he said, “for the sake of the relationship. Kane can always go back to writing if it doesn’t work out.”

  He wondered what Holly thought about his job. She’d never said anything to indicate his being away so much bothered her. She hadn’t complained about this pre-Christmas trip to Bulgaria. But so far, they’d just been dating, really, even if those dates usually ended with him staying over at her flat or her at his. From Christmas Eve, things would be different. They’d be engaged.

  Then, at some point in the next couple of years, they’d be married. And after that, there’d no doubt be children. They’d never discussed it, but Jerome hoped to be a father one day, and he sensed that Holly would like to have children too.

  Holly had a good job and she’d want to keep it once they had kids. That meant they’d need to share the childcare. How would that work if Jerome was away travelling for several months of the year?

  Maybe he should start thinking about becoming a travel editor too.

  “I bet Helen’ll be fuming that you haven’t been able to contact her on this trip,” Mia said.

  “Yep, I’m dreading the earful I’ll get about that,” Kane said.

  “Not your fault,” Graham said. “Anyway, it’s been like the old days, when we didn’t have the internet or mobile phones, and you never contacted anyone other than your editor when you were on a research trip.” A wistful expression crossed on his face as he remembered trips from the 1980s.

  “You’re the only one who remembers that,” Kane pointed out.

  “I am sorry the trip has been difficult,” Boriana said. She looked miserable, no doubt anticipating less than enthusiastic write-ups of the new Bulgarian ski resort.

  “Not your fault either,” Graham said.

  The traffic started moving again, albeit slowly. Jerome gazed out of the window at the swirling snow. He’d discuss his job with Holly tonight, before he proposed tomorrow. He wanted to know what she really felt about it. She’d also had an office Christmas party to attend while he was away. Had it bothered her that he had been away for it? Or would she cheerfully have taken a friend along, or gone alone and still enjoyed herself? Holly wasn’t needy or whiny like Kane’s Helen, so Jerome suspected she’d partied happily. But he’d ask anyway.

  Everyone on the bus became increasingly anxious as poor visibility meant the driver had to drive slowly. Jerome kept glancing at the time on his phone, fearful they’d miss the plane. When they arrived at the airport, the writers collectively heaved a sigh of relief. Their boarding gate would already be open, but they’d have plenty of time to clear customs.

  When they entered the airport, though, it was chaos. Crowds of people milled around, and the display boards showed most of the flights as ‘cancelled.’

  Including their flight to London.

  “Shit,” Kane said.

  “I suspected as much in this weather,” Graham said.

  “You all stay here. I’ll find out what’s happening,” Boriana told them.

  “Shall we get a coffee or something?” Graham suggested.

  Jerome looked around at the food outlets. They all had queues of people. “Good luck with that,” he said. He reached in his pocket for his phone. “At least there’s mobile and internet access here.”

  They forgot about coffee and checked their phones.

  “I’ve got about a million texts and missed calls from Helen,” Kane said.

  Jerome was surprised he had no texts or missed calls from Holly. She’d never bombard him the way Helen did Kane, but he’d have expected a text along the lines of, “Hey haven’t heard from you for a few days. Just checking you’re okay.” The texts he’d received were from mates, and he answered them quickly before opening his email.

  There were a couple of emails from travel editors asking if he was interested in trips for early next year. One was to Cyprus in March and Jerome liked the sound of that. Three weeks in mild winter sunshine beat a bleak March in England any day of the week. The other was to Croatia in April, which also sounded good.

  Should he accept straightaway or discuss the trips with Holly first? Trips like this always got snapped up quickly, and he was already late replying. He tapped out quick emails to both editors accepting their commissions. If, after talking with Holly tonight, they decided a desk job would be better for their relationship, he didn’t need to make any changes straightaway. He could take a long-term view of the career change.

  The next couple of emails were about work he wasn’t interested in, and he scrolled further down his inbox. His eyebrows rose when he saw there was an email from Holly. She’d never sent him an email before; she’d always texted or messaged him through Facebook Messenger.

  He opened it and began to read.

  “Jerome! JEROME!” Graham waved his hand in front of Jerome’s face, startling him. “Did you hear what Boriana just told us? We’ve got to go back to the hotel.”

  “What?”

  Jerome closed the email quickly and shoved his phone in his pocket. He didn’t want anybody to see the contents of Holly’s email. He felt dazed, embarrassed, a little amused, and, yes, rather uncomfortably turned on as well.

  “All flights are cancelled today. The weather’s supposed to deteriorate over the next few hours. But they’re expecting improved conditions tomorrow. Boriana’s got us all on a flight tomorrow afternoon.” Graham patted his shoulder. “Come on, we need to get back on the road or we’ll be stranded.”

  “Helen’s going to kill me,” Kane said. “She’s taken Christmas Eve off work and we were going to drop all the presents round to various relatives. Now she’ll have to do all of it on her own.”

  “Come on, please, we must move,” Boriana said.

  God, they’d lose reliable internet and mobile access as soon as they left the airport, Jerome thought. Holly had sent that email days ago. She probably thought he’d dumped her because of her revelations. There wasn’t time to reply properly to it, and she’d be at work and wouldn’t want to talk about it on the phone anyway. But he could send her a quick text.

  “What time will we be back in London tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Not till around five,” Graham said.

  God, he hoped there were no delays, or he wouldn’t make it to Jonathan’s on time. And he needed to go back to his flat to shower and change first. Not to mention pick up the engagement ring so he could propose!

  “Come on, please,” Boriana said again.

  “Just a minute,” Jerome said.

  He texted as quickly as he could.

  Sorry, only got your email just now. No internet or mobile access here all week. There’s a blizzard and our flight has been cancelled. Flying home tomorrow. I won’t have time to pick you up to take you to Jonathan’s because of when our flight gets in, so I’ll meet you there.

  “COME ON, JEROME!” Boriana yelled. “It’s going to take us ages to get back. I don’t want us to be stranded and freeze to death on the road.”

  Jerome had been about to add something like ‘I’m good with what you told me and we’ll talk about it properly soon,’ but he couldn’t hold Boriana and the others up any longer. She’d know he was cool with it anyway, given he was keeping their date. So, he hit send on the text message as he followed the rest of his group towards the airport doors.

  4

  A Disastrous Dinner

  “He definitely doesn’t want me,” Holly said.

  She was curled up on her sofa, talking to Erika on the phone. Somehow, she’d managed to get through the workday without crying after receiving Jerome’s message. But as soon as she’d got home she’d poured herself a glass of wine and let the tears fall. She hadn’t switched the Christmas tree lights on; she didn’t think she’d ever felt less Chr
istmassy.

  “There is a blizzard in Eastern Europe and a lot of flights have been cancelled,” Erika said. “It was on the news. So, he’s not lying about that.”

  “But he’s not picking me up. Doesn’t that suggest to you that we’re not going to spend tomorrow night together? He was going to pick me up and then we were going to come back here. Now we’ll both go our separate ways afterwards.”

  “Not necessarily. If he’s taking his car, he can still drive you home. Unless you’re planning to drive as well?”

  “All he says is that he got my email, nothing about what he thinks about it. Doesn’t that say something?”

  “I shouldn’t read too much into that, Holly. He’s a man. Since when did men pour their feelings out in an email?”

  Holly pulled her hair out of the scrunchie and shook it loose. “He didn’t have to tell me his innermost feelings. Just ‘I’m okay with that.’ Or ‘I’m not okay with that.’”

  “Look, he’s keeping the date and I think that’s what counts.” Erika sounded impatient. “It would be easy enough for him to cancel if he doesn’t want to see you again.”

  “Not if he can’t make phone calls,” Holly pointed out. “And I bet there was some kind of deposit for Christmas Eve dinner at Jonathan’s. Why would he want to lose that?”

  “Well, if he didn’t want to see you, he could take someone else,” Erika pointed out. “I think you’re reading too much into this. Watch the news. See the chaos caused by the blizzard for yourself.”

  Holly ended the call and half-heartedly set about making dinner. She rummaged in her freezer and dug out some leftover lasagne. She placed it in the oven before chopping veggies and popping them in the steamer.