A Christmas Proposal Page 3

  She was glad now that she hadn’t embarrassed herself further by sending a text or a follow-up email to Jerome when he hadn’t replied. Did he realise how hard it had been for her to open up to him like that, risk being dumped or laughed at? Just some comforting word or two in his text this morning would have helped. Something like, “I can see it took courage for you to write to me, and I admire you for that, but I’m sorry, I don’t think that lifestyle is for me.”

  Tears welled up again and she wiped them away fiercely. Perhaps it would be better not to go to Jonathan’s tomorrow night. She didn’t think she could bear the mortification of seeing Jerome face to face, if he was going to end their relationship because she’d told him her deepest secret.

  Her phone beeped. She picked it up, hopeful it was another, more expansive text from Jerome.

  But it was from Erika. Who’d obviously guessed her thoughts, because she’d written:

  Promise me you won’t back out of that date tomorrow night. Because if he’s going to dump someone as wonderful as you for making yourself vulnerable like that, the least he can do is pay for you to eat the best seafood in London.

  Jerome had never been so relieved to be back on English soil. As soon as the plane touched down, he was out of his seat and retrieving his bag from the overhead locker. Now he just had to hope his larger bag wouldn’t take ages to appear on the carousel.

  Today there’d been no travel hitches. Snow had stopped falling early yesterday evening, as predicted. Their bus had arrived at the airport in plenty of time. The plane had taken off on time.

  Last night he and the others had toasted Kane’s final research trip. If indeed it really was Kane’s final research trip – Jerome had doubts about that. He sensed that Kane would dislike an office role, and Helen would find something else to complain about. But he didn’t say anything about that to Kane. He left that to Mia, who was very blunt about it.

  When he’d gone to bed, Jerome had re-read Holly’s email a couple of times, glad it had downloaded onto his phone. There was still no mobile or internet access, so he couldn’t click on the links she’d provided. Instead, he’d rested his head against the pillow and thought about what her email meant for him. She wanted him to hold her accountable, provide discipline when necessary. Would he really be able to do that in the way she wanted when the thought of her upturned bare bottom over his knee gave him a hard-on?

  Now, back in London, Jerome snatched up his bag from the carousel, cleared customs, and hurried down to the tube station. His flat in Peckham, in southeast London, was about an hour away by tube and train, so he couldn’t waste any time.

  Jerome’s original plan had been to book a taxi to Jonathan’s, picking up Holly in Clapham on the way. Then, once he’d proposed, he could order champagne, and they could celebrate their engagement at the restaurant before getting a taxi back to Holly’s.

  That wouldn’t work now, though. There wasn’t time. He’d have to drive. He’d still propose to her at the restaurant, but they’d have to take the champagne back to her flat. He figured she’d still be happy with that.

  His flat was on the second floor of a Victorian-era terrace house. Like Holly’s, it was one-bedroom, but it didn’t have the charm hers did. No sloping ceilings, and the view from his windows was of rows and rows of houses as far as the eye could see. Still, it was the first place he’d bought and all he’d been able to afford on his freelance wages. When he and Holly married, though, he’d be able to sell it so they could buy something better.

  He dumped his bags on the bedroom floor, and headed for the shower. Soon he was showered and dressed in a smart shirt and jacket. He grabbed the engagement ring from where he’d hidden it at the back of his socks drawer, checked he had his wallet, and headed out to the car.

  Holly usually only used her car when she was visiting her parents or friends who lived outside London. She rarely drove within London itself, because traffic moved so slowly and it was easier and quicker to get around by tube. But she decided that if Jerome planned to dump her tonight, she didn’t want to have to get the tube home, blinking back tears while everyone around her was in a festive mood. She’d take her car, then she could make a dignified exit.

  She dressed carefully, determined to look as beautiful as possible, so that if Jerome did dump her, even he would realise he was an idiot for doing so. She wore a lacy black pleated dress with a shawl, and spent more time than usual applying makeup.

  Jonathan’s was on the southern side of the river, near South Bank, so Holly parked in a multi-storey car park only a few minutes’ walk away. The River Thames always looked beautiful at night, but tonight it was extra glorious with all the festive lights. The colours of the London Eye Ferris wheel changed from blue, to red, to green. As she walked past South Bank, all the bars and restaurants were packed.

  Jonathan’s seafood restaurant took up the entire bottom floor of a glass and granite building. Holly entered expecting a strong smell of fish, but instead breathed in a fresh, salty aroma that reminded her of the sea. The room she found herself in was long and narrow, with most of the tables already occupied, apart from a small one by the window and a very long one in the centre of the room that looked like it would host about twenty people. A pianist at one end of the long, narrow room was playing Christmas carols. At the other end was a huge Christmas tree with twinkling lights. Streamers and balloons decorated the ceiling, and there were Christmas-themed candles – Santas, trees, bonbons – in the middle of each table.

  A waiter incongruously dressed in tuxedo, bow tie and reindeer antlers greeted Holly as she walked towards the counter. “Do you have a booking with us tonight?”

  “Yes. A table for two. In the name of Jerome Palmer.”

  “Just one moment. I’ll check.” The waiter came back seconds later. “Yes, your table is in the window. He hasn’t arrived yet.”

  Holly put her coat over the back of one of the chairs at the vacant table with a Santa candle. The tables were arranged so that couples could sit opposite each other and still look out over the river. Her phone rang and her heart thumped when Jerome’s name appeared on the screen. Surely, he wasn’t going to be a total heel and stand her up as well as dump her?

  “Holly, it’s me. Are you at the restaurant yet?” Jerome sounded out of breath.

  “Yes, I’m at the table.”

  “Great. I’m just walking up from the car park. Sorry I’m late; it’s been a hell of a couple of days. See you shortly.”

  A minute later, she saw him stride past the window, and felt colour flood her cheeks at the thought of the email she’d sent.

  “Holly.” He came up to her, bent to give her a kiss.

  It turned into a quick peck on the cheek when the waiter interrupted them. “Can I get you any drinks before you order?”

  “Oh. Just a beer for me, thanks. Holly?”

  Holly was fluttering inside from nerves and felt she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye through embarrassment. She’d just have the one drink. “I’ll have a glass of white wine, please,” she told the waiter, who was placing two shell-shaped menus on the table.

  “I was going to order a bottle with dinner.” Jerome sat down opposite her and picked up a menu. “I had to drive here, so you’ll have to drink most of it, though.”

  Holly picked up her menu. That he’d talked about ordering wine rather than champagne hadn’t escaped her. He definitely didn’t plan to propose. Her mouth felt dry so she cleared her throat before answering. “I’m driving too.”

  “Oh, right. I didn’t realise.” He jabbed a finger at the menu. “The seafood platter sounds good. Cold platter first, hot platter afterwards, with lime, lychees and chilli sorbet between them to cleanse the palate.”

  Holly liked the idea of that too, but made a show of reading everything on the menu, because she really didn’t know what to say to Jerome.

  Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be at a loss. He put the menu down and said, “Honestly, the trip to Bulgaria
was an absolute disaster from start to finish.” He told her about the lack of hotel heating, the ski lift that broke down, the blizzard, the accident. “And of course, then the flight was cancelled,” he finished up. “Thank God I could get back today.”

  “It sounds dire.”

  Jerome grinned. “It’s a trip I shan’t forget, that’s for sure.”

  The waiter set their drinks on the table and took their orders, both of them requesting the seafood platter.

  “Any more drinks with the food?” the waiter asked.

  “Just a couple of glasses of house white, please,” Jerome said. “We’re both driving.”

  When the waiter had gone, Jerome took a long drag of beer. “Oh, that’s better,” he said. “So, what have you been up to while I was in Bulgaria?”

  Holly told him about the office party and the catch-ups she’d had with friends, leaving out her drink with Erika the other evening. As she talked, a large and noisy family entered the restaurant and gathered around the table in the centre of the room. A man seated at one end started shouting to a man down at the other end. Three of the women leaned across the table to each other and started gossiping and laughing.

  Jerome grimaced. “I don’t know why those two men didn’t sit together if they wanted a conversation. Hey, do you remember Kane? You met him at a party I took you to in the summer.”

  “The travel writer Kane?”

  “Yes. He says he’s giving up travel writing and is applying for a travel editor’s job with the Daily Gazette. His wife doesn’t like him being away so much.”

  “Oh. Right.” Holly took a sip of cold, fruity wine. “That seems a bit rough on him. I got the impression he really liked travelling.”

  “He does. He’ll hate a desk job. I don’t understand her attitude personally. It’s not like she didn’t know he was a travel writer who spent several months a year overseas from the moment she met him. They’ve been together years.”

  Holly felt like a jug of water had been thrown over her. Was this his way of saying that Kane hadn’t kept secrets from Helen that she could suddenly discover and object to?

  “I don’t think they’ll last if he gives up the travelling,” Jerome said. “He’ll be too restless.”

  The cold platter arrived, saving Holly from having to respond.

  “This is delicious,” she said chewing a bite of tender crab.

  “Isn’t it?” he agreed.

  They both tucked in eagerly. The family at the long table continued to be loud and boisterous, with two over-excited children constantly running around. The waiting staff looked nervous as they carried food to the tables, with the children almost cannoning into them.

  “Sorry,” Jerome said. “I didn’t realise it would be this noisy here. I thought expensive meant quiet.”

  She laughed. “It probably isn’t usually like this. The kids are excited with it being Christmas.”

  She wished he’d say something. Tell her it was all over, even refer obliquely to her email. She tried to think of a way of bringing up the subject without actually using the ‘s’ word, but couldn’t.

  A couple of tables away was another couple, about their age. They’d almost finished their meal and the waiter had gone over to ask if they wanted to order anything else. There was a sudden lull in the activity at the long table, and Holly heard the man say, “No, can I just have the bill now, please?”

  His partner slammed down the wine glass she was holding. There was a shatter of glass as it broke.

  “Careful,” the man said, “what’s…”

  “What did you bring me here for tonight?” the woman demanded. She stood up and grabbed her coat.

  “For a Christmas Eve dinner, what did you think?”

  “I thought after all this time we’ve been together you were finally going to propose. But no! You’ve made a fool of me as usual! Well, we’re finished; I’m going home.”

  She stormed out. The man rose awkwardly, and told the waiter he’d pay the bill at the counter.

  The restaurant had gone quiet, but once the man had gone to the counter, there was laugher around the large table.

  “He’s well rid of her,” one of the men declared. “Carrying on like that because he didn’t put a ring on her finger.”

  “Why did she smash the glass, Dad?” one of the kids asked. “WHY DID SHE SMASH THE GLASS?” he bellowed when no one answered him.

  The waiter cleaned up the mess left at the table. Another waiter came over to take Holly’s and Jerome’s empty plates away. When the sorbet arrived, Jerome started telling Holly about how upset their tour guide, Boriana, had been on their trip with everything going wrong. Holly only half-listened. She had some sympathy with the woman who’d had a meltdown about the non-existent proposal. She wished Jerome would be honest with her, tell her what was going on.

  She spooned sorbet into her mouth. It was deliciously sharp.

  “Dad, we shan’t miss Santa tonight, shall we?” one of the kids yelled. “I said Dad, we shan’t miss–”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t miss Santa,” his mum assured him.

  Soon, the hot seafood platter arrived and Holly and Jerome fell on the calamari rings, white fish, and king prawns.

  The two kids started singing “Jingle Bells” and one of the men at the table joined in. Holly drained the last of her wine. Her head was beginning to throb. She’d felt so nervous about tonight, and she still didn’t know whether Jerome planned to dump her or not. Plus, the place was so noisy, especially those yelling kids. She wished she and Jerome had planned a quiet Christmas Eve dinner at her flat. Then they could have talked about her email and she could perhaps have reassured him about some things, if it was that that had put him off proposing.

  The waiter came over and asked if they’d like to order anything else.

  “No, I’d just like the bill, please,” Jerome said.

  Holly’s spirits fell even more and she had to blink away tears. He definitely wasn’t going to propose and that could only mean that he was no longer sure that he wanted to be with her after her email. What other reason could there be for the change of heart?

  Well, she wasn’t going to make a scene like the other woman. “I’m just going to pop to the bathroom,” she murmured. “I’ll take my coat, then I’ll be ready to leave.”

  He nodded absently, as he fiddled in his coat for his wallet.

  Holly walked through the restaurant thinking this was going to be the worst Christmas she’d ever had. She didn’t go anywhere near the bathroom, but instead, went outside. It was absolutely freezing out there and she wished she’d worn shoes with better grip on slippery pavements. She passed a group of revellers on her way to the car park. They yelled at her to have a Merry Christmas and she forced herself to smile. “Yes, you too.”

  She’d just reached her car when her phone beeped.

  Where are you? Still in the bathroom?

  Holly ignored it. He’d realise she’d left the restaurant soon enough.

  And by then she’d be back at her flat.

  Jerome checked the time, scooped up the remaining white fish on his plate, drained his wine glass and checked the time again. Holly had been in the bathroom for ages.

  He picked up the bill and made his way across to the counter, only just avoiding a collision with the overexcited boy.

  He handed over his card to the waiter. “Is Jonathan himself working here in the kitchen tonight?”

  The waiter chuckled. “No, he’s at home with his family tonight.” He handed back Jerome’s card. “Happy Christmas, sir.”

  “Yes, Merry Christmas to you too.”

  Jerome stood by the door waiting for Holly. He couldn’t believe she was taking so long. Was she ill, he wondered? Had she perhaps fainted? When a middle-aged woman walked towards the ladies’ toilets, he called out.

  “Excuse me, but I think my girlfriend might be feeling ill in there. Could you check for me?”

  “Of course,” she said.

 
But she returned almost straightaway. “There’s no one in there at all. The doors to all the stalls are open, so…” She held out her hands in an ‘I’ve no idea where she is’ gesture.

  “Maybe she’s gone outside for some air,” Jerome said.

  He stepped outside. There was no sign of her along the riverbank and he realised she’d already gone home.

  She’d acted nervously around him from when he arrived, and no wonder really, given he’d had no opportunity to properly answer her email. It would have cost her a lot to send it, and for him to say nothing more than he’d received it must have been hard for her.

  He’d changed his mind about proposing to her when the noise level had ratcheted up. Instead of the cosy, romantic dinner he’d pictured in his mind, it would have been like proposing in the middle of a busy high street.

  Now, he wished he had proposed, because if he’d done so, she’d have realised he still loved her regardless of her confession.

  He smiled to himself. He mightn’t have had time to check the links she’d sent, but he thought he had a good handle on what she wanted from what she’d written in her email.

  If she wanted domestic discipline, they might as well start tonight.

  He headed back to his car, sent Holly a text, and began the drive to her flat.

  5

  Spanking Dreams Come True

  Holly flung herself onto the sofa. What an awful night it had been. And now she had to get through Christmas dinner at her parents’ place tomorrow. How was she going to explain Jerome’s absence to her family?

  Her phone beeped. She dug it out from her cluttered handbag.

  Not impressed with your disappearing act, Holly. Lucky for me you sent me that email. I know exactly how to deal with this behaviour now. On my way. Jx

  Holly’s mouth went dry and her insides fluttered in both dread and delight. Was he really going to spank her? And if so, did she really want it? What was it Erika had said? That a real spanking was very different from what you imagined it to be?