Calling Mrs Christmas Read online

  I shrug. ‘It’s entirely up to you.’

  ‘Good,’ he says. ‘I’ve organised a little surprise.’

  The children race into the adjoining room, which is connected by a short, arched tunnel and contains two single beds, again both set on blocks of ice.

  ‘A pirate’s bed!’ Max cries. As we follow them in, he makes a dive for it and rolls around on the reindeer skins, looking as if he’s in seventh heaven.

  The room divider is a wall in the shape of an open storybook, with one side carved to look like a sailing ship. An octopus waves tentacles set with different coloured lights. At the head of the other bed, shaped like a flower, is an ice sculpture of a fairy princess. ‘Oh,’ Eve says, momentarily lost for words. She lies down on her bed, rapt.

  ‘Into your sleeping bags,’ Carter instructs. ‘Snuggle down. Zip yourselves up tightly.’

  The children strip off their fleeces and I lay the sleeping bags out for them. They take off their boots to clamber inside.

  ‘Will our boots get icicles in them?’ Max asks, regarding them with concern.

  ‘I hope not,’ I tease. ‘Make sure you put them straight on when you get out of bed though. Don’t stand on the snow in your stockinged feet.’ I fix their boots so that they’re easy for the children to find if they need them in the night.

  Carter and I make sure they’re zipped in. Snuggled into the Arctic sleeping bags, they look like little bugs in a cocoon.

  ‘It’s not cold in bed,’ Eve says. ‘It’s cosy and warm.’

  ‘Good. Sleep tight,’ Carter says. ‘I love you both to the moon and back.’

  ‘I love you too, Daddy,’ Eve says.

  We both hug and kiss them.

  ‘Night night, Cassie.’ Despite his excitement, Max yawns. ‘This is the most fun hotel ever.’

  Carter and I exchange a smile. We go back through to Carter’s suite and, as we arrive, someone calls out to us, ‘Room service.’

  ‘Come in,’ Carter says. A waiter in a thermal poncho and fur-trapper hat brings in an ice bucket – actually made of ice – and sets it down. There’s a bottle of Krug champagne in it. He disappears to return with a tray of little ice platters, each holding canapés of smoked salmon, carpaccio of reindeer and caviar.

  ‘Just leave it,’ Carter says. ‘I’ll pour.’ The waiter disappears.

  ‘This is fun,’ I say, feeling as excited as the children. ‘What a treat.’

  ‘This has been a marvellous trip. You couldn’t have organised it better, Cassie Christmas.’

  He pops the cork and pours champagne for us both. Proper glasses this time.

  ‘It isn’t over yet,’ I say.

  My voice sounds thick in my throat. To be honest with you, at this moment, I never ever want this to end. Being here, in this magical place, has taken me out of my troubles completely. When you have money, you can do what you like, there’s no struggle, no living from hand to mouth. You don’t have to worry about paying the bills, about the car breaking down, about how to put food on the table. Everything that you want just happens. I sigh to myself.

  Carter hands a glass to me and our fingers touch. It might be the cold, it might be the atmosphere, but it’s as if they are suddenly set on fire. Our eyes meet and it feels as if Carter drinks me in – even though I’m wearing a fleecy hat with a pompom on top.

  ‘It’s cold,’ Carter says. ‘Shall we slide into the sleeping bag?’ A double Arctic sleeping bag is already laid out on the bed. When did that happen? ‘It will keep us warm.’

  ‘OK.’

  It’s a sensible idea as it’s more than chilly in here. Even inside the hotel, the temperature never gets higher than minus five degrees. Any warmer and I guess the whole place would simply melt. When Carter’s ready to go to sleep, he can lift Max into this bed and I’ll go to sleep in the other suite with Eve as we planned.

  I slip off my boots and swing my legs round into the sleeping bag. Carter brings over the tray of canapés and the rest of the champagne, then does the same. He tops up my glass and I try a canapé or two. We sit together side by side. He hugs his knees up to his chest, looking younger and more vulnerable than he has so far. I guess that even someone like Carter Randall needs time when he’s not being the all-powerful businessman.

  ‘I want to thank you again, Cassie,’ he says when we’re settled. ‘This trip has been more than just a fun break. It’s reconnected me with my kids in a way that I haven’t done in a long time.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound as if you and Tamara have had much fun with them.’

  ‘No,’ he admits. ‘We probably haven’t. Did Eve say something?’

  I nod. There’s no point beating about the bush.

  ‘I think she’s the one who feels it the most.’ He shakes his head. ‘Poor love. I thought Tamara and I were doing our best for them. Perhaps we’re not. We’ve both been so busy chasing our careers that we seem to have forgotten what really matters in life.’ Carter sighs to himself. ‘Tamara is very caught up with “image”. I don’t think she knows how to let herself go any more. I’m not sure I do either. We never would have messed about on the dance floor as you and I did earlier, she’d have been too worried about someone seeing her. She wouldn’t have enjoyed rolling in the snow with the children as you’ve done. For her it’s all about image and designer clothes. She wouldn’t have risked getting dirty. I don’t think I ever would have got her on a dog sled or a snowmobile. But it was great. Brilliant fun. The kids loved it.’ Carter sounds as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. ‘I’m going to have to have a serious rethink about how I run the business. Perhaps I need to take on a right-hand man that I can rely on.’

  I think of Jim and how much I’ve been able to lean on him.

  ‘You’ve shown me that I need to have more fun, find that part of me again,’ Carter continues. ‘I have to do it for my children’s sake.’

  I sip my champagne, unsure what to say.

  ‘What am I going to do, Cassie? You seem to be the one with all the answers.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Eve and Max think you’re wonderful,’ he says.

  ‘I’ve grown very fond of them too.’

  ‘I can buy anything I want in the world, pretty much. The only thing that money can’t buy you is time.’

  ‘It can’t buy you love either,’ I point out.

  ‘You and the Beatles are probably right,’ he teases. Then he chinks his glass against mine. ‘To love, Cassie Christmas.’

  ‘To love,’ I echo.

  Carter moves towards me and, in one smooth and unexpected movement, his lips find mine. He hesitates only slightly before he kisses me. He tastes sweet, of champagne and cold air, but his tongue is hot, searching. His hand cups the back of my neck to draw me closer into him. My head swims. I haven’t been kissed by another man in years and the sensation is alien and thrilling. Exhilarating. I know that I should pull away, that I should tell him to stop. My brain is trying very hard to make me, but in my heart I can’t do it.

  Chapter Fifty

  Carter and I break away from each other. It’s so long since I’ve done this that I don’t really know which of us is supposed to speak first. I know that we should talk about what just happened but, before either of us can say anything, we hear a sleepy voice over my shoulder.

  ‘Daddy.’

  It’s Eve and we both spin round to face her, probably looking as guilty as hell. I certainly feel it.

  ‘I need a wee,’ she says, stifling a yawn. ‘I don’t know where to go.’

  ‘I’ll come with you, darling,’ Carter says. ‘Sorry,’ he mouths to me with an apologetic smile.

  ‘I’ll go,’ I offer. ‘You stay here with Max.’

  ‘Yes, you come, Cassie,’ Eve says and grabs my hand.

  So our passionate moment has come to an abrupt end but, to be honest, I don’t think that’s a bad thing as it gives me a chance to gather my scrambled thoughts. To use the facilities, we have to put on ou
r boots and fleeces and go back to the warm part of the hotel. I hug Eve to me. ‘Don’t get cold.’

  ‘I’m not,’ she assures me.

  A second later, just as I’m climbing into my thermal boots, Max also trails through. ‘I need to go too.’

  ‘Why don’t we all go together?’ Carter suggests. ‘I’d like to see what it looks like when no one else is around.’

  So he slips out of bed too and puts on his boots. Quickly, we zip into our fleeces and head off towards the changing area.

  In the hotel, all is quiet. The halls are empty and the snow walls deaden the sound. A heavy mist hangs low in the corridors, so that you can see only from waist height upwards. It creates a magical atmosphere and makes us look as if we’re floating.

  The children run on ahead, trying to scoop up armfuls of the cold air.

  Carter hangs back next to me. ‘I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t mean for it to happen.’ Me neither. ‘You’re with someone else.’

  ‘Jim.’

  His name feels wrong, strange in my mouth as if my tongue has thickened. This is too bizarre. It’s as if the man that I love has become just a shadow in the background. I’ve been away from him for only three days, but this place seems so remote from the reality of my life that, physically and emotionally, I might as well be a million miles away.

  And now Carter has kissed me and my head is spinning.

  In the warmth of the changing rooms, I hug my knees to me while I wait for Eve. What happens now, I wonder? I’m glad that the children interrupted us as it gives me time to think. If only I could get my brain to co-operate. But it seems to be stuck firmly on a loop of nothing more sophisticated than ‘What the fuck?’ I love Jim. I do. I have always loved him. So why am I feeling like this about another man?

  Ablutions over, we all troop back to the fabulous suites. ‘I should go and sleep in the other room with Eve,’ I quietly say to Carter.

  ‘Have I upset you?’ His forehead creases in a frown that I have the urge to smooth away. ‘It’s the last thing that I wanted.’

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘Not at all. I just think it’s for the best.’

  ‘Max? Do you want to slide in with Daddy and let Cassie have your pirate bed?’

  ‘No thank you,’ Max says decisively. ‘I want to stay in my bed.’

  ‘Eve?’

  ‘But I like being a princess, Daddy. My bed’s sooo lovely.’

  Carter looks over at me. ‘Your call,’ he says.

  ‘I can go and sleep in the cabin.’ Or curl up in a seat in reception. Anything. I just don’t think that getting back into bed with Carter is an option.

  ‘I won’t hear of it. We can do this,’ he says, as if he’s reading my thoughts. ‘We can be grown up about it. You’ll stay with me. Trust me.’ His eyes beseech me and, at this moment, I believe him. ‘Come on, kids. Back into bed. This is our one and only night in the Icehotel and there’s not much left of it.’

  ‘I want to stay here for ever,’ Eve says, dreamily.

  ‘Me too,’ Max agrees.

  ‘Maybe we’ll come again next year,’ Carter says, then kisses them both and zips them up into their sleeping bags. ‘This is going to be a hard act to follow,’ he whispers to me.

  With the children settled once more, we both go through to the main suite. He glances towards the bed. ‘Are we cool with this?’ Carter asks.

  I chew my lip. ‘I’m not sure.’ In fact, I know in my heart that I’ve never been less cool.

  ‘You don’t have to worry about me,’ Carter says. ‘I can control myself. You have one half of the sleeping bag and I’ll stay firmly in the other.’

  ‘Now you’re teasing me.’

  ‘No,’ he says earnestly. ‘Never. We’ve had such a great few days together, let’s not spoil it. We’ll snuggle down – separately – go to sleep, forget that kiss ever happened.’

  But it’s not so easily forgotten, I think. At least not by me.

  ‘I’ll feel terrible if you leave,’ Carter says. He pulls open the sleeping bag and looks at me endearingly.

  I blame it on the sub-zero temperature, but my resistance is very low. Slipping off my boots, I slide into the sleeping bag. There is quite a lot of room for two, so we don’t have to touch.

  Carter strips off his fleece and snuggles in next to me, pulling the duvet up around our necks. I tug my hat down over my ears.

  ‘Goodnight, Cassie Christmas,’ he says, and kissing the tip of his finger he touches it very gently to the end of my nose.

  We lie down face to face in the sleeping bag.

  ‘Goodnight,’ I say. ‘Sleep tight.’ I close my eyes, but I know full well that sleep will steadfastly elude me.

  Within seconds I hear Carter’s breathing change and it’s clear that he hasn’t been afflicted with the same problem. Opening my eyes, I look at him. His face is inches away from mine. In sleep, the years roll away from him and I can see the boy that he used to be. My heart squeezes and I can’t identify the emotion – is it friendship, affection, love? I simply don’t know.

  So I just lie here next to Carter, wide awake, listening to the sound of his breathing and wondering what Jim’s doing now.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Jim had taken the lads back to the unit and now he was home alone. Cassie was due back from Lapland the following night and, if he was honest, it couldn’t come round soon enough.

  He was on a late shift tomorrow so, in theory, he could tidy up the flat in the morning before he went to work. In reality, he was restless. He’d tried relaxing in front of the television with a beer but it just wasn’t hitting the spot. So he gave up and, instead, headed to the kitchen to spruce it up. They both liked the flat to look nice and it had been just about impossible for either of them to do any cleaning recently. The place was piled high with boxes of presents, decorations and festive stuff of indeterminate nature. He’d always known that the commercialisation of Christmas had long been accomplished, but he’d never even heard of some of the things that Cassie had bought or been asked to do.

  Neither could he get over how much some people were prepared to spend. Take Carter Randall, for instance. The amount he was pouring into his Christmas celebrations was just mind-blowing. It was nice for Cassie’s business, but it gave Jim a headache just thinking about it. What he couldn’t do for some of the lads at Bovingdale or at Vincent’s place if he had that kind of money to splash around. Those sorts of people, with money coming out of their ears, only ever gave to charity if it was some sort of tax dodge. Still, it was Carter’s money, supposedly hard-earned, and, at the end of the day, he could do what he jolly well liked with it. If that meant filling his garden with hideously expensive sculptures for a couple of weeks or renting a private plane to jet off in, then that was his call.

  He worked off his frustration by scrubbing the sink and the cooker hob. When the kitchen looked less as if a bomb had gone off in it, Jim made a start on the living room. He tidied the boxes into piles, but that didn’t really make much of a dent in the chaos. There was so much still to do. Presents had to be wrapped and there were still events coming up. Soon they’d have to start turning jobs down or take on even more staff. There was only so much that he and the lads could do in a few hours and performing miracles wasn’t one of them. The cards that needed writing were piling up. He thought it was a good sign that people still wanted to personalise them, even if they had no time to actually write the damn things themselves. On the mantelpiece stood the stupid card that he’d given to Cassie. Christmas across the Miles, indeed! No wonder she’d been furious with him. What a plonker. That could go straight into the bin. He tore it in two and threw it away. He’d go and get her another one, a proper one. One that told her how much he really loved her.

  He’d run the vacuum cleaner around, but there was so little of the carpet left showing that it hardly seemed worth it. Instead, he made do with a bit of polishing and plumping the cushions on the sofa, then moved on to the bedroom
.

  What was he going to do with the lads? It was great that he’d managed to get them into Vincent’s place and everyone knew that Vince ran a tight ship. He stood no messing from the lads who stayed there and yet was very protective at the same time. Jim knew that he could trust his old friend to give Smudge and Rozzer a good start back on the outside. The only problem was finding them somewhere to stay until the flat became vacant. He wondered if social services would stump up for bed-and-breakfast accommodation for a few days in the interim. Perhaps he’d get onto that tomorrow.

  Jim made the bed and hoovered around it. On the bedside table was a photograph of him and Cassie. He couldn’t now remember where it had been taken – Cassie was the one who was good at that sort of thing. It must have been somewhere posh as he was wearing a suit and Cassie her one evening dress. They were both grinning into the camera lens and looking the worse for drink, but it was one of his favourite snaps of Cassie and him together. They looked happy, carefree. He ran his finger affectionately over her cheek.