Guess Who's Coming to Christmas Dinner (12 page)

‘I’d better be off,’ Stella said and thanked him again for the tasting before leaving him standing in the kitchen thinking about
Davina and their usual Christmas.

Was she happy with the same rituals every year? He knew he was and didn’t want to change a single thing but maybe he should ask if she wanted to do things differently. They were both only children and always had both sets of parents to their home for the whole day. He cooked Christmas lunch and proudly showed off the
stuffings he’d been working with and cooked the turkey to perfection. He couldn’t think of one thing that he would want to change – it was perfect the way it was. Nah, he thought, it was Stella putting strange worries into his head. He cleared away the remains of the turkey and decided he’d have to be careful with this new manager.

***

Before driving home from work Michael bought Davina her favourite Hotel chocolates and a large bouquet of white roses which she loved. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done to annoy her since their holiday but if they would help get him back into her good books again and put a smile back on her face they’d be well worth it. He was praying she’d want to make love tonight because she was going away for the weekend and this would be their last chance in the ‘good’ week. And a week in which, he reminded himself, they hadn’t done it once so far.

He pulled up outside their three-storey town house and remembered how at first they’d be at it every night in the ‘good’ week until he’d felt his legs wouldn’t carry him around at work and he’d had to ask for a night off.

‘How can we have gone from that to this?’ he muttered under his breath as he walked up the drive. She was never going to get pregnant at this rate.

He put his key in the lock and climbed slowly up the stairs into the open plan lounge. It was a beautiful room furnished with her good taste in light shades of lilac and darker streaks of purple in the accessories. He placed the bouquet in the kitchen sink with an inch of water, made himself a coffee and sat down to wait for her to come home. At seven o’clock she sent him a text apologising that she was late and saying that she would stop off to pick up a pizza on her way home.

He watched the rugby on TV and grumbled at the thought of another fast-food night and wished he’d bought something to cook on the way home.

***

‘If you’d let me know earlier you’d be so late I would have cooked something,’ Michael said poking at the dried up pizza on his plate. It was like chewing rubber, he thought miserably.

Davina
avoided his eyes and looked behind him counting the petals on the purple flowered wallpaper. She took a deep breath determined not to argue with him. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry, Michael. Time just slipped away when I was writing the talk for next week’s seminar. It’s an awful pizza. Shall I make us a sandwich instead?’

He grunted but then decided that being grumpy wouldn’t get her on the right track. He smiled, reached across the table and stroked the back of her hand. ‘No, it’s okay. In fact I’ve got something for you as a nice dessert which will make up for it,’ he said and disappeared into the kitchen. This would get her in the mood, he thought excitedly as he returned with the flowers and chocolates.

‘But it’s not my birthday until Monday,’ she cried burying her nose in the blooms and inhaling the fresh roses. They were beautiful and her eyes widened in delight at her favourite white chocolates lying on the table.

He stood behind her with his arm draped casually along her shoulders. ‘Two days early – but hey, what does that matter?’ He slid his hand down into her shirt and lightly caressed her breast. ‘We could eat the chocolates upstairs in bed.’

The touch of his cool fingers startled her and she recoiled as if she’d been stung. Hastily she tried to make amends. ‘Oh, sorry, I-I just wasn’t expecting…’ she gabbled quietly, then lowered her head and bit the inside of her lip.

Christ, what was wrong with her, Michael thought as he awkwardly removed his hand and straightened his back. He placed both his hands on the back of her chair and gripped it tight staring at his white knuckles. He had to get to the bottom of this. ‘What’s wrong,
Davina?’

She shook her head slightly using her long hair as a shield and continued to gaze down at the chocolates on the table. Jesus, what was she going to say? Her breast was still shivering from where his fingers had been and the involuntary reaction to his touch had unnerved her. She couldn’t bear to hurt him but she didn’t have the energy or desire to make love. She shook herself back to reality, swung round in the chair and looked up at him. ‘It’s nothing, Michael. I’m just really tired.’

He took his hands from the chair and placed them on his hips. ‘I don’t think so. You’ve been tired before and it’s never stopped you. It’s as if you don’t want to be anywhere near me,’ he pleaded. ‘Talk to me, Dee. Whatever’s wrong I know we can fix it…’

She couldn’t bear to see the pain in his eyes and her caring nature took over. She caught hold of his hand, kissed the palm and placed it on the side of her face. ‘Not want you near me? What a load of tosh!’ she said. ‘You’re my husband, Michael. And I love you…’

He ran his other hand into her soft hair and twirled the strands between his fingers. Maybe he was overreacting and she was just tired. He bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘You sure?’

She looked into his eyes and noticed the frown on his forehead. She felt terrible for causing him grief. ‘Of course, I am – you silly goose…’

‘Okay,’ he muttered and nodded slowly.

She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d managed to reassure him. ‘Now I have to get moving to pack my weekend bag for tomorrow,’ she said letting go of his hand.

He pulled back from her and carried the leftover pizza box into the kitchen.