A Christmas Night to Remember(45)
‘I love you.’ He moved slightly, relieving her of his weight but still keeping his arms round her as he fitted her into his side, pulling the duvet over them.
‘I love you.’ She could say that and mean it, but her voice was thick with the knowledge that she was going to lose him. ‘So much. Always remember that.’
Zeke fell asleep quite quickly, but although she was utterly exhausted Melody couldn’t doze off. She lay in his arms, warmly relishing the closeness as her thoughts tortured her. They had made love for a second time and he still hadn’t seen what the lorry had done to the once perfect body he had so adored. She had thought the moment had come, and although she had been terrified there had been an element of relief there too. But she’d had yet another reprieve.
She shivered, the slight movement causing Zeke to tighten his embrace in his sleep, but after another moment she carefully extricated herself from his arms and crept out of bed. The hotel room was warm and her hair was almost dry already, but again she felt a shudder run through her.
Quietly she left his bedroom and made her way to her own after picking up her clothes. Once there, she pulled on a pair of leggings and a warm thigh-length top, brushing her hair into submission and then securing it in a high ponytail at the back of her head. Then she walked over to the window and looked out.
It was five o’clock in the morning on Christmas Day. The night hours were almost over. In a little while children all over the country would be waking up to see what Father Christmas had brought them. Houses and flats and apartments would be filled with excitement and noise, and later families would gather together for Christmas lunch. Mothers would be harassed and flushed from working in the kitchen and keeping over-exuberant offspring from raiding their selection boxes, fathers would be playing host and plying visitors with pre-lunch drinks, and grandparents would be arriving with that extra-special present their grandchildren thought Father Christmas had forgotten.
It was a day of busyness and joy and elation, of eating and drinking too much, playing silly games and watching TV. That was normal, the way people did things—only she had never had that experience as a child. Her grandmother had been of the old school. One small stocking hung on the mantelpiece, containing an orange, a monetary gift and a small toy, had been her lot, and Christmas Day had been like any other day except they’d had turkey for lunch followed by Christmas pud. They had spent it alone, and although her grandmother must have received Christmas cards she couldn’t remember any. Certainly there had been no decorations nor a tree. After her grandmother had died and she’d been invited to friends’ houses for the Christmas break she had been amazed at the furore and excitement, at the sheer pleasure everyone got from the day. It had been a revelation of what Christmas could be.
Why was she thinking of this now? she asked herself, gazing out over the snow-covered buildings beyond the hotel, their rooftops white against the black sky. The past was the past and it didn’t do to dwell on it. Her grandmother had done her best and she had always known her grandmother loved her in her own way. She had been fortunate compared to some. Zeke, for instance.
She moved restlessly, suddenly aware of why her thoughts had taken such a turn. Deep inside she had always known Zeke was her chance of experiencing what other people took as ordinary family life. There had been a part of her that had hoped they could create their own world within the world—a place where children could be born and loved and protected, where all the things they’d both missed in their childhood could be given to their babies. She had hoped, but always not quite convinced herself.
And she had never believed she was good enough for him. So she had held back on total commitment, subconsciously waiting for the time when the bubble would burst. She had always been striving towards an unattainable pinnacle of perfection, and although he had taken her as his wife and loved her she hadn’t felt she was the best person for him.
Maybe if she had known her mother and father it would have been different—or her mother at least. She had always felt there was so much missing in her background, and her grandmother had been chary about discussing anything. Even the briefest sojourn into the past had brought such bitterness and pain on her grandmother’s side she hadn’t felt she could press for more. And so she’d grown up wondering, all the time wondering, without any answers about the people who had given her life.
Melody closed her eyes, wrapping her arms round her middle as she shook her head slowly. All this wasn’t really relevant to what she was facing now. She was a grown woman of twenty-seven and she had to move on. She had to leave Zeke—go somewhere far away, get a job and carve out some sort of a life for herself. Her thoughts ran through her head, a silent litany. She had told herself the same thing so many times in the past three months, willing herself on.