The moment Bree opened the front door, Dylan shot out like he’d been fired from a cannon.
‘Unca Tardis! Santa’s been. Come and see what he’s brought.’
Travis swept him up. ‘You must have been good, then?’ He inhaled. ‘You smell like a chocolate factory.’
‘Mummy said it was OK to have Rudolph for breakfast today.’
Freya smiled at him as he grinned in Travis’s arms. ‘Well, it is Christmas Day,’ she said, thinking that if Dylan could eat chocolate for breakfast, she could pretend to be part of Travis’s family. She’d only agreed to come to lunch if Travis called Bree and asked her if it was OK. He’d done as she asked and claimed her reply had been ‘the more the merrier’ and that she was more than happy to welcome Freya. She didn’t push it but she was wondering exactly what reasons he’d given his sister for her coming with him.
Travis lowered Dylan to the ground and the child stared at Freya. ‘Are you having dinner with us?’
Freya was about to reply when Bree appeared, wearing an Elf apron. Her grin for Travis faded slightly when she saw Freya but was soon in place again. ‘Freya.’
Travis jumped in: ‘We’ve brought some food with us.’
Freya clutched the hamper, half-wishing she’d never been persuaded into coming. ‘Bit last minute, thank you for having me,’ she said lightly.
‘Mummy?’ Dylan said plaintively. ‘Is our turkey big enough?’
‘It’s big enough for everyone, poppet.’ Bree took Dylan’s hand and addressed herself to Freya and Travis. ‘Not even my brothers can eat the monster Gav ordered. He got the wrong weight and I was worried we’d be eating turkey curry for weeks.’ She rolled her eyes, but Freya still felt uncomfortable.
‘Bree! Who’s that at the door?’ Gav’s voice came from inside the hall.
‘It’s Travis and er, Freya.’
‘Freya? What’s she doing here?’
‘Gav. They’re on the doorstep!’ Bree shouted, the edge of panic hard to disguise, adding, ‘I did tell him. He probably wasn’t listening as usual!’
Gav appeared, wearing a Santa hat, gawping at Freya as if she was the fairy on top of the Christmas tree. If only she could have flown away, she thought, she’d have been out of there in a heartbeat. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Hello. Sorry, forgot you were coming. It’s been a crazy morning.’
Squirming, Freya grinned sheepishly. ‘I hope the wine in the hamper will help’.
Freya caught the flicker of surprise – or disapproval – in Bree’s eyes before she opened the door wide and said cheerfully: ‘I’m sure it will. Come on in. Gav will pour us all a drink.’
Freya had to give Bree and Gav credit; after the initial awkward reception, they made Freya more than welcome, almost too welcome, with Bree chattering away about the children, apologising for the chaos and urging Freya to make herself at home amid the wrapping paper and toys and empty cereal bowls.
The easy-going Gav didn’t seem to care, probably relieved that he had extra people there to keep Dylan and Rosie entertained while he poured the champagne and helped in the kitchen.
He handed over two glasses of fizz to Freya and Travis. ‘So. You two. You’re a thing now, are you?’
Following him in with bowls of nuts, Bree shot him a glare. ‘Leave them alone, Gav. They don’t want you sounding like a granny.’
‘We’re friends really …’ Freya said.
‘Friends?’ Gav said. ‘Is that what they call it now?’
‘Gav!’
‘Sorry, love. I, er, just thought that you two … Bree said you were seeing each other once.’
‘At school,’ Bree said.
‘It was in the sixth form,’ Travis said gruffly. ‘And it was a very long time ago.’
Dylan hurtled up. ‘I want to play Twister!’
‘Me too,’ Travis declared. ‘Right now.’
‘Can’t think of anything I’d rather do,’ Freya added, putting down her glass. ‘Let’s go for it.’
‘Gav?’ Travis asked.
Gav grimaced as if he’d been offered root canal work. ‘Er. I need to help Bree in the kitchen.’
A few minutes later, Dylan was giggling helplessly while Freya was wishing she’d gone to yoga class and Travis was muttering that he ‘might pull something crucial’. Dylan was spinning the wheel, issuing orders and lying on his back giggling hysterically as the ‘grown-ups’ contorted themselves into convoluted shapes.
‘Sorry about this,’ Travis murmured from somewhere behind Freya. She couldn’t see his face, only hear him grunting.
‘I thought it wasn’t the best idea.’ She tried to look between her legs to see him. ‘Ow!’
‘Red hand!’ Dylan screeched.
‘It was never this hard when I was a kid!’ Travis moaned, stretching for a red spot underneath Freya. ‘Is he making this up?’
‘Yellow foot!’ Dylan barked. ‘Do it now!
‘He’s going to grow up to be a drill sergeant,’ Travis muttered. ‘Argh. Oh God, I’m going down!’
Freya rolled away too late to prevent Travis from toppling forward on top of her. She lay on her back with him straddling her. They both burst into uncontrollable giggles as Dylan danced around squealing with delight.
‘Well, well, bro, if Twister’s this much fun, I might have to play it myself.’
Travis sprang up and Freya scrambled up after him. Dylan ran over and hugged his legs and Seb put his guitar down on the sofa and swept his nephew up into his arms. ‘How are you, big man?’
‘Santa’s been!’ he declared.
‘Has he, now? Who knew?’ Seb replied.
Bree walked in, with Rosie in her arms. ‘Hello! Better late than never.’
‘I’m not late. The others are early. Wasn’t expecting this to be a party,’ Seb said, drawing a glare from Travis and making Freya cringe afresh.
‘Well, it is now and I say the more the merrier,’ Bree declared. ‘Now, who wants a drink? Gav! Mine’s a G&T! A large one.’
The next few hours were spent amid organised chaos, with the kids hyper and the room a sea of wrapping paper. Freya and Travis offered to help out but Bree said she’d prefer it if they entertained the children while she and Gav got on with preparing dinner.
Seb didn’t make any more comments on Freya’s presence and was kept busy by his nephew and niece who wanted to see his guitar.
‘After lunch,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
It was cosy in Bree’s living room, with everyone crammed around the table on an assortment of chairs and stools, plus Rosie in a highchair. After lunch, they flopped out on the sofas. Rosie had a nap, Seb played with Dylan while Travis and Freya helped Bree wash up and clear away.
Darkness had fallen again by the time they’d all eaten and drunk their body weight in chocolate and Baileys. Freya took the rubbish outside to the dustbin, lingering to look up at the stars, and the cottage lights scrambling up the side of the fells. A hush had descended on the village streets.
‘O, little town of Bannerdale …’ Travis sang quietly from behind her. ‘How still we see thee lie … It looks peaceful.’
She turned and he slipped his arms around her waist. ‘For one day, at least. I hope I haven’t caused trouble by turning up with you.’
‘Told you it would be OK,’ he said.
‘Bree was a bit shocked. I don’t blame her but she’s made me very welcome.’
‘She’s all right, my sister.’
Freya shivered. ‘Let’s go back in before they think the elves have captured us.’
They walked back to the house and heard music.
They walked in to find Seb sitting in the armchair playing ‘Jingle Bells’, with Dylan attempting to sing it. Rosie was jigging along from on Bree’s lap.
‘Anyone would think we were in The Sound of Music,’ Travis said and everyone burst out laughing.
‘I can play “Edelweiss” if you’ll dress up in those weird leather shorts,’ Seb said, sticking on a cheesy grin and strumming the opening bars of the song.
‘I’d like to see that too,’ Freya said.
Travis opened his mouth to protest but Dylan took charge. ‘Play “Jingle Bells”, Seb!’
‘OK, big man, but only if you sit and listen quietly.’
With a shortage of seats, Travis sat on the carpet at Freya’s feet. Dylan squeezed onto the sofa between her and Bree, while Gav flopped down in the armchair.
Seb played and sang along to his folky version of ‘Jingle Bells’ before switching to ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’.
Dylan listened quietly, snuggling up to Freya.
‘Shall we take the tempo down a bit?’ Seb winked at Bree and started to play ‘Silent Night’. Before he’d got to the end of the first verse, Dylan’s eyelids drooped. His lashes fluttered on his cheek and he gently flopped over, with his head resting on Freya’s lap. She didn’t dare move and she didn’t want to.
There was a loud snore from the armchair.
Everyone looked and suppressed giggles. Gav was spark out, catching flies.
‘I’ve never sent an audience to sleep before,’ Seb murmured, taking the guitar off.
It was such a contrast with Jos’s grand house, and the lunch with siblings jostling for power. This fractured family, who’d spent so many Christmases apart, were finally together. Once again Freya reminded herself that she didn’t really belong but with Dylan dozing on her, she felt she might have earned her place for a little while.
Travis caught her eye, looking thoughtful – sad almost – then he smiled.
Gav was still sleeping deeply in his chair, causing Bree to roll her eyes good-naturedly. She got up with a ‘shh’ finger at everyone. Very carefully, she extricated Dylan from Freya’s lap. He snuffled and sighed but stayed asleep, while she carried him out of the room.
Freed of his weight and warmth, Freya felt strangely bereft.
Easing himself off the sofa, Travis murmured. ‘I’ll just use the bathroom and collect our coats. Give Gav and Bree a chance to chill out.’
Seb got up too and found his guitar case from behind the chair. ‘I’m off to the pub. Nice to see you, Freya. Have a good evening, you two. I’m sure you will.’
He was silenced by a glare from Travis who flipped a thumb indicating Seb should join him in the hall. Their voices were low and although Freya couldn’t hear the exact words, she could guess that Travis might be asking Seb to be discreet about their ‘relationship’.
The front door closed softly and the stairs creaked as Travis made his way upstairs. Freya was left alone, wondering whether she should try to tidy away the glasses or wash up – then thinking that Bree might not want her poking around the kitchen alone, after she’d helped to clear up after lunch. She wondered whether to tidy the children’s toys into their baskets but didn’t want to wake Gav, now snoring again in his chair. Bree had been so busy, she felt she ought to do something.
As quietly as she could, she picked up a fabric basket and started to gather up Rosie’s toys. The fluffy squirrel had rolled by the side of the sofa. She reached for it and heard a voice speaking from the teddy.
‘Travis?’
It sounded like Bree, but her words were indistinct.
‘What?’ The answering voice was unmistakeably Travis.
‘I need a word with you.’
Freya picked up the squirrel and spotted the baby monitor with its red flashing light. With a glance behind to check if Gav was still asleep, she kneeled beside it, listening to the conversation being relayed through the speaker.
‘Now? You’ll wake up Dylan and Freya’s waiting for me downstairs.’
‘You’re not getting away yet. I hope you know what you’re doing with her’.
Though horrified at hearing herself discussed in this way, Freya leaned down to hear better.
‘You said you were fine with her coming.
‘I could hardly say no, could I? You’d have been upset and angry with me, and it would have been plain bloody rude to Freya. That doesn’t mean I’m happy with the situation. You were a wreck the last time you … involved with her!’
‘I was eighteen. I’ve grown up a bit if you hadn’t noticed and you’ve no idea what “the situation” is.’ Travis’s voice was cold. Freya felt she was witnessing her own car crash.
‘Something’s going on, that’s for sure and it’s not “just good friends” either! I hope you know what you’re doing, Freya hardly has the greatest track record where relationships are concerned.’
The words were clearer now as Bree’s voice rose in volume. Freya clutched the squirrel tighter, straining to hear Travis’s reply.
‘If you mean Jos Beresford, I heard what happened and I don’t care. Besides, we’re keeping things casual. It made sense to hook up for Christmas.’
‘“Hook up”? You call bringing your ex here for a family Christmas dinner, “hooking up” and “casual”.’
‘I’m not discussing this with you!’ Travis cried and a second later, there was a low wail.
‘Shit. Now look what you’ve done!’
‘Me? You’re the one who wanted to give me a lecture about my love life.’
‘A love life? Is it love? Are you going to let her hurt you all over again? Then take off to lick your wounds!’
Freya stomach churned. The monitor crackled and she put her head closer to it. Gav let out a loud snore.
‘You can rest assured, sister dearest, that I’m in no danger whatsoever of being hurt. We’re not in love. Not even close, so you can stop worrying.’
Bree’s reply was lost amid the wails of a crying baby.
For the next few seconds, Freya was a crouching statue on the carpet, toy in hand, trying to process what she’d heard. At the thud of heavy footsteps from above, she sprang up and whirled round, wondering if Gav had seen or heard any of it.
He was still lost to the world.
Her paralysis gave way to an urgent desire to leave the right there and then, coat or not. She threw the squirrel on the sofa and hurried into the hall, not caring if Gav woke, but hoping Travis would hear her close the lounge door as hard as she dared.
He was already jogging down the stairs, coats over his arms and a thunderous expression on his face. Behind him, the screams of a tired baby rang through the house, then a plaintive howl of ‘Mummeeee!’ that was unmistakably Dylan.
He shoved Freya’s coat at her. ‘Come on, we’re going.’
‘I should, um, thank Bree,’ Freya muttered with zero enthusiasm.
‘I’d leave it if I were you,’ he snapped, pulling the front door open.
Moments later they were out in the frosty street, marching back to Freya’s cottage. The cold hit her lungs and her chest tightened but it was the chill between them that froze her far more. Travis didn’t know she’d heard …
She doesn’t have the greatest track record where relationships are concerned.
The words she’d overheard from Bree stung like salt in a wound, because she couldn’t deny them – but none hurt as much as Travis saying he wasn’t even close to being in love with her.