The Mistletoe Pact by Jo Lovett
Then – December 2014
Dan
Dan kept his arm round Manda’s shoulders and tried hard not to watch Evie dancing. She looked amazing in her sparkly blue dress.
The last time he’d seen her they’d been doing some pretty intense – and pretty amazing – kissing on her front doorstep.
He’d thought about that night far too much afterwards, and then he’d managed to put it out of his mind, because Evie was absolutely not someone he should date but, now he was in the same room as her for the first time for a year, it was difficult not to remember again.
Manda turned to look at him. ‘Shall we get out of here? Kind of boring?’ she said.
Shit. He’d been standing next to Manda, thinking about Evie. Terrible behaviour, although clearly no-one could read his thoughts.
‘I’d quite like to stay,’ he said. ‘There are a lot of people here I’d like to talk to. Old friends who I haven’t seen for a while.’ Other than his father. He’d happily avoid one-on-one father-son time.
‘But what about me?’ Manda pouted. And then her whole demeanour brightened and she smiled at someone beyond Dan. He turned to see who’d caught her eye.
It was his father. The man was strutting towards them, wearing a flirtatious smile and holding eye contact with Manda. Dan hadn’t really thought before about his father’s walk, but, yes, it was definitely a strut. Like a peacock.
He hadn’t actually seen him for a whole year before today. He’d only been home a couple of times, both of them day trips to have lunch with his mother when he knew that his father was away. Playing away.
‘I think it’s my turn for a dance.’ His father had reached them and was holding out his hand to Manda.
Manda took the hand, visibly flattered. For God’s sake. Dan couldn’t even be bothered to try to smile.
‘Have fun,’ he said. ‘I’m going to go and find Mum.’
‘She’ll be in the kitchen,’ his father said, ‘fussing over mince pies or something.’ That sounded very dismissive.
On his way to the kitchen, Dan passed Evie, chatting now, in a group. She looked lovely, her eyes sparkling and her hands gesticulating as she told a story. One of the men in the group definitely had his eye on her. Dan didn’t really like the look of him if he was honest. Smarmy.
By the end of the evening, Dan had really had enough. Manda was alternating between obvious boredom and flirting with Dan’s father, the ‘silver fox’, as she called him. His mother was being her usual kind and great-hostess self and clearly pretending that she couldn’t see the flirting between her husband and her son’s girlfriend. His father was just himself. His brother Max was himself too, and being around him nearly always made Dan stressed. He always felt so guilty remembering the accident and its aftermath. And Max was always open and friendly, which just made Dan feel even guiltier, like he was pushing him away. Which he was, really, but he couldn’t help it.
His sisters were great, as always, but he couldn’t talk to them properly without Manda blatantly trying to turn his attention away from them. Similarly, he wasn’t able to chat to his friends unless Manda was being entertained by his father. And then there was Evie, looking stunning in that blue dress, surrounded by admirers, which made him feel more jealous than he’d care to admit. He suddenly desperately wanted to speak to her again.
When he saw that she, her mum and the baby were on their way to the front door, he inserted himself and Manda into a conversation with a group of his father’s male friends, and then slipped away and positioned himself near the door.
As Evie and her mum were leaving the sitting room, Dan caught Evie’s eye and smiled at her. She pressed her lips together for a moment and then began to smile back until her attention was caught by two men – both friends of Max’s, Dan thought – who started chatting animatedly to her and her mother. There was a lot of laughter and then one of the men pointed at the mistletoe above them and next thing the man was planting a kiss on Evie’s lips. Dan felt his own lips twist. He really did not want to see Evie kiss someone else. Which he had no right whatsoever to be thinking, especially given that he was here with Manda.
Evie glanced in Dan’s direction, and he looked away quickly.
Evie, her mother and the two men walked slowly through the hall together, talking and laughing.
Dan really wanted to say goodbye to Evie at least. He busied himself with some other guests who were leaving while he waited for Evie’s little group to be ready to go.
When they finally got to the door, Dan hugged and air-kissed Evie’s mum very heartily, and then hugged and air-kissed Evie even more heartily.
‘Happy birthday and happy Christmas,’ he told her.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled. ‘Happy Christmas.’
And that was it. Off they went.
As he said goodbye to some more people, he saw over their shoulders Evie and her mum begin the walk round the green, her mum carrying the baby, the two women’s heads close together as though they were sharing anecdotes. Their laughter carried back to him on the night air. He loved that they had such a close relationship. He should spend more time with his own mother; he shouldn’t let his feelings about his father keep him away so much. Maybe he shouldn’t leave first thing tomorrow after all. He’d volunteered to work Christmas Day, to avoid his parents, and had unsurprisingly had his hand bitten off by his colleagues, but he could stick around for a few extra hours.
* * *
Dan snuck out of bed early the next morning, leaving Manda asleep, to go for a run. He found Max and his newish boyfriend Greggy in the kitchen, back from a run themselves.
He still, after all these years, hated seeing Max in running kit. He hated being reminded of the outstanding sportsman Max had been and the glittering future he’d missed out on. He hated seeing the scars on his legs and his limp. Because it was all Dan’s fault. The guilt was crushing. Every time. Nearly ten years now.
It felt particularly harsh because Dan – broadly – loved his job, while Max was a sports physio, and realistically who wanted to be a physio to the stars when you should have been one of those stars yourself?
His heart twisted and he started backing out of the kitchen, and then Max said, ‘Morning, stranger. Want some breakfast? Hardly ever see you now.’
Dammit.
He was clearly going to have to stay and chat.
‘I’m about to go for a run myself,’ Dan said, ‘but a cup of coffee would be great if you’re putting the kettle on.’
‘I’m making my legendary pancakes,’ Max said. ‘Just one. With maybe a bit of sugar and lemon? Give it fifteen minutes to digest and you’ll be good for your run?’ Not really possible to say no without looking purposely unfriendly. Shocking, actually, that Dan had no real idea whether Max could cook or not.
‘You’ve twisted my arm.’ He pulled a chair out and sat down with Greggy at the table in the middle of the room.
‘So where do you normally go for your runs when you’re here?’ Greggy asked. ‘We just did a circular one via Little Bishop.’
‘That’s a great one,’ Dan said. ‘I hadn’t decided. I was going to do either that one or one from the opposite end of the village past the church that follows the little stream and some more gentle hills. I was going to wait and see how I felt once I got going.’
‘Not a lot of hills where you are in London?’ Greggy smiled up at Max as Max put a pancake down in front of him, and Max ruffled Greggy’s hair when he’d let go of the plate.
‘Exactly. I live between Earl’s Court and Fulham, which is very flat.’
‘Great area, though.’
‘Yeah, it is. My flat’s a shoebox and it’s above a very fragrant Indian restaurant, which is the only way I could afford to buy in the area, but I love it. And luckily I love curry, and theirs are all delicious.’
‘We should come over and visit you some time. And you should come to us. We can tempt you with hills.’ Greggy and Max had recently moved into a flat together near Alexandra Palace in North London. ‘And Max’s cooking of course.’
‘Or a barbecue when it’s a bit warmer. That’s Greggy’s speciality,’ Max said, flipping the next pancake.
‘That’s a nice way of saying that I’m a rubbish cook in an actual kitchen,’ Greggy said.
‘Hey, probably better than me.’ Dan stood up and took his plate over to Max. ‘I seem to have fallen into the cliché junior-doctor-bad-diet trap recently.’ Amazing how much less difficult it was talking to Max with Greggy around.
Half an hour later, he’d stayed chatting for a lot longer than he’d thought he would and had had three pancakes and had realised that he was going to have to postpone his run for another half hour or get some serious indigestion.
If he was honest, he was looking forward to Manda leaving later this morning to spend Christmas with her parents, and maybe he’d stay around after that for a while, spend some more time with his mother and siblings.
Greggy put another cup of coffee in front of him and he took a sip. Yeah, maybe he should actually stay until this evening instead of leaving this morning. This was really nice.
‘Morning, morning.’ His father strode into the room, doing his usual lord-of-the-manor impression. He clapped his hands together and said, ‘So who’s in for a family game of golf today?’
Dan looked at him briefly, decided that he was leaving this morning after all, chugged half of his too-hot coffee and burned his mouth – he wasn’t going to be able to taste anything properly for days now – and stood up to leave the room.