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Authors: Patricia Fawcett
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mornings a week.’
‘I see. What does your mother do again?’
‘She’s good with figures and she’s always helped Dad in the business,’ she told him. It was a labour of love, always had been and she knew that her mother did not receive a proper salary for her contribution but until recently she seemed to enjoy just being there once or twice a week.
‘She’s retired then?’
‘Don’t say that. She’s not sixty yet but I think she just got tired of it.’
She was regretting her impulsive decision to invite Brian for Christmas for, to be honest, they didn’t know each other that well, had jumped into bed far too soon and a relationship based purely on sex was on a hiding to nothing. There had to be more to it than that. She suspected her parents were delighted that she had asked somebody along at last, her mother already acting as if this was it and that a wedding would be in the offing before long.
‘They’ll like you,’ she went on quickly. ‘And don’t take any notice if my mother starts to quiz you. It’s just her way.’
‘I thought you said it was your father who would be quizzing me?’
‘Both of them, I’m afraid. I don’t see them very often and they want to know everything that’s been going on since the last time. As you are something new I’m afraid you’re for it. My mother’s interrogation technique is second to none. She’ll know more about you in half an hour than I’ve found out in three months.’
It was a gentle dig but for once he did not respond negatively.
‘I can handle that,’ he said displaying that confidencethat she liked about him. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting everybody, Amy. I have nobody to call family so it’s interesting to know how these things operate.’
‘Oh no, that sounds ominous.’ She kept her voice light although something was niggling at her. ‘I hope it won’t be too much of an ordeal. My brother and I usually come to blows.’
‘Why is that?’
‘We’re just too different. It’s not unusual. It’s a brother and sister thing,’ she added with a smile.
He returned her smile, reached for her hand and squeezed it, which made her feel a lot better. Christmas always did this to her, put her on edge, and she knew she should just learn to relax and enjoy it for once. Maybe Monique was right; maybe she did take life much too seriously. She was not going to allow Monique to annoy her, not this time, but she would have to remind herself to count to ten before she said the wrong thing. She always spoke too soon where that little lady was concerned. Monique had perfected the art of looking as if she was about to burst into tears, a look that tore at the heart of any man. It was a useful trait but not one she could emulate. Amy did not cry often but when she did it was the genuine article and she preferred to do it alone because the heaving shoulders, the funny strangled gulping sounds, snot-filled nose, and panda eyes that accompanied her crying was not pretty to behold. Just now, as she sat in the car in front of the house she knew as home, a little stirring inside came as a warning that, emotionally, the sight of it affected her deeply, so she quickly sniffed away the slightest hint of that, reverting to the brisk and business-like exterior she liked to present to the world.
‘It’s only a flying visit anyway,’ she went on, trying to reassure herself as much as Brian. ‘I can’t afford to take much time off at this time of year. We open up again the day after Boxing Day but I’m giving that one a miss. We shan’t rest until we’ve got the sales over.’
‘Don’t talk shop.’
‘Sorry.’ He was, she knew, becoming increasingly impatient with that and she vowed not to mention the store again over the next couple of days although she could not guarantee that nobody else would. Their arrival had surely been noticed and suddenly she was anxious to get the introductions over. Maybe, if she was lucky, she might actually enjoy
‘I see. What does your mother do again?’
‘She’s good with figures and she’s always helped Dad in the business,’ she told him. It was a labour of love, always had been and she knew that her mother did not receive a proper salary for her contribution but until recently she seemed to enjoy just being there once or twice a week.
‘She’s retired then?’
‘Don’t say that. She’s not sixty yet but I think she just got tired of it.’
She was regretting her impulsive decision to invite Brian for Christmas for, to be honest, they didn’t know each other that well, had jumped into bed far too soon and a relationship based purely on sex was on a hiding to nothing. There had to be more to it than that. She suspected her parents were delighted that she had asked somebody along at last, her mother already acting as if this was it and that a wedding would be in the offing before long.
‘They’ll like you,’ she went on quickly. ‘And don’t take any notice if my mother starts to quiz you. It’s just her way.’
‘I thought you said it was your father who would be quizzing me?’
‘Both of them, I’m afraid. I don’t see them very often and they want to know everything that’s been going on since the last time. As you are something new I’m afraid you’re for it. My mother’s interrogation technique is second to none. She’ll know more about you in half an hour than I’ve found out in three months.’
It was a gentle dig but for once he did not respond negatively.
‘I can handle that,’ he said displaying that confidencethat she liked about him. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting everybody, Amy. I have nobody to call family so it’s interesting to know how these things operate.’
‘Oh no, that sounds ominous.’ She kept her voice light although something was niggling at her. ‘I hope it won’t be too much of an ordeal. My brother and I usually come to blows.’
‘Why is that?’
‘We’re just too different. It’s not unusual. It’s a brother and sister thing,’ she added with a smile.
He returned her smile, reached for her hand and squeezed it, which made her feel a lot better. Christmas always did this to her, put her on edge, and she knew she should just learn to relax and enjoy it for once. Maybe Monique was right; maybe she did take life much too seriously. She was not going to allow Monique to annoy her, not this time, but she would have to remind herself to count to ten before she said the wrong thing. She always spoke too soon where that little lady was concerned. Monique had perfected the art of looking as if she was about to burst into tears, a look that tore at the heart of any man. It was a useful trait but not one she could emulate. Amy did not cry often but when she did it was the genuine article and she preferred to do it alone because the heaving shoulders, the funny strangled gulping sounds, snot-filled nose, and panda eyes that accompanied her crying was not pretty to behold. Just now, as she sat in the car in front of the house she knew as home, a little stirring inside came as a warning that, emotionally, the sight of it affected her deeply, so she quickly sniffed away the slightest hint of that, reverting to the brisk and business-like exterior she liked to present to the world.
‘It’s only a flying visit anyway,’ she went on, trying to reassure herself as much as Brian. ‘I can’t afford to take much time off at this time of year. We open up again the day after Boxing Day but I’m giving that one a miss. We shan’t rest until we’ve got the sales over.’
‘Don’t talk shop.’
‘Sorry.’ He was, she knew, becoming increasingly impatient with that and she vowed not to mention the store again over the next couple of days although she could not guarantee that nobody else would. Their arrival had surely been noticed and suddenly she was anxious to get the introductions over. Maybe, if she was lucky, she might actually enjoy
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