Christmas is Cancelled

chapter Eleven





Safe and warm, Tilly snuggled down farther beneath the quilt, her head buried into the soft white pillow. She was surprisingly perky, refreshed after a deep, dreamless sleep.

Her relief at seeing a swarm of streetlamps glowing in the distance would live with her for a long time. Chasing them down was the only thing to keep her awake long enough to get through the final miles. A road sign then announced her arrival in Sheffield, with its rooftops swathed in white cloaks and streets carpeted to match.

Squinting against the brightness, she’d weaved the car passed university campuses spread far and wide, not unlike Manchester, and then she’d spied a blessedly familiar sign and pointed the car toward it. There’d been just the one silly moment of panic when she’d remembered it was Christmas Day. Fortunately, there had been plenty of room at the inn.

She’d been so tired she could hardly walk in a straight line from the car to the hotel lobby. The receptionist had probably pegged her as drunk; she wasn’t far wrong really, except for the complete absence of alcohol. A release of endorphins had mercifully numbed her brain, and it was like being in a bubble or having an out of body experience.

It wasn’t going to be pretty when the bubble finally burst, but she couldn’t lounge around all day, waiting for it to happen. Her stomach was distinctly unimpressed at the lack of food, grumbling and making itself heard. There was the slight problem of clothes. Or lack of. While she may be a thief, she still had some standards, and they did not allow her to go around looking like a vagrant all day.

She had her purse and had money in the bank, one of the few resolutions she had managed to achieve, and the Boxing Day sales were already calling to her, luring her, tempting her to tap into those very savings. She didn’t need to buy much though, just enough to get her through a couple of days perhaps. And wasn’t there a saying that when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping?



***



“Phil, are you coming with me or not?” Dean paced at the bottom of the stairs. Tiredness really didn’t become him, it made him cranky, and seeing as he’d barely slept for two nights in a row, the day didn’t bode well.

Why did the worst things only ever happen on Christmas Day? First Jack, then Mum, and now Tilly vanishing. He was jinxed, he had to be. But at least Tilly was still alive. Provided he could find her, he had a chance to make things right with her and maybe salvage something.

“Keep your hair on, I’m coming,” said Phil, making his way down the stairs in his own good time. “Christ, you look even worse than last night. Did you get any sleep?”

“Not that I noticed, now come on, let’s go.”

“How about I drive?” Phil snatched his keys from the side table before Dean could get to them.

“Fine.” Sticking with the plan they’d agreed over breakfast, they went straight to Brian’s. Dean wasn’t optimistic. It didn’t help being torn between wanting to see who she’d been with and wanting to beat him to a pulp for touching her.

He dawdled at the car, and Phil went ahead to ring the doorbell. The curtains twitched, and Dean raced to the front door.

“Someone’s in there,” he said, barging Phil aside and rapping on the door with the brass knocker. “Top left window.” Two more pounding knocks on the front door and the sound of footsteps grew louder, stopping on the other side of the door before it opened a crack. A man peered through the small gap, pallid and not looking at all pleased to see them.

“Brian,” said Phil, confirming the man’s identity.

“Phil.” Brian made it sound like he was expecting Phil to show up. His knuckles had turned white as he gripped the door. “I suppose you’d better come in.”

“Thanks,” said Phil. He stepped inside, leaving Dean to shut the door and catch up.

“I suppose you’ve come about Matilda?” Brian said as he led them into the front room.

Dean couldn’t help checking him out. He looked like an accountant or something equally stuffy, even his voice was flat and lifeless. His hair was cut short in the back and sides, and he was a bit on the scrawny side. He didn’t seem right for Tilly at all. What the hell had she seen in him?

“That’s right.” Phil spread his feet to hip distance apart and crossed his arms over his chest. He must have noticed Brian was avoiding making eye contact, too, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as if he was ready to bolt.

“Such dreadful business,” Brian spoke only to Phil, ignoring Dean altogether, and that suited him fine. “Is that why you’re up here? She left a couple of things behind if you want to take them with you.”

“What dreadful business?” Phil demanded.

“Oh...” Brian wrung his delicate little hands together. The guy had definitely had a manicure recently; his hands didn’t look like they’d ever done a day’s hard graft. “Did she not tell you?”

Phil’s jaw had clenched, along with his fists, and Dean knew exactly how he felt. “I’d rather hear your version of it.” It didn’t seem possible, but Brian blanched even more.

“I never meant to upset her, she was supposed to be on the staff Christmas lunch with everybody else. I wasn’t expecting her to bring me some lunch first.”

“What...” Brian swallowed, his Adam’s apple working overtime.

Dean had heard enough. “She walked in on you having sex with someone else, didn’t she?” Brian looked at him as if he’d only just realized there was somebody else in the room.

“Is that right?” Phil roared.

Brian flinched and backed against the wall at the same time as Dean grabbed Phil’s arms, like a careful choreographed move. “It was a mistake...” muttered Brian, foolishly seeing Dean as an ally just because he’d stopped Phil from pummeling him. “A one-off. Matilda was never meant to find out. Maybe you could tell her, put a word in for me?”

“No chance.” Dean had met some jackasses in his time, but this guy was unbelievable. “And I don’t believe for a second that it was a one-off.”

Brian’s shoulders slumped but then his demeanor changed in an instant. His eyes narrowed as he zoomed in on Dean’s face. “Hey, I know you,” he spat. “You’re the bloke from the photo.”

Oh, this was getting better and better. If he was really going to try and pick a fight, he was an even bigger idiot than he looked. He seemed to have forgotten Phil, now red in the face from struggling to get free. “So?”

“It’s practically your fault, you know.” Brian jabbed his finger toward Dean, but he didn’t have the guts to get any closer. “She used to moon over that damned photo whenever she thought I wasn’t looking. She was never mine, always yours. It doesn’t do much for a man’s ego.”

Dean had heard it all now. “How the f*ck is it my fault you can’t keep your dick inside your trousers?”

“At least Kerry made me feel special, not a poor second best.”

“Kerry? Tilly’s old flatmate Kerry?” Phil burst out of Dean’s grip and slammed his fist into Brian’s face. Too late to stop the first punch, Dean barely managed to stop the second. Phil was like a rabid dog straining on the leash. “It wasn’t enough to screw around on Tilly, you had to go and do it with her best friend?” It was strangely gratifying to see blood pouring from Brian’s nose, the lowlife.

“Come on, Phil, let’s get out of here,” Dean’s muscles screamed as he tried to drag Phil away.

“But—”

“He’s not worth it, there’s no way she’d come here. We need to keep looking.” Dean’s words finally got through to Phil and he stopped struggling.

Brian had been watching their exchange, and he ran to block the door. “You mean she’s not with you?”

“Like we’d tell you, scumbag,” Phil sneered. “And if you ever see or speak to my sister again, you’ll have me to answer to. Now move.”

Brian hesitated but then obviously thought better of it and stepped aside to reach for a couple of plastic bags. “At least give her these.” Dean snatched the bags and led Phil out of the front door without a backward glance at Brian.

“What a slimy bastard! I never did understand what she saw in him,” Phil said as they got back in the car. “At least we know not to bother with Kerry’s now, there’s no way Tilly would go there.”

“No. We’re right back at square one.”

“I guess that means she’s out of a job too.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Oh, she didn’t just live with him, she was his PA, and Kerry works on reception.”

“No wonder she was in such a state, she’d lost everything, and then she couldn’t even get to you.” It was a good thing Phil was driving; otherwise, Dean would have turned round and finished what Phil had started.

“Yeah, it explains why she was so quick to jump into bed with you, eh?”

Did it? Was he really just the rebound guy?



***



Tilly triumphantly dropped the bags and boxes onto the bed. A successful end to a full day’s shopping. Clothes, shoes, toiletries, makeup... It cluttered up the entire surface. She’d perhaps gone a teeny bit overboard, but there were some absolute bargains to be had, and she’d have been a fool to not buy them.

Hanging the haul of clothes on the wardrobe rail one by one, she stepped back to admire them and congratulated herself. It looked nothing like her old wardrobe; gone were the stiff navy and gray suits, in were the pretty, floaty feminine dresses and skirts.

Her favorite outfit by far was a gorgeous occasion dress. All chiffon and ethereal looking with a plunging neckline and nipped-in waist, highlighting her best features, making her look hourglass and voluptuous yet still elegant and classy. The pale green suited her complexion and really made her eyes pop, but it was the metallic blue thread, delicately embroidered throughout, that clinched the deal.

She didn’t even want to think about the price tag. Heavens knew when she’d actually get to wear it. When the time did come, she’d be ready with the satin blue shoes and bag to match. Shopping was definitely one of her best skills, Dean was going to love i—

Pop!

The bubble burst, and her heart seemed to rip open, tearing itself in two as an agonizing pain seared across her chest, spreading down her limbs until her body shook uncontrollably at the strain of staying upright. Oh God, it was so obvious. Of course she’d been thinking of him when she’d bought it—the blue matched his eyes perfectly. Her legs gave way, crumpling beneath her, and she dropped to the floor, tears bursting through the dam and flooding over into her lap.

Dean had done nothing but treat her like a princess, a gallant knight in shining armor. Or maybe that should be a knight in shining Armani? When everything had collapsed around her, he’d shown up and stepped up to the challenge. He’d taken her in when she had nowhere else to go and looked after her. He’d even gone out of his way to make Christmas special for her.

Together they had shared something out of this world. Something beyond even her wildest dreams, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex—which far surpassed any of the fantasies she’d conjured up during the previous dozen years—but because they’d connected on every level: friends, lovers, soul mates... It was the stuff of fairy tales.

Dean had finally revealed his true feelings and left himself open and vulnerable. She’d repaid him by ignoring his anguished pleas and fleeing on a seed of doubt sown by her own brother. A brother who had been interfering with their lives all along, doing everything he could to keep them apart. Yet in the end it had been Dean’s sense of honor preventing anything happening between them.

The two things didn’t go together. How could a man so concerned about honor and loyalty be capable of cold-blooded murder?

She’d accused Dean of going through some makeover experience, but at least he was still true to himself. He was just a more polished and better dressed version. For ten years, she’d been trying to be someone she wasn’t, someone sensible and responsible, logical and practical, happy to conform to expectations and make do with second best. She’d even messed with her hair, dyeing it brown to hide the spark that was her very nature.

Well, enough was enough. To hell with Phil, to hell with it all, she was done with running away. She’d spent her whole life running... From her parents, from the ghost of Sam, from Brian, from Dean, even from herself.

A frisson of excitement zapped life into her legs, and she lurched to her feet, stumbling toward the shower. With her mind made up, there was no way it could wait until morning. The time had come to take back control of her life and fight for what she wanted.

And what she wanted, what she’d always wanted, was Dean. It didn’t matter what he’d done, she loved him. They’d figure something out, and together they could try and build a future. No more holding back.