‘Really. Like the bloody Kardashians. I can’t be dealing with that. Can you pass me the snowflakes?’
Angela did as she was asked. She learned that Tom had a total of six half-siblings and five step-siblings; that his parents had divorced when he was three; and that he’d been away at boarding school since he was six years old, only recently moving to London to live with his godfather while he attended MPW.
‘I’ve never really lived at home or had that stable-family thing,’ he told her. ‘Not like Logan. I think the situation’s much harder for her.’
‘In what way?’ asked Angela. She was desperate to know what Logan had said to Tom. Like Brett, Logan did a good job of concealing her true feelings. Since she’d moved in with Jason and Tati, Angela felt as if she’d lost her completely.
‘She misses her dad,’ Tom said simply. ‘I think she assumed he’d be home for Christmas. She was really cut up when she heard he wasn’t coming.’
She’s not the only one, thought Angela.
‘She thinks it’s her fault.’
‘Why on earth would she think that?’ said Angela, shocked.
‘Because of the fire. Because she left home and moved in with Jason and Tatiana. I don’t think she planned on that being a permanent thing. She thought some distance might calm her dad down, that’s all. And maybe, you know, her not being in the house might give you and him more romantic time. Or something.’ Tom blushed, fearing he might have overstepped the mark. ‘But now she thinks her leaving is what made everything worse. I told her it doesn’t work like that.’
‘What doesn’t work like that?’ Logan appeared in the hallway, weighed down with Tesco bags.
‘Nothing,’ said Tom, scrambling down the ladder and relieving her of the shopping. ‘Do you like our tree?’
‘It’s gorgeous,’ Logan beamed, successfully distracted.
He’s so gentlemanly, thought Angela, watching her daughter gaze lovingly into Tom’s eyes. So sweet. I do so hope they stay together.
The things Tom had told her worried her deeply. She knew that the thought of Logan blaming herself for her and Brett’s current estrangement would upset Brett as much as it upset her. That gave them some common ground, at least. After Christmas she and Brett absolutely must sit down together and sort things out. For all their sakes.
‘Oh God, which ones do you think I should bring?’
Jason watched, perplexed, as Tatiana ran a frazzled hand through her long, tangled hair. She was naked in their bedroom in Eaton Gate, surveying the bed, which she’d littered with just about every dress she owned. Shoes of all shapes, colours and sizes were strewn across the floor. It was mayhem.
‘It’s Christmas at home, not the Oscars,’ Jason said gently, handing her a dressing gown. He had never quite got used to Tati’s total lack of inhibition about her body, perhaps because he had never felt comfortable in his own skin.
‘You don’t understand.’ She bit her bottom lip and looked close to tears.
Jason put an arm around her and pulled her down onto the bed beside him. It wasn’t often he saw her so vulnerable.
‘Explain to me, then. Do you not want to go to Furlings for Christmas?’
‘No, no. I do.’ Tati shook her head.
‘Because we can stay in a hotel if the house is too much for you. If it brings back too many memories,’ Jason said kindly.
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s not the house. It does bring back memories, of course. But they’re good ones. Most of them, anyway.’
‘Well what then? You know Mum loves you. She couldn’t care less what dress you wear or what presents we bring.’