At six o'clock in the morning, Connor woke up when he felt the mattress dip beside him as Duke stood, stretching out his paws with a whine of a yawn. He jumped off the bed with a thump and Connor rolled over with a sigh, his hand on his forehead as he slowly introduced himself to the day. Six days until Christmas. That was the first thought that entered his mind, and his heart dropped to his stomach like a brick to the ground. Six days in which he was resigned to helping out a vastly pregnant virtual stranger who could hardly walk, six days in which he would be forced to come face to face with every element of Christmas that he hated.
It was his own fault. He knew that. He had offered, in part to clear the guilty conscience that overwhelmed him, and in part to help out someone in need. Which part dominated, he wasn't sure, but he knew that Cass was wrong. It was his duty to help out Posy, not just the result of a crush: he had taken away her freedom, he told himself, and the least he could do was give it back.
Suppressing a yawn, he dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom, refusing to turn the light on when it was still dark outside. He was a naturally early riser and it didn't bother him to be getting up before the sun, but the bathroom light was blinding and he left it off as he went about his morning business. As he brushed his teeth, he could hear Duke padding around in the hallway outside, waiting for his morning walk.
Today, Connor knew better. He had Cass's hat and gloves waiting with his scarf downstairs, and a relatively new pair of wellies that wouldn't let the dew seep through to his socks. He had learnt his lesson after last night, when he had peeled off damp socks before bed to find that his toes were chilly and wrinkled, too distracted by the Posy situation to think about his wet feet.
At six twenty, Connor buttoned his coat up to his neck and tied his scarf in a knot, pulling down the thick hat to cover his ears and yanking on the wellies over a long pair of socks into which he had tucked his tracksuit bottoms. Prepared for the cold that would increase as soon as he opened the front door, he clipped on Duke's lead: he wasn't taking any chances this time.
There was no-one around. The village was silent as they walked along the pavement, and Connor's eyes gravitated towards Posy's house as he passed it, but every curtain was pulled and no light seeped through. She was asleep, he imagined. Rather, he hoped. It was far too early to be up, and she had been so shattered last night that he hoped she would let herself rest. The smallest smile found its way onto his lips, but then Cass jumped into his mind and he got rid of it as he imagined her chastising him for even wanting to befriend Posy. Although he hadn't seen a ton of his sister since he had left home, she still seemed to know him inside out.
The only problem with going for a long walk with no-one else around, the sky still dark and murky before the sun rose, was that it gave Connor time to think. He had a tendency to get lost in thought, drowning in the maze that was his mind as he tried to navigate a minefield of memories that popped up when he was least expecting it. Though he enjoyed time alone, relishing in his own company, he sometimes found that he was drained by his own brain. Whenever he found himself in a moment of peace, at one with himself, he would be bombarded by snippets of thoughts like newspaper clippings, fluttering into his mind until they overflowed and he couldn't wade through the piles of jumbled remembrances.
As though Duke sensed Connor digging himself into a hole, he barked and ran for a stick, bounding back to his owner and dropping it at his feet. Connor bent down to throw it, aiming only as far as he could see. The light was creeping in, the horizon slowly growing a little brighter, though it was still a rainbow of greys. Duke bounded after the stick, every part the typical dog in his love for a game of fetch. Throughout his childhood, Connor had had a Labrador that held no interest whatsoever in such dog-like activities, except for the occasional squirrel chase.
"Good boy," he said when the stick was dropped at his feet again, and he threw it a little further to tire Duke out for the day. If he was going to be with Posy, his dog wouldn't get as much exercise as usual. Ordinarily, between his twice-daily walks, Duke regularly pottered into the village with Connor, or at least had access to the back garden. Connor made a mental note to enlist Cass as dog sitter for the day. In that respect, it was quite useful to have her around.
Without Connor realising, having left his phone at home, almost two hours had passed by the time he got back. The fields around Coalden Valley stretched for miles and Duke had plenty of energy to bound for hours, and when Connor retreated into his own mind, his feet worked of their own accord. At eight fifteen, he unlocked the front door and ushered Duke into the house, most of the village still dozing. Except now there was a light on in Posy's house, but no message in his inbox.
"Hey," Cass called from the kitchen. Connor trod down on the heels of his wellies to pull them off, balling up the gloves in the pockets of his coat before he headed towards his sister's voice. She was hunched over the kitchen table, a huge bowl of cereal in front of her and a dessert spoon in her hand. "Where've you been?"
"Went for a walk," he said, pulling off the hat to let it dry off on the radiator. It had begun to spit outside as he had neared home, the rain an impending doom.
"But it's so early," she said, as though she couldn't believe anyone would leave the house before the sun had met the day. Connor shrugged.
"I've been up since six," he said. "Might as well go for a good walk. I need you to look after Duke today."
"You seeing your girlfriend?" she asked, spooning a mammoth heap of Cheerios into her mouth, and Connor gave her a withering look.
"I explained this all yesterday," he said. "She needs me."
Cass held up a hand. "I know, I know. You owe her. I get it." She clicked her fingers, calling over Duke, and scratched his head. He tipped his chin up at her, wagging his tail as she paid attention to him.
"You can keep an eye on Duke, yeah?"
"Sure," she said, bending over to hook her arm around the big dog, and she kissed his damp fur. "Is it raining?"
Connor wrinkled his nose. "A bit. Not much. Got any plans?"
She shook her head, swirling her spoon around in her bowl. "Might go out. I dunno, really. Maybe Duke and I will just have a film day," she said. Her newfound singledom was taking its toll: it had been two years since she had last been out of a relationship, and she didn't quite know how to handle it. She tapped her phone with her nail. "The Tinder game out here is weak as fuck."
Connor snorted. "Considering the population is almost exclusively old, straight, married couples, that doesn't surprise me." He poured a glass of water and downed it in a few gulps before he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, tossing it between his hands before he took a bite. "I need to go. See you later."
"Have fun," Cass said. "Wait, are you going out?"
"We're going to the garden centre at some point, yeah. Why?"
Cass winced before she asked the question, as though she knew how her brother would respond. "Can you get me a star for the top of my tree? My old one broke, and seeing as you're getting into the spirit with your new friend, you could help me out."
"Sure," he said, without thinking too hard about what he was getting himself into, and Cass grinned.
"Cheers, Con. Just be careful: you'll be liking Christmas if you don't keep an eye on yourself," she teased, and he gave her a wary glance. He had liked Christmas. He had loved it. But it wasn't that easy anymore, and Cass struggled to see how different they were. When she was hit, she bounced back. When he was, he crumpled.
*
A moment after he knocked on Posy's door, his phone buzzed with a new message.
Unknown number: back door's open
He saved the number under her name, murmuring it under his breath as he did so, and he crunched on the gravel round to the back of the house, letting himself into the kitchen through the back door, to find Posy standing over the sink with a tub of soapy water and a pile of dripping dishes in front of her. Connor frowned.
"What're you doing?" he asked. She chuckled.
"Washing up," she said. "Turns out it's easier than loading the dishwasher, and I'm running low on stuff to eat off, and with."
He took the plate out of her hand and guided her towards the table. "You know how you were told to stay off your feet? I think it's probably good advice when it comes from a doctor. Really, you shouldn't be doing this stuff."
Posy rolled her eyes, laughter on her lips, but she sat down with a sigh. Today she wore a different Christmas jumper, which Connor imagined was perhaps a size too small. A woolly pine tree, decorated with pompom baubles, strained around her stomach, and only just met the waistband of her leggings. "I'm not an invalid," she said. "I can do the washing up."
"Not if it means being on your feet," Connor said. "I told you to text me when you were up. I'd have come over sooner."
She grinned, dark eyes gleaming. "You're a funny one," she said. "Really, I'm ok. I'll tell you if I'm not. Trying to get by with a dodgy ankle is practice for when I have to try and navigate motherhood. Very minor and uninformative practice, however." She leant back in her seat, her eyes trained on Connor as he finished the job she had started. "You don't need to do that."
"If it doesn't need doing, how come you were doing it?" he asked, and she raised her eyebrows, but she didn't have an immediate response.
"In general," she said, "guests tend not to do the washing up. Guests sit down and have a drink and a chat."
Without a word, Connor filled the kettle, and Posy laughed.
"I wasn't hinting," she said. "Then again, a coffee would be great."
Connor smiled as he measured out the granules and filled the mug, adding a splash of milk and making himself a cup of tea before he sat down opposite Posy, pushing her drink across the table. She gave him a warm smile, wrapping her hands around the hot ceramic.
"Perfect," she said. "Now that I think about it, I came down to put the kettle on, and I totally forgot by the time I got here." She shook her head at herself and patted her bump. "This baby's driving me crazy and I haven't even met it yet. It was so restless last night." She heaved a sigh and took a long sip of her coffee. "Time to come out, huh?" she said to her stomach, and then she lifted her eyes to Connor. "I must say, if for nothing else, it's quite nice talking to you. I've found that recently, I only ever talk to myself. Apparently the baby can learn my voice before it's born."
"I heard that," he said, sipping his tea. "Before Cass was born, my mum spent hours playing music to her stomach, and talking to it. No idea if it made any difference, really."
Posy smiled, warming her lips with her coffee. "I don't know. I've got kind of used to talking to myself now. It keeps me from going stir-crazy. Or maybe it's a sign that I've already entered that territory. Who knows." She shrugged one shoulder and lifted her feet onto an empty chair, her bad ankle on top of the other one. Connor glanced down at her socked feet and back up at her.
"D'you have a first aid kit or something like that?" he asked, and she frowned before he explained. "Your ankle," he said. "You'd probably be better off with some kind of support, if you had a bandage or something to wrap around it, you know?"
Posy furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "I don't know about a first aid kit. Well, I do know, in that I don't have one, but I have tights," she said. "Would that work?"
Connor let out a short laugh and nodded. "Probably would, yeah."
"I just washed some recently, they should be around here somewhere," she said. "I have a laundry basket somewhere." She went to stand up, as though she hadn't listened to Connor at all, and he groaned.
"Posy," he said. "Off your feet. Really. I can find your laundry basket. What does it look like?"
She gave him a look. "Well, it's a basket, with laundry in it. It's probably next door."
Before she could try to stand again, Connor headed next door to a room he hadn't seen yet. While it was supposed to be a dining room, he imagined, it was currently more of a temporary storage space where Posy seemed to have put things she didn't have a place for yet. An ironing board was set up in one corner, and beneath it stood a basket of folded laundry. He picking it up and held it against his hip as he returned to her, plopping it down on the floor.
"Thanks," she said, bending down to the best of her ability to look through it.
"Need a hand?"
"With this?" She glanced up at him. "No. You needn't be scarred for life by the sight of my granny pants and maternity leggings," she said with a laugh, and quietly she added, "Not to mention the bras."
Connor chuckled at the image and rested back in his seat until Posy pulled out a pair of black tights a moment later, handing them to him.
"This I do need a hand with," she said. "It's been about two months since I was last able to reach my own feet."
Metaphor aside, Connor had experience with wrapping bandages in the past, and he carefully lifted Posy's foot onto his knee to secure her ankle.
"You know what you're doing," she noted, hands clasped at the base of her bump as she watched him work.
"Enough," he said. "Cass was a very clumsy child." Then he snorted. "Now she's a clumsy woman, I guess." He finished the makeshift bandage with a bow that he tied just above her ankle, so that she would still be able to get her shoes on, and Posy brought her feet back to the floor.
"That's great," she said, admiring his handiwork. "Now, how about something to eat? I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
*
An hour passed before they left the house, every step a cautious one as Posy tried not to slip on the ice and Connor made the same efforts, hoping he wouldn't skid and bring her crashing down with him. She held onto his arm as though he was a life jacket, clinging onto him for dear life until she was safely in the seat, ready to head to the garden centre.
As tempting as it was for Connor to say that he couldn't remember the last time he had bought a Christmas tree, it was untrue. It had been a long time, but he couldn't forget that Christmas. Not for lack of trying, though.
"Thanks for going to all this trouble," Posy said as they set off. The journey was only a few miles, but the roads weren't in the best condition, and Connor was hesitant to go above thirty miles an hour. Even that felt too fast through the village, when he slowed to twenty.
"I can't believe you were planning on doing this all yourself," he said. "Is your family not around?"
"They live a couple of hours away," she said. "My youngest sister still lives at home; the other one is doing a year abroad at the moment. I didn't want to inconvenience my parents, but now I'm inconveniencing you." Before Connor could protest, she continued. "What about you? You live with your sister, right?"
He nodded. "She moved in a couple of weeks ago. I'm still not fully sure why, seeing as she's still at uni, but I now know her girlfriend broke up with her, so maybe that has something to do with it. Weird having her around again," he mused, and Posy's eyebrows invited him to continue the sentiment. "I've lived on my own for years, since I graduated. It's odd having someone else in the house again."
"That's sweet though, living with your sister," Posy said. "I don't think I could tolerate either of mine enough to live with them. What's the age difference?"
"Seven years," Connor said. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel, his hands slowly succumbing to the cold despite the heating being on high. "She's my half-sister, really, but like I said, I've never known my biological dad. What's hers is mine."
"That's sweet," she murmured. "What about your parents?"
"They live in the city," he said, and when he offered no elaboration, Posy didn't ask for any. She settled into her seat, gazing out of the window as they drove through the countryside. Everything glistened in the pale morning sun, now almost ten o'clock, and anyone who wasn't at work was beginning to wake up. Connor tapped his fingers on the wheel in time to a faint song on the radio, and Posy reached out to turn it up.
"I love this song," she said. "You know when a song brings back the most vivid memory?"
"Mmhmm," Connor hummed. He knew all about that. "What's this for you?"
"This is when I was travelling with my best friend. We finally found our hostel in Singapore after we got very lost, and Maddie put on an upbeat playlist to get us in the mood to go out for some drinks afterwards. I think this song must have just come out, because it played in two of the bars we went to."
"You went to Singapore?"
"Yup." She nodded. "We travelled together for a year. Well, almost a year. Came home for Christmas and went out again. All over Europe, Canada, America and Australia, and quite a lot of Asia. Bit of a stereotypical gap year, except we did it after uni."
"That's so cool," Connor murmured. "Was it good?"
A beam lit up Posy's face. "It was amazing. A year of travelling is make or break for a friendship, and it definitely made us," she said. "We were thinking of taking another trip, maybe just a couple of weeks, or a month over the summer, but I kind of put a spanner in the works." She rubbed her stomach. "Might have to put it off a few years now."
"Is she still around? Your friend?"
Posy nodded. "Maddie? Yeah, she lives in Farnleigh. Not too far away, but she's working until the end of this week, and then it's kind of straight into Christmas, so I won't really have a chance to see her until the new year. Maybe we'll fit in one more girls' night in before the baby comes."
"Well, if you ever need a lift into Farnleigh, let me know," he said. "I'd be happy to take you."
Posy looked at him, assessing him for a moment before she spoke. "You're too good for this world," she said at last, and Connor smiled at her. That wasn't true. He just couldn't live with himself, with even the smallest sliver of guilt if he thought there was a chance he could've done more to help her out.
*
The garden centre was quiet, an oasis in the otherwise barren countryside, and Connor parked as close to the door as he could get before he linked his arm with Posy's.
"Are you sure you're ok?" he asked, and she gave him a look.
"I'm fine," she said. "You're acting like I can't walk. I can walk. I just need to hold onto you, so as long as that's ok, then I'm fine."
"It's ok," he said, and she grinned.
"Then I'm fine."
Slowly, every step an effort, they headed inside and Connor took a basket from inside the door. He hadn't forgotten Cass's request, lingering at the forefront of his mind as he wandered at Posy's side. It was hard to adjust his speed to match hers, a fraction of his pace, but he made a concerted effort to help her and her hobbling was a little less painful with him to hang onto.
The Christmas trees occupied a section of the centre outside of the main building, meaning they would have to walk through the interior Christmas display and out the other side before they got to the trees. Halfway there, Connor felt Posy slow, and her breaths were a little more laboured.
"You ok?" he asked, coming to a stop, and she leant against a nearby shelf.
"You're going to say I told you so," she said, her apology spread across her face. One hand on her back and the other on her stomach, she rested all of her weight on her good foot and winced as she tried to stretch out her back.
"Hold on," Connor said. "You stay right here. Don't move."
Posy laughed. "Do I look like I'm going anywhere?"
Connor jogged back to the entrance to the centre, through the maze of displays to the tills where he had seen what he needed. When he returned to Posy, she groaned at the sight.
"No," she said. Connor pushed the customer wheelchair towards her but she shook her head. "I'm not getting in a wheelchair."
"Then you have to walk," he said, "but you're not even supposed to be standing, let alone walking, and you are clearly very uncomfortable. Give yourself a break. Give the baby a break." He looked down at the seat in front of him and back at Posy, and she couldn't argue. She sat down, lifting her feet off the ground, and took the basket from him. Her stomach took up most of her lap, but she balanced it on the end.
"I feel like I'm back at school," she said. "We used to borrow supermarket wheelchairs and mess around until we got kicked out."
"You're a rebel, huh?"
"You know it." She laughed. "Stealing wheelchairs and having a child out of wedlock? Total rebel. And now you're stuck with me," she said. Connor shook his head at her, thought she couldn't see him. He quite liked pushing her around, knowing that he was helping and that she was finally obeying the doctor's orders, though he got the distinct feeling that she didn't like being told what to do.
By the time they made it to the other side of the building, towards the trees, Posy's basket was already full of bits and pieces for decoration, and Connor had got her to choose a tree topper for Cass. He couldn't quite bring himself to do it, swallowing down the lump that fought to rise in his throat, and the choice of tree was entirely Posy's. The only part he played was wheeling her up and down the aisles, his eyes focused straight ahead as she assessed the various pine trees. When she settled on one, he showed the assistants to his car, where they tied it to his roof while he and Posy queued to pay.
He told himself that was the hard part, persuading himself that it was all smooth sailing from here, but he knew the opposite was true. Picking out a tree was nothing in comparison to what would come next: the decorating. Posy's house was bare, without so much as a nativity set, and the entire time they had been walking around, she had been chattering away to herself, and partially to him, about her plans. At one point, she had lost herself in a one sided conversation with her child about how the house would look when it came into the world, and Connor had listened with a fond smile. Disassociating himself from the situation, it had been easier to appreciate her descriptions, and for a fraction of a second, he had felt a warm glow in the pit of his stomach.
It didn't take long for that glow to be extinguished, but it had been a long time since he had even felt that kind of warmth around the holidays. He only hoped it would return, else he wasn't sure how he would survive the next step.
+ - + - +
i didn't think i'd get this written tonight - i was going to go out and write, but i ended up staying home with my housemates and having a really fun girls' evening in. i actually had to split this chapter into 2 as it's 4k right now and there was a lot more planned. i hope you liked this!
Please comment if you're enjoying the story. Your feedback means the world to me! this chapter is dedicated to -iridescents for being a wonderful flower of a person <3
- hen