A New Year Bride. Scarlet Wilson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to put into words.

      She stared at the texts on the phone from her friends, teasing her about the party and assuming she’d had the time of her life.

      She had—almost.

      But last night when she’d opened the door to the cold and empty flat, everything had just overwhelmed her.

      Silence echoed around her.

      Unbearable silence.

      The home that had once been filled with love and happiness shivered around her.

      She actually felt it happen.

      Even when she flicked the light switch, the house was dark. Emptiness swamped every room. She’d started to cry even before she’d made it to bed, wrapping herself in her gran’s shawl, her own duvet and wearing the thickest pair of flannel pyjamas imaginable—but nothing could keep out the cold. Nothing at all.

      That feeling of loneliness was enormous. Somewhere, on the other side of the planet, her mother was probably cuddled up to her husband or sitting around a table with her two children. Children she actually spent time with.

      It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. Getting pregnant at sixteen would be difficult for any teenager. But to move away completely and form a new life—without any thought to the old—was hard to take.

      It made her more determined. More determined to never feel second best with any man. She’d spent her whole life feeling second best and a cast-off. Although her relationship with her gran had been strong and wonderful, there had still been that underlying feeling of…just not being enough.

      For the briefest spell tonight, under that lamp post, she’d felt a tiny bit like that again. All because of that kiss. Oh, the kiss had been wonderful—mesmerising. The attraction was definitely there. But the connection, or the sincerity of the connection? She just couldn’t be sure if when Finlay kissed her he was thinking only of her.

      She shivered all night. The heating was on in the flat and it didn’t matter how high the temperature was—it just couldn’t permeate her soul.

      The night with Finlay had brought things to a precipice in her head.

      Alone. That was how she felt right now.

      Completely and utterly alone.

      She’d thought being busy at Christmas would help. She’d thought decorating the flat the way it always used to be would help.

      But the truth was nothing helped. Nothing filled the aching hole that her grandmother’s death had left.

      A card had arrived from her mother. The irony killed her. It was a personalised card with a photo of her mum with her new husband, Ken, and their two sons on the front. They were suitably dressed for a Christmas in Florida. It wasn’t meant to be a message. But it felt like it.

      Her mother had moved on—playing happy families on another continent. She’d found her happy ever after. And it didn’t include Grace. It never had.

      She received the same store gift card each year. Impersonal. Polite. The sort of gift you sent a colleague you didn’t know that well—not the sort of gift you sent your daughter.

      As she rode the Tube this morning people seemed to be full of Christmas spirit. It was Christmas Eve. Normally she would be full of Christmas spirit too.

      But the sight of happy children bouncing on their parents’ knees, couples with arms snaked around each other and stealing kisses, only seemed to magnify the effect of being alone.

      Tonight, she’d go home to that dark flat.

      Tonight, she’d spend Christmas Eve on her own. There was no way she could speak to any of the girls. They were all too busy wrapped up in their own lives, finding their own dreams, for Grace to bring them down with her depressed state.

      The train pulled into the station and she trudged up the stairs to work.

      This time last year her stomach had been fluttering with the excitement she normally felt at Christmas. Christmas Eve was such a special day.

      It was for love, for families, for sharing, for fun and for laughter. Tomorrow, she would probably spend the whole day without speaking to a single person. Tomorrow, she would cook a dinner for one.

      She’d pushed away every single thought about how she might spend Christmas Day. It had been easier not to think about it at all. That way she could try and let herself be swept along with the spirit of Christmas without allowing the dark cloud hanging above her head to press down on her.

      But now, it seemed to have rushed up out of nowhere. It was here and the thought of being alone was just too much.

      She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled. ‘Clio? Are there any shifts tomorrow?’

      She could almost hear the cogs whirring in Clio’s brain at the end of the phone. ‘Grace? What’s wrong?’

      Grace sucked in a deep breath to try and stop her voice from wobbling. She couldn’t stop the tears that automatically pooled in her eyes. ‘It’s just the time of year…it’s hard,’ she managed.

      ‘Your gran. You’re missing her. I get it. But do you really want to spend Christmas Day working?’ The compassion in Clio’s voice made her feel one hundred times worse.

      ‘Yes.’

      There was a shuffle of papers. ‘You can work at The Armstrong as normal. There are always lots of shifts at Christmas. I can put you on for that one.’

      ‘Great, thanks.’ The words came out easier this time; it was almost as if a security blanket had been flung over her shoulders. ‘And, Clio? Congratulations on your engagement. Enjoy your time with Enrique.’

      She hung up the phone and sighed. She meant it. She really did. Clio was over the moon with her new relationship and she deserved to be happy.

      She changed quickly and started work. The Christmas themed music that she’d chosen was playing quietly in the background everywhere.

      Other members of staff were smiling and whistling. No one was rushing today. The whole work tempo seemed to have slowed down for the festive season. And Grace noticed a few sideways glances from people who’d attended the staff party.

      Her list was long. Lots of people had the day off. But Grace didn’t care; it would keep her busy and give her less time to think.

      It was surprising the amount of guests who checked in and out around Christmas. Something panged inside her again. People coming to visit families and friends.

      Eight hours later her hair was back to its semi-normal dishevelled state and she really wanted to get changed. One of the staff called her over. ‘Can you do one more before you knock off tonight? I’m in a bit of a rush.’

      Grace pressed her lips together. She knew Sally had four kids and would want to get home to them early. She held out her hand. ‘Of course I will. No problem.’

      Sally gave her a hug. ‘Thanks, Grace. Have a great Christmas.’

      Grace СКАЧАТЬ