Tinsel and Terriers, A Novella Page 5

  The living room of number nine Primrose Terrace looked like the lights department at John Lewis after an earthquake had hit. Polly and Owen were standing in the middle of the tangle, and Rummy was lying on the floor, his head on his paws as if he’d already been told off more than once. There was no sign of Shed.

  ‘Is this the attack of the killer lights?’ Cat asked. ‘Because you look like you might be in trouble.’

  ‘Cat, how was Christmas?’

  ‘Lovely,’ Cat said, ‘but also sad. That’s it. They’re off, to Canada, for ages.’ She felt the lump in her throat resurface and pushed it away. She had to be strong, especially for what she was about to do.

  ‘Oh, Cat.’ Polly held her arms out as if she wanted to hug her friend, but strings of fairy lights came with her and she looked like a monster covered in decorative seaweed.

  Cat burst out laughing. ‘Is this all for our house?’

  Owen nodded. ‘We weren’t sure which colours to get. I thought we could try them all out and see which combination works best.’

  ‘Wow.’ Cat nodded. ‘I’m impressed by your dedication.’

  ‘I’m a competitive guy. And now you can help – you’ve just had Christmas, so I expect you to be fully immersed in festivity.’

  Cat smiled at Owen, thinking for the millionth time how perfect he was for her best friend. ‘I will, but I have to go and do something first. Keep at it, though. You might have untangled yourself in time for next Christmas if you work solidly between now and then.’

  She left Owen and Polly gawping at her and then, with her stomach doing somersaults, she made her way back out into the sunshine.

  Mark opened the door wearing his leather jacket, and with Chips’s lead in his hand.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, leaning forward to kiss her. ‘You’re back early.’

  ‘Mum and Dad have lots to do,’ Cat said. ‘And I needed to get back.’

  ‘Did you have a good time? Give them a good send-off?’

  Cat nodded. ‘It was quiet, but it was lovely. Very Christmassy. And – don’t take your coat off.’

  Mark had started taking off his jacket, but he paused and gave her a questioning look.

  ‘You’re taking Chips for a walk? Let me come.’

  ‘Sure?’

  Cat nodded. ‘I could do with the fresh air.’

  The trees in Fairview Park were mostly bare, the ground smattered with fallen leaves, and George had roped brightly-coloured strings of lights around the awning of the Pavilion café, large gold stars hanging down from the ceiling inside. Cat and Mark walked in step with each other, nodding at other dog walkers, throwing a tennis ball to Chips, who never tired of racing off and bringing it back to her master.

  Cat remembered when she’d first met Mark, not too far from where they were walking. How she’d been caught off guard by his assertiveness, intrigued by the air of mystery he carried with him. She had come to realize that, despite all the things that attracted her to Mark, she didn’t want someone who was charming but distant. She wanted closeness, and it wasn’t fair to try and make it work, to wait for something that she wasn’t convinced would ever come, when her heart wasn’t in it.

  She shoved her hands into the pockets of her dark-green coat and glanced up at his strong, handsome profile. She closed her eyes momentarily, swallowed and stopped walking.

  ‘Mark,’ she said.

  ‘Cat.’ He smiled at her, an eyebrow raised. ‘Why have we stopped?’

  They were under a row of plane trees along the edge of the park. Cat spotted a bench and sat down.

  Mark stared at her for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then joined her.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ she said quickly, her mind flashing back to a few weeks before, her apology, her attempt to rescue their relationship even though Joe was already taking up residence in her thoughts.

  ‘Oh no,’ Mark said lightly, ‘those fatal words. I’m sorry, Cat, but I’m not dressing Chips up as Frankenstein. Not even my love of horror can convince me to make my Border collie look like a stuffed toy.’

  Cat shook her head. ‘I get that, I totally understand. It’s not that.’

  Mark’s smile faltered a little. ‘You don’t want to spend Christmas with me? You’ve decided to go out to Canada with your parents and leave Primrose Terrace? You’re taking the success of Pooch Promenade to London and—’

  ‘No! Mark, stop. Please. This is difficult enough as it is.’ She squeezed her hands into fists and watched as Mark’s smile disappeared and the amusement in his eyes was replaced with a hardness that Cat had only seen once before.

  ‘What’s difficult enough?’

  ‘I – I think we should end it,’ Cat said. ‘End us.’

  Mark stared at her, barely noticing as Chips raced up and dropped the tennis ball at his feet. Grateful for a reason to turn away, Cat picked it up and threw the ball as far as she could.

  ‘Can I ask why?’ Mark said eventually. ‘Why now?’

  Cat sighed. ‘Because I don’t think it’s working. I mean – we get on, and you’re lovely, you’re gorgeous and funny and smart and sexy, and—’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’

  ‘It doesn’t feel enough. For me.’

  Mark turned away, squinting out over the park. Cat watched him.

  ‘Is this because I didn’t come to your parents’ with you?’

  ‘No. Partly. I mean – I just want more. More than fun, and that’s what it feels like with you, Mark. It feels like it’s all a bit of fun.’

  Mark gave a hollow laugh. ‘I’ve never had anyone complain that they’re having fun with me.’

  Cat shook her head. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘Well, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m going to regret this, but it’s how I feel, and I don’t think it would be fair of me to—’

  ‘Oh, spare me the pity. You don’t think it would be fair of you to keep it going? Is that it? Could you be any more of a cliché?’

  Cat breathed in, shocked. ‘Sorry. I thought I should explain.’

  ‘You want to finish with me, that’s all I need to know.’ He stood up and turned away from her.

  Cat stood too, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ He started walking, whistling to Chips, and Cat felt her legs wobble beneath her. He hadn’t tried to change her mind. He hadn’t pleaded with her or told her how much he cared about her, or that it had meant anything to him. Perhaps that was anger, the only way he could deal with it, but it made her think that she was right, that his feelings for her weren’t any more than surface deep. Cat watched him walk a few paces, bend to stroke Chips’s ears, then throw the ball and turn back round.

  He came towards her, and Cat’s heart pounded. Was he coming back to apologize, or to get a better explanation? ‘Mark—?’ she started.

  ‘I know what this is,’ he said. ‘This is about you and Joe. That’s the real reason you’re doing this.’

  Cat was frozen, unable to speak, as if someone had poured superglue over her.

  ‘You’ve been interested in him all along, and now you’ve decided that you’ve got a chance with him. You’re picking him over me?’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘You’ve been playing us both, and now you’re giving me up because he drew you a fancy banner and posed on a surfboard? He draws cartoons for a living, for fuck’s sake. He doodles on pieces of paper. I make films.’

  ‘It’s really not about—’

  ‘You think he can satisfy you as much as I do?’

  ‘Mark—’ she tried again.

  ‘Seriously, Cat. The guy’s a tool. You’ve been leading me on the whole time, and now you’ve come to this deluded conclusion.’ He was standing close, staring down at her.

  Cat swallowed, and then felt her anger flash.

  ‘This decision is about me, Mark. Not Joe. It’s about what I want from a relationship, and what makes me happy. I’m sorry it’s not worked out with us, and I
get that you’re angry, but there’s no reason to attack me, or anyone else.’ She reached out and put a hand on his arm, but he flinched away. ‘I’m sorry, Mark. I never meant to hurt you.’

  ‘You haven’t. Don’t lose any sleep over it – I’m not going to.’

  Mark turned and strode towards the exit of the park, Chips catching up and trotting alongside him, her tail wagging happily. Cat sat back down on the bench, her whole body trembling as relief and guilt washed over her.

  As hard as it was, she’d done the right thing. And his anger had been justified. Nothing had happened between her and Joe, but he’d been in her thoughts, and therefore it hadn’t been fair on either her or Mark.

  She pushed herself up and, feeling vague and disconnected, unable to focus on any one thing, she made her way slowly back to Primrose Terrace. What she needed now was Polly and Owen: her friends and a warm living room, a cup of tea and a mindless job untangling Christmas lights. She’d made a commitment to the Primrose Terrace residents, and it was just what she needed to take her mind off her own worries. She wasn’t going to let them down.

  Chapter 4

  When Cat got home, the front of the house was alight with pink and blue fairy lights, like something out of a Disney film. Owen was dangling out of Joe’s bedroom window, snaking a third trail of lights down to Polly, who was standing on the top step, arms outstretched.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Cat said. ‘Are you wrapping the house in lights? Is there any kind of strategy behind this?’

  ‘We’re trying a few things out,’ Owen called down. ‘This isn’t the final version.’

  ‘Owen, be careful!’ Polly called. ‘Go back inside!’

  Owen gave a quick salute and disappeared inside the window. Shed tiptoed out of the front door and wound his furry body around the two friends, and Cat scooped him up and into her arms. ‘Why can’t you just be a little dog?’ Cat asked. ‘Hmm?’

  Shed purred at her and butted her chin with his forehead.

  ‘He’s having a hard time of it,’ Polly said. ‘Trying to get used to Rummy being here. I’m actually quite impressed with the way he’s coping.’

  ‘No fights yet?’

  ‘One miaowing-whimpering match,’ Polly confirmed, ‘but no contact. Owen’s going to sit them down together this evening and see if he can get them to be friends.’

  The idea made Cat smile, despite everything. ‘Pet mediation?’

  ‘He’s feeling confident. Did you do what you needed to?’

  Cat glanced at Polly, who was giving her the Midwich Cuckoo stare. ‘I did,’ she said, the words drying up. She nodded decisively.

  ‘Want to share?’

  Cat put Shed on the floor and went inside, undoing her coat. Polly followed her in, and Owen hurried down the stairs. ‘I’ve just got to plug this in, and—’ He looked up, saw their faces and took a step back. ‘I might have a look at some of those star-shaped lights we got. See what we can do with them.’

  Polly gave him an indulgent smile and turned back to Cat. ‘What’s happened?’

  Cat perched on the arm of the sofa. ‘I’ve broken up with Mark.’

  Polly’s eyes popped open. ‘What? Why?’

  ‘Because it wasn’t working. Because I wasn’t feeling it, because…’ She shrugged. ‘Because he wasn’t enough. I don’t think we had that connection. I didn’t feel like we were letting each other in. It’s as much my fault as his – probably more mine, but…there it is. It’s over.’

  ‘Oh, Cat.’ Polly knelt in front of her and put her hands on Cat’s knees. ‘I’m sorry. You don’t think that, over time, you could have got to know each other, that he could have been enough?’

  Cat turned to look out of the window. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said softly. ‘Not the way I felt. So…’ She put her hands deep in the pockets of her coat, and pulled out the piece of paper with the puppy details on that she’d picked up at the vet’s. She threw it onto the coffee table.

  ‘Oh God,’ Polly sighed. ‘That’s so shitty, Cat. However it’s happened, whoever’s decision, it’s not nice. I’m sorry. And especially straight after saying goodbye to your parents. Are you going to be OK?’

  ‘I am,’ she said, replaying Mark’s anger in her mind and feeling another rush of guilt. ‘I feel pretty crap right now, but I did it. I broke up with him and it was the right decision.’

  ‘So what’s the course of action?’ Polly said, her blue eyes wide. ‘Get hideously drunk? Get some old plates and smash them in the courtyard? Hide under your duvet and have a good cry? I can help with some of those. Or…’ She glanced behind her.

  ‘Or?’ Cat asked, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘Or get stuck into Christmas. Owen’s—’

  ‘Yeouch!’ There was a loud bang and the overhead light went off.

  ‘Owen?’ Polly squealed. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine, I’m fine. I tripped the circuit breaker, that’s all.’

  Polly pressed her hand against her chest. ‘Shit.’

  ‘I think Christmas,’ Cat said. ‘Owen needs all the help he can get.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  Cat stood and pulled Polly up, and the two friends looked at each other, unspoken gratitude passing between them. Cat didn’t know what she would do without her.

  ‘Right.’ She held her fist out and Polly bumped it. ‘Let’s do this. Let’s do Christmas.’

  November and December continued to get colder, snow threatened on the weather forecasts but rain stayed away, and the occupants of Primrose Terrace worked hard on their Christmas light displays. Cat spent more time than usual peering out of the windows, even though she had a better excuse than most people to walk up and down the terrace. She was already delighted by the efforts people had gone to.

  Frankie, Emma and Lizzie – with Leyla’s help – were doing animal-themed lights. They had strings of songbird-shaped lights hanging from the roof, donkeys and sheep and cows – originally part of a nativity-themed light display – attached to the front walls. Boris and Charles had, so far, gone for elegant white and gold to match the Christmas tree that stood in the front window, and was occasionally accessorized by Bossy and Dylan.

  The Barkers, recently back from a three-week holiday to see their son in Australia, were – to Cat’s shock – going all out with a sled on the roof and Santa climbing the chimney. They’d only just started their display, and Cat was eager to see how far they were going to take it. Jessica’s house was conspicuously bare, but she’d told Cat that she had it all planned out, and didn’t want to show her hand until the last minute. Elsie, suffering with a bad cold, had employed the help of Captain, and when Cat had popped round to take her some homemade soup, had found them at the coffee table working on a diagram that they’d quickly hidden from view.

  Almost everyone was taking it seriously. Cat and Polly’s house was bare again, their multitude of lights stored in Joe’s office, while they did some more thinking about what would be most spectacular.

  The one notable absence, which didn’t surprise Cat in the least, was number four. It remained steadfastly Christmas-free and, Cat had noticed, hadn’t had the Audi parked outside for several days. She’d had no contact from Mark since they’d broken up, and for that she was grateful.

  As the weeks had passed, she’d settled into her decision. She missed certain things about their time together – she couldn’t deny that they’d had fun – but there was no deep sadness, no ache in her heart. Her pulse didn’t increase when she thought about him, she just felt sad and guilty, like she’d treated him badly, like she should have made the decision sooner.

  It was the second Thursday of December and Cat was dressed in stonewashed jeans and a black boatneck jumper, waiting for the Fairhaven Press to come through the door as if it was a card from a gentleman caller.

  Every time Cat thought about Joe, about his continuing absence, her chest gave a funny little pang that, she was sure, wasn’t normal. He’d been gone for over two months. A three-week course
, and he’d been away over twice that long. What if he loved it so much that he decided to stay out there long term and do what her parents were doing? Nowadays, even illustration could be done remotely – he’d proved that with Curiosity Kitten.

  ‘Whatcha up to?’ Polly asked, coming into the living room in her pyjamas. The two of them had spent an enjoyable Sunday the previous weekend decorating the house, and a huge tree – far too big for the room – was squashed into the corner, its colourful lights on the slow dimmer-flash setting. They had white, shimmery tinsel, like snow, adorning almost every surface and hanging in swathes in the doorways, and Polly had found a sensor on the Internet that made a sound like sleigh bells whenever anyone stepped over the living-room threshold. It made its tinkling sound now, and Cat laughed.

  ‘Nothing much.’ She sipped her coffee, trying to adjust her position without dislodging Shed, who was keeping her feet warm by being asleep on them. Owen’s ‘serious chat’ with the pets had, to Cat and Polly’s surprise, gone well, and Shed and Rummy now spent most of their time circling uncertainly round each other, like boxers in a ring. ‘I’m walking the Westies in a bit,’ she continued, ‘and taking Disco and Chalky because Elsie’s still under the weather.’

  ‘Lights meeting later?’ Polly asked. ‘I’ve got the day off, so Owen could come round, we could look at what we’ve tried so far, what’s left to do, and see if we can actually make a decision.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Cat said, grinning. Over the last few weeks, without Mark, and now that Polly was qualified and had no studying to do, they’d spent most of their evenings together. Polly occasionally disappeared to Owen’s house on the other side of Fairview, but more often than not it was the three of them, and for the first time since moving to Primrose Terrace, Cat felt she was getting to spend time with her best friend – and she didn’t mind sharing her with her new boyfriend.

  ‘Oh, and here’s the paper.’ Polly turned back to the hallway, pulled The Fairhaven Press out of the letterbox and placed it in front of Cat. Cat looked up at her friend, watched as she disappeared into the kitchen and, feeling suddenly nervous, turned the pages.