Maxine Morrey - The Christmas Project

‘That wasn’t my plan. Besides, I’ve done it hundreds of times. I was perfectly all right.’

He looked down at me, still close from when he’d lifted me off the chair.

‘I don’t care if you’ve done it millions of times. I’d rather you didn’t do it any more.’

‘Some of us aren’t blessed with your height. I need to be able to get to places.’

‘Then use a stepladder! Something made for the purpose that you can hold on to. And don’t overstretch yourself like you were just doing. It’s going to end badly one day if you keep on like that. I’m amazed it hasn’t already.’

I gave a huff. ‘I still need those last few bits out of that wardrobe.’ I pointed to where I’d been a few minutes before. Michael reached up to get the bits I couldn’t, his T-shirt rising up as he did so, exposing the muscles of his lower back, twisting and taut as he felt around for anything left. I really ought to be looking away. Ideally.

Shortly after Janey had sat back down the other night, Michael had wandered off and, moments later, was leaning against a wall, chatting to a blonde that had been eyeing him up since the moment he’d walked in. From the way she’d been leaning into him and touching his arm every few seconds, it was apparent that his pastime of trying to get a reaction out of me had been transferred to his current company – although, admittedly, the reaction he was aiming for, and clearly getting, in that situation was entirely different to the one he aimed for, and annoyingly, usually got, from me. Absentmindedly, I wondered if his current practice of ‘not giving anyone a tour of the house’ might change once it was in a better state. Somehow, I doubted it. The fact that he kept his bedroom so impersonal hinted to me that he had no inclination to show who he really was. And it didn’t look like he was going to give me the chance to suggest how he could make his bedroom more welcoming either, judging by the fact he’d bitten my head off the last time I mentioned it. From what Janey had said, Michael hadn’t always been like this. I guessed that the split with his ex-wife had really made an impact on him – and not for the better.

‘Where are you?’

‘Huh?’ I jumped as Michael’s deep voice drifted into my thoughts.

‘You were miles away.’

‘Umm…’

No, actually I was just at the top of this house, in your bedroom . Yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to be the best answer.

‘And now you’re blushing.’ His face took on a look of mild amusement.

‘I am not blushing! How ridiculous. Why on earth would I be blushing?’

‘I don’t know. But I’m intrigued to find out.’

I shook my head. ‘You’re imagining things. Now come on. There’s work to do.’

Michael gave me a look that suggested he wasn’t even remotely convinced before looking down at the pile of stuff that covered his floor.

‘I don’t even know what half this stuff is! How can I have accumulated this much crap?’

I crouched and then sat on the floor. ‘This is nothing. At least you can move in your house. You wouldn’t believe some of the places I’ve been in.’

I glanced up. Michael was looking around. His gaze travelled to the open door where another room’s door stood open awaiting a similar fate. I reached up and tugged on his arm.

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing.’ The shutters closed on his expression but I pressed on.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

He ran a hand through his too-long hair. ‘Nothing. I wasn’t thinking anything.’

‘I see. You know you can’t lie for toffee, don’t you?’

His gaze flicked to me and I held it.

‘Fine. I was thinking that there is no way this house is going to be ready for visitors to stay in at Christmas.’ He transferred his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it a couple of times. ‘You know what, Kate? This is just a waste of time. Yours and mine. And I really don’t have it to waste. There are plenty of things I could be doing instead of faffing around here.’

I pushed myself up from the floor and faced him.

‘What are you talking about? We’ve really only just started.’

‘Exactly! We’ve only just started and in a few weeks’ time I’m supposed to have a house that’s fit for everyone to stay in and produce an outstanding Christmas dinner. It’s all just a bloody farcical!’ His chest was heaving and his jaw was tight.

‘What’s so farcical about spending Christmas with your family?’

He looked down at me. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘It’s how it sounded. And it’s how it’ll sound to Janey and the rest of them.’

He gave me a look. ‘Whilst I appreciate that you and my sister are good friends, I’d also appreciate you understanding that I know my family better than you do. Your family might be overly sensitive about petty things, but mine aren’t.’

I turned for a moment, watching little flurries of snow tumble past the window as I ordered my thoughts, pushing the unnecessary ones away.

‘I see. So, what is it that you’re saying, exactly?’

‘I’m saying that I think both of us can spend our time more productively. So, it’s probably best if you left and attended to those other clients you mentioned before, all vying for your attention.’ Michael caught my eye and for once, couldn’t hold my gaze. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think there was a flash of remorse there. ‘I’m sorry for wasting your time,’ he mumbled.

I smoothed my skirt down. ‘No problem. I have to say though, I never had you down as a quitter. Plenty of other things, definitely. But a quitter wasn’t one of them.’

Michael turned and glared at me. ‘I am not a quitter. I’m a realist.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yes. It’s so. And the realistic assessment of this…situation,’ he flapped his arm to encompass the mess that currently surrounded us, ‘is that however good you think you are, there is no way this place is going to be ready for Christmas. It’s a joke to even think that I was ever going to be able to have my family here.’

I watched him for a moment, his fists clenched, the muscles in his forearm taut as steel cables, a flicker at his jaw as he tried to contain whatever it was that had kicked off inside him. And I recognised it. The anger that hid something far more vulnerable. I’d also had a lot of practice at dealing with it.

‘Michael I’m sorry if you thought that I presumed to know more about your family than you. Obviously that’s not the case and it wasn’t what I meant. What I do know is that it’s important to them for all this to happen.’ I repeated his action of encompassing the mess around us, albeit in a calmer manner. ‘Not because they don’t want to host Christmas this year but because they care about you and this is the best way of getting it done. Being given a deadline is something you’re familiar with in your work. It’s how you work best. You even said something similar yourself the first time we met. I know it looks bad now, but it always does at this stage. And believe me, this really is nothing compared to some places.’ I leant and touched his knotted forearm, and he turned, his green eyes cool and shuttered. ‘Michael I know you want to be able to have your family here this Christmas – ’

‘Seems like you know an awful lot.’

I took a breath and ignored the jibe. Again, something else I’d had experience of.

‘I’m really good at my job and I have faith in you. Both of which mean that I’m confident we can achieve what we need to.’

He gave me a look under his lashes that hinted he still wasn’t entirely convinced.

OK, one more push .

‘Assuming, of course, you really aren’t a quitter.’