Chapter VIII
Christmas crept up on Samantha and before she knew it, she had two days to go and Pete was coming home. She couldn't describe how much she missed him. All she knew was it was like a piece of her was missing. It was hard to feel excited though, or even a slight thrill inside her about the whole season. She still missed her father and it hurt to think that this was going to be her first Christmas without him. Her mother had invited her and Pete over for Christmas dinner with herself and Lauren, and Pete's parents had invited them over for drinks and nibbles in the evening. Samantha wasn't particularly looking forward to either. On one hand, she would have to face the painful reminder of how empty her life was without her father filling it, and on the other hand, she would be faced with her future in-laws, who would no doubt want to hear every last detail about the wedding and just how much she was going to screw things up.
Samantha was very pleased with her efforts for the wedding. She had managed to purchase most of the things on her list, and if not already purchased, they were on order. Suits had arrived and were checked for missing buttons and full seams before being pressed and stored in plastic covers in Stuart's wardrobe. Dresses had been double-checked for seams and were being stored at Amy's house. The rings had arrived and Pete just needed to check his fitted properly. Matt had shown her the decorations he was using for the hall: icicle-shaped lights; white linen tablecloths with silver grosgrain ribbon on the edges; white coloured tulips and gerberas for the centrepieces, “And mood lighting,” Matt had said, “but I'm not telling you anymore so it's some of a surprise to you. I want your mouth to drop when you enter the room!”
Samantha's only real worry was the catering. The cake had been picked and ordered, due to arrive with the rest of the catered food, but Samantha was uneasy about the whole operation. Pete's parents' friends were never available for her to speak to and she had left various messages with various people at the company. The information she received back would be from Lisa, Tessa, or Mary Anne who were “new to the company” and not very helpful, especially when the messages would contradict each other or just be garbled and confused. She wasn't looking forward to relaying this news to Pete's parents in any circumstances, and Christmas Day would probably be the worst time to do it. She looked at the phone. It was worth one more try.
“Hello, Clarke Catering and Co, Cleo speaking.”
“Cleo?” Samantha said flatly.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“Yeah, I'm trying to get hold of Colin and Catherine Clarke.”
“I'm afraid they're unavailable at the moment, can I take a message?”
Samantha sighed. “Look, it's about the Daniels and Marsters wedding and I need confirmation from them that everything I sent to them on the order form went through okay.”
“A wedding function, yes?”
“Yes, the Daniels and Marsters wedding.”
“Is that Daniels with one or two 'L' s?”
“One.”
“And Masters as in The Master and the Commander?”
“No, as in James Marsters, the actor.”
“Who?”
“M, A, R, S, T, E, R, S.”
“Oh, okay!” Pause. “Sorry, I'm new.”
“Who isn't?” Samantha thought to herself.
“Okay, thanks for your call. I'll pass your message on.”
“Thanks… Oh, no, wait!”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to actually see them or just leave the message on their desk?”
“I'll leave the message on their desk. They're unavailable right now.”
“Meaning they're not in?”
“Correct.”
“Are they ever in?” Samantha said rather crossly, raising her voice a little more in volume. “Only this is probably the fifth call I've made and left a message, and my wedding is in four months and I'm getting all stressed because I'm worried that my guests are going to turn up and not be able to eat and my whole reception is going to be ruined and the day will be a complete and horrific disaster, and all I ask is that I get some sort of freaking call back!”
She finished and gasped for breath, feeling the anger beginning to sting at the back of her eyeballs. There was silence on the phone.
“Uhm, hello?” Samantha asked cautiously.
“I-I-I-I… I'm sorry about you not being happy with the service,” Cleo stammered, sounding particularly upset and like she was going to cry. “I'm just…”
“New, I know,” sighed Samantha, digging her fingers into her eyes and rubbing them up the bridge of her nose to her temple, and then pushing them back down again. “It's just very frustrating, Cleo.”
“Okay, well, I'm going to leave the message on their desks. I don't think I can do much else… But I will tell them as well if I see them,” she added.
“Good,” Samantha said wearily.
“Can I help you with anything else today?”
“No, that'll be all. Bye.”
Samantha slammed the phone down before Cleo answered her back. Back to square one. She'd have to tell Pete's parents. Bugger.
She slumped into her computer chair and switched on the base unit. The internet connection activated automatically and took her into her email inbox. She had two new emails: one from Pete and one from Kevin. She clicked open Pete's email:
Hi Sam, miss you loads!! I know you're gonna hate me for this but I can't come back for Christmas. Work is just manic and way too hectic. The boss is turning into Slave Master Overdrive and isn't allowing anyone to leave until the end of year progress report is complete. It would be already if some idiot down in analysis had proof read his coding properly. Instead of which, we have a couple of zeros missing and an extra five days work ahead of us. I might be able to squeeze New Year out of The Mighty and Unholy Slavemeister Steve but since I was supposed to be working over that weekend anyway, it may not be allowed.
I know if I phoned you about this you'd go all mad and not let me explain properly so I'm taking the coward's way out and emailing instead. Pretty please do not get mad at me and just think of how when you're nibbling on sausage rolls and sipping back Baileys, I'll be having yet another (I can't believe they have the cheek to call it) coffee from the Evil Machine Against Change Giving and yet another round of cheese and pickle sandwiches. Email me back and tell me you love me?? Pete x
Reading the email out to herself brought her insides to a new low. She couldn't possibly feel more lonely right now. How could Steve even think about making Pete work Christmas and New Year? It was unthinkable. She had a good mind to call Steve and tell him what she thought of him. On second thoughts, maybe not such a good idea. Pete wasn't supposed to be using his email to contact her. She wondered if Pete's parents knew. Was she still supposed to go round to Jeff and Annabel's on Christmas evening, even though Pete wasn't going to be there? She looked at the phone, longing for it to ring; for it to be Pete; for her to hear his voice and remind herself of what he sounded like; to try and pick up his scent from the receiver and inhale it so it filled her. Did Pete really value his work so much that he'd give up quality time with her to earn a few extra pounds?
“But this could do wonders for my career,“ he had said, she told herself. She remembered the conversation as if it had happened only yesterday. “My own contract! This could mean leaving my job and going freelance. We could get our own place - a house even. Not a flat, a house."
The conversation echoed in her head. He had told her it was for the best. He said that afterwards things would be better for them. He had done this for her. Because he loved her. Because he wanted her to never have to worry about superficial things like money.
She clicked the 'Reply' button and wrote him an email back:
Hiya hon! It's okay about not coming home for Christmas. Sure, I'm upset that I can't see you after we made plans and after so long apart, but I remember how important this is to you and that it'll be for the best by the time it's over. I just need you to update your parents for me and let me know if I'm still supposed to go over there Christmas evening. Or they can call me, it doesn't matter. Take care of yourself and expect a very special present when you get home! Love always, Sam xx
She hit the 'Send' button and watched the delivery notification come up. She felt like she'd signed her life away. She'd told him to stay in Newcastle. She wanted to scream at him to come home, she didn't care what it took or the implications it had, she just wanted to see him. But she hadn't. And even though it hurt, she convinced herself it was because she loved him that much.
Back in her inbox, she still had Kevin's email to read. She opened it and her mouth dropped open as she gaped in shock.
Hey there! All ordered and will be on your doorstep in a week. Merry Christmas, love Kev x
Floored, stunned and dazed didn't even register on Samantha's level of shock. She sat there for a good five minutes before Stuart came in with his usual clutter and noise. He dumped his keys on the table with a loud 'clank' and pulled his jacket off, throwing it on the sofa.
“Hey, chuck!” he said cheerily. He then saw Samantha's face, her eyes wide and her mouth open, totally motionless. “What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost. Could you be any paler right now?”
Samantha didn't reply.
Stuart moved closer and crouched down next to Sam's chair. “Uhm, Sam?”
He gently prodded her.
“Yeah…” she answered, distantly, pointing to the screen. Stuart followed her finger and read the message.
“Fuck me!” he yelled.
“Yup, that was pretty much the reaction I was expecting,” Samantha said, still partially dazed.
“Is he for real?!”
“Uhm, looks like it.”
“Sam, he's bought you a gift worth £1500!”
“I know… Well, I think he has… Well, he might have ordered it and I'll have to pay the courier or something…” she drifted off again, still not able to let the realisation sink in.
Kevin had bought her a gift, and a really expensive one at that. What was she meant to do? She couldn't very well accept it. How on earth could she ever repay a gift like that? He certainly wouldn't take money for it. On the other hand, if she just rejected it, he might be offended. He could genuinely think he was helping her out. She didn't mean for him to go and buy the damn laptop. He was supposed to advise her on what to do, give her lists of components to look for, guideline prices… And now…
“What am I gonna do?” Samantha whispered.
“What do you mean?” asked Stuart. “Take the bloody thing and run, woman!”
“I can't do that!” Samantha exclaimed. “It'd feel wrong somehow. I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life because I wouldn't be able to do the same for him.”
“It's a gift, Sammy. Just accept it graciously. He knows he has loads more money than you, and to spend an amount like that on someone takes courage.”
“I can't. I just can't do that.”
“Why ever not?”
“He knows I don't have a lot of money. Well, I gave that impression anyway. He did nothing but talk about it and I mentioned my being uncomfortable talking about it…” She suddenly came to a realisation. “Oh my god, what would Pete say?”
“What do you mean, 'What would Pete say?'”
“What will Pete say when he finds out that my ex-boyfriend has bought an expensive gift for me?”
“Does it matter?”
“Well, yeah!”, Samantha said, as if to state the obvious. “Kevin knows that Pete wouldn't be able to afford a present like this.”
“How would he know that?”
“I told Kevin what Pete did for a living and Kevin was under the impression that it didn't pay well”.
“Is there anything you didn't tell Kevin?” Stuart asked sarcastically.
“Anyway,” Samantha said, ignoring Stuart's last comment, “Pete knew I wanted a newer machine but said he couldn't afford it right now, and would maybe get me one for my birthday next year. How on earth would he feel if he found out my ex-boyfriend had bought me one instead? He'd feel inadequate to say the least.”
“Bummer.” Stuart finally said. “Kevin must still really like you.” Pause. “He does know you are engaged, right?”
“Yeah. I told him a couple of weeks ago when I went to see him in Covent Garden.”
“So, why…?”
“I must have given off the wrong vibe or something.”
“But you said you were engaged,” Stuart countered. “How can that be the wrong vibe?”
Samantha shrugged.
“Oh, you didn't kiss him or anything, did you?” Stuart asked.
“Only on the cheek,” Samantha said off-hand. “And it wasn't even a kiss. More of a brush of cheek skin and a smooching sound!”
“You hugged?”
“Yeah.”
“You hugged?!”
“Hugging between heterosexual men and women who are friends is perfectly acceptable and will not necessarily lead to sex.”
“Says you, who has no platonic male friends.”
“I have you.”
“I'm gay.”
“Tony?”
“Lauren's ex whom you would not find attractive because he's younger than you and you're funny about ages.”
“If I don't find him attractive we can be friends, right?”
“But you wouldn't find him attractive anyway and you're only friends because of his relationship with Lauren. If anything, you're not really friends at all. It's not as if you meet up for a drink or anything, is it?”
“So, you're saying that I can only be friends with a straight man if I find him attractive in a non-sexual way?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have that with Kevin!” Samantha said triumphantly. “So there!”
“I dunno,” Stuart said, not entirely convinced by Samantha's triumphant glow of satisfaction at winning the argument. “I have a tiny gut feeling you still fancy Kevin.”
“I don't.”
“Okay, fine!” Stuart put his hands up and started t back away from her. “I'm backing off now. Just waiting for the day I can say 'Told you so!'”
Stuart disappeared into his bedroom and shut the door. Samantha turned back to the email and sighed. She'd have to wait and see if the laptop did turn up and if it was paid for when it did. In the meantime, should she thank him? It'd be rude not to. On the other hand, she wasn't exactly thankful. If anything, it was going to cause more problems than it was worth.
The inbox tab flashed and Samantha reactivated the screen. Kevin had sent her another email.
Hey again! Just in case you forgot, I invited you to a party New Year's and you were going to think about it, I think…? Can't remember if you gave me a straight answer! Anyway, let me know if you're interested still. Love Kev.
Ah yes, the party Kevin had invited her to. Pete was still supposed to come home, just not when he had originally meant to. She didn't want to arrange to go out and not be there the one day she could see him. But, then again, Pete might not be able to get time off because he'd already scheduled to be back at work again by that time. She closed the email programme and made a mental note to get back to him.
Back to Chapter VII
Go to Chapter IX
Samantha was very pleased with her efforts for the wedding. She had managed to purchase most of the things on her list, and if not already purchased, they were on order. Suits had arrived and were checked for missing buttons and full seams before being pressed and stored in plastic covers in Stuart's wardrobe. Dresses had been double-checked for seams and were being stored at Amy's house. The rings had arrived and Pete just needed to check his fitted properly. Matt had shown her the decorations he was using for the hall: icicle-shaped lights; white linen tablecloths with silver grosgrain ribbon on the edges; white coloured tulips and gerberas for the centrepieces, “And mood lighting,” Matt had said, “but I'm not telling you anymore so it's some of a surprise to you. I want your mouth to drop when you enter the room!”
Samantha's only real worry was the catering. The cake had been picked and ordered, due to arrive with the rest of the catered food, but Samantha was uneasy about the whole operation. Pete's parents' friends were never available for her to speak to and she had left various messages with various people at the company. The information she received back would be from Lisa, Tessa, or Mary Anne who were “new to the company” and not very helpful, especially when the messages would contradict each other or just be garbled and confused. She wasn't looking forward to relaying this news to Pete's parents in any circumstances, and Christmas Day would probably be the worst time to do it. She looked at the phone. It was worth one more try.
“Hello, Clarke Catering and Co, Cleo speaking.”
“Cleo?” Samantha said flatly.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“Yeah, I'm trying to get hold of Colin and Catherine Clarke.”
“I'm afraid they're unavailable at the moment, can I take a message?”
Samantha sighed. “Look, it's about the Daniels and Marsters wedding and I need confirmation from them that everything I sent to them on the order form went through okay.”
“A wedding function, yes?”
“Yes, the Daniels and Marsters wedding.”
“Is that Daniels with one or two 'L' s?”
“One.”
“And Masters as in The Master and the Commander?”
“No, as in James Marsters, the actor.”
“Who?”
“M, A, R, S, T, E, R, S.”
“Oh, okay!” Pause. “Sorry, I'm new.”
“Who isn't?” Samantha thought to herself.
“Okay, thanks for your call. I'll pass your message on.”
“Thanks… Oh, no, wait!”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to actually see them or just leave the message on their desk?”
“I'll leave the message on their desk. They're unavailable right now.”
“Meaning they're not in?”
“Correct.”
“Are they ever in?” Samantha said rather crossly, raising her voice a little more in volume. “Only this is probably the fifth call I've made and left a message, and my wedding is in four months and I'm getting all stressed because I'm worried that my guests are going to turn up and not be able to eat and my whole reception is going to be ruined and the day will be a complete and horrific disaster, and all I ask is that I get some sort of freaking call back!”
She finished and gasped for breath, feeling the anger beginning to sting at the back of her eyeballs. There was silence on the phone.
“Uhm, hello?” Samantha asked cautiously.
“I-I-I-I… I'm sorry about you not being happy with the service,” Cleo stammered, sounding particularly upset and like she was going to cry. “I'm just…”
“New, I know,” sighed Samantha, digging her fingers into her eyes and rubbing them up the bridge of her nose to her temple, and then pushing them back down again. “It's just very frustrating, Cleo.”
“Okay, well, I'm going to leave the message on their desks. I don't think I can do much else… But I will tell them as well if I see them,” she added.
“Good,” Samantha said wearily.
“Can I help you with anything else today?”
“No, that'll be all. Bye.”
Samantha slammed the phone down before Cleo answered her back. Back to square one. She'd have to tell Pete's parents. Bugger.
She slumped into her computer chair and switched on the base unit. The internet connection activated automatically and took her into her email inbox. She had two new emails: one from Pete and one from Kevin. She clicked open Pete's email:
Hi Sam, miss you loads!! I know you're gonna hate me for this but I can't come back for Christmas. Work is just manic and way too hectic. The boss is turning into Slave Master Overdrive and isn't allowing anyone to leave until the end of year progress report is complete. It would be already if some idiot down in analysis had proof read his coding properly. Instead of which, we have a couple of zeros missing and an extra five days work ahead of us. I might be able to squeeze New Year out of The Mighty and Unholy Slavemeister Steve but since I was supposed to be working over that weekend anyway, it may not be allowed.
I know if I phoned you about this you'd go all mad and not let me explain properly so I'm taking the coward's way out and emailing instead. Pretty please do not get mad at me and just think of how when you're nibbling on sausage rolls and sipping back Baileys, I'll be having yet another (I can't believe they have the cheek to call it) coffee from the Evil Machine Against Change Giving and yet another round of cheese and pickle sandwiches. Email me back and tell me you love me?? Pete x
Reading the email out to herself brought her insides to a new low. She couldn't possibly feel more lonely right now. How could Steve even think about making Pete work Christmas and New Year? It was unthinkable. She had a good mind to call Steve and tell him what she thought of him. On second thoughts, maybe not such a good idea. Pete wasn't supposed to be using his email to contact her. She wondered if Pete's parents knew. Was she still supposed to go round to Jeff and Annabel's on Christmas evening, even though Pete wasn't going to be there? She looked at the phone, longing for it to ring; for it to be Pete; for her to hear his voice and remind herself of what he sounded like; to try and pick up his scent from the receiver and inhale it so it filled her. Did Pete really value his work so much that he'd give up quality time with her to earn a few extra pounds?
“But this could do wonders for my career,“ he had said, she told herself. She remembered the conversation as if it had happened only yesterday. “My own contract! This could mean leaving my job and going freelance. We could get our own place - a house even. Not a flat, a house."
The conversation echoed in her head. He had told her it was for the best. He said that afterwards things would be better for them. He had done this for her. Because he loved her. Because he wanted her to never have to worry about superficial things like money.
She clicked the 'Reply' button and wrote him an email back:
Hiya hon! It's okay about not coming home for Christmas. Sure, I'm upset that I can't see you after we made plans and after so long apart, but I remember how important this is to you and that it'll be for the best by the time it's over. I just need you to update your parents for me and let me know if I'm still supposed to go over there Christmas evening. Or they can call me, it doesn't matter. Take care of yourself and expect a very special present when you get home! Love always, Sam xx
She hit the 'Send' button and watched the delivery notification come up. She felt like she'd signed her life away. She'd told him to stay in Newcastle. She wanted to scream at him to come home, she didn't care what it took or the implications it had, she just wanted to see him. But she hadn't. And even though it hurt, she convinced herself it was because she loved him that much.
Back in her inbox, she still had Kevin's email to read. She opened it and her mouth dropped open as she gaped in shock.
Hey there! All ordered and will be on your doorstep in a week. Merry Christmas, love Kev x
Floored, stunned and dazed didn't even register on Samantha's level of shock. She sat there for a good five minutes before Stuart came in with his usual clutter and noise. He dumped his keys on the table with a loud 'clank' and pulled his jacket off, throwing it on the sofa.
“Hey, chuck!” he said cheerily. He then saw Samantha's face, her eyes wide and her mouth open, totally motionless. “What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost. Could you be any paler right now?”
Samantha didn't reply.
Stuart moved closer and crouched down next to Sam's chair. “Uhm, Sam?”
He gently prodded her.
“Yeah…” she answered, distantly, pointing to the screen. Stuart followed her finger and read the message.
“Fuck me!” he yelled.
“Yup, that was pretty much the reaction I was expecting,” Samantha said, still partially dazed.
“Is he for real?!”
“Uhm, looks like it.”
“Sam, he's bought you a gift worth £1500!”
“I know… Well, I think he has… Well, he might have ordered it and I'll have to pay the courier or something…” she drifted off again, still not able to let the realisation sink in.
Kevin had bought her a gift, and a really expensive one at that. What was she meant to do? She couldn't very well accept it. How on earth could she ever repay a gift like that? He certainly wouldn't take money for it. On the other hand, if she just rejected it, he might be offended. He could genuinely think he was helping her out. She didn't mean for him to go and buy the damn laptop. He was supposed to advise her on what to do, give her lists of components to look for, guideline prices… And now…
“What am I gonna do?” Samantha whispered.
“What do you mean?” asked Stuart. “Take the bloody thing and run, woman!”
“I can't do that!” Samantha exclaimed. “It'd feel wrong somehow. I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life because I wouldn't be able to do the same for him.”
“It's a gift, Sammy. Just accept it graciously. He knows he has loads more money than you, and to spend an amount like that on someone takes courage.”
“I can't. I just can't do that.”
“Why ever not?”
“He knows I don't have a lot of money. Well, I gave that impression anyway. He did nothing but talk about it and I mentioned my being uncomfortable talking about it…” She suddenly came to a realisation. “Oh my god, what would Pete say?”
“What do you mean, 'What would Pete say?'”
“What will Pete say when he finds out that my ex-boyfriend has bought an expensive gift for me?”
“Does it matter?”
“Well, yeah!”, Samantha said, as if to state the obvious. “Kevin knows that Pete wouldn't be able to afford a present like this.”
“How would he know that?”
“I told Kevin what Pete did for a living and Kevin was under the impression that it didn't pay well”.
“Is there anything you didn't tell Kevin?” Stuart asked sarcastically.
“Anyway,” Samantha said, ignoring Stuart's last comment, “Pete knew I wanted a newer machine but said he couldn't afford it right now, and would maybe get me one for my birthday next year. How on earth would he feel if he found out my ex-boyfriend had bought me one instead? He'd feel inadequate to say the least.”
“Bummer.” Stuart finally said. “Kevin must still really like you.” Pause. “He does know you are engaged, right?”
“Yeah. I told him a couple of weeks ago when I went to see him in Covent Garden.”
“So, why…?”
“I must have given off the wrong vibe or something.”
“But you said you were engaged,” Stuart countered. “How can that be the wrong vibe?”
Samantha shrugged.
“Oh, you didn't kiss him or anything, did you?” Stuart asked.
“Only on the cheek,” Samantha said off-hand. “And it wasn't even a kiss. More of a brush of cheek skin and a smooching sound!”
“You hugged?”
“Yeah.”
“You hugged?!”
“Hugging between heterosexual men and women who are friends is perfectly acceptable and will not necessarily lead to sex.”
“Says you, who has no platonic male friends.”
“I have you.”
“I'm gay.”
“Tony?”
“Lauren's ex whom you would not find attractive because he's younger than you and you're funny about ages.”
“If I don't find him attractive we can be friends, right?”
“But you wouldn't find him attractive anyway and you're only friends because of his relationship with Lauren. If anything, you're not really friends at all. It's not as if you meet up for a drink or anything, is it?”
“So, you're saying that I can only be friends with a straight man if I find him attractive in a non-sexual way?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have that with Kevin!” Samantha said triumphantly. “So there!”
“I dunno,” Stuart said, not entirely convinced by Samantha's triumphant glow of satisfaction at winning the argument. “I have a tiny gut feeling you still fancy Kevin.”
“I don't.”
“Okay, fine!” Stuart put his hands up and started t back away from her. “I'm backing off now. Just waiting for the day I can say 'Told you so!'”
Stuart disappeared into his bedroom and shut the door. Samantha turned back to the email and sighed. She'd have to wait and see if the laptop did turn up and if it was paid for when it did. In the meantime, should she thank him? It'd be rude not to. On the other hand, she wasn't exactly thankful. If anything, it was going to cause more problems than it was worth.
The inbox tab flashed and Samantha reactivated the screen. Kevin had sent her another email.
Hey again! Just in case you forgot, I invited you to a party New Year's and you were going to think about it, I think…? Can't remember if you gave me a straight answer! Anyway, let me know if you're interested still. Love Kev.
Ah yes, the party Kevin had invited her to. Pete was still supposed to come home, just not when he had originally meant to. She didn't want to arrange to go out and not be there the one day she could see him. But, then again, Pete might not be able to get time off because he'd already scheduled to be back at work again by that time. She closed the email programme and made a mental note to get back to him.
Back to Chapter VII
Go to Chapter IX
© 2004 Clare Benton
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