Page 25 of Baking Battles

It’s funny how being an adult means you can get away with murder. Well, not literal murder, but an adult wearing a proper jacket and boots, pushing a posh pushchair with a bundled-up toddler asleep in amongst the blankets and snowsuit that he has carefully padded around Emi’s little body, doesn’t look out of place anywhere. Especially not at night when people just give him sympathetic smiles, thinking,Thatpoor dad. He has gotten himself into a dreadful routine there, having to walk around the snowy streets at night just so his kid will fall asleep.It’s actually quite peaceful, the snowflakes falling silently around him and the streetlights flickering in the heavy downfall.

And it’s not like the staff at the Comfort Hotel bat an eyelid as he enters pushing the pram, confidently making his way over towards the reception, hoping that Christopher has checked in using his real name. He knows that some of the celebs that TV3 has the pleasure of hosting, prefer to be booked in under a company or agency name, or under stupid code names that make them sound like pretentious twats before Mattias has even approved the ridiculous expenses demanded by the TV3 Talent department.

He pulls his hat off his head and smiles apologetically at the guy behind the desk, clearing his throat to start talking as his name is spoken behind his back.

Because, there he is, bundled up in his parka with his damn bag on his shoulder and a look on his face that is pure relief.

And that’s another good thing about being an adult. You can actually throw your arms around someone and hug the shit out of them without being a total weirdo. Christopher though, is laughing softly somewhere near his neck, whispering “Good thing you turned up. I was looking like a right plonker sitting here with my bag. Can’t stay up in that room a minute longer. I felt like an animal trapped in a cage. I go stir crazy on my own like that. I hate it. I really really hate it.”

“I know.” Mattias says softly. “Come on, let’s go home.”

He grabs Christopher’s bag, and slides it carefully into the basket under the pram, as Christopher takes the handle and pushes Emi out the door, back into the cold which feels like a relief after standing in the heated hotel lobby dressed in full winter gear.

“Do you mind if I push?” Christopher asks. “It gives me something to do. Something to do with my hands.”

Mattias doesn’t mind, shoving his glove-clad hands in his pockets. They walk slowly through the streets, letting the snow cover the ground around them as the shop displays scream out their festive messages and blinking lights. A few restaurants still serving the customers lingering for desserts.

“Can I ask you something?” Mattias starts, tentatively trying to feel his way around saying the right thing.

“As long as you don’t shout at me, because I can’t bear it. But you can ask me anything.”

“Why are you so scared of being on your own?” It’s not the question he was going to ask, but his brain just blurts it out before he can think.

“I don’t know. There is no big drama or reason behind it. I suppose growing up in a big super-close family, I never craved my own company. I was always happier when I was surrounded by people. I still just really hate being alone, especially in unfamiliar surroundings and when it’s dark. Things always become worse in the dark.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts you know.” Mattias tries, but then he knows what Christopher is saying. Things always get worse at night.

“Nobody knows that. I kind of like to think that there are the spirits of people we knew watching over us.”

“Yeah, but, I mean, whenever people try to prove that ghosts exist they are always some poor servant girl who turns up floating through the wall in the middle of the night in her eighteenth-century clothing, crying over her lost lover or something. You never hear of a ghost dressed as Britney Spears in 2007 coming through the walls howling,“It’s Britney, Bitch.”Do you?”

He smiles into his jacket, hearing Christopher chuckle beside him. It’s good that they can talk. Laugh.

“I didn’t come up with that one on my own.” Mattias continues. “I read it on Jodel, and it made me laugh, but it makes sense, don’t you think?”

“It wouldn't have surprised me if that hotel is haunted by a whole team of Britney ghosts. Their rooms were creepy.” Christopher still sounds like he is laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “My turn to ask something.”

“Shoot.” Mattias smiles.

“Why did you split up with Emi’s mum?” Christopher doesn’t even stutter. Just asks. And Mattias swallows loudly.

“Because I wasn’t brave enough to stay. I took the easy way out and left.”

“I don’t believe that. It takes a lot of courage and strength to leave a relationship, especially when you have a child. Why weren’t you happy?”

It’s scary how easy it is to be honest with Christopher. How Mattias doesn’t even think to lie.

“Because I was crap at sex. I couldn’t give her what she needed, because I just, I couldn’t, so I didn’t and she didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Sara is beautiful, she has this perfect body, and when things were good, I loved her. I reallyreallydid love her. But, she can also be mean and judgmental and rude and... I don’t know. When it boiled down to it, we never had sex. I didn’t want to, and she didn’t want me anywhere near her. We were just two people bouncing around in a house that felt like a warzone, where we fought about every tiny little detail, and in the middle was Emi who we both loved to bits, but it wasn’t fair on her. It isn’t fair on Emi to have a mother who cries in the night, because her partner isn't there to comfort her, because he is scared that if he touches her, that she will want more. That if I hugged her, she might think she could have me. It isn’t fair on Emi to have a father who hates who he has become. It became unbearable, and so, one night, I just left.”

He has to walk, uncurl his clenched fists and take a deep breath. He’s never told anyone before. Not like that. Said all the things that have been festering in his head, out loud. It sounded better in his head. Out loud? He’s not so sure anymore.

“What are you, Mattias? What do you identify as?” Christopher’s voice is calm. Calm and reassuring.

“Sex wise?” Mattias’s voice is still shaking. “Sex is not for me. I can’t do it right. I just don’t like it.”

“That’s fine. That’s absolutely fine, Mattias.”

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