Page 96 of Spiralling Skywards
My brother’s housewas very similar to the one that I’d gone to view with Liam, and I wondered on the drive over there if Liam had gone through with the purchase.
We’d been in each other’s company only twice since I’d ended things with him almost a month ago, both times at the pub when, luckily, there was a crowd of us, so it didn’t make things too awkward. I didn’t ignore him. I just didn’t engage him in any kind of conversation. Will was also there the first time we all went out and had pissed me off by being overly touchy feely with me. I knew he was just trying to garner a reaction from Liam, and a very small spiteful piece of me wanted to do the same. Then I remembered how he’d looked getting into his car the night he’d seen Will kiss my forehead outside my house. It was just a simple peck but it probably looked worse from his angle and he’d looked devastated, and I didn’t want to do that to him. I knew only too well how that felt.
I’d threatened Will that if he did anything like it again, our friendship would be over. Thankfully, he was busy at work the following week and didn’t make it to our weekly pub night. He’d apologised and things had proceeded along the same between us, him incessantly flirting, me wishing that he stirred something more than a little desire inside me. He was hot, and I was flattered, but there just wasn’t that spark that I’d felt with Liam. I knew there never would be.
I’d promised Will I’d let him know if I was sure that there’d never be anything more than friendship between us, and I had every intention of doing just that, the problem was, it was now the day before Christmas Eve and telling him then didn’t seem like a very nice thing to do.
The only other communication I’d had with Liam was a text message. It was sent late the same night he’d seen me with Will on my doorstep. I’d cried myself to sleep, and the vibration of my phone had woken me around midnight. I’d debated opening it, but in the end decided not to, just in case it was him telling me what a double-standard little whore I was. I already knew that and didn’t need it spelled out to me. I’d felt bad enough already, so I went back to sleep. I ignored it the next day too, and every day since. It was like a little challenge to myself. By not opening that text message, I somehow proved I was doing fine and moving on.
I’d gotten my period the week after the weekend that I won’t talk about, and definitely don’t think about over and over . . . and over again. In no way whatsoever was I ready for a baby, but I’d felt both elated and devastated at the same time when I’d woken in the night to the familiar cramping in my belly. For a brief moment, when I’d looked down at the spots of blood in my knickers, I felt like I’d once again lost and Olivia had won. She had everything. She had him, and she had his baby. I had a broken heart and period fucking pain.
***
Christmas Eve fell on a Monday that year, having that Sunday before all of the crazy began was like a day to draw breath after the weeks of build-up. Luke had warned me that Liam would be joining us, so I was sort of prepared to be in his company. My anger towards him had dissipated over the weeks, my heart still hurt and despite only being together a month, I missed his company but I was surviving, I’d get by.
Sasha was having lunch with her parents and would arrive later in the evening. Having that extra day was nice, instead of rushing around manically on Christmas Eve, the day would be spent chilling with all of my favourite people.
Lunch that year would include myself, Luke, Will, Liam, Shain, Sasha, and Callum, an old school friend of my brother’s. Sitting at the dinner table with both Liam and Will was not something I was looking forward to and I just hoped that everyone would be on their best behaviour.
I’d drawn Shain in the Kris Kringle. The budget we set was one hundred pounds, it sounded a lot, but it barely covered the cost of some perfumes or aftershaves, and some years, it was the only decent present we got.
Despite not knowing him personally, the fact that I knew he was from Aus made it easy for me to decide on an Armani scarf as Shain’s gift. I picked it up at an outlet store and it fit the budget.
I still had the scarf of Liam’s I’d been wearing on the weekend we won’t mention. It most definitely had never found its way under my pillow, and it would be ridiculous to even suggest that on occasion I may have sniffed it, worn it and cuddled it, but anyway, yeah. Shain was Australian, he was bound to be feeling the cold, so a scarf it was.
Despite the Kris Kringle, I still bought extra gifts for Sasha, Luke, Will, and at the very last minute, Liam, too. I didn’t want to make things awkward, so it was nothing too personal.
I was the first to arrive at Luke’s. I’d helped him tidy the house and make up the beds in the two spare bedrooms. We’d then polished off a bottle of red as a treat for all our hard work. Luke had gone all out and bought a real Christmas tree, which was impressively decorated with ribbons, bows, and baubles, nothing sparkly or tinselly in sight. He switched on the clear white lights that were woven through the branches and stood aside, looking very proud of himself.
“Oh wow. I love it, Luke, it’s gorgeous.”
“Yeah, took me hours.” He shrugged.
He headed over to the fireplace and knelt down in front of it. When he turned and looked up from where he was building a fire.
“You didn’t decorate it, did you?”
He tilted his head to the side and smiled.
“Sunshine. Do I look like Laurence Llewelyn fucking Bowen? Of course I didn’t decorate it. I gave Lizzie the keys to this place and a few hours off Thursday morning after I saw what a great job she did decorating the office.”
I felt a little put out. I was always the one to decorate the tree at our grandparents’ place.
“I would’ve done it.”
“I know you would have.” He blew on the newspapers he’d twisted up and lit. They were set under the wood and coal in the reclaimed wrought iron fireplace he’d added to the room when he’d renovated. The open fire was one of the reasons I loved coming here.
“So why didn’t you ask me?”
“Pick up your bottom lip and stop sulking. I wanted to surprise you. You did the tree every year at Nan’s. I haven’t been here for the last few Christmases, so I thought I’d get a proper tree and decorate it nice for you.”
He sat back on his knees and stared into the fire as the lit paper began to burn and the first flames took hold of the wood.
I suddenly felt emotional. He’d had the tree decorated exactly the way I would’ve done it.
“Well she did a beautiful job, thank you. I love it.”
Luke was, and always would be, my hero. I worried sometimes when I was growing up that the way I worshipped him wasn’t normal. I’d grown paranoid that maybe I had a crush on my own brother, but it was nothing like that. He’d just been the one true constant in my life. My grandad was too old to be a father figure, so it was Luke that I idolised growing up. I still did.
