Chapter 5

The grand Singapore Lovers’ Reunion was providing quite the floorshow at the Total station.

‘I, er, dropped in to surprise you.’

‘You’ve certainly done that.’  Emily squeezed Dominic again.  ‘I thought we had
nothing planned ’til the new year.’

‘Guess I couldn’t wait that long.  I was just on my way round to yours, but had to fill up first.’

‘You’re so thoughtful.  Well it’s a good job you bumped into me, else you’d have got to my house only to find I’m out!’

‘Quite.  That milk’ll be yogurt if you’re not careful.’  He gestured to her carton being rapidly hugged to death between them.

Emily guessed he was embarrassed, and pulled away a little.  She wanted to say sod the milk, but also wanted to avoid turning him off with these unsophisticated displays of affection.  She must remember he was an older man.

He’d lost his holiday nonchalance now, and looked all manly and wintry in a black coat.  If anything, though, he was sexier than in those shorts, unseemly memories of which had persisted since her homecoming.

‘Hey, I’ve got a better idea than coming round to mine,’ suggested Emily, ‘have you had lunch?’

‘Not yet.’

‘How about we grab a couple of sarnies from here,’ she nodded towards the kiosk, ‘and go sit up Enville Common in the car?  Not exactly the Raffles, but I do love a picnic.  Reminds me of school trips – packed lunches in fields.’

Dominic peeped at his watch.  ‘O…K…I’ll get then them, seeing as I’ve got the petrol to pay for in any case.  Want to wait in the car – with your milk?’  The lock shot up at his remote control touch.  ‘What’ll you have?’

‘Prawn mayo, please.  Cheers Dom.’

‘Crisps?’

‘I shouldn’t, but go on then.  Salt and vinegar.’

At Enville Common, three miles away, Emily layered crisps from the bag balanced between her knees into her sandwich and bit into the now crunchy prawn mass.

‘What you doing for Christmas?’

‘Spending it with friends, I s’pose.’  Dom had confided in Singapore that he was an
only child, both parents dead (car crash, but he was too raw to talk about it yet).

‘Tim?’

‘Eh?’  Dom made more refined inroads into his tuna and sweetcorn.  ‘Oh yeah, I s’pose.  Haven’t sorted anything out for definite.’

Something about his vague and repeated ‘I s’pose’ touched Emily.  ‘Why don’t you come to us?’

‘To you?’ 

‘Yeah, it’ll only be the three of us.  Plus Noodles, of course.’

‘Won’t your parents mind?’

‘No, Mom always does tons.’ 

‘I couldn’t.  They don’t know me.’

‘Well I know you, and they say friends of mine are always welcome.’  This was true – usually – though his image, from the eyebrows down, hadn’t charmed Mom thus far.  ‘I can’t leave you potentially alone over Christmas.’

‘I might not be alone.’

‘But you’ve got nothing firmed up.  Don’t wait for Tim to make his mind up – come to mine!’

Dom scratched his neck with his sandwich-free hand longer than an itch could feasibly persist.  ‘No, I’ll be fine, really,’ he replied unconvincingly, ‘don’t want to intrude.’

‘You’re tempted, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, I’m always tempted with you!’

Emily resisted giggling at the innuendo – schoolgirls who’d never had boyfriends did that.  ‘Then what’s stopping you?’

It was those eyes again!  He blamed it on the eyes.  Those chocolate orbs – by turns teasing and deep, merry and sensual – that first lured him at the Raffles. 

Beauty was easily exaggerated in such a heaven, but she was no less an enchantress in this rustic beauty spot.

She looked like a snow queen in her fluffy coat, her bubbly hair spilling down the collar.  Unfortunately for him, she was the same tempting Emily whether dressed like this or in a sarong.

‘Emily Smeed, you’re a hard girl to say no to.’

And you can take that two ways, Emily again didn’t say.  ‘So you’ll come then?’ 
Oops, and that!  ‘For Christmas Day, I mean!’

A pause, then ‘Yes.’

‘Fantastic!  About half-one-ish OK?  And don’t worry about the folks.  They’ll love you.  Now you’ve got the address.  Can I have yours, by the way?  You never got round to giving it me in Singapore.  Haven’t got a pen on me, though.  Hang on, I’ll put it in my mobile.’

Dom scrunched his now empty sandwich packet and returned it to its carrier bag.

‘Oh come here,’ he drew her into his arms, she was compelled to drop her lunch,

‘I’ve been dying for another Em embrace.’

His kisses were as exhilarating as Emily remembered – she could even disregard their collective seafood-sandwich breath and his cheesy turn of phrase.

Dominic turned left into Church Road and drew on to the Bargeman pub car park to drop her off.  He continued up Church Road, while Emily walked back into High Street towards home.  She was still flushed from her in-car entertainment, and felt naughty when she encountered the vicar, of all people, with a quiz book under his arm.  Ellery was fresh from the sensational jilting by the young Chill Cabinet magnate of his fiancée. 

‘The lad had a face on him when they arrived, mind.  She was your typical happy little bride-to-be, but he was like Herod in a mac…he ended up telling her as he couldn’t go through with it, they had this argument that went thermonuclear before you could blink – and he stormed off!’

The poor jiltee was apparently not the sharpest tool in the box.  She thought the author of Tess of the d’Urbevilles was Stan Laurel’s pal.  Emily sensed that by Boxing Day half of South Staffordshire would be acquainted with that anecdote.

‘I know the Chill Cabinet, Dad’s work supplies to them.  Never actually met any of the family, though I knew they lived round here.  Good job they don’t show their faces much in Lower B, with you around – you’re as bad as my mom for gossiping.’ 
Emily knew she wasn’t offending the vicar, whom she’d known since he put a Last Supper dot-to-dot in front of her at Sunday school.  ‘Done any game shows lately?’

‘Still trying for Millionaire at the moment.  That’s the big goal.  Just have to keep phoning – and swotting.’  He tapped the cover of the quiz book, which he’d just purchased from Pyke’s.  ‘Anyway, hope you have a peaceful Christmas, me dear.  Remember me to your folks.’

‘Will do.  Merry Christmas Ellery.’