Chapter 2

Catherine arrived at the front door at six-thirty, her flight having arrived early thanks to the jet stream and the baggage service being unusually efficient and speedy. Mike was up and ready having disabled the alarms. He did not want the doorbell waking anyone in the house. Brother and sister hugged each other in silence and he helped her in with her three large cases. They went to the kitchen where he made her a cup of tea.

She took her tea into the living room and unpacked one large suitcase. It was full of presents for Claire and the children.

"You've no idea how difficult it is to shop on Christmas Eve, even in New York! So many crowds! You've also no idea how expensive all this lot was, even with the good exchange rate! Thank God they have wrapping services! And the charge for extra baggage at the airport! Phew!"

He murmured his appreciation, promised she would not be out of pocket and they put the presents under the tree.

"Now I want a shower and a rest before the house erupts!" she said.

"You'd better use my bathroom. The sound won't carry. I'll wait down here."

They took her bags to her room and he returned downstairs. After a while he heard her go to her room and an hour later the house began to come to life. The family stayed upstairs but there was much to-ing and fro-ing and conversation.

Mike began to prepare breakfast and then heard steps on the stairs. They entered the living room and then stopped. Then scurrying and cries; the younger children had found the presents.

He went to the door from the kitchen and enjoyed the sight before him. Ginny and Ryan, with the speed and alacrity children have when faced by presents with their names on them, had already ripped the paper from some of them and were exclaiming over the games and toys revealed.

Shania had more decorum and was less speedy, but joined the two youngsters. She was entranced with the clothes and trainers she had unearthed. "Cool!" was her only comment though her face spoke more volubly.

Claire was standing in the doorway her mouth agape. She saw Mike and began to speak. There was not much sense in it.

"Mike! What? How? So many! Sizes? How did you? Where did you?"

"Father Christmas!" shouted Ginny, with a grin. She no longer believed, but maintained the myth for the sake of Ryan.

"Well, Ginny," Mike said ponderously with an eye on Ryan, "Father Christmas works on Christmas Eve. Perhaps this was one of his helpers? In fact I think I hear her now."

Claire spun round and looked shocked as Catherine arrived. Was that disappointment on her face?

"Claire," he said. "I'd like you to meet my sister Catherine. She got in from the States this morning."

The two women smiled at each other warmly. Catherine looked startled at Claire's face.

"These are from you?" asked Claire, gesturing toward the tree.

"From Mike really. I just found them, bought them and brought them for him."

"But the sizes? How--"

"I think I'm about to be in trouble!" Mike admitted. "I crept upstairs last night and got the sizes from the labels on your clothes. Phoned Catherine who bought them for me. Useful her being five hours behind us."

"But so late on Christmas Eve!" exclaimed Claire to Catherine. "How did you do it?"

"With great difficulty, but believe me it's worth it to see them." Catherine gestured toward the smaller children and the grinning Shania.

"I'm very sorry to have looked at your clothes," Mike said to Claire. "It was the only way I could make sure you would have a real surprise."

Claire smiled at him, "It's clear your intentions were good. I'm sorry about not trusting you more after you saved us yesterday; I should have known better."

He shrugged, smiled and that was over.

Ryan brought Claire's parcels to her, and she sat down and opened them.

She gasped at the quality of the clothes -- a dress, a coat and some underwear. She blushed. "I must go and try these on!" she exclaimed and ran upstairs.

"Me too!" said Shania excitedly, and followed her. There was a pause while the younger children were absorbed in their presents and were playing quietly.

"I see what you mean about the abuse Mike, but you've fallen on your feet here," said Catherine softly. "Under those bruises she's beautiful and so is her daughter, and you have a ready-made family – just what you've always wanted!"

Mike grimaced and she laughed, but she was right, he was happy with the family living there.

There was a flurry of movement and the mother and daughter both appeared at the door. Claire was wearing her coat which fitted quite well, but when she shrugged it off, the dress was perfect and she knew it. Not just the fit but the way it set off her rich auburn hair.

For the first time Mike was able to appraise her figure which the dress hugged comfortably and adhered to every one of her contours. She had a medium bust, a narrow waist and wonderfully rounded hips. She twirled and he saw that her bottom was tight and rounded, balancing her top in perfect proportion. Nice legs. She was a classy woman.

He smiled. "It fits very well; it's very pretty and suits you perfectly." He let the ambiguity about her personal beauty stand.

"The underwear is gorgeous but this is all you get to see!" she flirted with a twinkle in her eye. Her lop-sided smile was captivating and her face became beautiful instead of merely pretty in spite of the bruises and swelling.

Then it was Shania's turn. The genuine clothes from the USA enthralled her. They too suited her well. Her smile was simple and unpretentious. She was once again a simple teenage girl without any responsibility or worries for her mother.

Mike set the wood-burning stove, lit the gas poker and soon the logs were burning well, giving additional heat to the living room and the flames throwing a warm flickering glow over the room. Outside, the weak low sun cast long shadows of the house over the garden. Mike was glad he'd thought of ordering a truckload of logs in view of Catherine's arrival. Since Cheryl's departure he had not bothered with the stove. Indeed he rarely had used the living room, preferring his study and its plush reclining armchair.

The turkey was already in the oven and cooking, and Mike busied himself taking the chef's role, leaving Catherine to talk with Claire. They already seemed to have become natural friends.

The meal was a success, Mike had to admit to himself, and in the late afternoon the family played board games. Mike told them that the evening meal was a matter of 'serve yourselves'. He left the food out in the kitchen.

After the children had gone to bed, Ryan clutching his new teddy bear, and Ginny taking her book, Shania retired to the study to play on the computer and send emails to her friends, crowing about her new clothes.

Mike brought out the port and put on a CD of Christmas Carols. He put more logs in the stove. They all relaxed into the easy chairs and sofas and sat in silence, enjoying the warmth of each other's presence.

Shania went off to bed at eleven, and the adults relaxed.

After a while, Claire broke the silence, "Thank you both for a wonderful Christmas Day. Yesterday I was homeless and had nowhere to go. And today, well, I've never had a Christmas like it. How can I ever repay you?"

"Don't start that again," Mike snapped. "We're not in the business of payment here. Just for once just take."

Claire flinched.

"Sorry," she whispered and looked shame-faced.

"Sorry Claire," he was instantly repentant. "I didn't mean to snap. It's been a busy day; I must be tired."

"I'd better go to bed," she said and hurried away.

There was a silence. Mike knew Catherine was going to teach him something. How do you know when your older sister is about to teach you something? Well, she's your sister.

"Mike."

Here it came.

"Yes."

"Go easy on Claire."

"I'm trying. She keeps on about repaying me, about not having any money to pay me."

"Mike, she's got pride in herself. She's got dignity. She feels uncomfortable because she's powerless. She's been kicked around. For God's sake, Mike!"

"Oh, Hell!" The epithet sort of summed up how he felt. It must have been the port.

"Well, go on!"

"Go on what?"

"Go and apologise properly."

"She's gone to bed."

"GO!"

He went.

For the second evening in a row, and there had only been two, he knocked on her door. When she opened it he saw she had been crying. He gathered myself and launched.

"Claire, it was very wrong of me to snap at you. I admire your self-respect and I understand how you feel about depending on me for the time being. Please accept my apology. After your recent experience you do not need any aggravation from me. Am I forgiven?"

She looked at him in shock.

"Forgive you? What for? You've been so good to us and all I can do is moan. I just feel so uncomfortable accepting all this and being unable to repay you. I'm just a little over sensitive at the moment."

"So you forgive me?"

"If you need forgiving, yes, I forgive you. I'm not used to getting apologies."

"Good. Tomorrow perhaps the three of us can sit down and talk about things. It's been too busy yesterday and today. I have some ideas about how we might help you to feel better about staying here."

"I'd like that."

They both stood and looked at each other, each with a half smile on their lips.

"Well then," he stuttered. "Good night."

"Good night Mike. And thanks."

The door shut as he turned away.

Catherine was at the head of the stairs. "Very good, Mike."

Though Mike felt good about it, he scowled at her and she laughed. He could never get the better of her.

The next morning, Boxing Day, Mike overslept. This was usual during holidays when he was on his own. He was something of a workaholic and lived on adrenaline, but as soon as the pressure was off he crashed.

He awoke to the sound of someone knocking at his door and he remembered he had a full house. He checked he was decent and shouted, "Come in!"

Claire entered and brought him a mug of tea.

"Good morning," she smiled. "Catherine said it was time you got up. The children, apart from Shania who's still fast asleep, have been up for hours. I've only just woken up myself; Catherine's been entertaining them. She's very good. I can't remember when I've been so well looked after."

"Enjoy it," he grinned. "You deserve it. It's Christmas and you should revel in the holiday spirit."

"Thank you so much for--"

"Claire!" he tried to look stern but failed, breaking into another grin. "Enough! Get used to it. This is going to be normal from now on; I'm determined to spoil you. Now do as you're told, enjoy it!"

Her crooked smile made her look so beautiful, even though her face was still badly bruised, and part of her lip still swollen: it was in her eyes. Suddenly she swooped on him and kissed his forehead. She stood upright, hands on hips, eyes sparkling. "I'll thank you as often as I feel like it. Get used to it, Mike."

"You can thank me like that as often as you like, but I prefer it on my lips!" he flirted.

She coloured and he wondered if he'd gone too far, but then a look of devilment crossed her face and she once again leaned in and this time he got a gentle kiss on the lips, not passionate but warmly affectionate.

"There," she said. "Is that better?"

"Much! Again?"

"Don't be greedy!" and she flounced out of the room. It was so good to see her so happy and confident after the previous two days. Her character, evidently long suppressed, was emerging again and he liked it.

Shania had been roused and arrived downstairs in her nightdress which was translucent. Mike caught Claire's eye and nodded towards her daughter.

"Shania," Claire said sharply. "Go and put a dressing gown on. That nightie shows a little too much of you."

"That's OK," smirked Shania. "Dad, I mean Mike, won't mind! It's warm in here." She blushed at her mistake, and he wondered at the compliment she'd unconsciously paid and whether it was really unconscious.

"Even so," said Claire.

"Oh mother!" sighed Shania petulantly with all the impatience of her teen years, but she went.

Mike felt good that Shania felt so easy with him, and that her character too was emerging. The family were beginning to feel at home. It gave him a warm feeling. He'd been getting a lot of those warm feelings lately, and he revelled in them.

The younger children had eaten with Catherine long since, so Claire, Shania and Mike ate together. Catherine had cooked bacon, eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms with toast to follow, and so they felt well fed when they rose from the table.

The day was a fine one, though cold, and there had been a hard frost overnight.

"I know we said we three would sit down and talk, but I think on consideration it would be better if I took the children for a walk to the park," suggested Catherine, "They could do with some exercise and it would leave you in peace."

Mike wondered if Shania would want to go with them but she seemed quite keen.

"I think she wants to chat with me," said Catherine in an aside.

So it was that Claire and Mike were left alone to talk. Claire made some coffee and he noted she already knew her way round the kitchen. She brought a tray with coffee, milk, sugar and some biscuits (cookies), though he still felt full from breakfast. They sat in the living room with their coffee; Mike was in 'his' armchair and she on the sofa.

"You start," said Claire, a worried frown on her face.

"Don't look so worried Claire. I'm not going to try to make you do anything. Let's start by putting your mind at rest. This house is now your house; your home. You stay here for as long as you want. Do you have any problem with that?"

"Well," she stopped, uncertain as to how to proceed.

"Well?" he echoed.

She made up her mind.

"Catherine was telling me about your recent love life. You pick up women for one-night stands. I don't think that's a good atmosphere for my children to grow up in." She looked anxiously to see his reaction.

"Easily fixed," he replied. "I don't bring any women here while you live here. If I do have a woman I'll take her to a hotel."

"Why do it at all?" she asked.

Mike thought for a while and she waited patiently for him to answer.

"The obvious thing is a need for sexual release. I know it's possible to masturbate but it's more fun with a partner, especially if she's pretty and athletic," he grinned, but she didn't.