We hope you enjoy Jonathan Dodd‘s 2013 Christmas story. Ed
Gomez stretched out his long legs in the railway carriage. “You sure you want to do this Babe?”
Margo looked at him over the untidy pile of their stuff in random bags. She was beginning to understand the point of luggage. “Yeah. Of course. We’ve been over this.”
Gomez gave her his special I-put-up-with-you look and smiled. “OK. It’s going to be interesting.”
Margo settled herself down again, staring at all that green rolling past, and wondered why she was doing this. She knew why. Because she had to. But she didn’t know why. It just went round and round.
Ever since she had left home after that last stormy argument she had fended for herself. OK, she hadn’t always managed and sometimes she needed to be rescued, but here she was, able finally to afford real train tickets, with a plan. Even though she didn’t know why. Her forehead creased and she bit on one of her less ragged nails.
“It’s not like we have to do this,” she said. “We can just turn round and go back if it doesn’t work.” She pictured their flat, one floor of a dingy squat in East London. It looked terrible outside but they’d fixed it up inside. It was nice. She had drifted here and there, working when she could, doing the benefit thing, until a crappy job washing dishes brought her face to face with Gomez.
He had looked good in his whites, chopping vegetables mesmerizingly fast, and laughing. He was tall and lean, with big eyes, and his head was huge where he had bound up his dreads to keep them out of the food. He watched Margo’s clumsy attempts at elegant washing-up with his knife in his hand, and laughed.
That was it, really. After that they moved in together, found the squat, work somehow became more regular, and they became owners of furniture, argued over and then loved.
And then Margo got this insane idea.
Gomez hadn’t known his father long before he wasn’t there any more, and his mother had struggled to keep her sons steady, but they’d all left when they could, most getting into trouble with the usual things. Somehow Gomez had discovered food, and it had saved him. His mum died and he lost track of his brothers, so he was alone. Until he met Margo. He said he didn’t need anyone else. “No pressure, then,” she said, but secretly she was proud that she was the one, and she loved it when he looked at her like he did that first time in that grubby kitchen.
She was really worried about what they were about to do. They had never been away before. They hadn’t ever had enough money for holidays, and Gomez didn’t even have a passport. They hadn’t even been outside of London. She could see him staring uncomprehendingly at all that space, the occasional complete absence of houses. And cows.
“Man, how can anyone live out here?” And the look in his eyes was panicky.
“This is nothing,” she said. “Just wait until you go over the water.”
“Can’t we just go home?”
She found something relatively soft and threw it at him. She knew he was just as excited and scared as she was, but in different ways. “You’re going to love it!”
She had no idea what was going to happen. She hadn’t seen her parents for nearly ten years, hadn’t even spoken to them for most of that time. Until two weeks ago.
She didn’t get in touch after she left. She felt guilty when she allowed herself to think about them, and she was ashamed of the moments when she had thought of going back as a get-out-of-jail card, in case things got really bad. Then they surprised her by selling the house and moving over the water. They didn’t know that she knew, but she had secretly kept in touch with her old school friend Annie. She hadn’t even dared phone them. Just an email. Her mum replied straight away, with an invitation. “Come for Christmas.” She found that she wanted to see them again.
Transferring everything from the train to the catamaran was difficult – but at least it stopped Gomez from thinking too hard about what was about to happen. His face turned green and his knuckles went white as he gripped the seatback in front of him. “I guess we won’t be booking a cruise next year then!” He could only manage a thin smile.
She reached over. He was so far out of his comfort zone, but he was doing it for her. She put her mouth close to his sweating ear. “I love you Gomez.”
Luckily the sea was quiet. Margo’s heart was racing as they reached the end of the pier. There was a huddle of people waiting with car doors open, but she couldn’t make out if her parents were there. They were kept busy getting everything sorted so they were nearly the last off.
As they came down the ramp she saw them. Her eyes locked on to them straight away. She thought in quick succession that they looked older, then she was surprised that they looked older, then she told herself off because of course they looked older, and then she wanted to cry and run to them, but she couldn’t.
Then she realised that they weren’t looking at her. They weren’t even looking at Gomez. They were looking down, and clutching each other.
“Hello Mum. And Dad. Gomez and I thought you’d like to meet Lily, your granddaughter!” They looked at her then, and she could tell that she had done the right thing.
