Dying for Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

you married a police officer.’
    ‘Then you get a new job. Or …’
    ‘Or?’
    ‘Or get a new family.’
    * * *
    ‘So, just to be clear, you’re holding me prisoner here.’
    By spelling out the situation in all its ridiculousness, I was giving him one last chance to make it not true. One last chance for it to be a joke, or a misunderstanding.
    Dominic nodded enthusiastically, as if I was a child who’d just grasped some complicated mathematical concept. ‘Exactly!’
    ‘But why?’
    ‘Because, like many people, Christmas is my very worst time of year. It has so many memories, doesn’t it? It comes so loaded with expectation. I just don’t want to be alone. We outsiders must stick together. More champagne?’
    He had brought the bottle over and was topping up our glasses, even though mine was still half full.
    ‘So you want me here for … company?’
    He nodded again and reached out to touch my knee.
    ‘Exactly right. Company. And other things.’
    I didn’t like that. Those ‘other things’.
    ‘But people will be looking for me. I’m due to spend the day at my parents’ house tomorrow. They’ll get the police involved.’
    ‘I expect they will.’
    ‘Someone will have seen us,’ I pressed on. ‘In the café. Someone will have seen us. There’ll be CCTV footage.’
    ‘There’s a chance there might be footage,’ he said, as if he was considering my argument carefully. ‘If we were sitting in the right place, which we weren’t. Anyway, it was a last-minute change of plan, you said, to come into the West End instead of shopping locally like you’d originally intended. I imagine that will … confuse things. True, they will probably trace your bank-card payments. But that will take a while, and then they’ll have to find out where you went afterwards. Did you see how many people there were on Oxford Street when we walked to the car? Good luck trying to find us in that!’ He paused. ‘Anyway, if you’re worrying about missing Christmas, please don’t, we have plenty of festive cheer right here.’
    He indicated the tree with the beautifully wrapped presents piled up underneath.
    ‘So, you want me to stay here for the whole of Christmas Day?’
    The thought of twenty-four hours in that apartment with him was like a pair of freezing hands squeezing my chest. Now Dominic was laughing, as if I’d made a deliberate joke.
    ‘Not Christmas Day, of course not.’
    Hope surged briefly.
    ‘What I mean is, not just Christmas Day. You’ll be my guest over the twelve days of Christmas – from now until January sixth. Did you know, by the way, that day is called Epiphany? Don’t you think that’s neat?’
    ‘Twelve days?’
    ‘Well, technically, it’s thirteen as the twelve days don’t actually start till tomorrow. Don’t worry. We’ll find plenty to do to amuse ourselves. I have so much to tell you. That’s the thing about Christmas, isn’t it, you give yourself to other people, like a gift? The actual gifts are just a bonus. Have you noticed there are twelve presents under the tree? One for every day. And we have New Year to look forward to, all those resolutions to be made. The days will just fly by.’
    Now Dominic had moved up the sofa so close to me that I was breathing in the warm breath that he’d just breathed out.
    ‘I want us to get to know each other, Jessica.’
    I watched his hand stroking my thigh as if it was a wasp about to sting.
    ‘I want us to … unwrap ourselves for one another. Doesn’t every human being long for that above all else – to be fully known?’
    I wondered if he could hear the bile that had just come shooting up, swilling around in my mouth. I wondered if he could feel my leg muscles shrinking from his touch. My eyes darted wildly around the apartment, canvassing for escape routes. Not the windows, all of which gave on to the black void of the Thames. And as far as I could tell there was just the one door in and out, wide and industrial and solid. If