Chapter Twenty-One

I tried to persuade Ben that we shouldn’t spend Christmas with his parents but he was infuriatingly intransigent on the matter. ‘I promised Mum ages ago that we’d be there and I can’t let them down now.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t have promised anything without checking it with me first.’ I couldn’t believe he hadn’t learned his lesson from the last incident with Matt and Freya.

‘You were there!’ Ben protested, a flicker of annoyance passing over his face. ‘I didn’t think I needed to check with you again.’

I hesitated, wracking my brains to remember any such conversation. It must have been back in the summer when I was still trying to be on my best behaviour. It was also before my body swelled up like a balloon, and. I really didn’t want Peter seeing me looking like this but I could hardly tell Ben that. ‘Fine!’ I snapped, resigning myself to spending Christmas with them, but vowing to make it as uncomfortable as possible. It would be fun watching Peter having to bite his tongue all the time.

So on Christmas Day, Ben drove us out to Suffolk. He kept throwing nervous glances in my direction, which only served to make me feel even more bad-tempered.

Jo threw open the door as we pulled up. ‘Hello, you two! Happy Christmas!’ she trilled in her irritating, squawky voice. I was disappointed to see her looking glamorous, pretty and, worst of all, slim.

Ben kissed her as we joined her on the doorstep. ‘Hi, Mum, happy Christmas.’

‘And look at you!’ Jo beamed, as she kissed me on both cheeks, before motioning towards my rounded stomach. ‘You’re cooking nicely.’

I wanted to slap her. ‘You make me sound like a bloody turkey!’

‘Oh! Well, you’re certainly the most beautiful turkey I’ve ever seen.’ Jo looked flustered and there was an awkward pause as both she and Ben watched me nervously, waiting to see what I would do next.

‘Right,’ I said eventually. ‘Are we standing out here all day or are we allowed in?’

Jo almost gasped with shock, before gathering herself. ‘Of course! Come on through. Peter’s in the kitchen.’

I smiled inwardly as I followed Ben and Jo into the hallway. I was suddenly looking forward to seeing Peter again.

Ben took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack before turning to me and reaching out to take my coat. ‘Leave it!’ I snapped. ‘I’m cold.’ I wasn’t cold at all – if anything, the bump was like a permanent hot water bottle, which meant I was always very warm. But I wanted to be as difficult as possible.

‘Look who’s here!’ Jo trilled, as we reached the kitchen. Peter had his back to us, stirring a pan on the Aga. I figured it was the mulled wine Ben had warned me about, which apparently he made every year, even though everyone hated it, but he had done it for so long that no one had the heart to tell him it was disgusting. I was glad I wouldn’t have to drink it, as I was such a respectable teetotaller these days.