Page 43 of Chasing Temptation
Our new lifetogether continues as if the trip to the prison never happened. Quinn doesn’t really mention it, but now she’s got her answer she’s relaxed somewhat. So what if we have to wait five years for her to be a free woman? It’ll be worth it.
With only a week before we head off to the Cotswolds to celebrate Christmas as one big, dysfunctional family, Quinn insists on doing something that I’ve never been all that fussed about, decorating the flat before Eddie comes round for her to admit that she’s not returning to work. Lauren used to somehow manage to get me to help her, usually with blackmail of some kind that involved a night out and free alcohol, but this year I’m actually looking forward to doing something so normal.
We spend almost an entire day shopping for everything we’re going to need. Quinn oohs and ahhs for hours over what colour theme she wants before eventually deciding not to have one and just going all traditional.
My van looks like Santa’s thrown up inside it by the time we head towards home ready to put it all in place. I’ve got a giant arse tree strapped to the top, which makes everyone we pass look our way.
Even with a working lift it takes us three trips to get everything up to the flat.
“Have you got a Christmas playlist on your phone?” Quinn asks, putting the bag full of mulled wine, mince pies and dinner ingredients in the kitchen.
“Do I look like the kind of guy who has a Christmas playlist?”
“Scrooge!” she calls back while I pull up something along the lines of what she’s after and hit play.
The beginning of ‘Step into Christmas’ fills the flat and she immediately starts wiggling her hips in time with the music.
I think I’m going to enjoy the next few hours.
With the music blaring, we turn the flat into Santa’s grotto and by the time we’re waiting for Eddie to arrive, lights twinkle, the festive candle Quinn picked up along with her cooking fills the air, and it all takes me back to a time where I was so innocent I had no idea what my life was really like and when I actually enjoyed family Christmases. I was probably four or five, and the thought of it being twenty years since I enjoyed this time of the year sits heavy in my chest.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn asks, making me jump as she wraps her arms around my waist and presses her face between my shoulder blades. I instantly relax.
“Just thinking about my childhood.”
“Do you have any good memories?”
“A few. Before my parents showed their real colours. You?”
“Same, although I think I had a few more years than you did. But at the same time, I wasn’t brave enough to get out when things started going south.”
“None of that matters now.” Spinning her around so I’ve now got my arms around her waist and my chin resting on the top of her head, we both stare at the twinkling lights of the tree. “My life started the day I walked into your classroom. The world is our oyster. We can make our own memories, our own families, our own happiness.”
“That sounds perfect. This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”
“Just the first of many, babe.”
She looks back over her shoulder at me and just as I’m about to press my lips to hers, the buzzer goes off.
“Cock blocker,” I mutter much to Quinn’s amusement as she walks over to the door to let Eddie in.
We’re instructed to sit at the table while Quinn finishes off dinner. Eddie chats away about something, probably something boring he read in The Times, but I’m too distracted watching Quinn move about in the kitchen and bending over to pull the chicken out of the oven.
“Are you even listening?” he snaps, dragging my attention back.
“Honestly, no, not a fucking word.”
“I hope you’re a better student than dinner guest.”
“I don’t know if my teacher will agree.”
“Pain in the arse,” is called from the kitchen.
“The woman doesn’t lie.”
Eddie falls quiet as Quinn brings our plates over and we start to tuck in.
“This is incredible, thank you.”
