Page 66 of Millie & George: Young Love
There was a quiet cough from the doorway. Under the cover ofHave Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Owen had re-entered the room and was standing by the door, face serious, dark blue eyes assessing the situation.
He said, ‘If you want to apportion blame, Millie, then it should really be placed on the kid himself. He was the one who attacked George.’
‘Keep out of this,’ George hissed.
To Owen, Millie said, ‘Will you take me home, please?’
‘No, please don’t go.’ George protested. She didn’t even look at him before she ran to Owen and clung to his arm. She looked so small and vulnerable. He looked so tall and heroic. George hated him at that moment, even though Owen had tried to defend him. It had made no difference; Millie had chosen him. George felt abandoned and lonelier than he had ever done in his entire life.
‘Please, Owen,’ she said. ‘I trust you, even though you’ve lied to me. Please, will you take me back to my home?’
‘Millie! You can’t spend Christmas Day on your own, please?’ George cried out and tried to take her hand.
She snatched it away and turned again to Owen. ‘Take me home.’
Owen shook his head. ‘You’re making a mistake. You should give George a chance.’
Millie’s mouth hardened, and she said, ‘If you won’t help me, I’ll go alone.’ She pushed past Owen and ran from the room.
‘No!’ George tried to go after her.
Owen held out a hand and stopped him. ‘Let her go.’
‘What? No. I can’t. I love her. I can’t lose her.’
Owen turned off the CD. The silence that followed seemed thick with misery. ‘Let her go for now,’ Owen said. ‘You can go over to her place in a while, when she’s had time to calm down. Or your mum or I could go. Try talking to her.’
George shook his head.
The front door slammed shut.
George looked out the window. ‘She’s gone. She meant it. I…’
Sally came in, full of the spirit of Christmas, a drink in one hand and a plate of sausage rolls in the other. ‘What’s happened to the music?’ she asked.
