'Oh my God,' I whispered, tears starting to stream down my face as he climbed onto it and stuck his front paw on the pad that had been designed for him to start it up again. He sat down as the train pulled away to do another circuit, his head held high, his floppy pink tongue hanging from the side of his mouth, with an unmistakable smile on his wrinkled old face. He was the proverbial pig in muck. I hadn't seen him look so happy in years. 'How … how did you … Miller!' I turned and buried my face in his chest as I started to cry properly.
'Please tell me these are tears of happiness, that I didn't make a huge mistake, overstep my bounds and upset you?' he said softly as he held me tightly to him.
'Happy … tears,' I sobbed. 'How … how … ' I gave up, too emotional to form any more words for a while.
'Let's just say there are perks to having money, like making skilled craftsmen drop everything to work on your project at a moment's notice.' He planted a kiss on the top of my head, then forced me back at arm's length as he wiped my eyes for me and spun me around. He pulled me back against his chest, his arms around my waist, and I covered his hands with mine as we both watched Sumo surveying his garden from his vantage point as he did a full tour. We both laughed as the train came to a stop at the back door and instead of getting off, my happy boy whacked the starter pad again, letting out a woof of delight.
'We'll never get him back in the house,' I laughed.
'As long as he's happy, right?'
'Right,' I nodded, tipping my head back to look up at my thoughtful man. 'And you've no idea how happy you've just made me, Miller. How can I ever thank you?'
'I can think of a few ways,' he grinned with a wink and a wicked twinkle in his eye.
Chapter Eight
Knocking On Heaven's Door
December
'DO YOU THINK THAT will be us one day?' I asked Miller as I sat in his lap in one armchair, Sumo snoring in his, and the Joneses asleep, sitting upright on the sofa, holding hands as Daphne's head rested on David's shoulder. It was Christmas Day, or rather Christmas evening. We'd had a huge Christmas dinner, plenty of good conversation, and had then all sat around in front of the fire to watch the latest Bond film. They'd both fallen asleep within minutes of it starting, even after David had complained of indigestion as they'd hobbled through from the kitchen.
'Do you want that to be us one day?' he asked, reaching up to cup my face with one hand, his thumb sweeping backwards and forwards across my cheek.
'Will I scare you if I'm honest with you?' I held his liquid chocolate gaze, trying to see any flicker of fear, but didn't spot any.
'No, I want to know what you're thinking.'
'Ok,' I nodded, swallowing a lump in my throat. We'd been dating, albeit long distance, snatching long weekends here and there between holidays, for a year now. It was a relationship record for both of us. 'When I think about the future, I imagine myself sitting here with you at Christmas as we watch our children opening their presents in front of the tree, but … ' I hesitated and saw a flicker of a frown grace his face.
'But?'
'I'm not sure you see that future, or if you do, it's a different version of it.'
'I do see that future, Abbie, but I'd be lying if I said you weren't right.'
'You see that picture in New York, don't you?' I whispered, breaking his gaze as I looked down at my fingers, knotting them together anxiously.
'Yes,' he said quietly, gripping my chin and forcing my head up to hold my disappointed gaze.
'Where does that leave us?' I asked, my eyes searching his, hoping he'd have some answers.
'I don't know,' he sighed. 'You really won't consider moving over with me, even just to try it for a while?'
'How can I, Miller? There's my job for a start, I – '
'You can be an accountant in New York.'
'You have different tax laws, rules and regulations. I'd have to retrain,' I reminded him. 'And what about Sumo?'
'We could fly him over.'
'He's a British bulldog.'
'So?'
'They have snub noses, which means their breathing is already compromised. They're classed as flight risks, as too high a percentage of them have died in transit.'
'So we wait until … until … ' Miller broke off and looked over at where my boy was oblivious, sleeping off his turkey and gravy dinner.
'Until he dies?' I exclaimed, stiffening up on Miller's lap. 'That's a bit heartless.'
'That's unfair, you know how much I love him. I'd never wish for it to happen faster to suit my own purposes, but we both know it's inevitable. His cancer's incurable, Abbie. I'm just trying to say that whatever objections you have, there's an answer. I'm not saying now, I'm saying someday.'
'And what about them?' I suggested, tipping my head in our guests' direction. 'Or Georgie? They're as good as family to me. I can't just leave them, leave the place that's been my home for as long as I can remember.'
'So you just expect me to leave mine?' he bit, full of frustration, as I scowled at him.
'You spend more time here than I do in America, Miller,' I reminded him. He'd even purchased a private hanger at the local airport, and his own car, which was left there when he was out of the country. 'And who is over there to tie you to them?'
'That's a low blow,' he grated, suddenly lifting me up as he stood and firmly set me down.
'I wasn't trying to be nasty,' I replied, softening my tone as I reached for his hand, then winced when he pulled it away.
'So my best friend moved here, and I don't have any family in America, but that might change one day.'
'Not if we can't agree on where we're going to live.'
'I wasn't talking about us,' he responded, pulling his grey sweater into position as he stalked across the room and out into the hall. I quickly followed him, checking that our guests were none the wiser to our little disagreement, but David was snoring, in competition with Sumo, and Daphne was still asleep too. How she managed it with that racket going on was beyond me.
'What was that supposed to mean?' I asked as I pulled the lounge door behind me.
'Nothing,' Miller stated, as he grabbed his long wool coat from the rack and pulled it on.
'Where are you going?'
'I need to stretch my legs and clear my head,' he replied, avoiding looking at me.
'Let me write a note in case they worry where we are then,' I suggested.
'I meant on my own, Abbie.' He flashed me an apologetic look as I drew in a sharp breath. Was this a fight? Were we having our first fight?
'Where? For how long? What if you fall over and hurt yourself and I don't know where to find you?' I reached out and grabbed his arm as he went for the door handle. 'Don't leave like this, please,' I urged.
'I'll be fine, I've got my phone.' He picked up my hand and removed it from his arm, giving it a slight squeeze as he did.
'Are you coming back?' I asked, almost choking on the words. The thought that this was it, that we were breaking up over our first disagreement, made my chest hurt. He finally looked at me properly, his serious brown eyes scanning my teary green ones, and he gave me a soft smile, then sighed.
'Of course I am. I'm … frustrated, that's all. I'm finding it harder and harder to say goodbye, Abbie, whatever country I'm doing it in. I don't want this for us. I don't know how much longer we can keep doing this long-distance thing. All I know is that I want to keep doing this, us,' he added gently as he grabbed my face and kissed me hard.
'I want to keep doing this, us, too,' I replied, kissing him back forcefully.
'Then let's agree to put this conversation on hold, but I still need to clear my head. I won't be too long.'
'Promise?'
'Promise,' he nodded seriously. He dropped his forehead to mine and I closed my eyes, inhaling him. He'd always smelled like Christmas to me, that deep, musky cinnamon scent that was so comforting and homely. 'See you later,' he breathed.
He planted a delicate kiss on my nose, then his warmth was replaced by an icy chill as he threw open the front door and stepped out onto a blanket of crisp, white snow. He tucked his hands in his pockets and put his head down as he trudged up to the gate. I stood shivering with my arms around me, waiting for him to look back as he passed through the gate and shut it. But he didn't. It was like someone had just sucked all of the joy out of Christmas at once.
I felt completely deflated as I shut the front door, then headed straight for my drinks stash in the kitchen and poured myself a glass of whisky. I leaned back against the sink and nursed my drink as I tried to use the warmth of the alcohol to breathe some life back into me.
'Abbie, is everything ok?' Daphne's voice startled me, and I looked up to see her holding the doorframe.
'I've no idea,' I admitted, my bottom lip wobbling.
'Pour me one of those, then come and sit down and tell me all about it,' she ordered as she shuffled into the kitchen and settled herself down on one of the dining room chairs. I sat down and started to tell her my fears that Miller and I wouldn't be able to work out our differences.
'If love was easy, there wouldn't be any single people or divorce,' she said wisely as she patted my hand, while I wiped away the last of my tears.
'If we can't agree on this, though … ' I trailed off, shaking my head.