Married By Christmas Read Online Free Page B

elsewhere, somewhere very different from talking about wedding flowers. But where, or with whom and why?
    That was the question that worried Liv.
    Later that evening, after a long bath, and a large glass of red, Anna looked at Tom as he lay on his bed staring at the spot on the wall just above the TV. He’d said he had to go back to his place tonight, he had a big meeting in the morning, and Anna had accompanied him, unthinking. But now she was getting the distinct impression that he hadn’t really wanted her to come.
    ‘Hello,’ she said pleasantly as she buttoned up her cream linen pyjamas and got into bed. ‘Hello there? Anyone in?’
    Tom smiled, albeit half-heartedly, and held out his right arm to her, which Anna gratefully scrambled into, resting her head against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart under his white T-shirt for a few moments.
    For a while they had always gone to bed naked, or started out with clothes on, which during the course of their progress to bed would be discarded across the flat. Later, when Tom had drifted off, Anna would get up, pick up the clothes, hang, fold and pop them in the laundry as required, seeing it as a triumph of nature over nurture that she was able to be spontaneous even to that extent. But recently – was it recently? – a few months ago perhaps, they had started going to bed in nightclothes. And one night they had gone to bed without even kissing each other goodnight. Anna, who, before Tom, had limited experience of relationships that lasted longer than the seven days it normally took her to do some poor man’s head in, wasn’t sure if this was a normal thing, this cooling-off period, this calming down of passion. She would have asked Liv, but Liv had made her swear, soon after she started seeing Tom, not to tell her about anything she and Tom got up to in the bedroom.
    ‘Why not?’ Anna asked her, bemused. ‘Finally, I have something to tell you and you don’t want to hear it, why?’
    ‘Because …’ Liv had squirmed, looking like a restless little girl. ‘Because it’s been two years since I’ve had a proper boyfriend and, happy as I am for you, one of the main reasons I like you is because you always had a worse sex life than me. Now you have somehow lucked into a really great one, I don’t need to further heighten my personal inadequacies by hearing about it!’
    ‘That’s not the main reason you like me!’ Anna protested. ‘We met when we were nine! The main reason you like me is because I do all your laundry and pair your socks. Oh please, Liv. Who am I going to ask about sex if not you?’
    ‘Um.’ Liv bit her lip, her dark eyes narrowing. ‘You could try Mum? Call her. She’s constantly trying to talk to
me
about sex. “How much sex have you had, Olivia?” “Are you having any sex, Olivia?” “Are you sure you aren’t gay, Olivia? You know we wouldn’t mind at all. Ask your brother, he’s completely gay and Daddy and I love him just as much, Olivia!” You know, all the things that mums are not supposed to ask their daughters unless they want to mentally damage them for life. Give Mum a call, she adores
you
.
You
are her favourite.’
    ‘I think I know why you haven’t had a boyfriend for two years,’ Anna had said, gently. ‘Not because you aren’t beautiful. With those massive brown eyes, and incredible skin and that kick-boxing-toned body of yours, you are stunning. And not because you seem to insist on wearing boys’ clothes, and no make-up and having a hairstyle that looks rather like you accidentally wandered into a lawnmower. It’s because you behave like every man you meet is your mate, the bloke you want to go for a pint with. You need some mystery, some allure, some waxing, some eyeliner and some …’
    ‘Deep seated psychological flaws?’ Liv countered with a smile. ‘It does seem to have worked for you. Being mental.’
    ‘I’m just saying, you don’t realise how gorgeous you are,’ Anna