So, I've been reading a bit lately about this mystery footage of Kayleigh with a parcel. I'm not optimistic enough to actually believe it really does mean there's a surprise extra episode, but a girl can dream. And to my mind there's really only one thing that could possibly be in that parcel.
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xXx
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Kayleigh sighed at herself in the mirror in Mandy's hallway. She touched her hair, checking the extensions were firmly in place. She ran a finger over her lips to smooth out her lipstick. The normal morning routine felt like a waste of time. It had crossed her mind to call in sick again, but she wasn't sure how much longer Simon would buy the lady-time story.
It had been six long days since she had climbed out of John's car and into the taxi. Six days since she had been strong enough to go into work and risk coming face to face with him across the aisles. She wasn't sure what was worse – the crushing heartbreak at realising he didn't reciprocate her feelings or the toe-curling embarrassment for ever assuming that he did.
"That's your problem, you assume too much," he'd told her once. Could she really have imagined it all? Surely it wasn't possible to be so far off the mark.
Her phone hadn't stopped since that day. Calls and texts from John, from Elsie, from Diane on non-foods. She'd ignored them all, hadn't even opened the texts. What could anyone say that would be worth her energy when it was taking every ounce she had not to break down in tears? Mandy had been good, delivering beans on toast with a hug every evening and a cup of tea in the mornings but otherwise staying out of her sister's way. Steve had cuffed her lightly on the shoulder and told her to "cheer up" on the single occasion they had met on the landing outside the bathroom.
Summoning up her strength, she pulled open the front door and put her face out into the sunshine. It was autumn now for sure, the leaves on the trees an ever-changing shade of brown, but the sun was still doing its best to brighten the world. She briefly considered a thicker coat, but decided that the walk would warm her up and so stepped out into the air.
Steve was working on his bikes, as always, "Morning, love. You feeling up to going in today?"
"Got no choice if I want to keep my job," she replied, coming to stand nearer to where he was tinkering.
"Do you?" he asked in an uncharacteriscally astute observation.
She shrugged. Did she? Could she keep going to work there every day with him? Could that work? But she had so many friends there. Why should she be driven out? Something to think about on the long journey in.
"Anyway, listen, I know this might not be great timing but I've got some bits I need to give back to John and I wondered if you wouldn't mind…" he held out a small brown jiffy bag to her.
Her mouth dropped open, "What?"
"He gave me some parts for the bike but I don't need them," he waggled the parcel, "You don't need to speak to him."
"I don't think…" she began.
He stood up and pushed the parcel into her hand, "Please."
Sucking in a breath, she shoved the package into her bag and turned on her heels to march out of the drive. She hoped she was far enough away from the man by the time she started crying.
xXx
It was a miserable journey to work. The bus was busy, the metro was so full she'd had to let two go through before she could squeeze on and that made her late. The whole thing wasn't helped by the fact she'd spent most of the journey trying to work out how to give John the bike parts without actually having to speak to him. Dave Thompson would be her messenger boy, she'd decided, whether he liked it or not.
So it was with disappointment that as she rounded the corner of the store to get to the staff entrance the first thing she saw was John leaning against his car. She stopped dead. Why was he there? He should be inside. If she was late then he definitely was and standing by his car was no excuse.
It was only when he looked up and locked eyes with her that she realised what he was doing. He'd been waiting for her. He stood up straight and waved hesitantly. She knew she had a choice. Turn and run or get over herself and face up to him. And there was no way Kayleigh Kitson was going to be seen as a wimp, even if she felt like one.
Fixing a steely glare on her face, she started the short walk over to his car. As she neared him she pulled the package out of her bag and thrust it into his chest when she was close enough.
"Here you go. Is that what you were waiting for?" she spat, turning back around as she went to walk away.
John grabbed her arm, "No, wait. It's for you."
She pulled her arm free, "What?"
"It's for you. It's a present for you," he explained, clearly nervous.
"But Steve said…"
"I know what he said. I asked him to say it. I knew you wouldn't take it otherwise.
She shook her head, "Bloody men. You're all as bad as each other." Once again she turned to walk away and once again he grabbed her arm.
"Kayleigh, please. Just open it."
"I don't want anything from you John. Not anymore." Her stern face was beginning to fail her and she knew she needed to extract herself from the situation before she let herself down.
He held out the parcel. With a huff of annoyance she grabbed it from him and tore at the end. John fought the urge to tell her to be careful. After a few moments she put her hand inside and produced her present. It took her a few moments to focus on it. To understand what she was seeing.
"What…?"
"I saw it and thought of you," he shrugged, unable to keep the smile from his face.
Kayleigh peered down at the object. It was a snow-globe. Not one of the big, delicate glass ones. This was one of the semi-circular, plastic ones you'd inexplicably get at the seaside with a beach and deckchair in and a picture of the sea in the background. Only this one wasn't beach themed. On both sides of the central partition of the "globe" was the Harry Potter selfie they'd taken before the staff party where they'd both looked so happy. And decorating the rest of the space were Christmas trees, elves, snowmen and presents.
She shook it gently and watched snowflakes fall in front of their faces.
"It's musical," John said quietly.
"What?"
"Musical," he reached across and felt under the base of the ornament, careful not to touch her, until he found a switch.
Mariah Carey's unmistakable voice came flowing out of it, a tinny recording, but no denying the song, "All I want for Christmas is you."
Kayleigh couldn't bear it anymore. Covering her mouth with her free hand, she began to sob. John instinctively put his arms around her, holding her close as she let out her frustration and sadness. However, it only took a few moments for her sadness to turn to anger. Pushing her way out of his embrace, she started hammering against his chest and shouting at him.
"What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to me? Why are you messing with me? It's cruel, John, it's cruel. You either want me or…"
Silence reigned as he caught her ranting mouth in a deep, solid kiss. He was surprised that she stayed silent as he let her go. She seemed to be trying to process her thoughts.
"I'm so sorry, Kayleigh. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. I'm an idiot. I thought it was better, easier, to avoid all this stuff altogether, but god I wanted to die when you got out of the car," he looked sick at the memory, "Please give me another chance."
She glanced down at the snow-globe, "Why should I?"
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "Because I love you. And I'm hoping you still love me."
A fresh round of tears escaped her eyes, less violently this time. She went to wipe them away, but John's hands got there first, holding her cheeks and using his thumbs to mop up the moisture. Her heart was beating so quickly the noise of it was drowning out the rest of the world. The only thing she was aware of was this man in front of her and there was no point in denying she was still mad about him.
Finally managing a weak, watery smile, she looked up at him, "Don't do it again."
He grinned, "Never." She moved this time, initiating another kiss, and could feel him wrapping his arms around her once more, holding her close. As she broke the kiss she rested her forehead against his and just enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms.
"Come on," he said eventually, "Get in the car."
Her brow furrowed in confusion, "What? I've got work."
"No you haven't," he shook his head, still grinning like a school boy, "We've both got the day off."
"Why? Where are we going?"
"I've got a full tank of diesel and Now 48 in the CD player. We've got six days of car journeys to catch up on. I might even buy you another Fat Boy if you promise not to black up."
She beamed at him, "Sounds like a perfect day."
"Lou Reed, 1972," he said as he opened the driver door.
"I prefer the Children in Need version," she argued as she clicked her belt into place.
"That's it. Get out of the car," he pretended to turn off the ignition and she laughed, "Flippin' heathen."
CD1, track 1, Atomic Kitten played on the radio as they headed out onto the streets of Manchester. And this time when track 2 came on they listened to it together.