A/N: Thanks you for sticking with me on this, and for your reviews, Chapter 22 as soon as possible because writing is one way of not caring whether it's every going to stop raining …..

Christmas – Part 3

"D… A ... D… D …Y" Sam announced his impending arrival at the top of his voice when he was still half way up the stairs.

"See, told you we didn't have time" Molly was hastily pulling his sweatshirt over her head and even though it was huge on her was twisting round trying to check that it covered her bare bum, her knickers had apparently vanished into thin air so that if Sam hadn't been about to come bursting in she'd have accused Charles of keeping them as a trophy.

"Want to bet?"

"Nah I don't and stop being a sleaze"

Molly was giggling, even though she'd just realised how bloody cold it was in the bedroom, but that was nothing compared to the temperature in the bathroom which was even worse than it had been the night before so that the thought of stripping off to have a shower was a complete no-no. On the one hand she would have loved to stand under the hot water and was definitely a bit whiffy so that she was badly in need of a wash but doing that meant taking the sweatshirt off and that would involve a fair bit of courage that she hadn't quite got, and then she'd have to get out of the shower afterwards which didn't even bear thinking about. If she'd known how bleeding cold this place was, it would have made buying suitable presents a hell of a lot easier, bleeding thermal vests from Damart would have been favourite, although Sam didn't seem to feel the cold at all. He was sitting cross legged at the foot of the bed wearing just pyjamas without a dressing gown or anything on his feet and obviously wasn't even thinking of getting under the duvet as he concentrated all his efforts on doing a number on his dad, wheedling and acting hard-done by when Charles looked likely to stick to his guns and say a resounding no, and mean it.

"But Daddy, Grandpop said he'll take me, he said it would be his pleasure"

"Did he now?" Charles' scepticism showed in his voice "What you mean, Scamp, is that you badgered and nagged until poor old Grandpop gave in and said he would take you, anything for a quiet life"

"He did say he would, honestly Daddy, he did"

"I'm sure he did, okay, well how about you take Molly with you, you and Grandpop can show her the Christmas stalls and the lights and the decorations and all the rest?" He turned towards her to explain that Sam had some money that was burning a hole in his pocket so that his grandfather had given in and agreed to take him into town to spend it, ostensibly on extra presents although he hadn't been specific as to who exactly the presents were for. Charles was pretty convinced that Sam himself would be the main recipient as he winked at Molly giving a tiny nod of indication in Sam's direction.

"Why don't we all go?"

"You'll have fun, and it'll probably be better if you two are out of the way this morning while I stay here with Mum, just in case we get a visitor, we can't leave her to face that on her own" He nodded again in Sam's direction pulling a face to indicate that they should talk about it without the audience "I'll explain later"

Shit, it wouldn't have taken a genius to work out that they were back to bloody Rebecca again.

-OG-

The sun was shining from a pale blue sky as they walked up the High Street and Sam and his grandfather were having a very serious debate about the possibility of there being a white Christmas, which Molly thought was highly optimistic, given that as far as she could tell it was warmer outside than it was upstairs in Royal Crescent. There were a surprising number of people about for a Christmas Eve morning and they hadn't been anywhere near a Tesco's or a Morrison's, the only shops which would have been packed out at home, well apart from the ones where men like her dad, only the ones with more money, would be rushing about buying last minute stuff that their wives and girlfriends wouldn't be seen dead in. Last year her dad had had a flash of generosity or conscience or something and had gone shopping at a market stall for some fake knock-off designer perfume that Belinda had ended up pouring down the bog as soon as she'd opened the bottle and taken a sniff. It was closer to Toilet Duck than Chanel but she'd kept on saying that it was lovely, just a bit too strong for her but that it was the thought that counts, and Nan had kept on agreeing with her, saying "Yeah" and making it blindingly obvious by the face she was pulling and the tone of her voice what her thoughts about it were.

Molly was waiting for the promised text that would tell them when it was safe to go home, Charles had explained in great detail about Rebecca threatening to turn up and whisk Sam away, but how he was pretty sure that if she was going to make good on the threat she would come in the morning or not at all, so he'd promised to let them know as soon as the coast was clear and Molly had pretended that she didn't mind the thought of him stopping at home and waiting for her. She couldn't make a bloody scene every time he had to talk to the woman, she was Sam's mother for fuck sake, and he'd explained how he didn't want Sammie to see his mum getting upset so that he'd feel that he had to take sides or for him to see her making any sort of fuss about Molly or in fact about anything else either. Sam, of course, was oblivious to any tensions or undercurrents that were affecting the adults, even Bill kept on checking his watch, but Sam was happy just spending his money, erring on the side of quantity rather than quality. Bill was happily supporting his selection, extravagantly applauding and admiring his grandson's choices of what was mostly absolute total rubbish, junk that was pretty certain to end up in the bin before New Year. At least buying total crap meant that it was highly unlikely any of it would be duplicated in the expensively wrapped gifts hidden at the bottom of their wardrobe or in any of the parcels already waiting under the tree.

Eventually Bill decided that it was time to go home, text or no text, he was hungry, thirsty, cold and his feet ached as well as being thoroughly fed up that he apparently wasn't allowed to go back to his own home when it suited him. Molly for one was heartily relieved, not only was she desperate to know what was going on back at Royal Crescent but was fed up with speculating as to why the fuck he hadn't texted or called her, she was sick of checking her phone every few minutes but couldn't bring herself to stop doing it.

The illusion of warmth from that blue sky and gentle breeze had long since vanished so that her feet and hands were now so fucking cold that they were numb, and her face was frozen stiff meaning that her nose kept on running so that she felt a constant need to sniff which was most likely getting on Bill's nerves almost as much as it was on hers.

-OG-

"Looking good"

Bill smiled happily at her and nodded his head as he checked around to make sure that he was right and that there was no sign of an unwelcome car sitting anywhere near the house, unfortunately for Molly's peace of mind, there was no sign of Charles inside the house either.

"Where is he?"

Margaret was in the kitchen bustling about making tea and getting lunch ready for Sam and Bill with a face that Nan would describe as a bulldog stung by a wasp. Molly, who'd been starving an hour ago when they'd still been walking around the shopping arcade, found that she'd somehow completely lost her appetite. Her hands and feet were tingling as they thawed out in the welcome warmth of the kitchen, but as she warmed up her nose was running even more than it had been before so that she had to ferret around in the pockets of her parka, eventually finding a very old and well-used manky tissue that was solid so had probably been there for months, but she didn't want Margaret to think she was crying or anything, because she wasn't, not really.

"He's driven her home; they left a little while ago"

Margaret begun to bang plates and cups down so hard that she was in imminent danger of breaking something, but short of chucking the crockery around the kitchen or on the floor and stamping her foot, she couldn't have made her disapproval and displeasure any more evident.

"What? He's taken her home? All the way to fu.. to Dulwich Village? Why?"

"No, not to Dulwich, he wouldn't be that stupid, although right now I'm not so sure" She went to the kitchen door and yelled for Sam and Bill to stop whatever it was they were doing and come and get their lunch, and then tried hard to show some interest and admiration for the tat that Sam was dying to show her "She's staying at her parents' place at Chew Magna"

"Where the f…., I mean where's that?"

"It's not that far from here, I don't know exactly, twelve miles maybe, or a bit further, her parents own half of ruddy Somerset or think they do, well, to be fair they probably do, and it's not their fault ….." She corrected what she was saying "Not all their fault" She paused again "But I can't help it if I can't stand her" Margaret stopped banging the crockery down on the table and turned round to look at Molly "I just wish she could get it into her head that she does not own my son"

Margaret almost hissed the last few words making her feelings very plain as she tried her best to keep her voice down, to make sure that Sam couldn't hear what she was saying about his mother as he sat at the table eating his lunch and demonstrating some plastic puzzle he'd bought, a puzzle which neither he nor his grandfather could fathom.

"But why? Why has he taken her home?"

"Said she'd been drinking, that she'd been drinking yesterday when she called him which worried him, although why it should worry him I don't know, I mean" She shook her head "It wasn't as if Sam was there with her or anything and she's a big girl now, but he said he could smell it on her today and that he was worried about her driving in that state … "

"Well that's good innit? I mean, that's what he does innit? He looks out for people, especially people that he ….. people what are important to him"

She was biting her lip wondering how soon she could escape from this bloody bad dream and knowing that she couldn't get away this side of Christmas even though her worst fucking nightmare had just come true. Her boyfriend, the bloke that she was so in love with, had gone off somewhere to look out his ex-wife and it seemed like he was still with her, after he'd said over and over that he didn't love her anymore, right, well obviously, and he'd forgotten all about his promise to call or text her, let alone tell her what he was doing.

"Oh no, Molly, no, no, no, he doesn't care for her the way you're thinking, no, oh no, no, no, I didn't mean to suggest that there was ….. no, that was all over a very long time ago when that girl set out to destroy him, when she did her absolute best to destroy this family and you want to know something, Molly? I'll never, ever forgive her for that, but no, he worries about her the way he does, not because he's still in love with her or anything so don't start thinking that for goodness sake, but she's Sam's mother and he adores that little boy and because of that he doesn't want anything to happen to her"

"I know he adores him, but I don't understand why he lets her, I dunno, try and push him around the way he does, I mean, how do you know that …. ? It all feels sorta suss to me"

"Molly I am very, very sure, although I wish I knew what's keeping him, he should have been back by now, I'm sure he was expecting to be back before the three of you got back" She checked the clock on the wall, obviously doing time calculations "He can't be much longer, he was going to get a taxi from there or call me or Bill if he couldn't, because of course it would be far too much to expect her father to give him a lift home" She shook her head, obviously not only annoyed with Rebecca but furious with her entire family, and then caught sight of the expression on Molly's face "Now don't start worrying, he'll be fine"

"I know"

But she didn't, and she couldn't, not only was she upset and angry, well jealous as fuck really that he was being all kind and caring and had gone rushing off to look after her and that none of them had heard a bloody word from him since, but if his mother was right and he wasn't still holding Rebecca's bloody hand or her head if she was puking, then where the fuck was he? She wanted badly to call him to just check that he was okay and not lying bleeding in some ditch somewhere but was afraid that either she'd come across as desperate or he wouldn't answer so that her panic would go into overdrive. She could understand now why Belinda used to ring and leave messages on her phone when she went missing for some reason and hadn't called home, usually because she was slaughtered, but her mum used to say that if she wasn't already dead, she would be when she got hold of her.

It felt like forever but was no more than another hour when the sound of his key in the lock had her up and out of the chair before she could even think about being cool and distant and mature and controlled and asking him casually where he'd been and whether everything was okay as though it was no big deal which was what she'd meant to do, what she'd been rehearsing, well, that's if he wasn't dead. It was a big deal, it was a bloody big deal, but right now all she wanted was to just hug him with sheer relief that he was home in one piece as he'd said to his mother when they'd arrived the day before.

"Everything alright?"

She was quite pleased with the casual way she managed to ask the question as she put one hand on his arm "Your Mum's been a bit worried, well, we both have" As statements went that probably qualified as the bleeding understatement of the year.

"I'm sorry, you can hate me if it helps"

"Why would I hate you?" Oh shit what had he done? "I don't know what you've done, do I?" She paused "What have you done?"

"Well, nothing apart from inviting you here for a magical Christmas and then leaving you to spend the whole day with my dad and son while I spend all day with my bloody ex-wife" He frowned "Remind me never to do a good turn for anyone ever again, I couldn't get a taxi for love or money I think they've all fucked off home early for Christmas and I didn't want to stay there but Henry kept on saying that he would give me a lift so it would have been unforgivably rude to say 'forget it I'll get the bus'. I'd forgotten that my phone's out of charge, dead as a bloody doornail, so I couldn't call you, any of you" He put his arms round her "And to top it all, all the way home in the car he kept trying to persuade me to make up a four with them for some Ball at New Year, apparently Rebecca can't find an acceptable partner"

"Is Henry her dad?" He nodded "Hasn't she got any friends she can ask? I mean she might well be a trollop, but she can't have slept with all of them, can she?" For a minute she thought that she'd misjudged it and gone too far as he stared at her, face totally expressionless until he put his head back and roared with laughter "What did you say to him anyhow?"

"I told him there was no fucking way" He looked down at her arms round him "I thought you'd be upset and angry with me, I don't seem to have seen you at all today"

"Did you? Well I am really" She smirked "Is she okay?"

"Stupid cow, what the fuck she thought she was doing drinking and then driving over here to try and make a scene I have no idea, cannot imagine, although she didn't seem drunk, but who knows?" He shrugged as he put his arm round her shoulders urging her to move down the hallway towards the kitchen "I just hope it was because it's Christmas and that it's not a regular thing with her, apart from anything else I know she's his mother but don't want Sam in the car with her if she can't be trusted" He wiped his hand over the back of his neck and tugged at his curls "Hey, I'm fucking starving do you reckon there's any food in the fridge? I mean it's obviously packed solid but am I allowed to eat any of it?"

-OG-