Not Just for Christmas Ch. 01-04

"Good. Tomorrow perhaps the three of us can sit down and talk about things. It's been too busy yesterday and today. I have some ideas about how we might help you to feel better about staying here."

"I'd like that."

They both stood and looked at each other, each with a half smile on their lips.

"Well then," he stuttered. "Good night."

"Good night Mike. And thanks."

The door shut as he turned away.

Catherine was at the head of the stairs. "Very good, Mike."

Though Mike felt good about it, he scowled at her and she laughed. He could never get the better of her.

-

The next morning, Boxing Day, Mike overslept. This was usual during holidays when he was on his own. He was something of a workaholic and lived on adrenaline, but as soon as the pressure was off, he crashed.

He awoke to the sound of someone knocking at his door and he remembered he had a full house. He checked he was decent and shouted, "Come in!"

Claire entered and brought him a mug of tea.

"Good morning," she smiled. "Catherine said it was time you got up. The children, apart from Shania who's still fast asleep, have been up for hours. I've only just woken up myself; Catherine's been entertaining them. She's very good. I can't remember when I've been so well looked after."

"Enjoy it," he grinned. "You deserve it. It's Christmas and you should revel in the holiday spirit."

"Thank you so much for-"

"Claire!" he tried to look stern but failed, breaking into another grin. "Enough! Get used to it. This is going to be normal from now on; I'm determined to spoil you. Now do as you're told, enjoy it!"

Her crooked smile made her look so beautiful, even though her face was still badly bruised, and part of her lip still swollen: it was in her eyes. Suddenly she swooped on him and kissed his forehead. She stood upright, hands on hips, eyes sparkling. "I'll thank you as often as I feel like it. Get used to it, Mike."

"You can thank me like that as often as you like, but I prefer it on my lips!" he flirted.

She coloured and he wondered if he'd gone too far, but then a look of devilment crossed her face and she once again leaned in and this time he got a gentle kiss on the lips, not passionate but warmly affectionate.

"There," she said. "Is that better?"

"Much! Again?"

"Don't be greedy!" and she flounced out of the room. It was so good to see her so happy and confident after the previous two days. Her character, evidently long suppressed, was emerging again and he liked it.

Shania had been roused and arrived downstairs ready for breakfast.

The younger children had eaten with Catherine long since, so Claire, Shania and Mike ate together. Catherine had cooked bacon, eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms with toast to follow, and so they felt well fed when they rose from the table.

The day was a fine one, though cold, and there had been a hard frost overnight.

"I know we said we three would sit down and talk, but I think on consideration it would be better if I took the children for a walk to the park," suggested Catherine. "They could do with some exercise and it would leave you in peace."

Mike wondered if Shania would want to go with them but she seemed quite keen.

"I think she wants to chat with me," said Catherine in an aside.

So it was that Claire and Mike were left alone to talk. Claire made some coffee and he noted she already knew her way round the kitchen. She brought a tray with coffee, milk, sugar and some chocolate biscuits, though he still felt full from breakfast. They sat in the living room with their coffee; Mike was in 'his' armchair and she on the sofa.

"You start," said Claire, a worried frown on her face.

"Don't look so worried Claire. I'm not going to try to make you do anything. Let's start by putting your mind at rest. This house is now your house; your home. You stay here for as long as you want. Do you have any problem with that?"

"Well..." she stopped, uncertain as to how to proceed.

"Well?" he echoed.

She made up her mind.

"Catherine was telling me about your recent love life. You pick up women for one-night stands. I don't think that's a good atmosphere for my children to grow up in." She looked anxiously to see his reaction.

"Easily fixed," he replied. "I don't bring any women here while you live here. If I do meet a woman I'll take her to a hotel."

"Why do it at all?" she asked.

Mike thought for a while and she waited patiently for him to answer.

"The obvious thing is a need for sexual release. I know it's possible to masturbate but it's more fun with a partner, especially if she's pretty and athletic." He grinned, but she didn't.

"Look," he said. "I'm a relatively young male and I want to have sex. My attempt at total commitment to one woman didn't exactly work out, and I was absolutely faithful while we dated and after we married. In fact I didn't go with anyone else until after the divorce was started.

"And another thing. Life here has been pretty lonely and a happy willing partner over a weekend relieved the loneliness, so it wasn't just sex, but now you and the children are here I won't be lonely any more. Who knows? I may be able to do without the women.

"Claire, I promise you, while you are here no other woman will be invited to this house."

She did not look happy.

"Well?" he asked. "What's the problem?"

She seemed to shake herself.

"No problem. You have your own life to lead I suppose."

"So let's get on."

Mike felt rebuked but covered it by becoming business-like. "From what I've seen, you don't feel happy living here and relying on my 'charity'.

She nodded her head in agreement.

"So you need to find a job so you can pay your way, get the children things."

She nodded but looked uncertain.

"OK. What work are you qualified for?" he asked.

"Pardon?"

"What can you do? How did you earn your money before you married?"

She looked embarrassed and, he thought, ashamed.

"I got pregnant when I was in final year sixth form and both families pressured Gary and me to get married. Gary was a personal assistant to a director of some company or other and even then he was making quite a bit. So I stayed at home and we brought up Shania together. I think we were happy then."

"You're only twenty nine now?" he asked.

She nodded, "Thirty."

"When Shania went to school," she continued, "I got careless with my pills and got pregnant again, and then a third time. I think I secretly wanted more children.

"That was when Gary changed. I was so wrapped up in the children: three is a lot without help and he isn't the sort of man who helps. I think I neglected him. He stayed out with friends more and more, got drunk and then the hitting started.

"I don't think he loves me any more; I think he resents me for tying him down. I'm pretty sure he's had other women; he's not made love to me for a long time. Oh don't get me wrong, he's had me often enough, but there's no love in it; it's usually when he's drunk.

"He's very jealous. He's never let me have access to money. I have an account that he puts housekeeping money into, and it has a debit card to pay with. I think he thinks it'll keep me at home and away from other men. So I've never had a job, I'm fit for nothing."

A tear made its way down her face.

"OK." Mike said, noting she was getting upset. "Can you stand more questions?"

She nodded.

"Do you still love Gary?"

Silence.

"Do you know if you do or not?"

She made up her mind; he could see it in the set of her face.

"No. I don't love him. I did even when he was hitting me but not for a while now. I lost all my feelings for him when he started hitting the children. Now Shania tells me he kicked and punched her the night we left. I fear him Mike; I don't like him one bit. I couldn't escape before, I had nowhere to go."

Mike's anger rose again but he suppressed it. There would be time for that.

"Would you ever go back to him?" was his next question. "I mean if you could find some way of living with him?"

She shook her head violently. "No never! Not after that violence toward Shania. He could have killed her."

"OK," he said. "I know a job you are well qualified to do."

She looked up at him for the first time. She'd been staring at the floor or other parts of the room, never at him. "I don't think-" she began.

"You've been a housewife for fourteen years haven't you?"

"Well, yes."

"So this is what I suggest. You run this house for me. Can you drive?"

She shook her head.

"We get you a provisional licence. You get driving lessons. You also enrol at college and get the 'A' levels you were studying for, when you were at school. To pay for these you work for me. Work, Claire, you get my meaning? Just work." He had seen the unasked question arise.

"You'll get yourself a bank account of your own and I'll pay your salary into it monthly. I'll sort out your National Insurance contributions at work. I advise you to get a savings account as well. You'll also have a shared credit card account with me for housekeeping. Until you can afford to get things for yourself and the children out of your salary - clothes, shoes, feminine hygiene things - you should use the shared account.

"I'm offering you a job with good prospects and training. Will you take that job?"

"Yes, please," she said. There was no hesitation but a smile as wide as it could be with the bruising.

"I'm offering you a place in this house for as long as it takes. Will you stay here?"

"Yes, please," and she smiled for the second time since they'd started talking. Her face lit up, her eyes sparkling. Even with the dreadful bruising, he could see she was really very beautiful.

"If you're living here for what I believe and hope will be an extended period, do you have any plans for the children?"

"The children will need to change schools," she said. She seemed altogether more at ease. "This house is a long way from where we were living, and I don't want them where he can get at them."

"Shall we contact the police, or social services?"

"No!"

"Claire!" he was trying to be patient. "You now have a settled job, you have a place to live, but you are a battered wife. They will not take your children. They will know what to do for the best. If necessary I will fund you to get a restraining order on your husband. You are safe!"

"I know. It's just taking some getting used to," she smiled again, "but are you sure you can stand having a family with three children about the place? It won't always be this peaceful you know; they can be a handful and you can't escape."

He had not thought that through. So there was a silence as he did some thinking. Claire began to look anxious.

"OK, Claire," he said. "First, let's get some principles set down. You and the family are not to pussy-foot around me. You live a normal family life. I will not interfere with how you bring them up; it is not my place. If things get noisy I've got my study and my suite upstairs and both are reasonably soundproof. You can tell the children that the study is out of bounds."

A thought occurred to him.

"The children are playing on my computer at the moment. That can't continue. That machine is one I need for my work, so I'll get a laptop and you can decide where you put it and how you use it."

"Mike, you can't keep buying us things. It's not right. You've done enough."

"No Claire. Shania will need one for her school work. As I said, you decide how it's used. It remains mine until you can buy another or buy that one off me. Please try to understand, none of this expenditure makes any impact on my resources; it's chicken feed. I want you and the children set up in the best possible way. They deserve the best start that you can give them and as you get your qualifications you can pay me back if you think you need to."

She sighed and shrugged.

"OK," she said. Then she jumped up and pushed him back into the chair. Taking his head in her hands she gave him a long and intensive kiss.

"That's to say thank you," she said as she regained her balance and stood upright. She looked flushed but satisfied. "It's only beginning to sink in how lucky we've been to have found you. I know I can trust you."

After that kiss and his genital reaction to it he wondered if she really could trust him, but he kept that to himself. After all she was still married and they hardly knew each other. It struck him that his one-night stands never knew him and neither did he know them, but this woman was different. She had been abused and she was special; he just knew it.

"I don't mean I won't be here for you if you need my help, but I won't interfere. Understand?"

She nodded, and their conversation was over because the children burst in.

However, that evening Mike arrived in the living room to hear Catherine and Claire talking. Catherine was trying to get Claire to go to the police. Claire was frightened and adamant.

"One thing we do need to do even if you don't go to the police," Mike interrupted. They looked inquiringly at him.

"We get photos of your bruises in case we need them. I have a digital and a film camera. Would you let Catherine take pictures of your injuries, all of them?"

Claire looked surprised, thought about it and saw the wisdom of the suggestion.

"OK," she said. "They're mostly to my face but there are a few others to my body."

They got up and he got the cameras for Catherine. Then they disappeared into Catherine's room, emerging later with smiles on their faces.

"All done," Catherine said, and showed him the photos. In addition to the facial photos, there were some of her ribs and hips. She had been thoroughly beaten. He resolved the man would not go unpunished.

When they returned Mike made another suggestion. "Same with Shania?" he asked.

Claire looked uncertain, but then nodded. "If she agrees," she said. Shania did.

-

Originally England celebrated two days' holiday at Christmas: the day itself and the next day called Boxing Day. More recently some companies realised that because the two days were seldom far from a weekend, it was easier to give people the whole week off, and even return as late as the second of January. The exceptions were the shops and the banks.

So the next day, Friday, Catherine stayed an extra day and babysat while Claire and Mike sorted out accounts at the banks. The post-Christmas sales were on and he persuaded her to get some more basic clothes for herself and for the children. She was a little apprehensive about her appearance because she was still bruised. Three hours later, laden with bags they returned to the car and he drove back to the house.

There was mayhem when they arrived, the children helping their mother with the bags and parcels. Then the female contingent disappeared upstairs with them, while Ryan played with his toys in the living room. Mike also remained downstairs with Catherine, listening to the running footsteps and squeals of delight. It seems that even at a young age, the female of the species can take an inordinate delight in new clothes. Catherine smiled as Mike said as much.

"Women are programmed to be pretty," she said patiently. "Men are visual creatures and we have to attract our mates. Training for this cannot start too early."

Mike laughed and made some tea.

He managed to get on line while Shania was upstairs and found he could book a pantomime for the family for a matinee the next day, Saturday.

Catherine took her leave on Saturday morning amid hugs and kisses from Claire and the children. She smiled at Mike and the two of them walked to his second car, which she would use until she returned to the States in January.

"Why not bring them to Dad's for Hogmanay?" she suggested. "It would be a break for them. Mam and Dad will love Claire."

"Good idea!" he said. "Can you prepare the folk for the invasion? Let me know if it's on?"

"OK." Then she probed: "What are your feelings for Claire? Come on, Mike, level with me."

His sister had to be obeyed; he'd always felt like a little boy with her.

"I'm very attracted to her but I can't see it going anywhere. I can't make a move on her in the state she's in."

"You could do a lot worse. The children love you and Claire is falling in love with you, though she'll be wary of committing herself after her husband's treatment of her. You did the right thing taking pity on them. Are you keeping them?"

"As long as they want or need to stay, yes, but Cath, she's been abused and I've rescued her. She feels an obligation to me and that's no basis for a relationship between equals. Added to that I've just become her employer. No. There's no future in it. She's been abused, she needs someone to do the right thing by her. I think I can do that."

"Good, brother," she said, hugging him. "You're doing so well. Soon I think you'll know how well. Bye!"

With that she left.

That afternoon, the children loved the pantomime, shouting 'He's behind you!' and 'Oh no it isn't!' at the right places and singing along with the songs.

"That was wonderful," mumbled Claire on the way home. "We've never all been to the theatre before. Fantastic!"

"Good." Mike said, and felt warm inside. Again. It was getting to be a habit.

As it happened, that was the last completely worry-free day for a long time.

Chapter Three

Mike had tried, and as it turned out so had Catherine, to get Claire to go to the police and social services while her bruises were still visible, but she adamantly refused. She was just too frightened that her children would be taken away from her. It worried Mike.

That night, after the pantomime and after the children had gone to bed. He started in on her again.

"At least let me take you to my solicitor and get you to swear an affidavit," he begged.

"What for?" she said suspiciously.

"In case your husband cuts up rough about you leaving him."

"No police?" she persisted.

"No police. No social services."

"Well..." she said and he hoped she was weakening.

"And Shania as well."

"No!" Once more she bridled.

"Won't you at least ask her?"

"Have you been talking to her?" Once again the suspicion. He was getting tired of it.

"Claire," he said rather sharply. "I keep my word. The children are yours. Your older daughter has, like you, been physically abused. I'm suggesting she swears an affidavit so that you have more ammunition if your husband tries to take the children or to have unsupervised visiting rights."

"Will he?" she looked surprised.

"He might, so doesn't it pay to have some evidence in case the worst happens?"

She thought for a while.

"OK," she said.

"And Shania?"

"If she wants to."

Shania did want to. So on the Monday Mike phoned Victor Rushworth, his lawyer. Victor was a friend and handled all Mike's legal work for the company so he was willing to fit them in that morning.

He saw Claire's and Shania's bruises and also saw the photos Catherine had taken, then he signed a statement and his secretary countersigned that they'd seen the injuries that day. Then they took the two through their stories and he notarised them. Claire got a copy of everything and the originals were kept in Victor's safe. Mike had put the digital photos on a CD, and so Victor kept a copy and the film. Victor's secretary did a fine job of entertaining the two younger children.

Mike needed to go to the office to check on the running of the programmes, so he dropped the family off at the house and drove back to town. He bought two child car seats and had them fitted by his garage which, like the shops, was open for business, while he worked at the office. Mike was one of their best customers. All was well with the programmes that were running, and he returned to the house to find uproar.