Jack let himself into his tiny two-up, two-down terrace house, on the corner of Maple Drive, and realised, not for the first time, how empty it was.
Maybe it was just after spending time in Holly’s exceptionally festive house, or with Kathleen and all her souvenirs from her travels, but tonight it felt worse than ever. He didn’t let himself consider the fact that it might just be that he was missing Claude.
Dropping his coat onto the back of the sofa, he headed for the kitchen and a rarely used cupboard, where he remembered stashing a bag of Christmas decorations he’d bought from the supermarket on a whim a few weeks ago, then never got around to putting up. Perhaps a bit of festive cheer might perk the place up a bit.
Twenty minutes later, he had a miniature fake tree on his side table in the lounge, decorated with tiny bulbs of different colours, a garland of plastic greenery hanging over the bannister, and a wreath made of brightly coloured baubles to welcome him home every time he opened his front door. It might not be a patch on Holly’s homemade Christmas decorations, but it was enough for him.
For now, anyway.
One day, he wanted all that – the huge, real tree in the front room with a stack of presents under it for all the occupants of the house, the friends stopping by unannounced for mince pies and mulled wine, even the light-up Santa on the roof. But despite the day’s adventures, he still couldn’t see himself finding that in Maple Drive.
He’d thought, just for a moment, that there might be a spark of a chance between him and Holly. She was beautiful, funny, incredibly talented and, more than any of that, he’d felt a connection to her. A flash that showed him there was something in their souls that matched. It wasn’t just that she was lost and alone, the same as him, although he supposed that was part of it. But more than that, he’d looked into her eyes and felt, for the first time since he’d left the army, that here was someone who could matter to him. Who he could matter to.
And then she’d pulled away, and that moment had been over.
Well, he supposed he couldn’t blame her. She was clearly still hung up on her ex, whatever she said. She might not want the guy himself any more – and she’d be crazy if she did, from what Jack had heard – but the idea of it. She was supposed to be getting married tomorrow, supposed to be starting a whole new life. It had to be hard to make the sudden adjustment to another possibility.
Raiding the fridge for a beer, Jack settled down on his sofa and pulled out his laptop. He couldn’t spend all night obsessing about the pretty blonde at number 12 – he had an appointment to keep.
The video call ringtone was annoying as hell, but fortunately Tom didn’t let it ring too long.
‘Jack, buddy! Merry Christmas Eve, Eve!’ Tom’s voice boomed out across the thousands of miles between them, and Jack felt something in his shoulders relax at the sound of it. Maybe the reason he hadn’t found a new home, new people, was that he knew he couldn’t beat the one he’d left behind.
He didn’t regret leaving the army. But he did regret leaving his best friend, his family, behind when he resigned.
‘How’s it going over there?’ Jack asked, before Tom could start in with his usual questions about how Jack was adjusting to civilian life. He didn’t want to talk about himself today – especially since Tom’s questions were usually about whether or not Jack had a girlfriend yet. He wanted to pretend he was back there, in the middle of it all, with Tom and the others.
‘Oh, you know,’ Tom said, evasively. ‘Same old, same old.’
‘You mean you can’t talk about it,’ Jack guessed.
‘Definitely not over this connection, no.’ Jack knew it wasn’t the connection that was the problem. It was his non-military status.
That stung. Once, Jack would have known everything Tom did, the minute he knew it. Once, that would have been his life, his adventure, too. But now he was on the outside, looking in, unable to be part of the life Tom led.
‘What about the boys, then? Any news?’ News, in this case, meant gossip. Tom was worse than Mrs Templeton for gossiping about the guys they served with.
But Tom’s face turned sober. ‘We lost Graham,’ he said, eyes heavy. ‘I’m sorry, mate.’
Graham. Young, excitable, ready to live life to the fullest Graham.
‘That … God. That sucks.’ There were stronger words, deeper words, and Jack knew he’d use all of them later, alone. But for now, all he could do was rely on the fact that Tom knew him well enough to know how badly that news hurt.
‘Yeah. It’s … quieter without him.’
‘It would be,’ Jack said, a half joke, an almost smile. Just like Graham would have wanted. ‘Can you give me details?’
‘Some,’ Tom said. Jack listened as Tom detailed Graham’s last days, last minutes, and took it in. Another loss, another story to retell among friends, when they came home.
And he felt further away than ever.
‘But enough about us,’ Tom said, in the end, after a lengthy pause where they just stared at their respective screens and remembered. ‘Seriously, what’s been going on there? How’s Operation Find A Family going?’
There were times when Jack really regretted getting drunk and telling Tom all about his hopes for civilian life. But at least, he supposed, it meant he had someone to keep him on track, or call him out when the steps he was taking weren’t getting him closer to his dreams.
‘I put in a request for that transfer we talked about,’ Jack said. ‘My boss told me to think it over some more.’
‘What’s there to think about? If the place you are doesn’t have what you’re looking for, it’s time to move on.’ Tom sounded so definite, so certain, that Jack couldn’t help but agree with him. ‘Life’s too short to waste time somewhere that isn’t where you’re meant to be. Isn’t that what you told me when you left?’
‘Yeah, I did.’
‘And you were right,’ Tom said. ‘Just look at Graham.’
‘Yeah.’ Jack’s doubt must have sounded in his voice, because Tom sighed.
‘Okay, what’s changed?’ he asked. ‘Because last time we talked, you were on your way out of there. What’s making you think twice? Your boss?’
‘Maybe a little. But mostly …’ What was it, exactly, that had him thinking about changing his mind? Was it Holly, with her sparkly cat lead, craft fixation and love of Christmas? Or was it Kathleen, so alone after all her moving around? Or was it everything that had happened that day, all rolled into one?
When he thought about his day, Jack remembered not feeling so lonely, for the first time in months. Remembered feeling, even just for a moment, like he belonged. He closed his eyes for a second and pictured what it was that had given him that feeling, and to his surprise he saw a black nose on a white muzzle, covered in gingerbread crumbs, under oversized bat ears and black patched eyes.
Claude. He was what had started it all. And that was why he had to find him, whatever else happened on Maple Drive this Christmas. He had to find Claude and make sure he was okay.
Jack opened his eyes and grinned at his friend over the video call. ‘Okay, so this is going to sound weird. But it started with this dog doing a belly flop through a cat flap …’
Daisy stepped out through the back door, leaving it to creak closed behind her, and let out a long sigh. Resting against the outside wall, she tipped her head against the cold stone and tried to calm her racing mind.
Then she realised she wasn’t alone.
‘Hello?’ she called, her muscles tensing as she tried to make out the edges of the form in the shadows. ‘Um, bonjour? Or, bonne nuit, I suppose?’
A familiar, world-weary sigh came from the shadows, and Bella held up her phone to illuminate her face. ‘It’s me, Mum.’
‘Of course it is.’ Daisy pressed a hand to her chest in the hope it might calm her racing heart. ‘I knew that. I was just … practising my French.’
She couldn’t see Bella roll her eyes in the darkness, but she could feel it, all the same.
‘What are you doing out here?’ Daisy asked, stepping closer. Bella had found an old picnic table, and was sat on the bench, her knees against her chest, her back resting against a wall. ‘I thought you’d gone to bed.’
‘No signal in there.’ Bella tapped the screen of her smart-phone again. ‘I thought I’d try out here.’
‘Any better?’ Daisy tried not to dwell on the roaming charges. Out here, in the darkness, in a strange country … maybe this was one of those perfect bonding moments. A mother and daughter moment in time where they could confess all their secrets to each other.
Or, at the least, maybe Bella would finally tell her why she was so bloody grumpy about spending Christmas in France.
‘A little,’ Bella said. ‘I managed to pick up a message from Jessica.’
‘Jessica?’ Daisy had to think for a moment. ‘Oh! At number 3! Did she have any news on Claude?’
Bella nodded. ‘She’s putting up Find Claude posters tomorrow. Oh, and apparently the postman has been going door to door searching everyone’s gardens for him. He said to tell us that that he was fine when he last spotted him, and that he will find him.’
‘The postman?’ Daisy frowned. Why on earth did the postman care?
‘Apparently,’ Bella said, with a shrug.
‘Is that all?’ Apart from the very nice bottle of French something or other she would have to buy the postman on the ferry. It was the least she could do.
‘Yeah.’
‘But you’re still out here because …?’ Daisy let it dangle there, waiting for Bella to fill in the blanks.