What about you? - 21

Chapter 21

Mason spent the rest of the evening filling the small sherry glasses of his mother and his aunt. The intention was them retiring earlier than later. Peter was looking tired; he’d been told he rarely stayed up after nine. Glancing across the room he smiled at the sight of Kate sat beside Peter reading him a book. She was so patient, so caring, and for a moment he had a snap shot of that same caring gentleness with children, babies. Shaking his head he dispelled that vision. Dangerous territory.

                “I’ll organise supper!” Kate announced standing up. Margaret was smiling at her, tapping her foot along to the Christmas tunes that still pumped out of the stereo. “Mason! I think your mother wants to dance!”

Mason glared at her in surprise, the minx; she was starting her revenge plan. Dancing? To White Christmas? With his mother? He groaned then looked to his mother, “do you want to dance?”

Margaret nodded, “that would be great, normally Peter’s the only man we dance with at Christmas. And he hates it!”

Kate laughed as she left the room leaving Mason as a lamb to the slaughter. The two older women had been drinking sherry since well before lunch and were more than tipsy. Neither was accustomed to drinking so Kate knew they’d both be glad of their beds soon.

In the kitchen she cut some large of turkey from the half devoured bird, and there was a caramelised ham to go with it, adding it to bread, cheese and homemade pate as well as an array of pickles on a large tray. Carrying it into the lounge she stopped in the doorway and grinned. There were the two couples, Mason and Peter with their respective mothers, waltzing in front of the fire, to ‘All I want for Christmas is you’, Mariah Carey belting the lyrics rather over enthusiastically.

Smiling she moved into the room, ignoring the glares from Mason over his mother’s shoulder, then setting the tray on a large side table. Buttering a piece of bread she loaded it with ham and a divine looking chutney, then perched against the arm of the sofa watching them with amusement.

                “Your turn!” Clarissa called out to Kate with a giggle, but Kate shook her head.

                “No way when I’m enjoying this!” She gestured to her food.

Margaret looked up, “did you get my egg salad? I made a huge bowl!”

When she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen Mason groaned a sigh of relief and moved towards her, spearing a rather fat pickle on a fork and tipping it into his mouth. Peter was laughing with his mother as the music changed to ‘Santa Claus is coming to town’.

                “My fave!” Kate murmured to no one in particular. She was rewarded with a chuckle from Mason who’d settled next to her, well within in her personal space. Awareness, as usual when he was in the vicinity, rippled through her body.

He hummed along to the song and she smiled at his apparent lack of musicality, but it was a completely different sensation when he leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ears to sing, “he knows when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!”

The huskiness, as well as the suggestion that she was anything but good had mixed effects on her, part of her was weak at the knees, warmth swirling around her pelvis at the tone, the promise, the other half of her was fighting the guilt that the words had created. It was so wrong to become embroiled with him under this roof. What would Clarissa and Margaret say?

Mason had sensed her flinch and groaned, it was like walking on eggshells, there were more wrong things to say than right. Reaching out he ensnared her hand and squeezed it, trying to offer her some camaraderie, but knew that could have an equally damning effect. Glancing up he saw his mother at the door paused and observing him with a bizarre look on her face. It seemed she had an opinion on his closeness to Kate; that was looking like a conversation he didn’t want to have. More groaning. Why were women so bloody complicated?  

Kate snatched her hand away and stood up, refilling everyone’s glass. Peter and Clarissa stopped dancing, and they all toasted a great Christmas. Peter then decided he wanted to go to bed. Clarissa asked Mason if he’d help her carry some of the bags upstairs, so it left her and Margaret alone.

Kate sipped her wine staring in to the dancing flames of the fire, sighing she was about to turn for the sofa when Margaret spoke, and it shocked Kate that she was so close.

                “He’s a good man!”

Kate glanced around and shrugged her shoulders, “Peter?”

Margaret laughed, “No. Mason! He’s a good man, despite everything.”

Now Kate truly was puzzled, “what do you mean?”

                “I’m not stupid, you turn up at the hospital days after Mason has a ‘sick friend’ and the same time Clarissa tells me you’re not well. One and one and one is three love.”

Kate blushed to the roots of her hair, she’d not for one second thought that either of the women was aware of the history between her and Mason, now it seemed that everything was far more apparent. “I didn’t mean that,” she floundered, “you said ‘despite everything’? The question was ridiculous now, but Kate was still aware that there was a lot she didn’t know about Mason.

Margaret shrugged, “Mason is Mason. He has had his fair share of trouble in the past, but he’s a good man.”

                “Singing my praises again Ma?”

Both women spun around guilt etched across both their faces. Margaret stuttered a muted response, “just pleased your both...friends.”

Mason smiled, “that we are mother, and no more, you hear?”

Kate was relieved, it was all too soon for anything to become broadcast, she was worried enough as it was. Sighing she smiled at the older woman, and Margaret smiled back.

                “I think I’ve had far too much sherry both, I’m going to head to bed. You all up for an early start? Clarissa wants to see the hunt at Dyncastle.”

Mason kissed his mother’s cheek, “I don’t know Mum, see how I feel in the morning. Goodnight!”

The smile as she looked between them was very knowing then she disappeared. Mason found his glass and slid down onto the sofa.  From the low point he could watch Kate, see the mixed emotions cross her face. She was such a bloody complex creature when she let herself be.

                “Kate, come and sit down.”

It wasn’t until his words penetrated her cocoon that she realised she was pacing the room. Looking up at him, meeting his eyes finally, she saw sympathy there, understanding.

                “It’s all such a mess Mason, how did my life become this?”

He leaned back stretching his arms along the back of the sofa, “because you worry about everyone else, your family, your friends, Peter. You need to start thinking about you too.” It was the first time they’d been openly frank with each other. “I’m not saying me, I’m not hinting at that. You just need to stop the World and get off for a minute, stop all this pleasing. I’ve watched you today, being everything to everyone...and I know you’d rather be with family and friends today, so you’re probably carrying that as a millstone around your neck. All I want is the promise that you’ll start putting yourself first instead of splitting yourself in three. New Year, new resolution?”

His kindness after so many ups and downs was the undoing of her, since she’d first set eyes on Mason in the garden of the hotel where her brother had his wedding, she’d bounced between anger and despair, shouting and tears, and now as she looked at him, she wanted to stop all that. Curl up against him and sleep. She’d had enough. With a sigh she sat next to him.

                “I’ve had enough too.”

Mason lifted his head and stared at her in surprise, “really? I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

She nodded, “I seem to have spent the last few years trying to keep everyone happy, and I end up pleasing no one, least of all myself. No, next year is going to see changes.” Turning to Mason she sighed, “I told Clarissa I can’t do this anymore, I’ve looked into respite, people to help us out with him...”

He held a hand up to her lips to stop her, “I know the lengths you’ve gone to. Clarissa told me, I wish I knew why you felt so obligated, but I suppose I should be impressed with your devotion and loyalty.”

She flinched at the harshness of the words, “really? Is that what you think?”

Mason shrugged, “I don’t know anymore, I just know that this afternoon the Kate who teased me out in the hallway is the Kate I like to see, the Kate here, amongst the Wightman’s is a painful thing to watch.”

Kate closed her eyes, “you make me angry, competitive...”

Again he silenced her, “you don’t get it Kate, out there,” he pointed his thumb towards the hallway, “that is the REAL you. Witty, funny, sexy...that’s what I want more of. You need to be true to yourself. I just worry that you’re scared of who you might find out you are!”

She stood and started to pace again, was there truth in his words? She DID spend so long being everything to everyone else, she’d given so much to the Wightman’s, then spent the rest of her time making up for her absences to her work, family, friends. When had she last made a decision based purely on selfish motives? Quite a few times since Mason, but prior to that? She couldn’t begin to imagine. Kate stopped in front of the fire and found herself again staring into the flames. There was something hypnotic about the flames licking around the chunks of wood, for a moment she could switch off, drift away.

Two arms encircled her, meeting and resting over her stomach, a chin rested on her shoulder, and a voice spoke close to her ear, “I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but it infuriates me, how everyone puts on you so easily.” Mason’s arms were a strong and warm protective force around her, and she leaned back into him letting him take her weight, and with it some of the load from her shoulders.

                “I want to take you away from it all Kate,” his lips murmured against her hair, and instantly all thoughts of her pitiful life and the disasters of the day were long gone.

She chuckled, and his arms tightened around her, “is that the flip of the personality back to playful kitten?”

Feeling her tense he pulled her back against her, his hands rising to her shoulders and starting to massage them. When she finally succumbed, surrendered to him, he guided her back to the sofa, and it wasn’t until they were sat with their toes warming in the light of the open fire, that he pulled Kate’s face around to meet his.

Before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers. It was all so familiar, already she knew exactly what he wanted, and craved it like a starving man. Within seconds of contact between their lips, she was kissing him back with the same fury he was attacking her with. There were a few moments when their kiss was innocent, calm, but then Mason reached for her, pulled her astride his lap. Her legs wrapped around him like a limpet, and there was nothing that could separate them.

Nothing that was except a door closing somewhere in the house. They flew apart like guilty teenagers. Mason shook his head, “look at us! I’m thirty four! Not fifteen.”

Taking her hand he led her from the room, “I’ll lock up the house, you check the kitchen. Meet you in my bedroom?”

She shook her head, “my room’s better, it’s away from everyone so Peter doesn’t come wandering. It’s the safest option!”

Mason nodded pleased at the excitement in her eyes, “hope this revenge you mentioned isn’t TOO painful!”

He laughed as her throaty chuckle followed her out to the kitchen; his body was anything but laughing, how quickly can you lock up a house?