Read Christmas for One: No Greater Love for Free Online Page B

thoroughly exhausted by 3 p.m. the next day. She had to adapt to the local time zone the moment she arrived. The rule was to go to bed when everyone else did – Pru’s husband Christopher had taught her that .
    Securing her striped scarf around her neck and pulling the matching hat with its large bobble over her ears, she tiptoed back through the reception area. There was no sign of Elene or Salvatore. The hat sat snugly on her thick hair and, according to Milly, made her look like a pixie. She smiled at her reflection; at least she’d be a warm pixie. Reluctantly, she set out into the cold New York evening from which she had only just escaped.
    She stood on the pavement and let the chilly evening air filter into her lungs. She stared at the yellow cabs and wide cars that sped by and stood back to allow the smart ladies in belted macs, fashionable spectacles and trainers pass by. I’m in New York! Again she felt a rush of excitement. Remembering Elene’s instructions, she made her way to the best deli in the Village. It shone like a glittering beacon in the winter gloom. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled as she caught sight of the salamis and sausages hanging from hooks in the brightly lit windows. She was clearly more hungry than she’d realised. Boxes of panettone, traditional Italian Christmas bread, were lined up just inside the glass. The packaging was cleverly both vintage and festive and made her think of her childhood. A memory came to her, sharp and bittersweet.
    It was Christmastime; she couldn’t have been more than seven and was staying with her foster family in Tall Trees Avenue. It had been a long day, traipsing around the shops buying last-minute Christmas ‘bits and bobs’, as Pam had called them. They had gone into town by bus, to avoid having to look for a parking space. Megan liked sitting on the top deck, drawing pictures with her finger on the steamed-up windows. As they waited in the cold shelter for their bus home, neon lights shone on the dark, wet pavements. She watched the bright headlights prowling the streets and illuminating the raindrops. It was quite hypnotic.
    When they eventually arrived home, she and Kirsty were sent into the lounge, where a real fire blazed and a fat aunt sat on the sofa. Megan had felt a smile twitch on her lips when she saw that the woman’s husband was very, very thin. The two of them reminded her of Jack Spratt and his wife, from the nursery rhyme they’d learnt in school. She watched as the woman shrugged her wobbly arms from her coat to reveal her Sunday best. The woman tilted her head to one side and spoke to Pam through a half-closed mouth. ‘Who is she again?’ Then, ‘How long have you got her for?’ Everyone took up their places on the sofa or the floor. Conversation flew over Megan’s head and she listened while they all laughed at memories she couldn’t relate to and talked about people she had never heard of. When no one was looking, she placed her small hand against her chest and whispered, ‘Ssssshhh.’
    Pam brought in a chocolate-covered Yule log, already cut into slices, and placed it on the table. Even now, standing in front of the deli, Meg could almost smell the thick chocolate from all those years ago, which had melted slightly in the heat of the room.
    ‘Help yourselves!’ Pam urged.
    Kirsty, the fat aunt, her skinny husband and Len all shoved out their hands and grasped fat slices of the sponge, quickly cramming it into their mouths and licking any residue from their fingers. It was only when Megan crept towards the table that she realised there was nothing but crumbs left. She hadn’t meant to cry, but hot tears stung her eyes and clogged her nose nonetheless.
    ‘We forgot Megan!’ Kirsty mumbled through her last half-chewed mouthful.
    ‘Oh, Megan!’ they chorused. Their pity was genuine and that somehow made the situation much worse. She wished they weren’t being nice to her, it made her feel even sadder. How could