Short Stack - Lily Morton Page 0,47
dust,” Billy shouts. “He’s been, Daddy. He’s been.”
“That’s brilliant, baby,” Asa says in a slightly strained voice.
“Where’s Jude?” Billy asks.
“Erm…”
Stanley stops Asa’s quest for the perfect excuse by jumping on the bed and landing on my head.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter. “Ouch!”
“What on earth is Jude doing down there?” Billy asks curiously.
“Erm… erm… He was looking for the remote control,” Asa finally says.
I roll my eyes and Billy tuts. “Down there? You should really look after your things, Daddy.”
“Yes, we should,” he says faintly, and I emerge from under the duvet, positive that my cheeks are as bright as Santa’s red-trousered bottom.
“Jude,” Billy shouts. “Santa’s been. He’s been.”
“Did he eat his mince pie?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I didn’t notice because there are presents everywhere.”
I laugh, and Asa looks thoughtfully at Billy. “If I asked you to go back to bed, what are the chances that you’d go back to sleep?”
Billy considers that. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to do that,” he finally says. He throws himself on the bed. “Get up. Get up, lazybones. I’m going to wake Peggy and Amos.”
He darts out of the bedroom, and Asa groans and throws himself back on the pillows. I eye him.
“The remote control?” I say in a loud voice. “I was looking for the remote control?”
“You try improvising when your boyfriend has your cock in his mouth and your five-year-old son slams into the room to tell you that Santa Claus came.”
“I’m glad someone in this house did.” I laugh as he tries to tickle me. “No, fuck off, Asa. Ah!”
I roll off the bed, and Stanley jumps on me. “Oh my God,” I squeal, covering my face. “This place is a fucking madhouse.”
“Wait until tonight when Billy’s been on the chocolates,” he says with a wise look on his face. He taps my side gently with his foot. “Get dressed. There are presents to open.”
We descend the stairs ten minutes later dressed in pyjama bottoms and T-shirts to find Amos lighting the fire and Billy staring at labels and putting presents in messy piles. A clattering from the kitchen tells me that Peggy is making tea. God, I hope so because I’m fucking knackered. We didn’t get to bed until four this morning.
Asa bends down and starts to reorganise the presents because Billy has got everything mixed up. He kisses his son’s face and gives him parcels to put in their correct piles and Billy darts around like a hyperactive elf.
“You okay?” Asa says, shooting me a look. “You seem a bit stunned.”
“I’m flabbergasted by how shattered I am. I used to be able to go clubbing until six, shower, and then go to a modelling job. Now, I have three hours of sleep, and I’m acting as if I’ve been awake for months.”
He pauses in his gift organisation and Billy promptly drapes himself over him, hugging him tightly.
“Is that okay?” Asa says tentatively. I look at him, puzzled. “I mean, this isn’t exactly party central. Do you miss it?”
I lean down and kiss him and throw my arms around Billy and him. “I’m extremely happy,” I say firmly. “This is what I want, Asa. I told you that.”
He smiles. “Okay, just checking.”
“Well, stop.”
“Are we going to Jude’s mummy and daddy’s house today?” Billy asks.
“We’re going in a few hours, and we’ll stay overnight,” Asa reminds him. “And after dinner, we’ve got another round of present opening to do because Father Christmas delivered at their house too.”
“I love everyone,” Billy says happily, and as we laugh, he unravels himself from the hug and stoops to squeeze a present. “Yes,” he hisses to himself. “It’s hard.”
I look in bemusement at him. “Is that good, Bill?”
He nods fervently. “It means it isn’t clothes.”
Present opening is as frantic and loud as I imagined it would be. The fire roars and Christmas music plays while we all sit around in our pyjamas drinking tea and watching Billy open his presents. He’s got a lot, but he isn’t spoilt, as Asa is very insistent that he only gets gifts at Christmas and birthdays. If he wants anything in between, he has his pocket money to buy it.
I appoint myself as rubbish monitor because I well remember one of Dylan’s family chucking money on the fire once. I gather the wrapping paper, inspect it, and then throw it on the fire as Billy oohs and ahhs and Stanley wriggles under the paper chewing happily on a piece of cardboard. Then it’s our turn.
Asa gets