chapter 4 - part 1

Christmas morning in the Martin household had been done pretty much the same way for close to ten years, and this year would be no different. Despite Ben's recent habit of sleeping late everyday, he was up first thing in the morning and bursting with just as much energy and excitement as he had when he was truly a child. Just like every year.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! It's Chriiiiistmaaaas!” Ben squealed as he shoved Chloe repeatedly, a hand on each shoulder pushing her down into into the mattress and then letting go over and over again, making her whole body bounce up and down as she was forced into consciousness.

“OK! Ben! Stop!” Chloe's tone was irritated and groggy at the same time. Ben stepped back quickly and picked up his 'stocking', which was actually a pillow case full of little gifts and treats, tied shut with a proper Christmas stocking. Chloe's own bag of treats was sitting on the bottom of her bed, where her brother had thrown it when he came in the room. When Chloe was a child, her mother would sneak into her bedroom after she'd fallen asleep and leave the stocking on her bed to be discovered in the morning. However, Chloe had been the last one to bed again last night, and had noticed the stocking already safely tucked into a corner before she got into bed.

“Come on, let's gooooo! It's Christmas Day!” Ben was the one bouncing now. As annoying as she found her little brother, Chloe was willing to look past it today of all days – she was almost jealous of his apparent ability to revert to childhood, at least for the duration of Christmas Day anyway.

“I'm coming” Chloe placated as she lifted off the duvet and got out of bed, wearing the pyjamas she had picked out the day before for this very reason. As Chloe stood up and picked up her stocking, Ben raced out of the room, ran through the hallway, and threw open their parents' bedroom door. He was jumping up to crouch on the end of the bed as Chloe walked in to the room, smiling at her parents who were already awake and sat up in bed.

“Merry Christmas!” Ben called out excitedly, and Chloe echoed him.

“Merry Christmas you two” their mother replied, beaming the whole time. Chloe climbed up and knelt on the end of the bed too, on her mother's side. She knew she was far, far, too old for this now but she didn't really care. “What's Santa brought you then?”

“Mum...” Ben grumbled as Chloe laughed, both of them unpicking the knotted stockings that held their pillowcases closed. Chloe started pulling the little gifts out one by one while Ben just upended his pillowcase, spilling the contents over the covers, and giving Chloe a pretty big clue about what to expect in her stocking. The real gifts were saved for later, these were just random little gestures and clutter, a cracker, some hair clips, a little plastic horse that came from an old family in-joke, a bottle of cheap but nice perfume, a phone case, some fluffy socks. There were also treats though, and Chloe was more interested in those than ever before. A bag of chocolate coins, a chocolate orange, and a chocolate Santa. Not bad. Enough to last a couple of nights probably – even though last year it would have stretched until New Year at least.

Chloe reacted to the gifts with smiles, laughs, and even a sarcastic sigh or two as her brother just tore open any packaging he seemed to be able to lay his hands on. She thanked her mother, offering her one end of the cracker. They pulled it with a feeble 'POP', Chloe coming away as the victor in possession of the largest piece. She pulled the contents out of the remains of the cracker, discarding the miniature whistle and pulling the cheap paper hat on to her head.

“What does Santa have if he gets stuck in a chimney?” Chloe read off the little joke slip.

“I don't know, what does Santa get when he's stuck in a chimney?” her father replied sardonically.

“Clause-trophobic.”
< br> “Oh my god that's so bad” Ben laughed.

“You're laughing though” their father said. Ben offered his cracker in response and they pulled it together – this time their father won the pull but handed the winning side straight to his son, who proceeded to read out an equally terrible joke. The family stayed there for a while, each of them delighting in the warm and homely ambience of a quiet Christmas morning surrounded by loved ones. Eventually the reverie was broken with the suggestion of breakfast.

“Yes, let's have some food and some Buck's Fizz shall we?” Chloe's mother said eagerly. For some reason Christmas Day in the Martin house meant it was suddenly acceptable to drink alcohol at breakfast, a tradition that Chloe and her mother were equally keen on. “You two go and put the kettle on while we get up please.”

Chloe gathered up her stocking fillers and put them back in the pillowcase to take back to her bedroom. She had to make sure the chocolate was safe in her own room for her private consumption – there was no way it was going downstairs to be shared! She tucked the pillowcase away in the corner of her wardrobe, just to be extra safe, before putting on a dressing gown over her pyjamas, stepping into her slippers, and heading downstairs.

Ben was already in the kitchen, leaning out of the back door and watching Max run around the frosty garden yapping at nothing.

“Oh, Ben, shut the door! You're letting all the cold air in!” Chloe shivered.

“Whatever, you've got padding” Ben teased nastily and stuck his tongue out, but he did close the door. Chloe pretended to ignore the comment but as Ben strolled past her to the fridge she slapped him round the back of the head, and not gently, but Ben just laughed and darted out of the kitchen to the lounge. It's not like Chloe was actually offended anyway. He'd ignored their mother's request to put the kettle on but Chloe wasn't surprised. She filled the kettle and put it onto boil as she heard the TV turn on in the lounge. She prepared three mugs quickly so she could add her two sugars before her parents came down. Even that furtive little gesture gave Chloe a quick thrill, and as the kettle boiled she started daydreaming about how much she would overeat today, absent-mindedly twirling some of her hair between her fingers and against her still-visible collarbone.

This was the one day of the year when everyone truly had Carte Blanche to pig out to their heart's content, but not many hearts desired to pig out in the way that Chloe's did. Breakfast was the same every year – a selection of plain and chocolate croissants with Buck's Fizz (an orange juice and champagne cocktail, though in this case it would be prosecco). Chloe's mother always bought and prepared too much for every meal at Christmas, but this year Chloe was going to take full advantage – last year she only had two croissants and thought that was a lot, but she planned to eat at least double that today if she could get away with it. The main event was of course Christmas Dinner, an effort that would take hours to prepare. A massive Turkey that would soon be going in the oven, roast potatoes so crispy they may as well have been deep fried, cauliflower cheese, honey-glazed roast parsnips, pigs in blankets, Yorkshire puddings, Brussels sprouts with bacon bits, carrots, green beans, and lashings of gravy. Chloe's mother was a master of the Christmas Dinner, and it would be a genuine feast – Chloe was hungry and excited just thinking about it. There would usually be a choice of puddings too, the traditional Christmas pud that no one really liked, and then something actually tasty. Chloe planned to have both, the deviant thrill of eating two desserts outweighing her disdain for Christmas pudding. The rest of the day was usually consisted of grazing on chocolate, snacks, and party food, and maybe a turkey sandwich before bed for anyone still peckish.

The click of the kettle coming to boil snapped her out of her daydream, and she realised she'd just been staring at a random point on the worktop for the past few minutes. She loved that she had spoiled herself so much over the past few months that she could now get so caught up in her own head even just thinking about eating lots of fattening food, never mind the affect it had on her stomach, which was now growling audibly.

She poured the boiling water into the mugs and gave them all a stir. She found herself staring again, this time at the rhythmic spin of the teabag in her mug. She was thinking about adding a third sugar to her tea while she was still alone in the kitchen. The idea of even a measly fifteen or so extra calories was enough to make her heart beat faster, to feel a rush go right through her, just because it was so unnecessary, so greedy. On the other hand, as much she enjoyed giving in to all her desires, she was worried that it might actually make her tea too sweet to enjoy, and she really loved her tea, especially her first of the day. But then it was Christmas, the day of days to spoil yourself and push the boat out. And really, who was she kidding worrying that she'd find it too sweet? She'd made consuming enough sugar for a family of four an almost daily habit after all.

The sound of creaking floorboards as someone started to make their way downstairs made her jump, and she made a snap decision, quickly dumping another teaspoon of sugar into her mug and scrambling to put the sugar away as if it were forbidden for her to touch. She could feel her heart beat in her chest, and an exciting, almost dangerous, buzz of anticipation spread through her body like a heat radiating from her core. She felt ridiculous to be so affected by such a small and mundane act, but she loved it nonetheless. Knowing her parents were about to enter the room, she tried to shake the feeling and focus on the job at hand, retrieving milk from the fridge and adding it to the steaming mugs of brewing tea. Chloe's father came in first, also wearing a dressing gown over his pyjamas. There was a scratching sound and then muffled barks from the direction of the back door so Tom strolled over to let Max in. The excitable terrier ran into the kitchen, jumping up on the back of Chloe's legs as she stirred one of the mugs, before running out of the room towards the lounge, somehow picking up on the unusual mood of the morning and acting crazier than ever. Chloe's mother finally joined them in the kitchen, and Chloe offered her one of the mugs.

“Thanks Darling. Where's Ben?”

“Watching TV” Chloe said flatly as she passed her father his mug.

“BEN!” her mother shouted in the direction of the hallway.

“WHAT?” came a whiny response but the sound of the TV stopped and he eventually came out into the hallway, taking slow, exaggerated steps.

“Come on, it's time for breakfast, don't be like this today please. I need you to lay the table.”

“Fine...” he grumbled and came in to the kitchen to help.

“Chloe, help your brother please.”

“Are we eating in here or in the dining room?” Chloe asked.

“The dining room Darling, it's Christmas!” her mother smiled at her and cupped her daughter's cheeks in her hands warmly. Chloe grinned from ear to ear in response, then picked out a tablecloth once her mother had let go. Ben picked up place mats and cutlery to carry through tot the dining room. They laid the dining table together, mostly in silence, as their mother prepared croissants in the kitchen and their father made a big pitcher of Buck's Fizz. As Chloe went back to the kitchen to get more utensils for the table, she took a swig out of her tea which had left on the side to cool to a good drinking temperature. Chloe's eyes widened slightly as the warm, sugary concoction hit her tongue. It was deliciously sweet. 'OK, three sugars it is from now on then' she thought to herself with a devious smirk, taking yet another incremental step in her growing addiction to excess. Finishing the last drops of tea yielded another sweet surprise – some of the sugar hadn't dissolved properly, and was now collecting in a thick, syrupy puddle at the bottom of the mug. Chloe tipped the mug right up, until the mixture had slid all the way down the inside of the mug and into her mouth. It was a bit grainy, but she was too occupied with the pleasurable sensation of all that sugar on her tongue to care.