Comfort and Joy Page 7

  ‘I’m even older than that,’ I said, setting one of the dishwashers to run, ‘but my parents would be worried about me if I didn’t turn up at home.’

  ‘Not mine.’ She shook her head. ‘Mum and Dad will be too busy looking after everyone else. My youngest auntie has come to stay with her two kids and a new baby. My sister had just found out she’s pregnant and she’ll be draped over her fiancé all day and my little brother is home for a week from the army. Nah, I doubt they’ll even have noticed I’m not there.’

  I leaned back against the worktop and folded my arms.

  ‘And I guess it doesn’t help with Cheryl not being here, does it?’

  Pixie gave me a wan smile and sidled over to me. Her girlfriend was a researcher for a primetime TV show. She worked long hours and travelled all over the country and when she’d broken the news to Pixie that they weren’t going to be spending Christmas together due to her schedule, Pixie had been upset for three whole days.

  ‘Mum doesn’t mean anything by it.’ She took her glasses off and polished them on the edge of her T-shirt. ‘In theory she’s cool with me being gay. But now that there’s a grandchild on the way, it’s like I’ve become a second-class citizen. I’ve even been turfed out of my bedroom for the next three nights so my sister’s fiancé can be made to feel part of the family. I feel …’ She shrugged. ‘Well, I feel like an outcast in my own home.’

  My heart ached for her and it was on the tip of my tongue to invite her to stay with us. But Tom had gone on and on about how fantastic it was not having to cater for any guests over Christmas so much that I didn’t dare, especially now that our Christmas dinner à deux had been hijacked.

  ‘Well, I for one am glad you were here to help out today,’ I said, squeezing her shoulders. ‘We couldn’t have managed without you, as usual, but you should get in touch with your parents; they’ve probably missed you more than you think.’

  ‘You’re right and I have missed them, noisy and argumentative though they are.’ She gave me a lopsided smile. ‘I’m just too stubborn to admit it. But I’ll text them.’

  I had a sudden pang of longing to be with my own mum and dad as I led Pixie back downstairs. That wasn’t going to happen but roll on four o’clock when I’d arranged to Facetime them in Canada and see their familiar faces.

  Gifts and surprises

  Our Christmas lunch was a triumph. We had raised a glass to absent friends (Mags and I had shared a sad smile; both of us had lost someone dear this year), eaten ourselves into a stupor and everyone was full, despite some of the serving dishes looking almost untouched. Even Comfrey and Sage had stopped snuffling under the table for treasure and had fallen asleep next to the big glass doors overlooking the river. Annabel was yawning too.

  ‘I’m going to have to leave this last mouthful of Christmas pudding,’ said Pixie, dropping her spoon in defeat. ‘Much as I’d like to finish it.’

  ‘I’ll probably never need to eat again,’ said Dave, undoing the belt on his trousers.

  ‘Eyes bigger than your belly, David,’ Nora said, helping herself to one more mini mince pie.

  ‘I know what we need,’ said Mags, plonking a big kiss on his forehead.

  ‘A brisk walk along the river’s edge together to check the levels?’ He looked at her hopefully.

  We all laughed at that: Dave was the king of the outdoors; Mags wore high heels even to hang out the washing.

  ‘A cup of tea and the Queen’s speech?’ Nora put in.

  Mags shook her head. ‘Not unless you want to watch her on a tiny phone. There’s no TV here and no internet at the moment, Mum, so we can’t even get Her Majesty on Verity’s computer. What I was going to say we need was presents.’

  Nora smiled a secret smile, which I put down to Mags calling her ‘Mum’ rather than the fact that the Queen wouldn’t be addressing many people in Plumberry today.

  Suddenly Jack leapt to his feet, his phone in one hand, his other pressed to the top of his head.

  ‘Jane’s phone must have a signal again,’ he said jubilantly. ‘She says the kids have seen the video and are really excited to come and open their presents as soon as the rain’s abated. She’s going to Facetime me so I can talk to them in five minutes.’

  The smile on his face was infectious and gave us all a shot of much needed energy.

  ‘OK, everyone, shall we clear up and get this lot in the dishwasher?’ I said. ‘Then Jack can have some peace and quiet to talk to them without us clattering about. We can open presents upstairs by the tree afterwards.’

  Annabel stifled another yawn and stood up to help but Jack caught her arm and pulled her onto his lap.

  ‘Not you, love,’ he said. ‘I want you to talk to Asha and Finn too – we’re a family, remember?’

  Annabel swallowed and nodded happily. We’d only begun to stack plates and dishes when Jack’s mobile rang, earlier than expected. We all tiptoed out leaving the two of them cuddled up and talking to the children, laughing at their stories.

  Half an hour later the washing-up was done. It was still my least favourite thing about Christmas but many hands did indeed make light work, thank goodness. We were upstairs in the teaching kitchen tidying up the last few bits, Mags was making coffee and Tom was stowing all the sharp knives away carefully.

  ‘Asha asked so many questions about me bumping into Santa. She nearly caught me out,’ Jack was saying, still buzzing after his chat with the children. ‘She’s bright as a button for nine.’

  ‘Sounds like Jane has had just as stressful a time as us,’ Annabel put in. ‘She had booked lunch out with a single friend of hers, which she had to cancel of course and when she nipped out to her local shop last night to try to pick up a turkey, they’d all sold out.’

  ‘So what did they have instead?’ Dave asked, pulling out a chair for his mum to have a rest on.

  ‘Fish finger sandwiches,’ Jack and Annabel said together.

  Tom and I exchanged grins. It was a private joke between us that that was all I cooked when we first met.

  ‘I dunno,’ said Jack, shaking his head in mock dismay. ‘Their dad’s a butcher and they don’t even get turkey at Christmas.’

  ‘Tuck in, folks,’ said Mags, setting a tray with a jug of coffee and cream and a plate of my Christmas-pudding fudge on the tutor’s workstation at the front of the room. ‘Ahh. I’m sure they’ve made the best of things, Jack.’

  ‘They have, Mags. Their second Christmas Day without me.’ Jack’s shoulders slumped and he swore under his breath.

  Annabel and I looked at each other in alarm. Poor Jack, the last thing we wanted was for him to get too emotional again.

  ‘Presents!’ yelled Pixie with intuitive timing. ‘Verity, you’d better come and help. Everyone, sit down.’

  Despite the fact that Tom and I allegedly weren’t ‘doing presents’, Mags, Pixie and I had already exchanged gifts yesterday morning and, of course, I hadn’t been expecting to be with any of the others today, there were heaps of presents under the tree, thanks to all the gifts brought by people this morning. Pixie and I handed parcels out to everyone until we all had a small pile each and were oohing and ahhing over chocolates, bottles of brandy and scented candles when suddenly I noticed a tear roll down Jack’s face.

  ‘I hope next year works out differently for you, Jack,’ I said, patting his leg.

  ‘I hope so too,’ he said, looking down at his pile of gifts sadly. ‘Because all I really want for Christmas is to be a family.’

  Suddenly Annabel was in front of him holding a small rectangular parcel.

  ‘Jack,’ she knelt down and took his hand, ‘I was going to do this in private, but I think now is the right time.’

  He rubbed at his eyes roughly and managed a smile. ‘That sounds interesting.’

  She handed him the gift with a shaky, ‘Merry Christmas, darling,’ pressed a kiss to his cheek and sat back on her heels.

  He smiled and murmured his thanks and then tore off the wrapping paper
. He stared confused for a second until the penny dropped.

  ‘Is this a pregnancy test?’ His eyes opened wide.

  She nodded. ‘A positive pregnancy test. I took it yesterday morning.’

  He sprang up, pulling her with him and gave a holler of joy.

  ‘A baby? We’re having a baby?’ he gasped, holding her in a bear-like grip. ‘You and me?’

  ‘We are,’ she replied, her eyes glittering with tears. ‘You, Jack Winthrop, will never be without at least one of your children at Christmas ever again.’

  ‘That’s the best Christmas present anyone could have given me. Oh, come here.’

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her so fervently that even Tom sniffed a bit. I brushed away my own tears and saw Pixie blinking furiously behind her glasses. Dave was surreptitiously pressing the tip of his thumb to the corner of one eye too.

  ‘Congratulations!’ wailed Mags, not bothering to mask her emotions.

  And then everyone was crying and hugging until Nora clapped her hands.

  ‘Dave and I have got a gift to hand out.’ She hefted her shopping bag onto her knee. ‘This was going to be a private thing too, but I consider you all honorary family members.’

  She reached into the bag and brought out a small square box. There was a collective intake of breath.

  Nora held the box up. It was covered in red velvet and it took all of my will-power not to cry, ‘Open the box!’

  ‘This was my grandmother’s first,’ she said solemnly, ‘then my mother’s, before coming to me in nineteen fifty-eight. I’ve held onto it the longest out of all the women in my family but I couldn’t be happier to part with it now. David dear, the rest is up to you.’

  Dave slowly walked over to his mum, kissed her cheek and took the box from her. Even though I knew what was coming, my heart was in my mouth and I could hardly breathe. Tom squeezed my hand and I squeezed it back.

  I looked at Mags. She was trembling and had tears running down her face; she couldn’t take her eyes off Dave. Nora took a big handkerchief out of her bag and blew her nose so loudly that I half expected Pixie to make a joke about a foghorn. But Pixie was staring at Dave with big bush-baby eyes, caught up in the electric atmosphere in the room. Nobody moved a muscle as Dave stopped in front of Mags and lowered himself down onto one knee.

  He opened the box so that Mags could see the contents. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her throat.

  ‘My darling Mags,’ he began tentatively, ‘since you came into my life, the sun shines brighter, the sky is bluer and the birds sing sweeter. You brighten my world in a million different ways and I love you with all my heart. Will you be my wife?’

  ‘Yes,’ gasped Mags. ‘A million times yes.’

  Dave climbed to his feet, slid a ginormous ruby ring onto Mags’s finger and we all clapped while they sealed the deal with a kiss.

  ‘Oh, if only there was a wine merchant in the house who’d brought some champagne with her,’ said Annabel with a laugh, darting off to the fridge.

  Champagne was quickly poured and a toast to the happy couple proposed, and a second toast to the new baby and even Annabel allowed herself a small glass. The mood was celebratory, but for some reason, I felt my own spirits flagging. I put it down to missing my family, gave myself a shake and focused on Tom.

  He still had some presents to unwrap, including the one I’d labelled for Comfrey and Sage and put on his pile. I’d opened all of mine and there’d been nothing from him. It was stupid of me to mind, childish even. We’d agreed: no presents. But nobody actually sticks to that, do they? I was also regretting buying him a gift; it would only make things worse. What if he was cross with me for breaking the rules and making him look bad? I could have kicked myself.

  ‘OK?’ Tom murmured.

  ‘Fine,’ I said, pasting on a smile. ‘Great.’

  My phone beeped with a text and I grabbed it hoping it was my parents, or possibly my brother but it was from Harriet – a selfie of her and Ravi looking very cosy under the mistletoe with the caption: Best Christmas EVER. I passed it round and everyone raised their glasses one more time.

  Nora stood up and helped herself to a top-up from the champagne bottle. I couldn’t be sure but it looked as if her hands were shaking. Perhaps Dave getting married had affected her more than she was letting on? I was about to go over and check she was OK when she cleared her throat and stood to attention.

  ‘And I’ve got an announcement. I was going to do it over lunch at the restaurant, but that was cancelled so I’m making it now. I’ve decided to sell my house and move into a retirement home.’

  ‘Now wait a second, Mum,’ Dave began, holding up a hand.

  Mags frowned. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

  Nora took a big sip of her champagne.

  ‘Because then the two of you will be able to move in together without me being a burden. No arguments,’ she said, tilting her chin. ‘My mind’s made up. And now I’m going outside for some fresh air and peace and quiet.’ She looked pointedly at Mags and Dave whose jaws had dropped with surprise. ‘Don’t follow me please.’

  And with that she hefted her shopping bag onto her shoulder and made for the staircase. I leapt forward to escort her safely down the stairs and thankfully she didn’t argue.

  ‘You coming outside with me?’ She looked at me intently when we reached reception downstairs. ‘You look like you need a breather too.’

  I felt a tidal wave of emotion threatening to engulf me. The desire to escape was building; a few minutes in the bracing breeze out on the wooden deck might jolt me out of my encroaching melancholy. I nodded.

  ‘All right, but no snitching,’ she chuckled and headed for the door.

  Comfort and joy

  It was already getting dark – not that it had ever really got light, but we definitely wouldn’t be seeing Plumberry at its sunlit, wintry best today. The rain had stopped, thankfully, but the air was damp and breezy and I was glad Nora was wearing a thick cardigan. Despite the gloom, the handrail of the balcony was festooned with solar-powered fairy lights and the deck, with its backdrop of rushing river and overhanging trees, had a wild beauty to it. The two of us wandered over to the edge. I leaned over the handrail and looked down at the river, gurgling and gushing faster and higher than usual. Nora, on the other hand, looked furtively over her shoulder, delved into her bag and brought out a box of slim cigars and an attractive cigarette lighter with a pattern of a peacock on the front.

  ‘Nora, I didn’t know you were a smoker!’ I said in surprise. ‘Is this why you wanted to be alone?’

  ‘Yes. But I’ll make an exception for you.’

  I felt ridiculously pleased, although that waned when she added, ‘I wanted a chat anyway.’

  ‘I take it you’re not supposed to be smoking?’ I said.

  She tutted, slid a cigar out of the packet and popped it between her lips. Her pale pink lipstick had bled into the fine lines around her mouth and her face looked quite comical as she puckered up.

  ‘The doctors never say “please don’t eat so much lettuce”, do they?’ she said drily, flicking the lighter until a small orange glow appeared at the tip of her cigar. She paused to puff on it to get it going. ‘Or “I insist you give up brown rice immediately”. It’s always the most pleasurable things in life they force you to do without. And of course David only wants the best for me.’

  She said this last bit with the tone of a sulky teenager. I suppressed a smile and leaned over the balcony. Her secret would be safe with me.

  ‘Moving into a retirement home is a big step,’ I said, glancing sideways at her. Her hand was still trembling a bit and I think her announcement had taken more courage than she was likely to admit.

  She turned her blue-eyed gaze to me. ‘It was a bit spur of the moment. David had told me he was going to propose to Mags and I approve wholeheartedly, but neither of us had addressed the elephant in the room – me. He moved in after my stroke to keep me company an
d I was very grateful.’

  According to Dave, the hospital had advised against letting her live alone, but she didn’t know I knew that, so I simply nodded.

  ‘Last night I was standing with my head out of the Velux window, in Mags’s spare room, which as you probably know is in the attic, having my night-time cigar and I heard them both out in the garden checking that the greenhouse wasn’t flooded. They were talking about Dave moving into Mags’s house. I couldn’t quite hear the detail, but one thing was for certain – I was being talked about. I don’t want to be a fly in the ointment. So this morning, I made up my mind: I’ll go into a home then Dave won’t have to worry about me. Anyway,’ she added with a sniff, ‘I’m sure I’ll be comfortable enough and it might be fun.’

  I knew for a fact that neither Dave nor Mags thought she was a burden, but it wasn’t my place to interfere. They were a close little trio; I had a feeling they would sort it out between them.

  ‘Dave’s very lucky to have you, you know,’ I said, unable to hold back my sigh.

  She took a puff on her cigar and eyed me beadily. ‘Come on. Out with it.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘There’s nothing wrong really. I’m having a lovely Christmas Day; I’ve got a lot to be grateful for. I just … Well, I just miss my mum. And my dad, but mums are special, aren’t they?’

  Nora patted my hand, her skin papery and thin against my warm fingers. ‘I think so.’

  I shrugged. ‘We didn’t always have the best relationship, but this year we’ve become really close.’ I gave a half-laugh. ‘Or as close as we can be, given the three-thousand-mile divide.’

  ‘By the time you get to my age, you’ve lost a lot of people along the way. You get used to missing them, so this is what I do.’ She exhaled her cigar smoke over her shoulder away from me then dropped the last inch of it into the water below. ‘Instead of being sad because they aren’t here with you, think about a happy time you’ve spent together. Treasure those little moments you’ve had and shine them like pearls, turning them over and over in your mind so that thinking about that person takes you to a happy place rather than a sad one.’