The Mother of All Christmases

by Milly Johnson

  As she walked home she wondered if Tommy had gone to that supermarket to avoid her too.

  Chapter 28

  Just when Eve thought that the day of the Half Christmas celebrations would never come, it did – and it was a total triumph – and then it ended and with it all the pressure that had threatened to blow everyone’s head off for months.

  ‘What a day,’ she said, spearing a chip and delivering it to her mouth.

  ‘The best day I have ever had in my life,’ answered Jacques, as soon as he had cleared his mouth. ‘A baby. A little tiny baby. Our baby.’

  The amazing success of the opening had faded into obscurity when placed next to his wife’s joyous revelation. Eve could feel the heat of his grin from across their dining table; it was so fierce, she could have barbecued a chicken on it.

  Her original plan was to make them a lovely meal that evening and tell him about the baby over dessert, but best-made plans never ran smoothly. Eve had felt inexplicably sad when the crowds began to disperse, an inevitable comedown after months of living off adrenaline: the euphoria that the day’s success had brought had dissipated and pregnancy hormones had flooded in, setting her brain into a spin. She’d taken herself off to the quiet of the animal quarter, where Jacques had found her. One kind word and a cuddle from him and the news came tumbling out in one big wordy rush instead of over a romantic candlelit supper.

  She’d thought he would have raced around the park like a madman with his hands up in the air, but he didn’t. He held her at arm’s length and looked into her face to check she wasn’t joking, then he had burst into tears. Man tears. A quick burst, as if they were a massive overspill of emotion, then he had hugged her tightly then swept her up and declared that they were going home immediately and would leave Myfanwy in charge of organising the lock-up. They called in at Sedgewicks for fish and chips to take home and celebrate.

  Even going into Sedgewicks added to the weirdness of the day because the staff in the restaurant were full of the news that none other than Franco Mezzaluna had been there for his lunch. Eve doubted it, but today had been anything but sane, so maybe it was true. The waitresses certainly believed it anyway.

  Home for Mr and Mrs Glace was an old farmhouse overlooking Half Moon Hill. It had been a wreck when they bought it. The man who sold it had been born in it eighty-eight years before and was selling up so he could spend his last years in Portugal with his expat family. The décor was two hundred and eighty-eight years old but both Eve and Jacques could see the building’s potential. It had the most fantastic views and a huge fireplace that took up nearly the whole of one wall of the sitting room. Effin’s men had had their work cut out turning it from a wreck into something cosy and structurally safe for them, but if Effin couldn’t do it, no one could. As soon as the kitchen, bathroom and central heating had been installed, they’d moved in but there was still quite a bit of decorating to do and only two of the five bedrooms had been finished. Now they needed to get a move on and transform a third into a nursery.

  ‘I want a proper wedding,’ Eve announced as she tipped the teapot over Jacques’ enormous Bagpuss mug.

  His fork stopped on its journey up to his mouth.

  ‘But we are married, Eve,’ he said. ‘Don’t you remember? I wore a suit and you wore a red dress. Is this the onset of baby brain?’

  ‘Of course I remember, you twerp,’ she replied, ‘but it was in the town hall and just the two of us.’

  ‘As you wanted it,’ said Jacques.

  Eve gave a small grunt. Another of her stupid decisions. She’d said she didn’t want a fuss. But, if she was really honest with herself, she had never felt properly married. A traditional ceremony would have made all the difference. They had a lovely wedding chapel on site in Winterworld and she knew that Jacques would have relished the idea of a big splashy celebration, but he’d not fought her decision to keep it low key.

  ‘Well, I’ve changed my mind,’ said Eve.

  ‘Shall we get divorced first?’ Jacques asked, eyebrows raised quizzically.

  ‘Too expensive,’ said Eve. ‘What about a renewal of our vows in our chapel? And a massive party for our friends afterwards.’

  Jacques studied her to see if she was serious. She answered his look.

  ‘Yes, I do mean it.’ She sighed long and hard. ‘Look, Jacques, I know you wanted a full bells and whistles wedding and I know that I . . . that I . . .’

  Felt guilty. Jacques didn’t say it but in his mind he filled in the missing words for her. The short and easy answer was that a little part of Eve felt uncomfortable at the idea of having the sort of wedding she had been planning to have with Jonathan. It hadn’t sat right with her then, but he also knew that it had nothing to do with her feelings for him. Eve loved him with her whole heart, of that he had no doubt.

  ‘It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. We did the vows thing, we got married. That’s all that was important.’ He waved her words away with a slice of buttered bread.

  ‘No, I was wrong,’ said Eve. ‘My Auntie Susan didn’t get the chance to buy a new hat and I am absolutely in Phoebe’s bad books for denying her the chance to be a bridesmaid.’

  Jacques grinned. Eve’s goddaughter Phoebe May Tinker didn’t take any prisoners. ‘So I’ve decided that I want a big Christmas wedding,’ said Eve.

  ‘But you can have a winter wedding any time. We have wall to wall wint—’

  ‘No, Christmas. At Christmas,’ said Eve, much to his surprise because when he’d first met her she was more anti-Christmas than a shed-full of Grinches. ‘I want wall to wall Christmas. Including Christmas itself. I want to be married properly, in our chapel, on Christmas Eve. No, make it the day before Christmas Eve, so that our guests aren’t too inconvenienced. That’s close enough to the big day.’

  ‘Eve, the baby’s due at Christmas. You’ll be the size of a whale, darling,’ said Jacques, with a cheeky wink.

  ‘Then I’ll go to a wedding-dress shop for whales. I want the big frock, the big cake, the big party and the big bouquet.’ She didn’t just want it, she needed it because she felt finally free of the past. She would never forget it because it was part of her journey to happiness, but she had let it go.

  ‘Eve, you can’t plan a wedding two days before your due date. That is absolutely stupide,’ exclaimed Jacques, dipping into French, as he did sometimes when his emotions ran high.

  ‘I can and I’ll tell you why,’ said Eve. ‘Because I can guarantee the baby will be late. I was a fortnight late. So was my mother and my Auntie Susan and Violet. And my Granny Ferrell.’ Her shoulders rippled with a small shudder at the name of her grandma who was the Devil Incarnate’s much more horrible sister. The jackal carrying her was forced to have a caesarean because she had refused to budge from the womb.

  ‘Are you inviting your granny?’ asked Jacques, making his fingers into the sign of a cross.

  ‘With any luck she’ll be on a cruise,’ said Eve. ‘If it’s a choice between a trip to the Bahamas and a visit to a chapel, I have a pretty good idea at what would win. Anyway, the sight of a crucifix would have her turning into flames.’

  Jacques tried not to smile. ‘Okay, if that’s what you want, Eve.’

  ‘It is. And as you are the Christmas expert, how do you feel about being the wedding planner as well?’

  She saw his beloved mouth curve into a smile. She’d probably be given away by a snowman and have elves for bridesmaids, but what the hell – why not? He’d love this duty because he’d wanted a Christmas party wedding from the off, and he had bent so much to her will over the years they’d been together that now it was time to give a little back.

  There was excitement at local theme park Winterland yesterday as Hollywood Alister star Frank Mezzaluna opened the new lagoon named St Evelyn’s Lake and then later was seen around the Penistone area with a mystery woman. Franco, who had been in the country to promote his new film which has the same title as the park, Winterworld, took off to see the local sights. Diners
at Sedgewick’s Fish and Chip restaurant on Half Moon Hill did not realise the star was in their midst eating from the ‘ten per cent off Tuesday’ menu. Waitress Sue Brown said, ‘He said his name was Michael Bublé and he came from Ireland but I didn’t believe him because he looked nowt like. I thought he was off EastEnders.’

  The Daily Trumpet did hear that the mystery black-haired beauty was Chariot Walliams, a distant relative of TV star David Walliams.

  Chapter 29

  ‘Today I’m finally going to see what you look like,’ said Palma inwardly to her baby as they sat on the bus. She was more excited than she thought she would be, but apprehensive too. She needed to know that the baby was healthy because she was slightly worried by the fact that she didn’t seem to be putting on any weight. Considering she was at the end of her first trimester, so the baby book called it, she was as reed-slim as she always had been. She checked in her handbag to make sure she’d got the piece of paper with all the relevant bus times, but she was Palma Collins and so of course she had. As organised as she was, though, nothing could have prepared Palma for what would happen to her in the scanning room.

  *

  ‘You okay?’ asked Jacques as Eve was walking at half her usual pace from the car to the hospital. It had been two days since she told him she was pregnant and he hadn’t stopped grinning since. Eve had woken up to go to the loo last night and found him even grinning in his sleep.

  She grimaced. ‘No, I’m not okay. I feel like a balloon about to burst.’

  ‘Uncomfortable?’

  ‘That’s not even close.’ She felt like cancelling the scan and going to the toilet instead, but she’d already put one appointment off until she’d told Jacques she was pregnant, and by her reckoning she was fourteen weeks pregnant now, so she couldn’t do it again.

  As they turned the first corner past reception, in front of them was a slender woman with short, spiky pink hair.

  ‘I think that might be Palma,’ said Eve. ‘She was at the Christmas Pudding Club.’ She’d fessed up that she’d been there. She didn’t want to conceal a single thing from him anymore.

  They caught up with her at the reception desk. It was her. Palma recognised Eve immediately. Her husband looked nice, she thought. Very tall with one of those faces whose default setting was a smile. Like Tommy’s.

  Introductions followed. Palma noticed that Eve had put on some weight since she’d seen her last and mentioned it and they’d both laughed about how weird it was that they’d be happy to be getting fatter. But Eve couldn’t say the same because Palma’s stomach was washboard flat. But then Palma was much younger, with stronger stomach muscles; that had to have something to do with it.

  ‘You look surprisingly comfortable,’ said Eve, wriggling on the seat to find a position that relieved the pressure inside her.

  ‘Bladder like an elephant, me,’ came the reply. ‘Good job because my appointment isn’t for another half an hour.’

  ‘Lucky you,’ said Eve with a chuckle. ‘You came early, then? We left it until the last possible minute, didn’t we?’ She turned to Jacques but his attention was claimed by something he’d found in a magazine.

  ‘I’m reliant on buses,’ replied Palma. ‘My life will be a lot simpler when I can afford to run a car.’

  Eve nodded in agreement. She was lucky. She’d always had good jobs that enabled her to buy a decent car and run it.

  ‘Any luck with a job yet?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ replied Palma. ‘Do you remember Annie at the club? The one with the cracker firm, well she offered me a job. I’ve been there for two weeks now.’

  ‘Non-alcoholic tiramisu. The world is truly coming to an end. An end, I say,’ said Jacques aloud.

  Eve rolled her eyes at him before continuing to talk with Palma.

  ‘Is it a local firm?’

  ‘Really local. Just outside Maltstone.’

  Eve thought for a moment and then said, ‘Will Annie be going to the Christmas Pudding Club next week?’

  ‘I’m sure she will.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with her there. We should buy some crackers with our logo on them to sell. I can’t believe we didn’t know they were in the area.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course, you own the big Christmas theme park, don’t you?’ said Palma, remembering their introductory speeches. ‘If anyone should have crackers for sale, you should. Prices to suit all pockets, they do loads of really high-quality commercial stuff as well as the cheaper crackers. I’m working on some for Rolls-Royce.’

  ‘That’s a definite then. I’ll talk to Annie and we’ll fix up a meeting.’ Eve committed that note to memory, or as much as her cabbage-brain hormones would allow her to. What a total find if they were so close. She did like to employ local firms wherever possible.

  ‘What next? A banana split with no banana? A Pavlova with no meringue? C’est nul!’

  A door to their left opened. ‘Eve Glace,’ called a woman.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ said Eve. ‘Jacques?’

  Jacques was still lost in the magazine. ‘Surely it would taste as if something was missing?’

  ‘Oh, will you stop talking about puddings and let’s go and see our baby.’

  Jacques sprang to his feet, wearing the expression of a small child who had just been promised the world’s biggest ice-cream.

  ‘Hope everything is all right,’ said Palma.

  ‘Thank you. Same to you too.’

  *

  Eve lay back on the bed with tissue tucked around her and gel on her stomach, which was showing a roundness she was sure hadn’t been there a week ago.

  ‘Would you like any scan photographs?’

  ‘Oh, yes please,’ said Eve and Jacques in unison.

  ‘Right, let’s have a look at your baby, Mrs Glace,’ said Vita Goodchild, pushing the transducer around Eve’s skin. Jacques was holding her hand.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Give her a chance to look, Jacques.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Let me check everything and then I can tell you,’ said Vita, her eyes not leaving the screen. She was smiling, Eve noticed, and she felt comforted by that.

  Eventually Vita said, ‘Here you go. Here’s your baby.’ She turned the screen around and Jacques and Eve saw their child. It never failed to amuse Vita how that first sight affected people. For instance, the big guy in front of her staring open-mouthed at the black and white profile – she would have put money on it that he was the type to start blubbing or even running around the room shouting yippee, but instead he blanched. He gaped at the screen without moving as if he thought the image might vanish if he blinked. As for the dark-haired woman with the lovely green eyes – Vita thought she’d process the sight quietly, without much outward emotion but it was she who burst into tears and couldn’t stop them falling. Vita handed her a box of tissues.

  ‘We go through a lot of these in this department,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘Wow,’ said Jacques, unable to think of anything that fitted the moment better. So much so that he repeated it twice more.

  ‘Now you keep feeding yourself well and resting and growing that baby,’ said Vita, picking up the three photos from her printer and asking the couple to pay at reception. She noticed the big man’s hands were shaking as he took them from her.

  *

  Palma lay back on the bed and wondered what had been going through her mother’s mind when she had her scan. Did she eat her five a day and give up the fags and booze and illegal substances? Obviously not, considering what a state she was in when she’d been born. They’d given her mother assistance so that she could keep her baby. They were idiots, they should have taken Palma from her on day one and given her to a family that would have cared for her properly. Blood wasn’t thicker than water. It just made more mess.

  The sonographer’s name was Vita, Palma noticed. She knew that it meant life. It was a lovely name. Someone had chosen it with care for her. She’d never liked her own name.
Her mother didn’t even know Palma was Spanish; she’d thought it was a place in France.

  Vita was concentrating hard as she moved the transducer through the gel on Palma’s stomach.

  ‘Would you like some photos of your baby?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, please.’ It would be nice for the baby to have them one day, and her new parents.

  ‘They’re three for five pounds. You pay on reception.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re looking at a mid-January baby if you go to term. That’s a wonderful new year present for you,’ said Vita with a smile.

  She carried on doing her checks and then she turned the screen around and when Palma saw the baby for the first time, she had no idea what emotion engulfed her, only that it seemed to start from her toes and wash upwards until it drowned her brain. She began to feel trembly and light-headed enough to faint. She heard Vita’s voice as if it was in the far distance, ‘Are you all right?’ She felt Vita holding her hand, instructing her to breathe deeply, slowly. Vita asked again if she was all right and she answered with a silent nod that she was.

  ‘Sit there for a few moments until you feel okay to get up,’ said Vita.

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘For a minute or so,’ Vita insisted. ‘I’ll get you a glass of water, if you can fit it in.’

  Palma sipped on the drink until she felt able to stand.

  ‘There’s a loo a few doors down,’ said Vita when Palma handed her the glass back. ‘I expect you’ll be ready to use it now. Let me help you. Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘I am, thank you,’ said Palma. But she wasn’t all right. Not all right at all.

  Palma sat in the hospital café, her hands drawing warmth from a cup of hot chocolate. She couldn’t go back to The Crackers Yard without a sit-down and a think first. She opened one of the cards that the receptionist had slotted the scan photo into. She’d seen the picture of Annie’s scan so it came as no surprise to her now that the baby was so ‘baby-shaped’ but it was an altogether different matter seeing her baby on the screen, moving around inside her. Christian didn’t even enter her mind. He’d played such a small part in it all – she’d been more intimate with a piece of plastic than with him, anyway. He’d been written out of her personal history, the baby was all hers, created from her egg, growing in her womb. And seeing it inside her had knocked her for six. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and she didn’t do crying, because she’d done enough of it for a lifetime in her earlier years and it’d got her nowhere. She fished a tissue out of her coat pocket and blew her nose, forced those tears back down.