Driving Home for Christmas

by Emma Hannigan

  ‘I’m going to the Christmas market,’ she called to Paddy as she trundled down the stairs towards the front door. ‘Do you want to come?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ he shouted back. ‘I’ve things to do here. Enjoy it.’

  She was secretly glad he wasn’t interested. He’d only get bored after ten minutes and badger her to leave. Sadie had been the day before and told her it was marvellous. ‘They’re all the rage on the continent and this one is a roaring success,’ Sadie said. ‘I know a couple of the women who’ve set up stalls. You’ll love it, Holly. You can buy baked goods or lots of good-quality ingredients if you prefer to do your own.’

  Holly had phoned Sadie early that morning to say she was going to pop down for a look. ‘Will you meet me there? Maybe we could potter about together.’

  ‘I’d love that,’ Sadie said. ‘According to Maeve Dempsey, there’ll be a tent with cookery demonstrations today so I’d every intention of going back to see them. We might learn something new.’

  They’d agreed to meet at eleven o’clock at the gate.

  Holly arrived in plenty of time to be directed to the adjoining field where there was free parking. ‘Will I be clamped in here?’ she called out the window to Tommy Green, who was looking very officious in a hi-vis vest.

  ‘Indeed you will not. But some young boyo might go mad drinking the brandy-laced hot chocolate and go joyriding up that back field.’ He grinned.

  As she walked towards the market Holly felt as if she’d just stepped off an Aer Lingus flight to Vienna. All the stalls were linked by strings of glowing lights, and the local choir and Garda band were serenading the milling crowd. A round of applause at the far end announced Santa’s arrival. Holly stood to watch, her face aglow, as Jimmy O’Shea from Arklow, in a wonderfully convincing Santa suit, waved at the squealing children. That Santa appeared to have travelled from the North Pole in a trailer of hay pulled by a twenty-year-old Massey Ferguson tractor didn’t seem odd to anyone.

  There were live reindeer too, but instead of pulling a sleigh, they were grazing in a little sectioned-off area where the children and adults could admire them. ‘They’re feeding themselves up to get ready for Christmas Eve,’ Jimmy said loudly.

  Holly had never studied reindeer at such close range before. They were much smaller than she’d imagined and far cuter.

  ‘Don’t their thick coats and fuzzy brown antlers make you want to reach out and stroke them?’ a voice said behind her.

  ‘Sadie!’ Holly said, turning and smiling. ‘Aren’t they pretty?’

  ‘Indeed they are,’ she said. ‘Not great to eat, though. I’d venison stew not so long ago and the meat was like leather.’

  ‘Maybe we shouldn’t discuss recipes in front of them. It might ruin their snack.’ Holly felt better already.

  Wafts of gingerbread and mulled wine filled the crisp, cool air. Pulling her list from her pocket, Holly set about buying the ingredients for her Christmas cake. A stall selling organic dried fruit was her first port of call. The stallholder, who looked frozen to the bone, was so helpful and enthusiastic Holly ended up buying enough to make two cakes. ‘I’d no idea raisins even came in that golden colour. They taste like sweets,’ Holly exclaimed.

  ‘Have you tried my special crystallised ginger?’ The woman offered her a slice.

  The tangy lemony flavour was like a fresher, more delicious version of sherbet.

  ‘Chop it finely into your cake mixture. It’s also gorgeous for making homemade gingerbread. I’m doing a little baking demonstration shortly at the main tent, if you’ve time to come,’ she said.

  ‘Will we be able to taste what you bake?’ Sadie asked, always eager for a freebie.

  ‘You will. I’ll be sure to give you the nod when it’s time,’ the woman said.

  ‘Will we go on in and get a good seat?’ Holly asked.

  ‘Why not?’ Sadie said. ‘It’s so cold out here, and I think snow is on the way,’ she said, sniffing the air.

  They went into the marquee and shuddered. It was colder inside than it was out.

  ‘It’ll improve in here once the little stove is turned on and people flock in to see what’s happening,’ Sadie said stoutly, but she looked unsure.

  Holly would gladly have turned and left if they hadn’t been ushered to the front row and made to sit beside a woman who smelled as if she’d just crawled out from under a cowpat.

  ‘Hello, Cynthia,’ Holly said, shocked. The bad-smelling woman was her next-door neighbour.

  ‘Hiya, Cynthia.’ Sadie leaned over to pat her hand.

  ‘I hate Christmas,’ Cynthia said, showing more gum than Holly had ever longed to see in one mouth.

  ‘Poor you,’ Holly said.

  ‘It’s a waste of time, energy and money. I don’t believe in any of the Jesus, Mary and Joseph nonsense, and the rest was invented by greedy bastards who want to make a quick few quid at the expense of fools who have nothing better to do but squander their year’s savings on crap other folk don’t want.’

  ‘I’m sorry you feel that way about it,’ Holly said.

  ‘How are you?’ Sadie asked, having chosen to ignore the rant. ‘We haven’t seen yourself and Jacob for a while. I believe your boy Matt is home from England.’

  ‘He’s a useless string of piss, that boy,’ Cynthia snarled.

  Holly was alarmed. Cynthia had always been quiet and reserved.

  ‘Her dementia has changed her personality,’ Sadie whispered. ‘Bless her.’

  ‘He took everything he could get. I breastfed and nurtured him his whole life. He never wanted for a thing,’ Cynthia said. ‘How did he repay me? He buggered off to live in Zambezi.’ She tutted.

  ‘Wasn’t he in England, Cynthia?’ Holly ventured.

  ‘Don’t you think I know my own husband?’ Cynthia said, blinking. ‘As soon as the war broke out he was gone.’

  ‘She’s totally mixed up,’ Holly whispered to Sadie.

  ‘Two fellas have taken over my house,’ she continued. ‘They tell everyone they’re there to look after me. Truth of the matter is that they’re German soldiers. They steal my things, you know,’ she said.

  ‘Really?’ Holly caught Sadie’s eye: how should they answer her?

  ‘I had fine clothing and jewels once upon a time and they took the lot. Sold them to the pirates.’

  ‘Mum!’ Holly and Sadie turned to see a well-built, better-looking version of Jacob walking towards them.

  ‘Hello, Holly and Sadie. It’s Matt. You haven’t changed but I know I have. It’s been a long time,’ he said, shaking their hands.

  ‘Hello, son,’ Sadie said. ‘We’ve been having a great chat with your mother here.’

  ‘She’s pretty confused, isn’t she?’ Holly mouthed to him.

  ‘It’s been a nightmare, to be honest,’ he said, looking strained. ‘I brought her here thinking she’d enjoy the outing. I was paying for a coffee outside, turned around and she was gone.’

  ‘She’s fine here with us if you want to have a wander,’ Holly said.

  ‘You’re very kind but I’ll probably take her home. She’ll get cold sitting and I can’t imagine she’ll stay too long. She gets very agitated, poor love.’

  ‘Did you meet my Matthew?’ Cynthia asked, in a moment of lucidity.

  ‘We did, Cynthia. He’s looking great. We’re delighted to see him.’ Holly smiled.

  ‘I think we’ll head away now, Mum,’ he said, taking her arm. ‘Oh, no, you’ve stepped in some cow dung.’

  ‘It’s time to get ready for school,’ she said, drifting off again. ‘He never wants to go but he has to. That’s the fact of the matter, isn’t it, ladies?’

  ‘Take care of yourself,’ Sadie said, as Matt led her away.

  ‘Bye-bye, Cynthia,’ Holly called after her. ‘Come over some time, Matt,’ she said. ‘We’d love to see you. Bring your mum and dad for a bit of dinner one of these evenings.’

  ‘Thanks so much, Holly. I appreciate that. Sure I might see you
soon,’ he said, as his mother babbled beside him.

  ‘It’s so sad, isn’t it?’ Sadie said, with tears in her eyes. ‘And it could be you or me.’

  ‘Sure is,’ Holly agreed. Cynthia was only a little older than she was, and Matt was much the same age as Lainey. Jacob had said they were having an awful time with Cynthia and she’d sympathised but hadn’t really understood what he’d meant until now.

  ‘That boy of theirs is good to come back and look after her,’ Sadie said.

  Holly didn’t answer. It hit her once more that Maggie had gone. She’d known things were on a knife edge with Huntersbrook House and she’d gone anyway. What kind of family were they?

  By the time the baking demonstration was about to get going lots of chilly spectators had come into the marquee, making it cosier.

  A very nervous squeaky-voiced girl took to the makeshift stage. ‘I’m going to show you all a traditional fruitcake,’ she said shakily.

  ‘We can’t hear you at the back, lovey,’ someone shouted.

  The girl did her best to project her voice.

  ‘She’s no Nigella, is she?’ Sadie said. ‘Wouldn’t she make you want to cry she’s so nervous?’

  ‘God help her,’ Holly said in sympathy. ‘Still, isn’t she great to do it all the same?’

  Once the painfully awkward demonstration was over, and the plate of tasting slices from a cake she’d made earlier was passed around, the atmosphere relaxed. A much more confident older woman took over. ‘I’m going to show you two ways of icing your cake,’ she said, clearly well used to speaking to groups. ‘One involves covering the cake in almond paste and toasting it and the other is the more traditional white icing.’

  Holly and Sadie watched in awe as she showed them how to make dainty little red rosebuds with fondant icing.

  ‘I’m going to set up a little workshop at my stall outside. Anyone who’d like to come and either buy some ready-made decorations or have a one-to-one demonstration is most welcome. In addition I have bags of fondant icing in all colours for the more adventurous of you.’

  ‘I’ll definitely visit her,’ Holly said to Sadie.

  ‘Let’s get some red and green and we’ll do roses and leaves. The family will think we’re great altogether.’ Sadie smiled.

  Holly’s favourite item in the demonstration was the stained-glass-window biscuits, which involved cutting stars from the dough, placing them on a baking tray and popping a boiled sweet in the centre of each. As the biscuits baked, the sweets melted and bubbled.

  ‘Once they’re out and cooled they do this,’ the woman said, rooting in a box for the finished product and holding it aloft.

  ‘It really does look like a stained-glass window,’ Holly said. ‘Very impressive.’

  Next up at the demonstration table was a man with a crippling speech impediment. He did his best to show them how to make Christmas crackers but he was too much for Holly and Sadie, who had to retreat outside.

  ‘Let’s get a hot chocolate and pick up a few bits and pieces,’ Sadie suggested. ‘Then I’m going home. I’ve a meeting with Do Gooder Gloria about the old folks’ knitting challenge.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Holly asked, as they went to order their drinks.

  ‘It’s part of the initiative to get the elderly involved in some local activities. They all love the knitting, but we’re low on supplies,’ Sadie said.

  ‘What do you need?’ Holly asked, as she paid for the hot chocolate. She sipped hers. ‘This’ll put hairs on your chest. It’s laced with brandy. Once they’ve poured the hot chocolate into the cup they produce a bottle of cognac and glug it in! In no other place would you see the Garda band playing while they sell lethal hot drinks and wave you off to drive into a hedge on the way home.’

  ‘We need wool. We have some but not enough.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ Holly said. ‘We’re not doing big presents this year as you know. Why don’t I buy the wool for a sweater for each person, the old folk can knit them and I’ll give them as my gifts?’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure?’ Sadie said, as she finished her hot chocolate. ‘That stuff is pretty potent all right.’

  Holly drove home slowly. She wasn’t in the habit of drinking and driving and was glad when she pulled to a halt at the front door.

  She set to work baking her cake. With a Christmas CD playing, she allowed herself the odd skip as she weighed the ingredients. ‘Boys! There you are!’ she shouted over the music.

  ‘What on earth is going on in here?’ Scott asked, grinning at Paddy. ‘Looks like Holly’s finally lost the plot.’

  ‘Drunken baking! I’d heartily recommend it,’ she said. ‘I had a hot chocolate at the Christmas market and I’m flying now!’

  ‘A hot chocolate? What did they put in it?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, look what we got you,’ Paddy said, appearing with another tree.

  ‘Isn’t she a beauty?’ Scott said. ‘We spotted it while we were fixing a part of the fence over near the front and figured it might cheer you up. Little did we know you were here having a Christmas party for one!’

  ‘We’ll shove it in a stand, if I can find another, and you’ll be set to decorate it,’ Paddy said.

  ‘Thanks, love. I’m being spoilt this year! Three trees! Didn’t I say all things come in threes?’ she said. As she turned the music down, the mood in the room settled.

  ‘How was the market?’ Paddy asked.

  ‘Lovely. I met Sadie and we had a great time. Cynthia was there too,’ she said. ‘She’s getting pretty bad.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Scott said. ‘She can’t be left now. Matt’s a good bloke and he’s really patient with her, but he’ll have to get some work after Christmas. They might have to put Cynthia in a home.’

  ‘How awful for them,’ Holly said. Once more she thought of Maggie. She wouldn’t wish her mother ill, especially not like Cynthia.

  ‘Are you all right, love?’ Paddy asked.

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Thanks for getting the tree.’

  The smell of nutmeg and cinnamon was divine as the cake began to bake. She rang Do Gooder Gloria and agreed to drop off some wool the next day at the community centre for the old folks.

  ‘Sure you’re a dote,’ Gloria said, patronising as ever. ‘You’re great altogether.’ Holly was glad they were on the phone. She knew the other woman did fantastic work but she was very annoying all the same. ‘You can sleep easy now tonight, knowing you’ve been such a great girl.’

  Holly, Paddy and Scott set to work decorating the tree. ‘The house is getting really Christmassy now,’ Holly said. The shot of alcohol and quick dance around the kitchen had done her the world of good. ‘I’m going to ask Cynthia, Jacob and Matt to join us for Christmas dinner,’ she whispered to Paddy. ‘Otherwise they’ll have a miserable time.’

  ‘Ah, you do that,’ Paddy agreed readily.

  ‘Will you ask the others to join us with your good self for Christmas dinner?’ she said to Scott, as he put the lights on the tree in the kitchen.

  ‘That sounds great, Holly, cheers!’ Scott said, smiling. As he burst out laughing they both looked at him.

  ‘What?’ Holly said.

  ‘I think Do Gooder Gloria’s rubbing off on you, my girl. I’m going to rename you Saint Holly.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, you!’ Holly said, swatting him with a string of tinsel.

  Next morning Sadie arrived first thing, saying she’d get started on covering the cake with marzipan and white icing.

  ‘I’d love to give those flowers a shot, so wait for me for that part, will you?’ Holly asked. ‘I’m going to grab that wool and drop it in to the community centre for the oldies to get going.’

  Paddy was on his way to Dublin to collect Joey from hospital. Scott was accompanying him in case they needed to lift him into the car.

  ‘I’ll be back and ready to take care of him once I drop my wool off,’ Holly promised.

  Going into the wool shop was like stepping back in time
. The smell evoked vivid memories from Holly’s childhood. The proprietor was delighted to chat to Holly, commended her for her charitable donation and offered to throw in a few extra balls for free.

  ‘Those Christmas sweaters can be quite tricky and detailed though,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sure they can, but Gloria’s in charge. I’m just delivering what I was asked for and leaving it at that.’

  ‘Quite right. The less said to that woman the better. She’ll only lecture you on everything from washing clothes to wrapping presents. She thinks she knows it all.’

  Holly got into her car with several bags of wool and drove to the community centre. She went inside where she found Gloria, who was very busy so hadn’t time to talk much.

  ‘Just wait until your family see what these ladies are going to produce,’ she said. ‘You’ll be amazed.’

  ‘Will they have enough time? It’s less than a week to go,’ Holly wondered.

  ‘There are so many who want to do a bit that we let them do a section each and sew them together,’ Gloria explained. ‘Some are more interested in sleeves, while others love the patterned fronts. Don’t worry, I’ll have a good few sweaters ready for you to give as gifts next week.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure …’

  ‘I heard about your Joey by the way. Let me know if I can help when he gets out of hospital. It must be very difficult for you since your mother eloped with that wine man,’ Gloria said. ‘I believe your daughter was stabbed by her boyfriend too. Awful for you and Paddy.’

  ‘Joey will be fine and Pippa wasn’t stabbed,’ Holly said, trying not to sound snappy. She didn’t like the way Gloria was painting them as a dysfunctional family to be pitied.

  As she made her way home, Holly tried to focus on the positive. Her neighbours had happily accepted her invitation to Christmas dinner. All the children would be there, with friends thrown into the mix. She’d more beautifully decorated trees than she could shake a fairy at. All in all it was shaping up to be a fun and festive day.

  Holly hoped against hope it wouldn’t be their last at Huntersbrook House. She was a firm believer in the power of positive thinking, and until now she’d tried to believe that something would turn up so that they could hold on to the house. But the walls were closing in on her. Her latest idea was to ask a Dublin estate agent if they knew of a developer who would buy the land for building.