The Christmas Calendar Girls

by Samantha Tonge

  The hall was filling up. Tension in my chest started to dissipate. Today would give us a good indication if we were going to meet our target by the twenty-fourth. At least we had until the end of December to formally hand in the money. That had taken off the pressure just a little and gave us a week’s respite if we were still a little short after the living calendar ended. I’d spoken to Ron about it last night. If we still missed our target, during that extra week, once I was back from Mum and Dad’s, I’d help him perhaps do door to door collections through the town. I’d also mentioned it to Davina, Cara and Mia and they were on board. We’d do whatever it took to raise the last pounds.

  Mia and I made our announcement and went to the classroom to prepare for the first lot. Ron soon turned up and insisted on helping so I left him with Mia whilst I went to get drinks. I walked along the wide corridor and stopped to peek inside the hall. Lily was still busy on the chocolate tombola. Hannah was helping now as well. Mr and Mrs Jackson from opposite my house bought tickets and as I gazed around I spotted other locals I’d only got to know through the calendar. There was Cara’s neighbour, Pat, who, I discovered, was living in the house she was born in. Her son was the drum player. Since helping out at Cara’s evening they’d got talking and she’d had words with her son not to play too late or early or for too long. And I spotted the couple – Steve and Jilly – who lived a few doors down from Mia. They’d only moved to Birchwood Estate recently and their first child’s birth was imminent. Davina had told them about the local baby and toddler groups.

  It had been great having more people to say hello to over the last couple of weeks as I walked to and from school or visited the shops. Working at home could be an isolating business, especially if you were also the only one downstairs after your child went to bed. But the living calendar was bringing the estate –the community – closer together, creating invisible bonds between us. Pat had already gone around to Cara’s for coffee. Mr Jackson had knocked at several of our doors yesterday asking for sponsorship. He was doing a charity hike. We’d got talking. He didn’t know I was a widow. He’d lost his only child to cancer. I invited him in as Lily and I had just finished baking our brownies. They were a favourite of his wife but she hadn’t found a successful recipe yet, so I printed him off a copy of ours. He said they’d invite me and Lily around when she next baked.

  Davina had bumped into pregnant Jilly whilst out shopping and showed her a baby clothes boutique before they ended up grabbing a sandwich. Then Ruby’s mum got talking to me in the playground and said she’d never known that Mrs Williams, three doors down from her in our road, had just turned ninety. She’d only got a nephew in the area and lived on her own. Between us we agreed to drop in daily during the bad weather to see if she needed any shopping.

  I waved to Lily before carrying on along the corridor. I passed the football room where goals were being scored by parents and kids alike. Jasper was standing at the side looking miserable whilst Arlo and Tommy took it in turns to play and Max stood talking into his phone. The refreshment area was in the classroom at the end. I made my way up the corridor.

  ‘How are things looking?’ asked Mia as she, Davina and Ron crowded around me once I was back and started to count the money raised so far.

  It was too early to tell but the indications were promising. As to be expected, the tombolas were bringing in the most cash, although Cara’s cookie-decorating venture had done surprisingly well. And the auction – what a fabulous idea that had been. The afternoon tea voucher had done especially well. I finished tapping into the calculator on my phone and didn’t trust myself to speak. I held the figure up for Ron to see, my hand shaking.

  Mia and Davina looked at each other nervously.

  Ron ran a hand over his bald head. ‘I can’t believe how generous everyone is. I’m beginning to believe there’s a real chance we can save the food bank. You folks are amazing.’

  ‘I hope that’s true, Ron,’ said a scratchy voice.

  We glanced at the door to see a squat man with bushy grey eyebrows and a flat cap approach, accompanied by Kit.

  ‘This gentleman has been looking for you,’ Kit said.

  ‘Mr Johnston?’ said Ron.

  The man nodded. ‘My aunt lives on this estate. I called into today with a present, she’s just turned ninety and wanted to visit the fair…’

  ‘Mrs Williams?’ I asked. So, this was the food bank’s landlord.

  He looked taken aback.

  ‘I’m a neighbour. A friend and I have been checking on her, what with the snow.’

  ‘Right. That’s good of you. Thanks. I… I do what I can but it’s difficult seeing her every day.’ He looked at the money I’d been counting. ‘You must have been the one to tell her about the school fair and the auction.’

  ‘So how can I help, Mr Johnston?’ asked Ron.

  ‘I’m meeting the developers again on Monday. They are putting on pressure and talking about withdrawing their offer soon, unless I give them an answer. They are fed up of waiting.’ He looked around and shrugged. ‘I admire your tenacity but do you really believe selling baubles and fancy cookies is going to raise enough? Why don’t you just call it quits now? Save us all a lot of bother.’

  ‘You can’t close down the food bank,’ said Kit.

  Mr Johnston raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It saved me, literally, when I first moved to the area at the beginning of this year.’

  ‘You?’ he said as everyone looked at Kit.

  ‘Without Ron and his food packages I don’t know how I would have managed,’ Kit said and his face flushed. ‘I eventually found an affordable place to rent but it took a while for benefits to come in. When I landed in Chesterwood I was starting from scratch. I didn’t have a penny to my name. Visiting the food bank, well, it gave me hope. And there’s nothing like an empty stomach for making the world seem like an even darker place. It kept me going mentally as well. Some days Ron was the only person I talked to. A laugh with him… someone asking me how I was doing… the things I now take for granted meant so, so much.’

  Mr Johnston folded his arms. ‘I’m sorry about that, but I have been letting Ron use the place for peanuts up until now and—’

  Ron held up his hand. ‘You’ve been decent about it. Business is business.’ He sounded tired.

  ‘But if you could just give the food bank some more time,’ I said. ‘Ron’s made great headway with one charity that is interested in taking the food bank under its wing. That might just take a little time to set up.’

  Mr Johnston sighed. ‘I know. He told me. But we’ve been through this before – I’ll still need the next two months’ rent, as reassurance if anything.’

  ‘How about I get a round of mulled wines?’ said Kit brightly. ‘Fern? Mia? Everyone?’ He went out the door.

  Mr Johnston threw his hands in the air. ‘No. I’m sorry. But things are dragging on as it is. I may never get another offer like this. This is my retirement at stake and I’m sorry if that makes me sound selfish but I’ve worked bloody hard all my life and this income will guarantee a worry-free future. My wife at the very least deserves that. Our lives have imploded since I lost my pension pot.’ He pulled his coat tighter. ‘I’m afraid that what I came to say was forget the end of December, you’ve got until the twenty-fourth, Ron.’

  ‘What?’ I said. We needed that extra week as an insurance policy.

  ‘Sorry, but if the money isn’t in my possession by then, that’s it. I’m accepting the developer’s deal. I’m not spending my festive break in limbo as well. It’s been stressful enough as it is, these last few weeks. I need a holiday without this hanging over me. One way or another, Christmas Eve morning, I must know what I’m doing. That’s the latest for sending the extra rent my way.’ He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his perspiring brow before marching out.

  We all looked at each other.

  ‘But the twenty-fourth is the last night of the calendar, at my house, when I’m pulling
out all the stops and so we won’t know by the morning and…’ I didn’t know what else to say.

  Cara shook her head. Davina angrily sounded off. Kit arrived with the drinks. Ron took a mulled wine, blew on it hard and then drank the contents in one go.

  29

  With anticipation, I stood outside Davina’s house. It was Tuesday the sixteenth. After much discussion with other parents I’d decided the very last night’s calendar reveal at my house would have to be moved to the twenty-third, to meet Mr Johnston’s demands. I mentioned it in the Facebook group. As it was, it worked out well. The mum and dad who’d offered to host that night had regretted offering to take part. They were now going away for the festive break to see an ill relative and really needed to travel a couple of days before the Christmas Eve traffic rush. And in the group it became clear that the change of plan suited most people better as Christmas Eve was always a busy time with last-minute shopping and wrapping presents. I suggested everyone advertise the calendar more widely for the approaching final week. We still had a fifth of the rent to cover. The need to achieve that outweighed any concerns about numbers. Even though the estate was quiet we could allocate extra helpers to watch for traffic.

  Plus whilst it had made more sense to hold the auction at the school’s Christmas fair, a last-minute prize had come in yesterday from a travel agency in Chesterwood that had got the fair date muddled up. It offered an amazing prize: a fantastic day trip to Bruges. So we decided bidding for that could take place at mine on the twenty-third, to hopefully produce an even bigger attendance. I’d give the agency a special mention due to their generosity.

  We could do this.

  I had to believe that.

  Davina had really decided to go for it since the wholesalers she contacted via her neighbour gave her such a good deal. Instead of coffees and teas the trays were filled with a choice worthy of any Christmas market. There were mocktails with umbrellas and paper straws, steaming Glühwein in mugs and hot chocolates containing a slug of Cointreau. The latter’s orange aroma proved to be especially attractive. And, as predicted, the fancy drinks brought in a higher rate of donation. As did the trays of delicious festive-themed donuts Davina had ordered in.

  ‘This mocktail is yummy,’ said Lily. Tommy and Lex nodded their agreement. Neither could speak as they were munching red and green iced donuts. The snow had turned solid and Audrey had held firmly onto Cara as they’d walked the short distance here. Mia was helping carry the trays laden with drinks whilst Arlo, Jasper and Hannah offered around the food. At five to six the pop music playing outside switched to traditional carols. Voices on the CD sang about Bethlehem, stars and mangers.

  Davina came out and stood near her window, Arlo and Jasper by her side. I knew Max was going to do the big curtain reveal. He’d made sure he was home on time and had brought along his work mates who eagerly bought refreshments after an afternoon of laying bricks and plastering. Lily stood on tip toe even though she could see fine. Tommy and Lex chomped down the last mouthfuls of donuts and wiped their mouths with their anoraks. He slid a protective arm around the little girl as an adult unwittingly pushed them out of the way as they passed.

  Cara still seemed subdued. She wasn’t the first to jump up and help when Jasper dropped a trayful of donuts. Usually she’d have got there before anyone else. Not that other parents would have noticed, as she smiled at one of the dads’ jokes and sipped a Glühwein. And she’d made the effort to chat with Mrs Williams. Good-hearted Cara had put forward the idea that we should invite the ninety year old each night – that she, me and Ruby’s mum could take it in turns to walk her to each day’s location. Subsequently Mrs Williams was sitting on a folding fisherman’s stool, resting an arm on Ruby’s dad’s arm and looking more animated than I’d ever seen her. No one mentioned her nephew.

  I leant behind Audrey and pulled on Cara’s arm.

  ‘How are you feeling about your appointment at the doctor’s tomorrow afternoon? Are you sure you don’t want me to go along with you?’

  ‘No. Honestly. I’ll be fine. You can come with me if I need a brain scan…’

  She sounded so serious but there was just a flicker of a droll look in her eyes.

  I stood up straight again and felt an urge to turn to my left.

  ‘Beautiful clear night, isn’t it?’ said a low voice from that direction. ‘But still so cold, even though the snow has cleared a bit. I just hope it’s going to be warmer on the twenty-third when I’m sitting down outside, listening to children in all my Father Christmas gear again.’

  ‘The fake belly will keep you warm,’ I said and patted Kit’s flat stomach with a grin, not noticing that Lily had appeared at my side.

  ‘What fake belly? asked Lily, brow furrowed.

  ‘Your mum… she’s just making a joke because I’ve eaten so many mince pies lately,’ said Kit quickly. ‘She says I’ll turn into one soon.’

  Lily giggled but eyed us both suspiciously.

  I felt a twinge of longing. I could just imagine me, Lily and Kit surfing the ups and downs of life together. But since he’d told me about Paula our relationship was firmly back in the friend zone. Our argument had been a shock. It was as if both of us were afraid of threatening our closeness again. But this only made me think more about that kiss. How I couldn’t stop thinking about Kit.

  Finding out about the gambling only made me respect him more. He’d recognised his problem, sorted it out and started over. That took guts.

  Adam would have liked him. Journalism often gave you a behind the scenes view of people who’d gone through difficult times and Adam always said his favourite pieces were about people who, against the odds, had taken control of their lives and soldiered on.

  Like the feature he did on the veteran who’d lost both legs in Afghanistan and was now a gold medal winner at the Paralympics. Or the woman who’d lost her mum and dad in a car crash when she was younger and grew up to be a highly successful foster parent. Inner-city reporting often produced inspirational stories. Birchwood Estate couldn’t have been more different to the streets I spent a lot of my time reporting on in London.

  A teacher once said to me that having every advantage could be a disadvantage. I hadn’t understood what she’d meant at the time. But then I got to know Kit and how before coming to Alderston, he wasn’t happy despite all the money and partying and global travels.

  ‘Ten, nine, eight…’ Davina counted down, probably more for Max’s benefit inside than the spectators. Like the rest of us, she’d refused to reveal her theme. I’d tried to guess. Perhaps it was Christmas fashion? Yes, a display of festive jumpers.

  In response to that suggestion Davina had made me chuckle by giving one of her signature withering looks.

  ‘Three, two, one…’

  The curtains parted and the window lit up with the living room lights in the background and fairy lights around the frames. And in the middle… wow. Why hadn’t I guessed from the religious music? It was the three wise men, painted in metallic paint onto a piece of cardboard. In front was an opulent jewellery box with gold necklaces draped over it.

  ‘Wait for it!’ said Davina. ‘And now for the Christmas star – or rather, stars.’ She appeared to hold her breath as she joined the crowd and stared over the top of the house. One minute. Two… suddenly I jumped.

  Fireworks. Silver and gold. Max must have set a couple off in the back garden. Bouquets of sparks burst across the inky sky as if cosmic forces were having a glitter fight.

  The children were enthralled.

  ‘I had a meeting with the Head today,’ said Kit. ‘I just thought you should be the first to know that—’

  I turned around. ‘Did she agree with you that the new cleaners’ contract should be terminated as they are so unreliable?’

  ‘What? Yes.’ He rubbed a hand over his beard. ‘But that wasn’t why she wanted to see me. It’s Jim.’

  ‘Is he okay?’ I glanced at Lily and we moved away a bit.

  ‘He’
s coming back home for Christmas. Misses his family. Misses baked beans. And most of all, he misses his job.’

  ‘Right.’ My pulse raced. ‘But the Head can’t just dismiss you. Not with such short notice. It’s not fair.’ Protective anger came out of nowhere and burned in my chest.

  ‘She’s not. Jim said he understood, too, if I wanted to stay until the spring.’

  Relief washed over me. ‘What will you do?’

  He didn’t get a chance to answer as Davina came over and he moved away.

  I wouldn’t think about Kit’s future right now.

  ‘You said I’d set the benchmark high,’ I said, ‘but you’ve taken it a step further.’

  ‘I wanted people to think they were getting their money’s worth as I did suggest people paid more than a few coins for the drinks,’ said Davina. ‘You don’t think it’s been a bit over the top?’

  ‘Dear, that was fantastic,’ said Mrs Williams. ‘For years the only fireworks I’ve seen have been on the television.’

  The bangs had inspired Tommy, Arlo and Jasper to shoot each other with imaginary guns. Strange as Jasper had always spurned the plastic swords and water pistols bought for him over the years. He aimed his pretend weapon at Tommy.

  ‘How’s the stomach ache he keeps getting?’ I asked.

  I had cramps right at this minute. Nausea threatened. My palms felt sweaty. Every day was going to seem a little duller without Kit in the playground.

  ‘It only seems to appear on weekdays.’

  ‘Perhaps you should have a word with the school,’ I said.

  ‘Or the doctor.’ Davina shrugged and moved away to start collecting empty glasses and mugs.

  I went to help but Audrey curled her hand around my arm.

  ‘Talking of doctors,’ she said quietly, ‘I couldn’t help but overhear when you spoke to Cara. Why has she made an appointment?’ Her voice trembled. ‘What’s all this about a brain scan?’