‘I can understand, even though I’ve got Lily.’
‘But Audrey watches television in the evenings and meets up with friends…’
‘Adam and I used to watch a lot of reality shows. Love Island was a favourite. We’d cosy up with a takeaway and give our own narratives on which couples should get together. We’d shout at the screen when couples we liked split up and cringe together at the arguments. I tried watching it on my own after he died. I didn’t last more than a couple of episodes. It just wasn’t the same. And if I’ve been out for the evening, unless Lily is awake, there’s no one to share my news with when I get back. It’s as if it hasn’t happened. At the beginning it was so hard walking into an empty lounge at night without Adam there, him guiltily eating my favourite biscuits and reading one of my magazines, waiting to hear the gossip.’
We sat in silence until Audrey came back.
‘It sounds to me as if you two are similar – both of you covering up your real feelings,’ I said. ‘Two strong women who love their families.’
Audrey looked at Cara. ‘I’m so sorry. You’re such a good girl. I hope in time you’ll be able to forgive me. But I completely understand if not.’
‘That aside, you can’t go home for Christmas.’
‘Whatever you say. I don’t want to upset anyone. But I’ll move back home straight afterwards.’
The doorbell rang. Davina went to answer it. John appeared.
‘What’s going on? I thought you’d all be back by now. Where are the kids?’
‘At the pizza takeaway with Max,’ said Davina.
‘Audrey just slipped on the ice – but she’s okay,’ said Cara. ‘I was going to ring you but—’
He crouched down by his mum. ‘A fall? Where does it hurt?’
‘My back caught the brunt of it but a couple of days and I’ll be back to normal. I didn’t fall. I just twisted awkwardly.’
‘But you’ve been crying?’ John shook his head and gave her a hug. ‘Then it must have been bad. Come on. I’m driving you to the hospital.’
‘No, it’s better already, John. I’ve just managed to walk to the bathroom. It was just the initial shock.’
‘So everything’s okay…?’
Audrey swallowed and curled her hands into fists. ‘No. I had something to confess.’
His eyebrows raised.
Audrey stuffed the used tissue up her jumper sleeve. ‘All this time, I’ve been staying at your house, I didn’t mean any harm but…’
I gazed at Davina who bit her lip and stared back. The three of them deserved privacy but it would have appeared rude for us two to leave the room now.
‘I lied,’ she continued. ‘Lied to your faces. You all deserve better. The truth is—’
‘The truth is your mum feels guilty because her ankle has actually felt fine for a few weeks,’ cut in Cara. ‘She reckons she could have gone home at the beginning of this month but she’s enjoyed helping out with the housework and the girls. I’ve told her not to be silly. This accident shows she isn’t quite up to speed yet.’
‘And that’s all?’
Audrey looked at Cara. A lump formed in my throat as Cara nodded.
John laughed. ‘Goodness me, Mum, that’s no reason to get upset. I’ll let you into a little secret,’ he whispered. ‘Whenever I get a cold I eke it out for as long as possible.’
Audrey was still staring at Cara. She dabbed her eyes again.
‘But I’ll definitely be going home the first week of January,’ she said.
‘No problem,’ said John. ‘Now is that the kids I can hear?’ He went to the window.
I looked at my watch. ‘Gosh, no wonder you came calling, John. I’d better get going. Lily will never get up tomorrow morning.’
Cara stood up. She looked down at Audrey, her serious expression not flickering, and after a pause held out her hand. Audrey swallowed and reached out her arm. Gently Cara pulled her up.
32
It wasn’t long before Lily and I were back at Cara’s house. We stood outside. It was Saturday night and her pre-Christmas buffet. I’d spent the afternoon worrying, whilst Lily was at football. Three times I’d added up everything the calendar had raised so far, along with the money from the fair and auction and it didn’t look as if it was going to be quite enough. I’d contacted my editor at the Birchwood Express last week. The feature he promised would be running on Monday. He’d approved the changes I’d made in the copy, stressing the urgency of the fundraising and reaching out to locals across Alderston to support the last night at my place, this coming Tuesday. I’d also mentioned the auction of the trip to Bruges.
But what if the attendance didn’t increase? We’d had a few extras over the last few days, residents having mentioning it at their place of work, at Scout and Brownie and toddler groups… but it was a busy time of year. Everyone was either out shopping, wrapping presents, getting their house ready for guests or preparing to pack for a trip away. Then there was the tying up of loose ends and staying in the office late to make it easier to take the festive break. And people received more invites out – work do’s, children’s parties… standing outside in the cold was less attractive. Davina’s neighbour had got me some of the cheaply priced red wine and Cointreau on a sale or return basis. Both of those had gone down so well on her night I was hoping to replicate the income. Plus Father Christmas would be in my front window again.
In the end, I’d chatted with Davina and Cara, and we decided it was best to share our worst fears with Ron. I’d dropped into the food bank. Ron managed to take a break from sorting out donations and organising different food items and we grabbed coffee in his office.
‘I… I feel terrible saying this, after everything I’ve promised,’ I said, ‘but—’
‘Stop right there,’ he’d said. Ron leaned back in his chair. Dust covered his jumper. His sleeves were rolled up. His portly stomach hinted at a lifestyle of grabbing unhealthy snacks because the hours were hard. ‘Before you carry on, Fern, you don’t deserve to feel terrible about anything. I can’t thank you enough for how you’ve taken it on yourself to help save the food bank.’ He swallowed. ‘Are you here to tell me your plan isn’t working?’
I’d stared at my undrunk coffee. ‘I’m here to say that’s a possibility. We won’t know until the very last night. The signs are worrying.’ I sat more upright and met his eyes. This was hard. ‘I felt it best to warn you, in case you needed to start making any preparations for the closure of this place.’
Ron’s head dropped into his hands. Eventually we chatted about the options. Ron needed to make a list of other food banks in nearby towns he could pass his supplies onto – just in case. I tried to leave on an upbeat note saying that my concerns might all be for nothing.
On top of all this I’d been fretting about Kit. I’d texted the day after Davina’s fireworks as I hadn’t seen him in the playground. Asked what his plans were. Tried to keep it cheerful by sending a gif with a waving hand. He replied that he wasn’t exactly sure yet. Kept it vague. I didn’t question him again when we bumped into each other just before the school bell rang. I still hadn’t had a chance to chat to him, in depth, before the end of term yesterday.
Finally, bit by bit, I was accepting that our friendship had limits. There was a side to his life he was keeping private. I’d tried asking him about his parents but he changed the subject. My journalist’s brain was doing its best to work things out but coming up with zero. I always thought our friendship had grown pretty strong. I’d confided in him about how worried I was when Mum was in hospital with pneumonia and the difficult time I went through with Lily when she’d gone through a phase of being obsessed with playing Fortnite. And he’d told me about his struggles to deal with a noisy neighbour in the flat above his and how nervous he’d been when he’d first started the caretaking job.
It was said people came into your life for a reason or a season. Perhaps, with Kit, it was both – to make me realise I could love again, after Ad
am, and then he’d be leaving.
I was trying to be more Cara – the old Cara who was back after Audrey’s confession – and see the positives.
Forcing myself back to the present, I let Lily ring the doorbell. Footsteps sounded behind us. Mia and Tommy. She’d fitted so well into our little group. I wished I could say the same for her son. Davina had spoken to her boys about being kind – explained how it was difficult for both him and his mum, starting over at a new school – but it had made little difference.
‘I went into the school,’ she’d said yesterday. ‘Jasper’s work hasn’t dropped off and he’s fine in class. Miss Jones said not to worry, and that many children move away from affection with their parents during adolescence, but with some it happens as they progress though junior school. That the supposed stomach aches could just be a way of testing the boundaries he’d easily accepted as a small child.’ She’d shrugged. ‘But I know my son. It’s ingrained in his personality to be demonstrative. It’s not an age thing.’
Lily and I were close. Often she came into my bed for a cuddle. I’d tried hard not to lean on her when Adam died. Yet instinctively she’d known when I was down – and vice versa.
‘That looks amazing,’ I said to Mia, my words turning the cold air white.
‘We did it together,’ said Tommy proudly, as Lily and I admired the decorated gingerbread house Mia was carrying. I’d brought a bottle of wine, a tray of ready-made festive vol-au-vents and a large bag of turkey-and-sage-flavoured crisps. That was one reason Cara, Davina and I got on so well – there was no competitiveness. I didn’t feel compelled to try and outdo Cara’s cooking or buy something more expensive or exclusive than what Davina could provide.
‘It nearly killed us making it,’ said Mia, ‘and when I say we made it – all the pieces came in a ready-to-assemble pack. The sides kept falling down. Tommy kept me calm and between us we eventually got there.’
‘Icing makes really good glue,’ he said. ‘Mum said she’d use it on my mouth when I got too chatty. I wouldn’t mind that.’
‘Me neither,’ said Lily and she licked her lips. Tommy giggled.
The door opened. Wonderful smells escaped into the night. Southern fried chicken. Pesto. Garlic. We took off our shoes and coats, our hats, gloves and scarves. The snow had disappeared for now. More was due to fall on the twenty-third.
I followed Lily and Tommy into the lounge. Max and John were on the carpet playing Cluedo with the twins, Hannah and Lex.
John looked up. ‘Before you accuse me of avoiding the work, I marinated the meat, set the cutlery and dishes out. Oh, and Max here made his punch.’
‘Talking of which…’ Davina passed me a glass. I inhaled the spicy, citrus aroma. Max’s concoction was like a festive Sangria that gave you that summer holiday feeling.
‘I wasn’t going to say a thing,’ I said innocently to John. ‘In fact, I’m nothing but grateful you’ve not helped with the salads.’
Playfully he shook his fist. Cara grew her own lettuce and we’d never let John forget how he’d not washed them properly once and served up slugs.
Mia and Davina started chatting about a new skin care range that had come on the market whilst Tommy and Lily sat down to join in with the board games. The Cluedo one had just finished. Tommy suggested they play cards as he’d learnt a new game. Jasper promptly got up and said he needed the toilet. I went into the kitchen area. Audrey was decorating the trifle with flaked almonds and glace cherries.
‘How is your back?’ I asked.
‘Fine, thank you.’ She didn’t make eye contact. ‘It was just a little stiff for a couple of days but has been much better today.’ I carried the trifle onto the table for her. Cara suggested she pour my crisps into a bowl.
‘It’s great having an extra pair of hands,’ she said.
Audrey’s cheeks went red and she took the crisps into the lounge to hand around.
‘How are things between you two?’ I asked in a low voice and went over to the sink to wash up some dirty chopping knives. Cara was setting plump white floury rolls onto a floral plate. She stopped.
‘We’ve had a really good talk. She still feels awful about it all but…’ Cara shrugged. ‘Grief does funny things to people. I know that. Audrey hasn’t been thinking straight these last few months, in my opinion. Take my dad…’ She sank her hands into her apron pockets. ‘I don’t think I ever told you but when I was at high school he had an affair. His brother had died unexpectedly. He was just fifty. Mum only ever talked about it once, when the children were babies and John and I were going through a rough patch – nothing serious, it was just the lack of sleep causing irritations between us. Anyway, she reckoned my uncle dying had made Dad more aware of his mortality and brought about a kind of mid-life crisis. He stopped the affair as soon as Mum found out and was so sorry he made himself ill. Mum forgave him and since then they’ve had another ten years of wonderful marriage.’
I flexed my hands in the soapy water. ‘I fell out with a neighbour the day after Adam died. He had a really tall bush that grew high above his front fence, casting a shadow over the whole of our small garden so that our shrubs struggled to grow. Adam hated it. Within hours of coming back from the hospice I marched around and demanded he cut it back. He refused. So I chopped a good two feet off it myself. My neighbour went ballistic and was about to ring the police when something snapped inside me and I broke down. He didn’t know Adam had died. Hadn’t even known he was ill. We reached a truce. I insisted on giving him a garden centre voucher.’ I picked up the sponge. ‘So, it’s okay between you two now?’
‘We’ve been out for coffee. Sat up late at night talking when everyone else is in bed. I never realised how difficult it was for her when John was little. She sees my life as idyllic. But the chat with you and Davina helped – and made me realise, too, that all parents have their struggles behind the cheery facades in the playground.’
‘Have you told John?’
‘Only about Audrey being lonely. In fact, he and I have come to a decision. I’d find it challenging if Audrey lived here full-time – and that’s nothing against her, I’d feel the same about my own parents, unless they were incapacitated. For a start the house just isn’t big enough and—’
‘You don’t need to make excuses,’ I said. ‘It’s not as if Audrey can’t be independent. And you have yourself to think of as well.’
‘That’s what John and I concluded. But at the same time we don’t want her to feel alone. So we’re going to suggest that she moves onto the estate. She’s still young enough to join clubs and make new friends. There are plenty of charity shops in Chesterwood that need volunteers and this way she can see as much as she likes of the girls. And it’s not so far from her old neighbourhood that she can’t visit friends for a couple of days, especially as she still drives.’
‘That sounds like a great solution.’
‘She does feel very embarrassed about you and Davina knowing, though. But there’s nothing that can be done about that.’
‘What does she think to the idea of moving?’
‘We’ll tell her after Christmas. It’s a big decision. But I’ve already had a look online and there’s a lovely bungalow for sale, not far from the shops near the school. And one of Davina’s friends belongs to a Bridge club, so Audrey might get an introduction there.’
I dried my hands on a tea towel. ‘Cara Taylor, you are one of the most generous-hearted people I know.’ I gave her a big hug.
She was also one of the best cooks. No one could wait to tuck into the Christmas fare. There was smoked salmon quiche and pan-roasted ginger sprouts, chips to please all and cranberry and Camembert puffs, plus garlic bread. Also every year Cara made fairy cakes with her girls. They’d chosen the theme of unicorns this year – nothing to do with Christmas but they added to the season’s magical feel with the pink icing, gold spray and edible glitter. The girls dived into them, as did Arlo.
‘Tuck in, Jasper, I know you like unicorns,’
said Davina.
‘No, I don’t,’ he said hotly. ‘They aren’t for boys.’
Arlo turned around and took a big bite out of one. Jasper sneered and turned away. Tommy picked up another southern fried chicken leg. The men did the washing up whilst the rest of us played charades. Then we gave the children ten last minutes to play on their own before it was time for home and bed.
Mia sat in the lounge with John and Max trying to convince them of the benefits of skincare for men. Davina and I stood in the kitchen talking about Audrey who had hardly talked to either of us all evening. We’d heard her say something in the living room about needing an early night and she simply called goodnight through to us. I whispered Davina’s and my idea into Cara’s ear and her face broke into a smile.
‘Audrey!’ I called. ‘Don’t leave without saying goodbye.
She came into the kitchen with a sheepish look on her face.
‘Me and Davina were wondering…’ I said. ‘There’s a new romance movie scheduled for release at the end of December. It comes out the day before New Year’s Eve. I’ll be back from London by then. Would you like to come with us and Cara?’
‘Please,’ said Davina and rolled her eyes. ‘It’s set during the Second World War. Fern and Cara always cry at the sad bits. I could do with someone there who isn’t going to turn into a blubbering wreck.’
‘You want me to come?’
‘Honestly, you’d be doing Davina a favour,’ I said. ‘Her face was a picture at the last weepie. She’d come prepared with a packet of tissues and passed them disdainfully to us during the showing.’
‘I… I’d love to.’ She said. ‘I enjoyed our other cinema evening so much.’
‘Thanks for that,’ said Cara, once she, Davina and I were alone again.
‘Hey, anything for my best buddies,’ I said. Unexpected tears came into my eyes and I slipped my arms around both their waists. Christmas always made me feel emotional, let alone when I was running a charitable campaign and facing losing a romantic interest I never thought I’d have again. I hadn’t expected to experience another sense of loss so soon after losing Adam. The three of us hugged tight as we formed our own rugby huddle. ‘I couldn’t have done this calendar without you two. But it’s more than that. I couldn’t have done the last three years. You’ve always been there for me. With support and love. Laughter when I’ve needed it – and sharp words.’
The Christmas Calendar Girls Page 21