The tightness I’d been feeling in my neck over recent weeks slowly unfurled. I blinked. My vision seemed blurry.
‘Don’t do that to me,’ I said, hardly allowing myself to believe it. ‘Are you sure? There’s no mistake?’
She beamed. ‘I’ve counted up tonight’s donations twice so far, just to be sure. And double-checked the maths when I added the figure to the running total. This last boost from the Bruges trip did the trick. Your plan worked.’
I stood still for a moment and then leant forward and gave her the biggest hug. Laughing, she eventually pushed me away.
‘Fern! Let me breathe!’
We grinned at each other. I punched the air, feeling as if I were taller than Kit. ‘But I couldn’t have done it without your auction, Mia – or everyone else’s help.’
A heavy weight of emotion slid off my shoulders. I’d been carrying it ever since I’d come up with the idea of the living advent calendar. It had been a contradictory feeling – excitement at wanting to help coupled with a fear of failure.
We’d really done it.
After all the weeks of organising.
The food bank wouldn’t close.
Ron and his staff could continue to help those who had nowhere else to turn.
Shaking, I headed back to the crowd and cleared my voice and called for hush again. No one heard.
‘Can we have some quiet for a moment, folks?’ boomed Kit in his loudest Father Christmas voice.
Silence fell. Even the carol singers stopped. I went to our low front wall and stood on top. A myriad of shiny faces stared at me, framed by bobble hats and scarves and mouths rimmed with cake or red wine stains.
‘Thank you so much for making tonight such a success,’ I said, voice trembling. ‘Especially as the weather is biting. I so very pleased to announce that…’ I swallowed. ‘It’s official. We’ve reached our target.’
A cheer went up, loudest from Davina and Cara who gave me the thumbs-up. I blew them kisses. Mr Johnston looked around. Slowly he began clapping. Everyone joined in.
‘We’ve shown what a community can achieve if it pulls together,’ I said, voice stronger now. ‘I’m so grateful to all the residents who’ve hosted this calendar. Not only have we got to know each other and made new friends…’
Neighbours looked at each other, smiling.
‘… But we’ve helped a vulnerable group of people who rely on the kindness of others. We’ve shown what the Christmas message is all about – it’s about that goodwill to all, it’s about thinking of others less fortunate than ourselves. I must thank all the companies mentioned on the back of the map who’ve supported us.’ I mentioned the pound shop as well, remembering Kit’s promise to them. ‘And, of course, Father Christmas. He’s busy enough in December but has given us his time.’
Everyone cheered. Kit stood, head held high, grinning from ear to ear. He looked around as parents kept winking. Children pumped his arm and asked questions about his reindeer.
I was so proud of how far he’d come. The Kit I’d known back in that grotty bed and breakfast had thought so little of himself, and here he was, months later, having done a grand job of passing himself off as a festive icon.
He’d moved to a flat. Held down a job. He’d made new friends. He deserved the very best and I’d support him, whatever was next. Even if it meant him moving away.
‘Davina and Cara, come here,’ I beckoned.
They stood on the wall, on either side of me, and linked their arms with mine. ‘These two amazing women made it possible too. They helped me organise this and kept me sane.’
The three of us hugged.
‘And Mia Walker came up with the brilliant idea of the auction,’ I added.
In the crowd Mia’s face glowed and a nearby mum from the playground patted her on the back.
Davina looked at Kit and then looked back at me and winked.
‘Tonight is your chance to say something,’ she whispered.
Christmas was here. A new year approaching. My stomach fluttered. Perhaps it heralded a new start for me, Kit and Lily. Looking back on what we’d all achieved with the living calendar I realised anything was possible for the future.
‘And it’s been fun,’ I said to the crowd. ‘Who could forget the fireworks for number sixteen, or the surprise mince pies for number twenty, dusted with flour instead of icing sugar and containing meat? As for the talking Christmas tree on the seventh…’
It had been an ingenious idea with huge felt eyes in the middle of the tree and an adult hiding behind a screen to answer the very little ones’ questions.
‘I’d like to thank everyone too,’ said a voice in the crowd.
A woman wearing a duffle coat walked forwards. Her grey hair was scraped back into a ponytail. There was no scarf or jewellery. No make-up. No bag. Accessories were the luxury of those not hard up.
‘The food bank is providing my son and me with a Christmas,’ she said.
I let go of Davina and Cara and they climbed off the wall as, after a moment’s hesitation, the woman got up, next to me.
‘He fell ill last year. Came out of the army several years ago. He’s never got over the trauma. During the last year he’s only been out of the house once. My job doesn’t pay much. I don’t like handouts. But Ron and the team don’t make you feel as if you’re sponging off society. They give us respect and dignity.’ She jerked her head over to Megan’s front garden. ‘I like to give back where I can so I’ve been doing the carol singing around town with Ron’s colleagues. I’m helping out because of what the food bank gives me, but you lot…’ A solitary tear ran down her face. ‘You don’t need to do anything – yet here you are, out in the cold probably spending money that you could do with saving for January bills. It means everything. Thanks from the bottom of my heart – from Callum’s too.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘We’ll think of you when we’re enjoying our Christmas pud.’
People teared up.
I stood up straight. ‘Before you all go, let’s raise three cheers for Birchwood Estate – and everyone else who has visited tonight,’ I said. ‘Plus the sponsors listed on the back of the map. The Birchwood Express for their article yesterday. The school for help with the printing…’
‘And for you, Fern,’ shouted Davina.
‘Hip, hip hooray,’ called Cara.
Ron came over and said a few words. The woman and I climbed down from the wall. Lily hugged me tight then we held hands and, laughing, whizzed around in a circle, celebrating good news in the way that we used to with Adam. Cara passed me a tissue. Davina straightened my woolly hat. Kit had disappeared and must have gone inside to change. Neighbours and locals drifted away. Parents helped tidy up. The carol singers left. Max and John carried the popcorn machine inside.
In the hubbub, Tommy got pushed over by Arlo. He went for Jasper when he got up. The three of them started to fight. Davina and Mia pulled them apart and gave them one last chance to be nice – if not they’d go straight home instead of coming into mine with Cara and Audrey for a drink to celebrate everything we’d accomplished.
The tension between the three boys had got worse over recent weeks. Neither mum could understand why and the children wouldn’t talk about it.
I stood on the front door step. Kit and Lily were picking up the last bit of litter. When they finished she took his hand and firmly led him towards me. The three of us went inside.
35
Davina, Cara and Mia sprawled on the sofa and the children on the floor. Kit collapsed into an armchair and, shoulders slouched, fiddled with his leather bracelet. I could tell Mia was avoiding his eye.
Cara had made the adults hot drinks, Audrey poured out orange squash for the kids. On the floor were bowls of crisps and grapes. Christmas pop music played in the background. Lex was babbling about the Lego bricks she hoped Father Christmas would bring her.
Her older sister, Hannah, wanted books. ‘I’ve loved the calendar,’ she said, ‘but it’s meant bedtime has been rushed
and we haven’t had many Christmas stories.’
‘But we have had lots of cakes and biscuits and drinks,’ said Arlo and Hannah grinned.
‘I’m sure Fern could make up a Christmas story, what with being a journalist,’ said Davina, sweetly. ‘I’m not usually one to put people on the spot but I’ve been feeling guilty about not reading many bedtime stories either, the last few weeks. How about it, Fern? Do your bit for making us parents feel less ashamed.’
‘At this short notice?’
‘Oh please,’ said Hannah and clapped her hands. The other children joined in.
I tried to glare at Davina but couldn’t because she was laughing so much.
‘All right,’ I said and rolled my eyes. ‘I’ll see what I can do. Just give me a few moments to call on the muse.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Lily.
‘Someone who inspires you,’ said Kit and stretched out his long legs. He beckoned to Lily to go over to him. She was having trouble unzipping her fleece.
‘What does inspire mean?’ asked Jasper.
Kit unzipped the fleece and Lily sat down again. ‘Say… a great footballer is always scoring goals. It makes you want to play better. And it might inspire you to practise more.’
‘It’s like Cara’s cooking,’ said Davina. ‘It’s always so delicious. Often I go home from her house and try out a different recipe because she’s inspired me.’
‘We know,’ said Arlo and groaned. ‘Those beetroot brownies tasted like soil.’
‘Blame my muse,’ she said and pointed to Cara who looked happier than she had done for weeks.
My eyes scanned Kit’s lush frame. Well, it was. Since I’d realised that I’d completely fallen for him, I no longer edited my romantic thoughts.
I thought over things he’d told me since our first meeting. A story started to form. I’d always enjoyed the challenge of working to a deadline and quickly my mind sifted through characters and plots. Fifteen minutes later I put down my drink. ‘Okay. Just a short story as it’s getting late…
‘One Christmas Eve Billy was sent to bed early, crying. He was finally falling asleep when bells jingled at the window. He drew open the curtains and looked out in amazement. An empty sleigh stood outside, attached to two reindeer that were kicking their hooves in the snow.
‘Father Christmas appeared in his room wearing his red suit and a smile. He wanted to know why Billy’s parents were so angry. The little boy told him he’d stolen money from them to keep up with his rich friends who had the latest computer game. Now he felt really guilty.
‘Father Christmas could tell Billy was sorry, so invited him to help out at the North Pole as the toy factory always needed new helpers. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of glittery magic elf dust. He threw it into the air. Sparkles lit up the bedroom and before he knew it, Billy was on the sleigh. It dodged stars and circled the moon. The reindeer were really clever. The air got colder as they got further north. Streaks of purple and green shimmered through the air. Finally, they reached the toy factory. Mrs Christmas fed the reindeer and checked over the sleigh whilst Billy and Father Christmas went inside.
‘Billy had never seen so many toys. There were towers of Lego, colouring pads by the thousands, a library of books and a jungle of cuddly toys. An elf came over with bright green eyes to match her suit and hat. She showed Billy how to wrap the presents. He worked hard and glowed from tip to toe when Father Christmas said what a speedy worker he was and gave him a cookie that, as he chewed, tasted like a three-course festive dinner.
‘The rest of the night was spent helping deliver gifts. Billy loved the whooshing sensation when he and Father Christmas dropped down chimneys. Finally, the sleigh pulled up outside his own house. There was one parcel left. It was the latest computer game. Father Christmas offered it to Billy.
‘But Billy couldn’t stop thinking about the last home they’d visited where a little girl lived. The peeling wallpaper. The shoes with so many scuffs. The empty fruit bowl. He thanked Santa but asked if he could swap the computer game for new shoes and food for the girl. Father Christmas smiled and threw elf dust into the air again. Billy found himself lying back in bed. The sound of jingle bells became more distant.
‘Footsteps ran up the stairs. The door burst open. His mum looked panicked. She’d been in earlier and couldn’t find him. She was so glad he was back. He didn’t get lots of presents the next day but Billy and his parents had a great time. His trip with Father Christmas had made him realise that things apart from gifts could make you happy – and that doing a bad thing didn’t make him a bad person and that he’d proved this through being kind and helping others.
I caught Kit’s eye. He’d been staring at me but quickly turned away.
‘That last line is what Daddy says in his book of advice,’ said Lily.
Yes. I’d remembered. It was worth repeating.
‘I wish Father Christmas would give me a ride on his sleigh,’ said Lex. ‘Even if I’d been naughty.’
Hannah shrugged. ‘Everyone deserves a second chance. That’s what our teacher always says.’
Jasper’s cheeks reddened. ‘Yes. Like when my friend Mark wasn’t looking and I took a chocolate bar from his lunch box. I… I didn’t mean anything by it. I just couldn’t help myself.’
‘It was stealing,’ said Davina. ‘And your teacher was quite right to get so angry.’
‘Did you get into trouble?’ asked Lily.
‘I felt awful the next day. Especially as Mark’s mum didn’t often give him anything sweet. I had an Easter egg left over and took it in for him.’
‘After I’d checked with his parents that was okay,’ added Davina.
‘Mark was ace and said he might have done the same.’
Audrey looked at Cara. ‘Second chances. We all need those sometimes.’
‘Did you ever upset your parents, Mum?’ asked Jasper.
Davina laughed. ‘Many times.’
‘What was the worst?’
Davina didn’t need to think. ‘I took the car for a drive, without their permission. I hadn’t passed my test yet. A friend my age accompanied me. I panicked at a turning. The car got smashed.’
‘Wow. Were you hurt?’ asked Arlo?
‘No. And I’ve never forgotten – instead of being angry, my parents’ first concern was that I was okay.’
‘Didn’t Daddy once take up skydiving, Mum?’ said Lily. ‘I remember you telling me. Grandpa and Nanna got very angry.’
‘Yes, but only because they loved him.’
‘It’s like when John went travelling alone in Asia, the year before university,’ said Audrey. ‘We thought it was reckless. Looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t speak to him for a whole week before he left. I was just so worried.’
‘What about you Mr Carlton?’ said Lily. ‘Have you ever hurt your parents?’
He stared for a minute. ‘Yes. Yes, I have.’
‘Mr Carlton looks like he’s about to cry,’ said Tommy in a sneery sing-song voice and everyone looked at Kit.
36
‘Tommy! Apologise immediately,’ Mia hissed.
‘Won’t.’ His bottom lip stuck out.
‘No, he’d never cry,’ said Jasper. ‘He is so strong and clever. I couldn’t do my maths without him. I want to be like you when I’m older, Mr Carlton. No one would bother me. I could fight baddies and outsmart them. Crying… is for babies or girls, right?’
‘Can’t remember the last time I cried,’ said Hannah and threw a grape at Jasper.
‘Hannah, behave yourself,’ said Cara.
Audrey got to her feet. ‘Perhaps we should get going. My back is twingeing and the children must be tired.’
‘I agree,’ said Cara. ‘Right, girls, get your coats. Well done, Fern, you smashed it tonight. You’ve been amazing, coordinating the last twenty-three nights.’ She leant close and spoke softly. ‘Call me later, if you need a chat after you’ve spoken to him.’ She went over to Kit and held out
her hand. ‘Good luck for the future, Mr Carlton.’
‘Cheers. Happy Christmas.’
I walked them to the doorway.
‘Come and see us as soon as you get back from London,’ said Cara.
‘Can we come for dinner?’ asked Lily. ‘That chocolate log you were talking about, with holly on the top, sounds really cool.’
‘Lily!’ I said but Cara and Audrey laughed. I gave them both a hug and went back into the lounge. Davina followed, carrying the twins’ outdoor garments.
‘Do you mind if I have a word with the boys for a moment?’ asked Kit.
Davina looked at me and shrugged.
‘Lily, can you say goodbye to your friends and go and get ready for bed,’ I said.
‘But Mr Carlton… it’s the last time I’ll—’
‘I’ll call you just before he leaves. Get changed into your pyjamas, love, and I’ve laid out the small suitcase in your room. You can start putting things in it to take to Gran and Granddad’s.’
Reluctantly she got up, waved to Tommy and the twins before leaving the room. Footsteps sounded, slowly climbing the stairs. The boys sat cross-legged. Arlo was the only one who met Kit’s eye.
‘Where has this come from?’ asked Kit, gently. ‘The idea that men don’t cry?’
Jasper pursed his lips.
‘Tommy?’ asked Mia sharply.
You could almost hear the tiny flakes of snow that had started to fall outside and parachute onto the ground.
Arlo glared at Tommy. ‘Go on. Tell them,’ he said.
Mia leant forward. ‘Tell us what?’
Jasper looked sideways at Tommy who’d turned bright red.
‘It’s all right. No one’s in trouble,’ said Kit. ‘I’m just interested because I heard you three talking about this in the playground the other day – or rather shouting. I don’t see anything wrong with showing my emotion. I’m not a robot. I’ve got feelings.’
‘Tears make you weak…’ said Jasper.
Davina let out an exasperated snort. ‘Enough! Where has this rubbish come from, because it’s certainly not me or Max? You’ve seen your daddy cry several times like… like when Uncle Terry died.’
The Christmas Calendar Girls Page 23