by Emma Davies
‘Wouldn’t be Christmas without them would it?’ he smiled, fishing in his pocket for some change. I could listen to them for hours.’
‘Me too. I don’t know why but they always bring a lump to my throat. I think it’s the thought that amid all the horrible things that happen in this world there are still people like them who help, without question, without judgment. That’s what I like about Christmas, the reminder that there is still good in the world. Sometimes it seems so far away.’
‘There are still good people in the world Freya,’ he said.
‘I know,’ she said, moving her fingers in his, and blinking away her tears.
They stood listening for a few moments more, then Sam pulled her gently away, leading her to a stall selling nuts of every variety coated in delicious sounding ingredients, savoury and sweet. Sam bought some spiced honey cashews which they munched from the twisted cone of paper, each time Freya dropping Sam’s hand to take one, and each time reuniting it with his.
She almost didn’t go into the shop at all. She thought if she kept walking and didn’t think about it then it would be fine, but suddenly the thought of not going in became too much to bear, and she pushed the door open almost with reverence. It was always the same as she stood inside for the first few moments. Always that first rush of excitement and endless possibility looming up at her as she stared at every manner of bauble and decoration, assailed by the shapes and colours, the sheer variety. They would wander around at first, in no particular direction, her dad going one way and she the other, and then they would meet up for an excited exchange of what the other had seen. Eventually they would gravitate towards one of the displays as if drawn by an invisible thread and the selection would begin in earnest. They had bought a new Christmas decoration together every year since her mum had left. It was their special bond, a celebration of another year, and although she wasn’t going to decorate the house this year, it was a tradition that she simply couldn’t bring to an end. Whatever she bought would remain on her bedside table until it too was packed away.
Almost as soon as they were through the door Sam dropped her hand and headed off to take a closer look at something that had caught his eye. The shop wasn’t busy now and she was happy to wander alone, pleased to find that the usual sense of wonderment she felt on coming inside was still with her.
She had paused by a display of neon decorations, which were gaudy but strangely attractive when she became aware that Sam was hovering by her side.
‘This place is amazing,’ he said. ‘How did you find it?’
‘I can’t remember, just stumbled across it one year. It’s only here at Christmas of course, the rest of the year it sells giftware.’
‘Are you going to buy something?’
‘I’d like to … it’s sort of a tradition.’
Sam gave an understanding nod. ‘How on earth do you choose though?’
‘I don’t know really. The one I want seems to find me.’
‘Ok, well happy hunting.’ He grinned at her and wandered off again.
Freya had only moved a little way around the corner when he was back again, almost fizzing with excitement.
‘You need to come over here,’ he urged, and grabbed her hand, not caring about the other shoppers in their path.
They were near the back of the shop now, standing in front of a small section of more expensive decorations, all made from the most beautiful glass, a myriad of colours and sizes. Her eyes scanned this way and that, and then she saw it, seconds before Sam’s hand reached out to take it gingerly down from its hiding place. It was about the size of an apple, a handmade glass ornament of pale cranberry glass, a single perfect white feather curled within it in perfect suspension. Her breath caught in her throat as she reached out a trembling hand to take it.
‘What do you think?’ asked Sam anxiously.
Freya held her breath, hardly daring to move. ‘I can’t believe you found it,’ she said, her voice choked with emotion. ‘This is it; this is absolutely it.’ She turned to him, her eyes shining. ‘How did you know?’
‘I didn’t, I saw it … and it just seemed … right. Like the sort of thing you should have.’
Freya was still gazing at the ornament in her hand. ‘Can we buy it?’ She asked, handing it back to him. ‘Is it very expensive?’
Sam cleared his throat which felt a little constricted. ‘It’s twenty pounds. I’m sorry, I should have checked the price first, but Freya …’ He faltered for a moment, trying to find the right words, ‘I want you to have this … I’d like to buy it for you … please.’
She paused for a moment, but then to his surprise, she gave a slight nod. ‘I’d like that,’ she said looking up at him. ‘Because then I’ll have something to remember you by too.’ And she did something she’d sworn she’d never do again. She kissed him.
‘I don’t want to sound rude Amos, but I was wondering what your plans for Christmas were?’
Amos looked up from his book and gave her a warm smile. The light from the fire was flickering softly on her face, but she still looked tired. ‘Not rude at all,’ he said. ‘It’s a busy time of year, only natural that you would want to know.’ He placed his bookmark back in the book and laid it on his lap. ‘I’ve been thinking about it too as it happens, and I thought maybe I would go at the end of the week if that’s alright with you? The work will pretty much be done by then and there’s heavy snow coming in after.’
‘Is there?’ Freya replied, surprised. ‘I hadn’t heard that … but … what I meant was more, well, whether you had definite plans, that sort of thing. Do you have somewhere you’re meant to be?’
Amos considered the question for a moment. ‘No, nowhere I’m meant to be, but often the place I am, well, it’s the same thing.’
Freya grinned, giving an amused tut at his enigmatic answer. She was beginning to expect nothing less from him. ‘Good, because what I really meant was, if you don’t have to be anywhere in particular, would you like to stay here for Christmas? It won’t be very grand because everything will be in boxes but I’d like it if you were here.’
‘Then I accept,’ replied Amos. ‘Thank you. I didn’t like the thought of you here by yourself. It didn’t seem right.’
Freya stared into the fire for a moment. ‘No, me neither,’ she said finally, giving a huge yawn. ‘I might head up to bed now actually. I’m so tired, and it’s going to take me an age to get ready anyway.’
‘Do you need anything?’
‘No, it’s fine thanks, I’ll just take my book.’ She eyed the glass bauble sitting on the mantelpiece.
‘I could bring it up for you if you like?’ ventured Amos, watching her.
She smiled again. ‘Sorry, I just thought I might have it beside my bed.’
‘Then that’s where you shall have it.’
When her head eventually met the pillow she lay for a few moments looking at the bauble lost in thought. This morning she had wished that she could be on her own for Christmas. She had thought she wanted nothing more than to see out the last few days at Appleyard by herself so that she could say her own goodbyes, but something had changed during the course of the day. She’d realised it in the car driving home earlier that afternoon, and she was trying desperately hard not to admit it to herself. Perhaps having Amos stay would help to keep the thoughts chasing around her head at bay. Perhaps. She closed her eyes and willed sleep to come and claim her.
2 Days to go…
‘And here’s another festive treat for this fine Monday morning to get you in the mood. After all the big day is only four days away.’
Sam switched the radio off irritably, he didn’t need any more bloody reminders of how little time he had left. The last week or so had passed in a blur. He drained his coffee mug and stared morosely at the toaster. He was due back at Appleyard tomorrow to help with more packing, and although he had no great expectations of the day at least it meant he wouldn’t have to suffer Stephen’s smug comments at home. He co
uld hear him now, arguing on the phone with someone. It was only nine o’clock in the morning for God’s sake.
He concentrated on buttering his toast, trying to ignore his brother’s strident tones as they grew louder. Stephen was still a little wary around him since getting punched, but it didn’t stop him from reminding Sam at every given opportunity how soon it would be before he owned Appleyard too.
‘Have a heart mate, even the wankers – sorry, bankers – don’t work at the weekend. I’m doing the best I can. My man’s on it believe me and I’m expecting to hear from him later today.’ Stephen paused for a moment, nodding intermittently. ‘Yes of course, I will, cheers Paul.’
He ended the call, pulling an exasperated face at Sam. ‘That man has no fucking idea, but you have to keep ’em sweet don’t you?’
‘Do you?’ countered Sam. ‘I really wouldn’t know,’ he added, feigning disinterest, although the mention of the name Paul had caught his ear. He knew better than to quiz his brother though; that was the quickest way to get him to clam up.
‘Course I wouldn’t have a problem if your doe-eyed little girlfriend wasn’t being quite so picky.’
Sam said nothing, but his eyes glittered dangerously.
‘Oh, of course, she’s not your girlfriend is she, sorry.’ Stephen smirked. ‘Anyway give her a message from me would you. Tell her to pull her socks up on the sale; we’re running out of time. Her bloody solicitor won’t progress until he has written confirmation of the mortgage offer, and we haven’t got time to be pissing around.’
‘That’s standard practise I believe, Stephen. Haven’t you done your homework?’
Stephen swiped a piece of toast. ‘Just bloody tell her,’ he growled, and stalked off.
Sam allowed a small smile to curl around the corners of his lips, he liked to see his brother riled, especially when it forced him to show his cards. He hadn’t known until now that Stephen needed a mortgage to buy Appleyard; which was interesting. For the first time in a long time he saw a way that he might just be able to outmanoeuvre his brother. He would call his solicitor as soon as Stephen was out of the way.
1 Day to go…
Amos and Freya had already made good progress by the time Sam got there, having sorted another whole section of the attic. When he found them, Freya was holding up some threadbare tinsel that had discoloured to a diseased-looking green. She held it between thumb and forefinger, in case whatever it had was catching.
‘When you said you weren’t going to bother putting up the decorations I thought you were being boring, now I can see why. That’s pretty disturbing.’
‘Morning Sam.’ Freya laughed. ‘It is isn’t it? I think the box must have got damp, it’s all like this which is a shame because I was looking forward to putting these out.’ She fished inside the box and pulled out two very moth-eaten looking reindeer, which at one time in their lives had been furry but now had a severe case of alopecia. ‘I’d forgotten we even had them.’
‘Blanked it from your memory probably,’ said Sam with a shudder. ‘Stuff of nightmares.’
‘Look, are you going to stand there criticising my family heirlooms, or make yourself useful and cart this lot over there with the rest of the rubbish?’
‘Yes ma’am,’ grinned Sam, picking up a box. ‘Being serious for a minute though, are you going to put anything up this year? It seems such a shame not to do anything, especially as tomorrow is Mistletoe Day.’
‘But it’s just one more thing to have to do, when I could leave it all in its boxes, ready and packed.’
‘It wouldn’t take long … and we’d help, wouldn’t we Amos?’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, you’re as bad as him,’ she said, pointing a finger. ‘Okay, you win. Take the stuff downstairs and leave it in the dining room, and then I can decide. It’s those boxes over there,’ she added, wafting her good hand at a pile by the door.
Sam did as he was told, a plan forming in his mind.
The dining room was stacked high with boxes already packed, and it took a few minutes to move the others around to make way for those coming down. He was trying hard not to think about what they meant, and how little time he had left. He pulled his mobile out of his pocket as it buzzed with a message. It was from his brother, three words in block capitals. ‘CALL ME NOW.’ Sam clicked the sleep button, watching with satisfaction as the screen went dark again. Oops, he said to himself. I missed that one.
He was just moving the last few boxes when Amos appeared with another couple.
‘These are all decorations too,’ he said, putting them down where Sam indicated. ‘Just in case they’re needed at all,’ he added, winking. ‘You must tell me about the customs of Mistletoe Day sometime. It sounds fascinating.’
Sam laughed. ‘As if you didn’t know. You don’t fool me Amos Fry.’
‘And you don’t fool me either Sam Henderson,’ grinned Amos. ‘One other thing though. Can I suggest that we go and get the shopping fairly soon, there’s snow coming and I don’t think we should leave it too late.’
The day outside was clear and blue, just as it had been for days. ‘I know it’s nearly Christmas but that doesn’t mean it’s going to start snowing. Have you looked outside?’
‘Yes, and I know that snow hasn’t actually been forecast.’
‘But?’
Amos winked again. ‘I tell you it’s coming.’
‘Okaaay,’ said Sam, humouring him. ‘Let’s go and grab the rest of these boxes and then we’ll see about putting a list together. Not because I believe a word you’re saying about the snow but because the supermarket will be like your worst nightmare and I’d rather not leave it any longer.’
Sam had a total of four more text messages and two missed calls by the time they eventually emerged from the supermarket hours later. Freya had wanted to come but Sam insisted she stayed at home. There would be too many people around all pushing and shoving and he thought she’d find it very uncomfortable. Instead, she had provided them with a list that made the Declaration of Independence look like a scribbled note on the back of a napkin. The list contained things that neither Sam nor Amos had ever heard of, but they had been determined to find everything she asked for.
Now, with the bags stashed safely in the boot, Sam pulled out his phone to look at the messages again, and tried to concentrate. The texts were all from his brother, more shouty messages, getting more ridiculously threatening by the minute. Sam had no intention of answering them. This was not his battle to fight he had decided; not this time. He had assumed that the missed call was also from Stephen, but although there was no message left, he recognised the number, and checking Amos was okay to wait, he returned the call.
‘That was good news I take it?’ said Amos, looking at the Cheshire cat grin on Sam’s face.
‘The very best,’ he replied. ‘Do you mind if we make a quick detour on the way home? There’s one last shop I need to visit. Got my Christmas present to pick up.’
Amos glanced at the sky. ‘No problem, we’ve still got time.’
The High Street was packed with people, but by some miracle Sam managed to find a parking spot in a side street and nipped out to finish his shopping.
‘I won’t be long I promise.’
It was gone three o’clock by the time they navigated their way out of the car-choked streets and began to head for home. They were only a couple of miles into their journey when Sam took his sunglasses off. The late sun, hanging low in the sky made visibility particularly difficult at this time of year, and he never went anywhere without them. Now, though, he realised he was having trouble seeing, not because of the glare, but because of the sudden reduction in light. He dipped his head to look below the sun visor, shaking his head as he did so. The sky was split in two; one half still the brightest winter blue, and the other banked with dark clouds sporting an ominous pink tinge.
‘I don’t bloody believe it,’ he remarked, driving on.
As he drove, the line of cloud sank lower an
d lower to the ground, and by the time they turned into the driveway at Appleyard the first flakes of snow were falling.
‘So what is it with you then Amos; got a direct line to the big man upstairs or what?’
Amos gave him an innocent look.
‘Don’t give me that look, you know what I’m talking about, the whole “snow is coming” thing.’
‘My bones have been around longer than yours that’s all.’ He grinned. ‘They sense these things.’
‘Bullshit!’ said Sam succinctly, and jumped out of the car to haul the first of the shopping inside.
Freya was chopping vegetables by the sink, or at least she was trying to. She had a carrot pinned to a board under her cast and was slowly making progress with her good hand. She looked up as they came in.
‘I got bored sifting through the papers upstairs so I thought I’d make a start on tea. It’s taken me rather longer than I thought though.’
‘Interesting technique,’ said Sam.
‘But strangely effective, so don’t mock.’
He dumped the first of the bags on the table and went to inspect the pans on top of the stove.
‘That’s not what I can smell though,’ he said, lifting one of the saucepan lids, and inhaling deeply.
‘No, I made some mulled wine for later too. I thought we’d have a casserole, and as it took me so long to get the wine open I thought I might as well use it all up.’
‘I like your thinking,’ said Sam, ‘although I wish I’d been here. I’d have paid good money to see you trying to get into a bottle of wine.’
Freya gave him an amused look. ‘Yes, well, if you were clamped between my knees for that long, you’d surrender too.’
Sam turned away so that she wouldn’t see the smile on his face. My, that was a vivid image.
‘Right well I’ll help Amos bring the rest of the shopping in, and then I’ll give you a hand. We bought enough to feed an army.’