Christmas Cakes and Mistletoe Nights

by Carole Matthews

  I check the rest of the damage caused by the leak and it doesn’t get better. The cupboards in the galley are swollen with water ingress and I can’t even open the doors. They’ll need to come out. The little shower room is full of black mould and, quite frankly, you could grow mushrooms on most of the surfaces they’re so soggy.

  With a heavy heart, I lock up again and trudge up the garden to the house. When I open the door, Lija is already in the kitchen.

  ‘You look like shit,’ Lija says.

  ‘I didn’t sleep,’ I tell her. ‘Stan’s sofa wasn’t as accommodating as I’d hoped.’

  ‘How is Stan?’

  ‘A bit better, I think. Still not out of the woods yet.’

  She pulls a confused face. ‘What woods?’

  ‘It’s a figure of speech. It means I’m still concerned about him.’

  ‘Ah. Why did you not say that?’

  As I’m on the verge of tears, I don’t even try to explain and Lija doesn’t press the point. ‘I thought I’d take him some breakfast.’ There’s already the scent of cooking bacon in the kitchen and it’s making me feel hungry.

  ‘Oven is full of bacon, sausage,’ Lija says. ‘Take what you need. Maybe scrambled egg is good?’

  ‘I think that would be perfect.’ I move to put the kettle on, then check myself. ‘Do you mind if I make some tea?’

  ‘Stop keep asking this and that,’ she snaps. ‘You will become annoying person.’ She slams a plate of toast onto the table. I pinch a bit and earn myself a tut.

  ‘Sorry, sorry.’ I put the kettle on. ‘Want one?’

  Lija nods. ‘Coffee. Give me plenty caffeine.’

  While I wait for it to boil, I say, ‘I didn’t know that you’d started doing breakfast too.’ Again, I feel piqued that everything is changing and I didn’t know.

  ‘One month ago. Is very busy. Full English. Eggs Benedict. My own granola. All of the things.’

  ‘I’m very impressed. It must be a lot of hard work.’ No wonder she looks tired and is even more tetchy than usual. ‘You need help.’ There was talk of one of Lija’s friends doing a few days a week, but it never quite worked out.

  ‘I have help.’

  ‘You do? Who? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Even as I ask a bubbly teenager bursts into the kitchen from the dining room.

  ‘Hiya!’ she shouts. ‘Lija said you were back. TOTALLY fabulous!’ She throws herself at me and gives me a bear hug. ‘OMG! You’ve been on a canal boat and EVERYTHING. I’ve never been on a canal boat. My brother was going to hire one for the day once, but he didn’t. He went on the train to Brighton instead. It’s lovely, Brighton. They have the most amazing chocolate shop. I haven’t been though. Someone told me. It might have been my nan. Or I might have seen it on Countryfile. We only watch that because my nan likes it. Brighton’s the country, right?’

  Lija glowers. ‘Meet Rainbow.’

  ‘Hello,’ I say, slightly nonplussed and still enveloped in her arms.

  Rainbow is big and round with chubby cheeks like pink apples. She has huge blue eyes and blonde curls form some sort of mad halo round her head and then tumble down to her shoulders. It looks as if she’s been modelled on a Cabbage Patch Kid. She’s wearing the shortest, tightest black Lycra skirt I’ve ever seen and I think her blouse is at least two sizes too small. Every button is straining across her comely chest and it’s a miracle that they don’t pop open and take out someone’s eye.

  ‘I’ve only been here for four weeks and two days,’ Rainbow chirps. ‘All the people are so nice. Well, most of them. There was one woman, all designer and stuff and EVERYTHING and she wasn’t nice.’ Whenever she says EVERYTHING, her eyes go round and wide. ‘But that’s not unusual, is it? She had a HERMÉS handbag. I’d never seen one in real life before. I’d only ever seen one on, like, TOWIE or something.’

  I have no idea what TOWIE is, but I’m not sure that it matters.

  ‘OMG. I LOVE it here!’ Rainbow does a face that says Squeeeeee.

  ‘Great.’ I’m not sure what else to say.

  ‘Two full English for table five,’ she trills over her shoulder at Lija. ‘One with the bacon really, really crispy, no tomato. One with EVERYTHING. I like my bacon crispy too. Do you? My nan cuts the fat off for me because it’s better for you like that. Even though I actually like the fat. That’s the BEST bit.’

  Finally, she lets go of me and I can breathe again. Then she swipes the pile of fresh toast off the kitchen table. ‘Back in a jiff!’ Rainbow bounces out of the kitchen.

  ‘Saying nothing,’ Lija instructs.

  It takes me a moment to find words. ‘She’s very … er … bubbly.’

  ‘Customers love her.’

  ‘I can imagine.’ She seems the most unlikely person for Lija to recruit, but she’s certainly very jolly.

  I’m not actually sure how to put this. ‘She doesn’t really seem like the type of person that you’d be naturally drawn to.’

  ‘Were two applicants for job,’ Lija grumbles. ‘Other woman had body odour.’

  ‘Ah. She seems really lovely though. Chatty.’

  Lija gives a death stare after her new employee. ‘Too fucking cheerful.’

  Chapter Ten

  I take Stan some scrambled eggs on toast. Just a little bit. But he seems a lot brighter this morning. I haven’t discussed Lija’s idea of him moving into Canal House while he’s poorly. To be honest, I think there’s too much going on there now. It’s lovely that the atmosphere is bustling – even at breakfast – but it’s not conducive to recuperation from illness. Stan needs lots of peace and quiet, plenty of rest and TLC.

  Instead, I’ll just keep nipping backwards and forwards as much as I can. In between visits, he can sleep, read, and generally gather his strength again. Plus I want to give Lija a hand too, even though she insists that she and Rainbow can manage. In my view, it’s way too much for two people to cope with. Even when the café is closed, Lija still has the baking to do. I bet she’s putting in horrendously long days. I know, because I once did the same.

  I switch Stan’s radio on for him. ‘Sleep as much as you can,’ I tell him. ‘That’s the quickest way to get you up and about again. I’ll find Anthony’s electric razor for you. I’m sure he left one in the drawer at the house. You can have a shave then. It’ll make you feel better.’

  ‘I was quite liking my new hipster look,’ Stan quips.

  Bless him. I don’t like to tell him he’s more Worzel Gummidge than hipster. ‘I’ll run you a nice bath, if you think you can manage.’

  ‘A little later,’ Stan says. ‘I feel tired after eating.’

  ‘At least you’ve managed something though.’ He’s so different to how Miranda was as a patient. Stan’s so grateful for anything you do. ‘It’s a lovely morning out there. Freezing cold, but it looks great.’

  ‘The years go by so quickly,’ Stan says. ‘It only seems a minute ago since it was summer.’

  ‘I’m glad we caught the last of the good weather on the canal. We were so lucky.’ I make sure his curtains are drawn wide so that he can see out to the water. It’s nice to watch the boats going past, the busy wildlife. ‘I had some good news last night. Danny’s coming back soon. His job finished sooner than we expected – which isn’t so great. But I’m glad he’ll be on his way. We wanted to be here with you and Lija for Christmas.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Stan says. ‘It will be nice to have company.’

  In the past he’s joined me, Miranda and Anthony for Christmas lunch but it was never a very jolly affair. Miranda fully embraced the concept of ‘Bah humbug’ and Anthony was Scrooge personified. This year I vow it will be different. We’re going to have a lovely Christmas if it kills me doing it. If we can manage it, I’d love to have Christmas Day lunch on The Dreamcatcher. Danny and I will have to give some thought to the logistics and I want to decorate her beautifully too.

  I leave Stan to have another snooze and the rest of the day goes by in a blur. I help Lija and Rainbow in th
e café. There’s a steady stream of customers and the Christmas afternoon tea is proving a particular hit. Even now, in early November, we have a full house. It seems that Lija has given the café a new lease of life – which is great – but I can’t help but feel slightly saddened that my presence hasn’t been more missed. This is most definitely her place now.

  I quickly check on Stan at lunchtime and feed him some soup, then I spend the afternoon baking – cranberry and white chocolate muffins and a couple of Victoria sponges which I sprinkle with icing sugar through a stencil in the shape of a snowflake. Next thing, I turn round and it’s already teatime. We’re all in the kitchen, glad that the last of the customers has left for the day and doing the last of the washing up. I’m washing, Lija is drying and Rainbow is putting the dried dishes away while keeping up a constant stream of conversation that doesn’t appear to require our input.

  ‘I’ve seen her before,’ she says to no one in particular. I think both Lija and I have tuned out the majority of it by now. ‘At the pub. Not with the same bloke. This one’s MUCH better. I think he knows my brother. They’re both bikers. She works at the hairdresser’s in whatsisname. I wish I’d had my nails done.’ She checks her manicure and the resulting frown on her pretty, doll-like face and pout of her strawberry lips show that she finds it wanting. ‘Did you see how much she ATE? OMG. All the cakes and scones and EVERYTHING.’ Wide eyes. ‘I wish I could shove it away like that. She’s probably a size EIGHT when she’s wet through. I hate that. A lot of blokes like big girls though, don’t they? Our dog’s on a diet. My nan gets him low-calorie food from the vet. Costs a FORTUNE.’

  Lija has been on her feet now since first thing this morning. I don’t think I’ve even seen her eat. She never looks the picture of rude health and, against the fulsome bounciness of Rainbow, she seems positively deathly.

  I take the tea towel from Lija’s hands. ‘Sit down,’ I instruct. ‘You look dead on your feet. Rainbow and I can finish up here.’

  For once, she doesn’t argue and sits, gratefully, at the kitchen table. There’s some quiche left over from lunch and I cut her a slice, put it on a plate and slide it towards her. She picks up a fork and, hesitantly, starts to eat it.

  ‘Thank you, Fay.’

  ‘I’m going to the movies tonight with my bezzie, Luna,’ Rainbow continues, unabated. ‘I don’t know what we’re watching. It’s her turn to pick. I think something with Superman is on. Do you think he was a real person? You don’t see men in tights now, do you? Not unless they’re transgender or WHATEVER. I go to that gay and transgender club in Fenny even though I’m not gay or transgender. They don’t seem to mind. Have you seen the price of popcorn? OMG! It’s WELL expensive. We get the popcorn and a bucket of cola and EVERYTHING. That’s what you go to the flicks for, right? I like those spicy cracker things that have cheese sauce on that’s like custard, but they make Luna want to PUKE.’ She makes noises like a cat puking. ‘My nan says she can’t understand why people these days can’t sit through a film without eating and EVERYTHING. I don’t even know if they had films when she was young. She’s WELL old. They probably just had to watch telly and STUFF.’

  I smile when I ask, ‘Did they have electricity then?’

  Rainbow gapes at me. ‘Dunno. Do tellies even need electricity? I thought you just got Sky and NETFLIX?’

  Lija’s face is getting whiter and whiter. I’m not sure if it’s with exhaustion or simmering anger.

  ‘You can go now, Rainbow,’ I say, diplomatically. ‘I’ll finish up for you.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ she says. ‘I only need to be home in time for Hollyoaks. My nan watches Gogglebox, but Dad can’t stand it. I liked it when the posh people who drank too much were on it. You don’t see them now. Have they gone? Sometimes they do that but then there’s a big fuss on TWITTER and they come back. They might get their own series and EVERYTHING.’

  I take the stack of plates from her. ‘It’s fine. I’ll do it.’

  ‘I could set the tables for tomorrow, if you like. My nan’s got real silver knives and forks that you have to polish all the time. ALL the time. She has a special cloth. I don’t know where she gets them from. Who wants to do that? Except my nan, obvs. Nan likes IKEA. They’ve got EVERYTHING in there. You could LIVE in it! They don’t say it like we do in Sweden. That’s where IKEA comes from. They say it like ICKYIER or something. Like it’s ICKY. In Sweden they have chocolate called PLOP. I saw it on Facebook.’

  ‘See you tomorrow, Rainbow.’ While she’s still talking, I slowly back her out of the door. At the last minute she grabs her coat from the hook and her handbag from the floor.

  ‘Bye, Lija. Bye, Fay. Love you.’ Rainbow holds her fingers up to form a heart. ‘I can come in early in the morning, if you like. I get up at SIX to walk the dog, so it’s not a problem. I’ve always been an early bird. The rest of my family would stay in bed ALL day if they could.’

  When she steps outside, I close the back door quickly. She waves madly at me and I wave back. Then I turn to Lija and we both burst out laughing – a rare thing for my friend.

  ‘Where on earth did you find her?’ I say when we’ve stopped chuckling. ‘She’s adorable, but MAN can she talk.’

  ‘Is like verbal diarrhoea. It pours from her all time in unstoppable torrent.’

  ‘She seems very willing,’ I note.

  ‘I may kill her.’ Lija puts her head in her hands.

  I make more tea and sit down opposite my friend. I push a cup towards her. ‘This feels like old times.’

  She smiles wanly.

  ‘It’s great that you’ve got so many new ideas,’ I venture. ‘But this is a lot for you to take on.’

  Lija says nothing.

  ‘You’re coping all right?’

  A tight shrug. ‘The bills are high and I want to pay off my aunt.’ Lija borrowed the money to buy Canal House from a dodgy aunt in Russia. ‘I have to work long hours to do that.’

  ‘I know. And I understand. But you look a bit peaky, if you don’t mind me saying. I wouldn’t like to see you work yourself into the ground while you’re doing it. You’ll end up like me.’

  She risks another smile at that. ‘You have done OK. For old lady.’

  ‘Yes. I guess I have.’ I touch her hand and she doesn’t pull it away. ‘Let me help you when I can though.’

  ‘You are here,’ she says. ‘You are helping.’

  I stifle the sigh that I’d like to vocalise. When Lija decides that she’s not going to let you in, then nothing will change her mind. ‘I’ll go to see Stan, then I’m going to have a long, hot bath. If that’s all right with you.’

  She shoots me a look.

  I hold up my hands. ‘I know, I know. Tu casa es mi casa and EVERYTHING.’ We both smile at that. ‘I don’t have to ask. I’m just being polite. It’s my nature.’

  ‘Is very annoying. Let me straighten out. You can use bath, toilet, milk in fridge, food in cupboard. You can have shower, lie in bed, sit on sofa, use garden and cooker. You can have sex up against wall. OK?’

  ‘Yes, lovely. Thank you. I’m not sure that your last point is going to be an issue, but I do appreciate it, Lija.’ I stand up and head for the door. ‘After my bath, I’ll make supper for you and we can sit and have a good catch-up together. I’m sure there’s lots for you tell me.’

  She looks a bit shifty. ‘Not so much.’

  ‘Then I can bore you to death with all my adventures on the canal.’

  ‘Don’t make it too smoochy,’ she warns. ‘I may be sick.’ She mimics Rainbow’s cat puking noises, then looks as if she might regret it.

  With that, I go upstairs, run myself a nice, hot bath and use Lija’s wild thyme and raspberry leaf bath soak without even asking her. So there.

  Chapter Eleven

  After my bath, I quickly check on Stan. He’s more than happy listening to the radio and he eats the freshly made ham sandwich and small slice of lemon drizzle cake that I take him with a pleasing degree of enthusiasm.
Lija’s lovely baking will soon help to put roses back into his cheeks. I fuss round and tidy his bed while chatting to him, then rush back to Canal House in time to make our own tea.

  I do miss this spacious kitchen. It’s more like a sprawling farmhouse kitchen than one suited to a squat, red brick, 1920’s house. My baking has certainly suffered since I’ve been on The Dreamcatcher with its one tiny oven. I have to be super organised to cook a roast dinner for two. There used to be nothing I liked better than doing a big batch bake for the café and seeing every surface covered with cakes, scones, quiches and whatever was on the menu that day. Now that’s Lija’s prerogative.

  As I’m setting the kitchen table, Lija comes in. Her hair is freshly washed and she looks as if she’s been in the shower. The oversized sweatshirt she’s wearing only serves to accentuate just how thin she is.

  ‘Very romantic,’ she says.

  I’ve cut some stems of clematis with their heavy seed heads and have put them in a jam jar on the table. ‘I just wanted to make it nice.’

  There’s a wine box in the fridge and I pour us both a glass. ‘Cheers.’

  Lija clinks her glass against mine but doesn’t drink. Then I make two fluffy cheese omelettes for us both and serve them up with a green salad.

  ‘Healthy shit,’ she says, taking a tentative bite. ‘Good.’

  ‘Thank you.’ It’s nice to relax with Lija. Takes me back to old times. Even though Danny and I have only been on the canal for a short time, it seems as if we’ve been gone for ever. ‘Have you missed me?’

  Lija shrugs and admits, reluctantly, ‘Some.’

  ‘Up until his illness has Stan been all right?’

  ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘He is here all the time. Day in, day out. But is cool. I like him around. Despite occasional stinky smell.’ She pushes her fork through her salad. ‘He did not want to stay?’

  ‘I didn’t actually ask him yet,’ I confess. ‘At the moment, I think he needs a bit of peace and quiet. Until he’s stronger, all the comings and goings might be a bit much for him.’