Christmas Cakes and Mistletoe Nights

by Carole Matthews

  ‘It’s peaceful.’

  She snorts.

  ‘I’m sure it will take you a few days to adjust, but try to go with the flow. You’ve only got to put up with it for a few weeks and then you can head right back to the bright city lights and party central.’

  Edie hugs a cushion and starts to pick at the embroidery with her long, perfectly manicured nails. ‘What shall we do then?’

  ‘We’ve got some jigsaws and board games.’

  ‘You’re kidding me. That reminds me of the holidays we had when we were kids. And not in a good way. It would be me, you, Mum and Dad squashed on that bloody skanky old boat.’ She’s referring to the Maid of Merryweather who might be skanky now but was beautiful in her heyday when we took all of our family holidays on her. ‘We’d sit looking out at the pissing down rain. Mum and I would hate every minute while you and Dad were in your element.’

  ‘Nothing much has changed then.’

  ‘Were we even happy as kids?’ she asks. ‘I barely remember it really. I was always Mum’s favourite and you were Dad’s.’

  We know why now.

  ‘Good God, now I’m getting maudlin as well as bored. What do you do to distract yourselves? Apart from have hot sex?’

  I ignore the jibe and say, ‘Sometimes we read.’

  ‘I haven’t read a book since I left school,’ Edie confesses. ‘I don’t intend to start now.’

  ‘Oh, Edie.’

  ‘I flick through Vogue at the hairdresser’s. Does that count?’

  Danny yawns again. ‘I do need an early night,’ he says. ‘I’ve had a busy day today and I’ve got the same tomorrow.’

  ‘Me too,’ I agree.

  ‘So it’s just me drifting around aimlessly?’

  ‘You could help us at the café while you’re here,’ I suggest. ‘I’m sure Lija wouldn’t mind. You seemed to enjoy it today.’

  ‘Enjoying it might be a bit of a stretch,’ she counters. ‘I didn’t want to gouge my own eyes out though.’

  I’ll settle for that. ‘I’ll have a word with Lija and see what she thinks.’

  ‘I am on holiday,’ Edie reminds me, sharply.

  ‘On holiday from what?’ I ask. ‘You don’t actually do anything.’

  ‘There’s no talking to you when you’re in this kind of mood,’ she snaps. And with that she stomps off to bed.

  Danny and I exchange a glance and then start to laugh.

  ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s go and make this boat rock.’

  So we do. Lots. And Edie doesn’t say a thing.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The following Saturday I kiss Danny with my stomach in knots. He’s going into London tonight straight from the boatyard to ‘have a few drinks’ with his old colleagues and is not coming back until tomorrow. I should be pleased for him. It will do him good to let his hair down for the night. I keep telling myself that. Instead, I’m wracked with nerves and want to cling on to him and ask him not to go. But, of course, I don’t.

  I work in the café all day with Lija and Rainbow. Edie stays out of the way on the boat. We’ve been skirting round each other for the last few days. Dinner time on the boat is strained and I’ve no idea what she’s up to during the day. I think we’re both starting to wonder why she came over at all.

  We have yet another busy day at the café and it’s good to see that the business is on a sound footing. We still have the repairs from the flood to contend with after Christmas but, for now, everything to do with the café is back on track. Which is a welcome relief as everything else seems to be in a state of flux.

  The last of the customers has just gone and we’re tidying up. Rainbow is singing along to Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ when Edie comes through the kitchen door. She’s all dressed up in the fancy white coat.

  ‘Hello.’ I finish wiping the plate in my hands. ‘Going somewhere nice?’

  ‘I thought we could hit the shops,’ she says. ‘Just you and me. While Danny’s out partying in London.’ I don’t miss the slight barb in her tone. ‘We could have some cocktails too.’ Perhaps she can sense my hesitation as she adds, ‘I’ve been stuck on that boat all day. I need to get out.’

  I don’t bother to point out that I’ve been on my feet since seven o’clock this morning and what I really need is a jolly good sit-down.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Edie urges. ‘For me.’

  I put down my tea towel. Resistance is futile. Plus I can’t cope with Edie sulking all night. ‘Fine. I’ll need to get changed and feed Diggery.’

  ‘That will take aaaages,’ she whines. ‘Come as you are.’

  That’s nice. Edie in a designer outfit, me in my waitressing white blouse and black trousers. But, frankly, I’m too tired to argue. With my sister in full regalia, who’ll be looking at me anyway?

  ‘Do you mind if I leave now?’ I ask Lija.

  ‘Is fine.’ She’s glowering at Edie though. ‘I’ll feed dog.’

  ‘Fab,’ Edie says. ‘I’ll call a cab.’

  ‘Can you take Stan his supper later too?’ I hate to ask another favour of Lija when I want her to be resting.

  ‘I’m going round to Stan’s tonight,’ Rainbow says. ‘I’ll take him his tea. We’re going to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol together. He’s TOTALLY never seen it! How can that even be? He’s ninety-WHATEVER.’ Even her curls are indignant. ‘I’ve got popcorn and EVERYTHING. I’ve brought big fluffy socks for us both.’

  ‘He’ll be in for a lovely evening,’ I say with a smile.

  ‘My nan says it’s not properly Christmas until you’ve watched it.’

  ‘She’s a wise woman.’

  Edie taps her foot. ‘Are we going or what?’

  At this moment, I’d rather join Rainbow and Stan watching the Muppets’ festive celebration, but I take off my apron and slip on my coat.

  Her phone pings. ‘That’s the taxi.’

  ‘Wish me luck,’ I mouth to Lija and Rainbow as I leave.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The shopping centre is heaving. It’s six o’clock by the time we get there and the crowds aren’t showing any signs of abating. Many of the big stores are open round the clock and I wonder who really needs to be buying tinsel at two in the morning.

  ‘I haven’t done any Christmas shopping yet.’ Edie takes my arm.

  ‘I’ve done a few bits, but they’re token gestures this year. Just little bits and bobs.’

  ‘What do you want as a present?’

  ‘I don’t know. Nothing really. There’s no space to keep anything on the boat.’

  ‘What about a great handbag?’

  ‘Edie, does my current lifestyle look as if I need a “great” handbag?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ she says, sniffily. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to look though.’

  So she drags me to a very posh designer store. The vast window is filled with sparkling plastic icicles with one artfully placed white leather bag in the middle. Inside, many of the handbags are locked in glass cases. An entire wall of the shop features just a handful of bags.

  ‘Oh, I love this store,’ Edie coos. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘I’ve never been in it before.’

  She dashes here and there, stroking the bags that aren’t under lock and key. ‘Look, Fay. Look.’

  I look. They all seem ruinously expensive. And impractical. Though I must admit that they’re certainly more attractive than the supermarket Bag for Life I normally tote around.

  ‘Which is your favourite? Would you like one?’

  ‘It would be wasted on me, Edie. If I had that kind of money, I’d spend it on the boat.’ Or on Lija. Or on buying food.

  She rolls her eyes at me. ‘Well, I’m going to treat myself. I can’t help it.’ Edie picks up one of the pristine white leather bags, the same as the one that graces the display in the window, and caresses it like an adored pet.

  Ridiculous. I’d spill coffee or red wine on that thing on its first outing. I stand and try not to scowl.

>   ‘It’s not just a handbag,’ she intones. ‘It’s a work of art.’

  ‘It’s very nice.’ I don’t even ask her how much it is.

  She waggles the bag at me in a tempting manner. ‘Are you sure you won’t?’

  I shake my head. ‘No, thank you.’ Is my sister really so utterly insensitive? I feel as if she’s rubbing my nose in the fact that she is the one with all of Miranda’s money and I am not.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ she says. Then Edie flounces with her purchase to the cash desk and flashes her credit card to pay. It’s beautifully wrapped and put into one of those fancy paper carrier bags that’s probably worth more than my own handbag. Edie breezes out of the shop, clearly on cloud nine. I’m pleased for her. If that’s what she wants.

  Actually, scratch that. I’m not. I’m seething.

  ‘Let’s get a cocktail to celebrate,’ she says, clutching her carrier bag to her. ‘Is there anywhere decent to get a drink in this dump?’

  I bite my tongue and steer Edie to the nearest bar. The place is too busy, the music too loud. We perch on uncomfortable bar stools at a table in the window. Edie puts her carrier bag on the stool next to her, mouthing a silent ‘squeeeee’ as she does.

  We peruse the cocktail menu, yet I see nothing but red mist. The waitress comes and is dressed in a sexy Santa outfit. She looks as if she wants to kill herself. She stands with her pad poised, unsmiling. Edie trills off her order. I close the menu and say, ‘I’ll have the same.’

  Edie is all a-shiver with excitement and when the cocktails come, she gulps hers down and orders another straight away.

  ‘Cosmopolitans are my favourite,’ she says. ‘I go to this really hip bar in Manhattan all the time. You should come over sometime. We’ll paint New York red!’

  I can’t think of anything worse. Sipping my drink slowly – which I now know is a cosmopolitan – I let the strong bite of alcohol hit my throat with each mouthful.

  ‘Where next?’ she says.

  ‘I’m not sure I really have the appetite for shopping,’ I admit. ‘I should go back to the boat and leave you to it.’

  She pouts at me. ‘You’re such a spoilsport, Fay. What’s happened to you? You used to be such fun.’

  ‘I didn’t, Edie. You were always the fun one. I was the quiet one that never shone.’

  She shrugs her shoulders. ‘Well, it doesn’t always have to be like that. You can change. People do.’

  ‘I’ve found, generally, that they don’t.’

  My sister fixes me with a stare. ‘Meaning?’

  I don’t know whether it’s the alcohol that’s emboldening me, but in for a penny, in for a pound. ‘You promised that you’d share Miranda’s money with me. Before you went back to New York. That’s exactly what you said. You said you wanted us to get back to where we were.’

  Now Edie’s face has darkened, the shine of excitement gone. ‘And handing the money over to you will achieve that?’

  ‘Some of it,’ I stress. ‘You know that Miranda didn’t treat me fairly.’

  ‘I got the house. You got that wretched boat you love so much.’

  ‘Exactly. You banked over half a million pounds and I got a leaky narrowboat – which I do love dearly – but it’s going to cost a fortune to make it fit to go on the water again.’

  ‘That’s hardly my fault, is it?’

  ‘Danny’s in London right now trying to get a job back in a world he hates, just to try to prop up our finances. We want to be able to help Lija too when the baby comes. We’re on the breadline, Edie, and you’re buying designer fucking handbags.’

  Edie looks as if I’ve struck her. Whether my message has hit home or whether it’s the unaccustomed expletive, I don’t know. Then she flushes and says, ‘I haven’t told you everything, Fay.’

  My blood runs cold when I reply, ‘Perhaps you better had.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The surly Santa waitress brings us more cocktails, even though I’m pretty sure we didn’t order any more. Still, I’m grateful for the numbing powers of the alcohol.

  Edie and I sit in silence, doing our best to ignore the hubbub surrounding us, while she gathers her thoughts.

  ‘Well?’ I say when there’s nothing forthcoming for what feels like five minutes or more.

  My sister sighs and runs a hand through her glossy blonde hair. Her throat is tight when she says, ‘I haven’t got any of the money left.’ She stirs her cocktail in order to avoid my eyes. ‘Well, not much of it.’

  I’m so gobsmacked that I struggle to form words. I struggle to form thoughts. I feel as if this cosmopolitan is woefully inadequate. I am a person in shock and need, at least, a double brandy. When I do finally manage to find my voice, I splutter, ‘How? How can that possibly be?’

  She takes a slug of her cocktail and tries to look nonchalant, but I can see that her hand is trembling. When, eventually, she looks at me, she says, ‘I handed most of it over to Brandon.’

  I try to digest that, but words fail me.

  ‘He said he’d invest it for me,’ she continues. ‘And he has. With a start-up software company whose stock has plummeted. It’s all but gone.’

  ‘Half a million pounds?’

  ‘Mostly. Before Brandon got his hands on it, I bought a lot of handbags and shoes too. Designer ones.’ Her eyes challenge me. We’re both aware of the crisp carrier bag on the chair next to us bearing yet another one. ‘Some of it I snorted up my nose and some of it I glugged down my throat. I have developed quite the taste for champagne and cocktails.’

  I can feel pressure building in my head and I really, really want to slap my sister’s silly face. I want to slap her more than I’ve ever wanted to slap anyone in my life. ‘There’s no chance of getting it back?’

  She shrugs, but I can tell that she’s not feeling as casual as she’s trying to portray. ‘A miracle could happen, I suppose.’

  ‘But it’s unlikely.’

  Edie nods.

  My heart is racing and my breath wavers when I exhale. ‘How could you be so stupid?’ So very, very stupid.

  ‘It’s easy for you to ask that,’ she spits back. ‘You with your perfect little life and your cute boyfriend and your cute dog, playing house in your cute boat. How dare you judge me?’

  ‘I’ve worked hard for this,’ I tell her. ‘As well you know. I was the one who put in hours and hours at the café to try and grow it into a decent business. I was the one who waited on Miranda – your mother – hand and foot. Where were you when she was ill? Swanning about with your married lover, that’s where. Then when you were left everything you behaved like the grasping spoiled brat that you are.’ Now my sister does look as if I’ve punched her in the face, but I’m not finished yet. ‘You were handed a fortune on a plate – an absolute fortune – and, in turn, you handed it all over to Brandon without question?’

  When she finds her voice, she stutters, ‘I … I … I trusted him. He told me it was a sure-fire thing, that I’d make my money back a million times over.’ Her expression is bleak. ‘I thought I’d be rich. What a fool.’

  I can hardly bear to look at her any more, let alone speak to her. I’m not sure what else I can say, so it’s probably best if I shut my mouth now. I’ve probably said too much already and the only words that are still on my tongue are ones that I’ll regret saying.

  ‘That’s why I can’t stay in a hotel. That’s why I have to stay here.’ She says ‘here’ in the same tone as you would ‘shit hole’. ‘I can’t even pay my rent, so I’ve lost my apartment. I handed back the keys as I left. I gave everything else away to my friends. I have nothing but what I brought back.’ She stares out of the window at the crowds of Christmas shoppers. All of them happy, smiling, oblivious to the unfolding heartbreak of our family drama.

  Edie puts the insolent expression on her face that she mastered when she was fifteen. ‘I’m not here for Christmas, dear sister. I’m back for good.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Our shoppin
g trip, needless to say, is abandoned. Edie texts for a cab and we ride home in it in silence. I leave her to pick up the bill for the cocktails and the taxi.

  When we get back, I stomp down the garden to The Dreamcatcher, Edie trailing in my wake. On the boat, my sanctuary, I crash about with the kettle, making tea.

  Edie stands there looking forlorn. ‘I’ve upset you,’ she says. ‘What can I do?’

  Spinning to look at her, I spit out, ‘Upset me?’ I hold my hand to my head. ‘Upset me? That doesn’t even come close. You have absolutely no idea, Edie, do you?’

  For once, she does look properly penitent. ‘How can I put this right?’

  Hands on hips, I face her squarely. ‘You can get your money back and share it fairly with me. That’s what you can do.’

  I see her gulp. ‘You know that’s not possible. I’m entirely dependent on Brandon. I wish I wasn’t.’

  I snort my disdain.

  ‘I’d do anything to be able to fix this,’ she insists.

  Then I don’t really know how deep inside it comes from, but all the anger that I’ve been pushing down for so long suddenly surfaces. It’s clearly been bottled up for too long as a rush of bile floods my throat. The dam bursts and all the hurt that I’ve suffered at Edie’s hands comes out in an unstoppable torrent. My head is reeling, my heart hammering with the force of my ire. ‘Get out,’ I say, coldly. ‘Pack your things and get out now. I never want to see you again.’

  Edie’s face drains of colour. ‘You don’t mean that, Fay.’

  ‘I do,’ I assure her. ‘I absolutely do. I’ve never meant anything more in my life.’

  ‘Where am I to go?’

  I fold my arms across my chest, forming a barrier between us. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’

  ‘But it’s coming up to Christmas. We were going to have a nice family time together.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, Edie, but that’s really not going to happen.’ I have never felt more determined not to be swayed by my sister’s wheedling.

  ‘This is because Danny’s away,’ she presses on. ‘You’re missing him. You’ll feel better when he’s back.’