Christmas Cakes and Mistletoe Nights

by Carole Matthews

  ‘No, Edie. It’s because you’ve treated me like shit for most of my life and it stops now.’

  ‘You’re my sister,’ she pleads. ‘You mean everything to me.’

  ‘You have the most terrible way of showing it.’ We stand and stare at each other, both of us hurting in our own way. I feel the fight go out of me but, in its place, there’s a steely resolve. ‘I’m going to go up to the house to see Lija. When I come back, I want you gone.’

  ‘Don’t, Fay. Let’s talk. I’ll make you a cup of tea. You’ll feel better when I explain everything. Perhaps Brandon will get the money back. It happens. The markets go up and down all the time. Software is a very good thing to be in. He said so.’

  Though I’m still shaking inside, my voice is calm, controlled, when I say, ‘I’ve heard enough, Edie. Just go.’

  I put down the kettle, that I hadn’t even realised I was still holding, and then I stride to the door and jump off the boat onto the jetty. I march up to the house, my unsteady breaths making clouds in the cold night air.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Lija is in the kitchen when I get to the house. She has her coat on.

  ‘I’ve just had the most almighty row with Edie,’ I say without preamble. ‘I’ve told her to leave.’

  Lija purses her lips. ‘Good.’

  I notice that my hands are shaking and I feel like I’ve got post-traumatic stress or something. I so rarely get cross that it feels all wrong in my body, as if it doesn’t quite know how to process it. ‘I want to get very spectacularly drunk.’

  ‘Excellent idea,’ she says.

  ‘You’re not joining me. You’re pregnant.’

  ‘I will inhale fumes.’

  ‘What have you got?’

  Lija shrugs. ‘Wine. Vodka.’

  ‘Both,’ I say. ‘I’ll have both.’

  ‘OK.’ She goes to the kitchen cupboard where she keeps her booze stash and grabs two bottles.

  ‘Anyway, where are you going at this time of night?’

  ‘I am heading to Stinky Stan’s. Rainbow is already round there. I made serious mistake of telling her that I haven’t seen The Muppet Christmas Carol either.’ She rolls her eyes and, despite my anger, I can’t help but smile.

  ‘Well, it looks like I’m coming too. Is there room for a small one?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Surely the Muppets will get me out of this hideous mood. Yet I’m still furious when we knock on Stan’s door and Rainbow, bouncing from foot to foot, lets us into his cottage.

  ‘OMG,’ she trills. ‘The WHOLE team are in da houzz! Whoop-whoop!’

  Stan looks very perplexed. He’s sitting on the sofa in pink fluffy socks with an enormous bowl of popcorn on his lap.

  ‘Just in time!’ Rainbow says.

  ‘I hadn’t expected to see you too, Fay,’ Stan notes. ‘What a nice surprise.’

  I flop down next to him and dip into his bowl of popcorn. ‘Massive row with Edie. I’ve chucked her out.’

  ‘Will she go?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘I hope so. I mean it this time. I’ve had enough of her. She treats me like dirt.’

  ‘I’ve bought WKD for everyone,’ Rainbow says. ‘Well, not you, Lija, because it’s ALCOHOL and you are PREGNANT.’

  ‘This I know,’ Lija says crisply.

  Rainbow opens three bottles of the lurid turquoise drink, with a flick of a wrist like a pro, and gives one to Stan.

  He examines it with a slightly concerned look on his face. ‘Lovely,’ he says, not sounding convinced. ‘What does it taste of?’

  ‘Errr … BLUE,’ Rainbow decides. ‘Blue drinks are the best. My nan loves them. Get it down you, Stan. You’ll be breakdancing and EVERYTHING before the night’s out.’

  Stan turns to me and whispers, ‘Is that a good thing?’

  ‘Only in Rainbow’s world,’ I whisper back.

  ‘No glass?’ he queries.

  ‘Straight from the bottle, Stan. It’s the modern way.’ I plan on doing much the same with wine and vodka in a minute.

  ‘Ah,’ he says before clinking his bottle against mine and taking a hearty glug.

  ‘Nice?’ I ask.

  He licks his lips, savouring the taste of BLUE once more. ‘Not necessarily.’ But he glugs it again, nevertheless.

  If he has a few more of these, he’ll certainly sleep well tonight.

  ‘Put your fluffy socks on, Lija,’ Rainbow instructs as she hands over a pair of baby pink numbers.

  Surprisingly, Lija takes off her boots and slips them on without protest.

  ‘Ooo! Time for MUPPETS,’ Rainbow says and, after doing a little dance, rushes to the television to put a DVD, that looks very well-loved, into the player.

  I don’t want to call Danny as that seems too clingy. I want him to enjoy his evening without him having to reassure me that he’s not about to run off with Sienna or some other nubile woman, but I hoped he would have texted me by now. While Rainbow is cueing up the film, I decide to text him. I love you. Have a great evening. See you tomorrow. Xxxx. I hope that he’ll ping something straight back, but nothing arrives. Maybe he’s in a noisy bar and can’t hear his phone.

  We all squash up on the sofa together. Then Rainbow looks worried. ‘I didn’t get fluffy socks for you, Fay.’

  ‘I think I’ll manage.’ In fact, if I drink a couple more bottles of this blue drink, then I won’t care about anything at all.

  ‘I rather like mine.’ Stan wiggles his toes and gives them an admiring glance.

  ‘Everyone ready?’

  As Rainbow is about to start the film, a car pulls up outside the house. Lija stands, goes to the window and draws aside the corner of the curtain. ‘Is taxi. Edie is leaving.’

  ‘Good,’ I say, ignoring the knot of tension in my stomach. ‘Roll the Muppets, Rainbow.’

  And a moment later, Kermit is doing his thing on the screen.

  ‘You’ll totally LOVE this, Stan,’ Rainbow says. ‘It’s an education.’

  So often the little things in life are. I have learned tonight that my sister will never change. She will always be selfish and self-obsessed. At this moment, if you asked me, I’d tell you that I not only don’t love her any more, but I don’t even like her.

  Next to me Lija takes my hand and squeezes it.

  As the tyres of the taxi crunch on the gravel, I concentrate on Miss Piggy and my exceedingly blue drink and the love of the people I have around me.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The next morning, I lie propped up in our bed looking out of the window at the canal, the ducks drifting by on the lazy current and the early morning dog walkers on the far bank. My head is still pounding from too many blue drinks. Many, many blue drinks. I stick out my tongue to check whether or not it has turned blue, but I can’t see it.

  My stomach is still burning with acid after my row with Edie. Not even a lovely night with the Muppets – and I don’t mean Rainbow, Lija and Stan – could entirely shake my dark mood. Plus, I still haven’t heard from Danny. I keep checking my phone, but nothing.

  I think this is the first night that I’ve spent alone on The Dreamcatcher and it feels strange to be without Danny at my side. Turning onto his side of the bed, I hug his pillow. Diggery, sensing that I’m awake, works his way up from the foot of the bed where he’s been allowed to sleep and snuggles into the crook of my arm.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ I mutter to him, ‘or we’ll never get up.’

  A text pings into my phone and my spirits lift as I reach for it. Finally. Danny.

  Hi. On way back. Will go straight to boatyard. CU tonight. xx

  That gladdens my heart. Though I’m slightly disappointed that he hasn’t called me. Only a day apart and I’m desperate to hear his voice. I’m anxious to know how he got on with his old colleagues and whether a job in London is going to be feasible or not. I text him back. Hope you had good time. Love you. Can’t wait till you’re home. xx

  Eventually, I manage to muster
the energy to dislodge Diggery and head for the shower. The water fails to produce its usual healing powers and I dry myself still feeling out of sorts. I hate falling out with people. I am one of life’s mollifiers. I’m not built for confrontation. The urge to phone Edie and apologise is almost overwhelming. Almost. There’s still enough of me cross at her for treating me like a doormat.

  I go into work, but my mind isn’t really on the job. The mince pies today are not going to be made with my usual loving care. I’ll just be glad if they end up in the oven and not on the floor. Rainbow chatters on and I let her words flow over me.

  ‘My nan says that Father Christmas is an actual saint and EVERYTHING. She said he doesn’t even dress in red in real life. That came from drinking too much Coca-Cola or SOMETHING. Who knew? I always thought Father Christmas was my mum and dad. When they weren’t divorced. I’m sure I saw them once but I had to pretend I didn’t because there’s a rule that says if you see Santa then you don’t get your presents or WHATEVER. I think I got Heelys that year and you don’t want to miss out on Heelys by accidental Santa-seeing. That would be MAD, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lija and I agree, automatically.

  Then Rainbow’s off onto something else and we tune out.

  Mince pies done, I move on to making the sandwiches – also done on autopilot. Lija is quiet too, but she’s concentrating on icing gingerbread biscuits, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. My mind is not my own today. When I’m not stewing about what I said to Edie and what she, in turn, said to me, I’m fretting about Danny’s evening flying solo in the big smoke. Which is ridiculous of me. It was one night away from me and I’m not a jealous kind of person. I know that I could trust Danny with my life. I shouldn’t be worried about it. Really I shouldn’t.

  Yet it’s barely lunchtime when I crack and say, ‘Can I take some sandwiches down to Danny? He came back from London and went straight to the boatyard, so I’m not sure if he’s got anything to eat.’

  ‘Sure,’ she says.

  ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘Come back not miserable,’ she says.

  ‘Sorry.’ I pack some sandwiches into a plastic box for Danny and fill another one with a generous slice of rich Christmas cake. ‘This thing with Edie has got me all disgruntled.’

  Lija pauses in her icing. ‘It is right thing to do.’

  ‘Is it? I feel terrible.’

  ‘Edie will be all right. She always is.’

  ‘I know. She just pushed me too far this time.’

  ‘Go and see Hot Stuff.’ She nods towards the door. ‘He will put smile back on your face.’

  I grin at that.

  ‘See. Is working already.’

  Ducking out of the door, I click Diggery to heel and, of course, he’s overexcited at going for an unexpected walk. I head over the hump-backed bridge to the towpath and towards the boatyard. There’s a nip of frost in the air and there are few boats out on the canal. It’s a brisk fifteen-minute yomp to the boatyard and when I get there I ask a whiskered-man in paint-spattered overalls where Danny is and am shown to one of the narrowboats in dry dock.

  I find Danny under the hull of a boat scraping off layers of thick black gunge, some heavy indie band blaring out from the radio.

  ‘Hey, handsome,’ I shout. ‘I have come to tempt you with cake.’

  He stops what he’s doing and pushes out from under the boat. Brushing himself down, he climbs out of the boat dock and comes to meet me. He looks tired. Hung-over. Sad.

  Diggery goes crazy and Danny reaches down to ruffle his ears. ‘Hey,’ he says, holding up his hands. ‘I’m filthy. Again.’

  Coming here makes me realise how hard this work is. It’s dirty and physically exhausting. Plus he’s working outdoors in this weather. The boats may be covered but the rest of the boat dock is open to the elements. I’m frozen to the marrow just standing here for five minutes. It’s no wonder that Danny is considering taking a job back in the City.

  I hold up my boxes. ‘Sandwiches. Christmas cake. I thought you might not have had a chance to buy any lunch.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ he admits. ‘I’d intended to get something at Euston, but I was late and had to sprint for my train.’

  ‘Is there somewhere we can sit? I haven’t got long.’

  ‘Let’s go back to the Portakabin. I can make us a brew and warm up a bit.’

  So we walk back to the utilitarian box that serves as an office and staffroom. There are pictures of Amber Heard and Kylie, scantily clad, Blu-Tacked to the walls. Danny washes his hands and makes us tea. I move a pile of paperwork so that I can sit down and huddle under the two-bar heater that is high on the wall. ‘Cosy,’ I say.

  ‘Believe me, I’m grateful for any time I can spend in here.’

  As he passes me a chipped mug of tea, I touch his arm. ‘I know that you’re working really hard for us.’ Suddenly, stupid tears spring to my eyes.

  ‘Hey,’ he says, brushing them away. ‘No crying.’

  ‘I had a huge fight with Edie,’ I tell him. ‘I threw her out.’

  Danny laughs.

  ‘It’s not funny!’

  ‘I’m not really laughing,’ he chuckles. ‘I can’t imagine you chucking Edie off the boat. What happened? It must have been pretty bad.’

  ‘It was. Awful. It’s a long story though. I’ll tell you later. First, I want to hear how you got on. Did you have a good time?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I note that he looks away from me as he says, ‘Usual crowd. We went to a couple of bars and then a club.’

  ‘Hardcore.’

  He lets out a flat, weary breath. ‘Something like that.’

  My heart’s in my mouth when I ask, ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Sure.’ He dips into the box of sandwiches and bites a huge chunk out of one, saying, ‘No breakfast’, by way of explanation.

  ‘Any jobs on offer?’

  ‘I could be back there next week.’

  ‘Is that a good thing or a bad thing?’

  Danny shakes his head. ‘I’m still trying to work that out.’

  ‘Want to talk about it?’ Clearly something is wrong. I can’t put my finger on it and, maybe, it’s just a hangover, but Danny isn’t his usual self.

  ‘Later,’ he says. ‘I’m not sure what I want to say yet.’

  ‘OK.’ I don’t like the sound of that. At all.

  So he devours the rest of his sandwiches and starts on the cake. I don’t think that he’s tasting any of it. Normally, he’d be so appreciative, but he’s not even aware of what he’s eating. Clearly, he has a lot on his mind and that scares me.

  I’m subdued, Danny’s subdued and even Diggery, sensing we’re subdued, is subdued.

  Lunch box finished, he says, ‘I should get back to work.’

  ‘Me too. Shall I leave the dog with you?’

  Danny nods.

  His parting kiss is brief, but he holds my hands tight. Too tight. Diggery follows him back to the narrowboat, keeping close to his side. I walk back to work feeling alone, so very alone.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  I worry myself into a lather all afternoon. Even the fact that we’ve had our best day yet in the café fails to lift my mood. Rainbow, on the other hand, is getting more hyperactive the nearer to Christmas we get. Today, she’s wearing a white skater dress covered in smiley Santas and her curls are topped by reindeer antler deely-boppers. I think she frightened some of the customers with her fulsome enthusiasm, though there was certainly a lot of laughter too.

  ‘Bring us some figgy pudding,’ she sings along with a Christmas song as she stacks the plates into the cupboard. ‘Bring us some figgy pudding.’ Then she turns, looking puzzled. ‘What is figgy pudding, anyway? LOL. Pudding with a FIG in it? Oh, man. WRONG on many levels. My nana likes rice pudding. What’s that about? Pudding made of RICE. BLEURGH. Rice is for curry. DUH.’

  It’s later than usual when we’re clearing up and Lija looks exhausted. ‘Go and put your feet up.’ She open
s her mouth to protest. ‘I insist.’

  Rainbow and I finish up. I kiss her as she leaves for the evening and apologise for being grumpy – though I’m not sure that she even noticed. Then I take Stan his supper and sit with him for a while. Stacked on the coffee table is a range of Christmas films on DVD that Rainbow has left him to work through. He’s currently watching Love, Actually and has The Holiday lined up for later. In honour of it, the pink fluffy socks are in evidence again.

  ‘I like these rom-coms,’ he says, wiping a tear away as Emma Thompson has just discovered that Alan Rickman hasn’t bought the posh necklace for her. I feel a bit choked myself. ‘The things these youngsters get up to. It was never like that in my day.’

  ‘I’m not sure that we’re better for it, Stan.’ I sound melancholy even to my own ears.

  He frowns at me. ‘Things all right with you and Danny? You seem quiet.’

  ‘Yes, we’re fine.’ Though I’m not sure that’s the truth. ‘This thing with Edie has got me very unsettled.’

  He pats my hand. ‘Edie will be all right. You mark my words.’

  ‘Lija said the same thing.’ I can’t help dwelling on it though. Where has Edie gone? She has no other friends left here now as she never kept in touch with anyone. Surely she must have checked into a hotel nearby? But she could be anywhere. She might even have jumped on a plane and gone straight back to New York. How would I know? While it’s all churning round in my head, I glance at my watch and am shocked to see the time. ‘I’d better go. I’m going to make something nice for Danny’s tea tonight and need to crack on.’

  ‘Keep calm. Don’t panic,’ Stan says. ‘It will all be fine.’

  I take his tray and hope that he’s right.

  When I finally head back to The Dreamcatcher, I’m surprised to see that the lights are already on. The Christmas lights on the well deck are shining out in the darkness too and the boat looks quite magical.

  Danny must be home before me. Most unusual. He’s been getting back from the boatyard later and later. Though I have a notion to cook something special, I haven’t given the actual menu much thought and, as it’s now late, will have to resort to conjuring something up with what’s lurking in the fridge.