Christmas Cakes and Mistletoe Nights

by Carole Matthews

  It means that she has stuff to do. Christmas stuff. Stuff that doesn’t involve hanging around waiting for a bridegroom who may or may not appear.

  ‘It’s very unlike him,’ I offer.

  ‘Ten minutes,’ she says, lacking a bit of Christmas cheer. ‘That’s the best I can do. If he’s not here by then …’

  She goes back into her office.

  ‘Fucking Scrooge,’ Lija mutters at the closing door.

  I tut at her.

  She shrugs. ‘This situation needs more than “flipping”. Where is Danny?’

  ‘I don’t know. Why isn’t he answering his phone?’ I look at my bridesmaids for support. ‘What shall I do?’

  ‘He’ll be here,’ Edie insists. ‘Sit tight. He’ll definitely be here.’

  ‘He’s never late.’ They all exchange a nervous glance and I know that they are party to something that I’m not. ‘What? What are you not telling me?’

  ‘He’ll be here,’ is all that my sister says through gritted teeth.

  I was worried that we should have done something more to celebrate our wedding; now I’m fraught because I wonder if even this has made Danny reconsider his future with me. He’s always sounded so sure, but everyone has their doubts, don’t they? There’s so much going on at the moment, maybe he’s thought that this isn’t quite the life he envisaged. He wanted to be free and easy, going where the mood took him, unfettered by commitments. Now look at him. There are the problems with the house and the café, Lija’s impending baby, looking after Stan, Edie coming back, our constant state of financial embarrassment and probably a dozen other things that I’ve pushed to the back of my mind. He’s a young man, with so many plans. Perhaps he’s thought better of saddling himself with all that. With me.

  But surely he would have called if he’d had second thoughts? He wouldn’t leave me standing here, jilted, like a prize lemon. What if he’s had an accident? My stomach turns to ice. Would it be silly to phone the local hospital? Where on earth is he?

  It’s now past our allotted time and the registrar appears again. Her lips are pursed. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Miss Merryweather—’

  ‘It’s CHRISTMAS,’ Rainbow pleads, eyes welling with tears. ‘Have a heart. They are meant to be together and EVERYTHING.’

  ‘If it were up to me …’

  This woman would clearly be happy kicking Tiny Tim in the shins. I sigh. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘We can book you in again, anytime,’ she says, thawing slightly.

  ‘I don’t think there’ll be any need for that.’ I let my lovely bouquet of red roses and holly sprigs hang forlornly by my side. It feels as if my entire being has wilted.

  ‘We cannot just go,’ Lija says tightly.

  ‘We can’t stay here either,’ I point out. ‘They’re shutting up shop for Christmas. What else is there to do?’

  As we turn to leave, the door flies open, banging on its hinges, and Danny bursts in. Relief floods through me.

  ‘Problems.’ He holds up his hands in apology. ‘Many, many problems.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to call you for half an hour.’ I try not to sound annoyed, but I am. I’m overjoyed that he’s here and cross that he didn’t let me know why he was delayed.

  He takes my hands. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Really, really sorry. But I’m here now. Let’s do it.’

  ‘No explanation?’

  ‘Later,’ he says. ‘Now I’ve got a wedding to go to.’

  I try not to cry when I inform him, ‘The registrar is packing up to go home.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Danny goes a bit pale. ‘Let me talk to her.’

  ‘She has a heart of stone.’

  ‘I’ll give it a go.’

  Then I realise that Danny is alone. ‘Where’s Stan? Is he all right? Nothing’s happened to him?’

  ‘No, no,’ Danny assures me. ‘He’s absolutely fine. He’s still in the taxi. Do you want to go and get him? I thought it best to dash straight in.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Rainbow says and trots out towards the car park.

  Crossing his fingers, Danny knocks on the office door and then, before he slips inside, he turns back to me and grins. ‘You look bloody amazing, Fay Merryweather.’

  That, at least, makes me smile. I’d like to stay cross, but I can’t. Danny only has to flash me one of his cheeky grins and my heart melts. That has to bode well for a relationship, right? It’s not the end of the world if we don’t get married today, I try to convince myself. He’s here. He came. That’s all that matters.

  ‘Christ, I can’t stand all this drama,’ Edie moans. ‘There had better be some seriously good booze back at the house.’

  A moment later, Danny comes out of the office. The registrar is behind him, all smiles and flushed cheeks.

  Danny rubs his hands together. ‘Let’s get this show on the road then.’ He turns to the registrar. ‘This lovely lady hasn’t got all day, she needs to be at home for Christmas.’

  ‘Oh, no hurry,’ she says to Danny. ‘We’re all just relieved that you’re here. Aren’t we, Miss Merryweather?’

  ‘I’ve never been more relieved,’ I agree. I have no idea what Danny has said to charm her, but it’s clearly worked.

  Rainbow brings Stan through the door. He’s looking very smart in a black overcoat and cap. He has his row of shining service medals on his chest which Danny must have pinned on him this morning – the ones that he gave to me when we left. How wonderful to see him wearing them.

  ‘You look lovely, Stan.’

  ‘Had to scrub up to give my best girl away,’ he says proudly.

  ‘It was a close-run thing,’ I whisper. Imagine if we’d had to go home and eat all those sandwiches with no cause for celebration.

  ‘I’m all set when you are,’ the registrar says.

  Danny takes my hand. ‘Ready for this, the future Mrs Wilde?’

  ‘Yes. I am.’

  We pause to look at each other and Danny’s eyes shine with love when he squeezes my hand and says, ‘See you at the altar.’

  Chapter Sixty-One

  My heart does somersaults as Stan takes my arm and we walk slowly down the short aisle to the table at the front of the room. I’ve never seen this dear man stand quite so tall or beam so proudly. I couldn’t have had a better replacement for my own dad. I glance at our small gathering of friends who are like family to me and, for a moment, can imagine my mum and dad standing there with them. They would have been happy for me, I know. They would have loved Danny for a son-in-law and it’s at times like this when I miss them all the more keenly.

  With all the stress beforehand, I didn’t have much chance to look at Danny, not properly. Now I have time to drink him in as we approach. There was a time when I thought that I’d never be married at all, and never in my craziest dreams did I conjure up someone like Danny Wilde to be my husband.

  He stands in front of the registrar, the boyish grin that won my heart firmly in place. My husband-to-be is wearing his signature jeans with a grey tweed jacket and a jaunty red waistcoat. He has a red neckerchief tied at his throat. His hair is as mad as ever and I guess the haircut that he’d planned never happened. I don’t care whether his hair is long, short, black or green. I love him exactly the way he is.

  I walk in to ‘Marry Me’ by Train – the song that Danny was singing before he proposed to me – and I think how far we’ve come in such a short space of time. My rag-tag group of bridesmaids stands at the front of the room waiting for me. One goth, one angel, one channelling Audrey Hepburn. Rainbow is crying already and Lija digs her in the ribs. She remembers that she’s our official photographer and snaps some photos on her phone.

  Then I’m standing next to Danny and he takes my hand in his. The registrar rushes through her words, still eager to get home for Christmas, but I don’t care. The only words that are important are ‘I do’ and we both say them with conviction and love in our hearts. I feel choked with emotion but, to my relief, manage not to cry. My bridesmaids are
n’t holding up so well. Rainbow is sobbing and sniffing noisily now and even Lija surreptitiously dabs her sleeve to her eye.

  Too soon, the ceremony is over and the registrar pronounces us husband and wife. Danny pulls me towards him and gives me a long, lingering kiss. Our few guests clap our union. So we kiss again. And that’s it. I’m Mrs Danny Wilde.

  Now everyone’s crying, including Stan who I see wipe his tears away with a clean hanky. We leave to Ed Sheeran’s ‘Tenerife Sea’ – another favourite song of Danny’s.

  Outside, we’re showered with confetti and, laughing, shake it from our hair. We kiss again as Rainbow takes more photographs. The sky has darkened now and the air is crisp, cold. It looks as if it might, at long last, snow.

  The taxi is still waiting near the door. It’s a white Merc and they’ve tied a red ribbon and some holly to the front of it. The door opens and Diggery bounds out, barking. He’s wearing the same red neckerchief as Danny.

  ‘Cheesy, I know, but Rainbow insisted,’ Danny says.

  ‘Of course she did.’ I bend down to fuss our little dog’s ears. ‘I’m officially your mummy now,’ I tell him and he seems quite pleased with the fact.

  We pose this way and that while Rainbow takes some more photos on her phone. Then Lija loses interest and starts to rub her arms, shivering in the cold.

  ‘We should go back to the house now,’ I say to Danny.

  ‘Before that, I have a little surprise for you,’ Danny says, mysteriously. ‘We’ll see the others there in a short while.’

  ‘Is this what caused the many, many problems?’ He still hasn’t told me why he was delayed.

  ‘Not exactly,’ he says enigmatically. But he offers no further explanation. Then he waves to the others. ‘See you soon.’

  By the expressions on their faces, I can tell that I’m the only one who doesn’t know what the surprise is. While they all get into Lija’s car – Stan included – Danny and I jump into the taxi and speed off. I snuggle in the back seat with my new husband, Diggery curled up on his lap. ‘Do you mind telling me where we’re going?’

  ‘You’ll see soon enough.’ He looks very smug.

  So I settle back and enjoy the ride out of town and into the country lanes once more. In a little while, we’re on familiar territory and it’s not long before the taxi turns into the boatyard where Danny works.

  I frown at him. ‘What are we doing here?’

  ‘I told you. I have a little surprise.’ The taxi stops. ‘Come on.’ He holds out his hand and we clamber out of the car. The driver wishes us good luck and then drives away, leaving the three of us stranded.

  Danny grins at me. ‘This way, Mrs Wilde.’

  I get a thrill at the sound of my new name. ‘If you insist, Mr Wilde.’

  So we pick our way past the office, me tiptoeing over the discarded cables, pipes and other detritus in my high heels. This is where the Maid of Merryweather has been spending her days and I haven’t had time to see her in weeks. We head towards the covered boat dock alongside the canal and my heartbeat quickens as we do.

  When, finally, we stand at the dock, Danny pulls back the door and we step inside. The Maid of Merryweather is sitting in the water. The hull has been freshly painted in her original colours of dark green and red. The roses, so typical of canal boats, have been newly drawn. The boat is festooned with red ribbons and bowers of ivy and holly, rich with berries. They’re wound round the boat deck and along the rails on the roof. There’s a big red bow tied round the chimney for the stove and a bunch of mistletoe coming out of the top.

  ‘Oh, Danny.’

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘How have you done this? When have you done it?’

  ‘All those late nights weren’t always overtime,’ he admits. ‘I’ve put in a good few hours and I’ve had more than a little help from the lads here, but she’s looking good. We’ve stripped down and reconditioned the engine. The hull’s been repaired and re-blacked and she’s watertight again. She’s as sound as a pound now.’

  ‘I’m amazed.’

  ‘The inside still needs a lot of work, but I’ve got more done than I hoped for. Do you want to take her for a spin?’

  ‘Can we?’

  ‘It would be rude not to,’ he says.

  I can hardly wait to climb on board.

  Danny holds out his hand to help me as I step into the well deck. He’s right about the inside. Everything has been stripped out, all the fittings removed, so there are just bare walls and floorboards. There are no seats or table and even the kitchen has gone. She’s little more than an empty shell, but all traces of the water damage have been eradicated and she doesn’t smell like a swamp any more. The Maid of Merryweather is ready for a new era.

  ‘A work in progress,’ he says. ‘I’ve replaced all the wood inside, so we can start afresh. I’ve ripped out most of the bathroom too, but I’ve left the loo. For now.’

  ‘I should be grateful for that,’ I tease.

  ‘Another big push and an injection of cash and she’ll be as right as rain.’

  I stroke my hand over the smooth new wood inside. ‘You’ve done so much and you’ve saved her.’ I turn and kiss him.

  ‘You like your wedding present then?’

  ‘I love it. Surely, it’s the best wedding present ever. I never expected this.’ For this alone, I’ll be eternally grateful to Danny. ‘You’ve worked so hard on it. I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I am.’

  ‘I’ve one more thing to show you,’ he says. He takes my hand and I negotiate the empty cans of paint, tools and dust sheets as he leads me towards our cabin.

  Inside, there’s a mattress on the floor and clean, white bedding. It’s strewn with rose petals. Beside it is a bottle of champagne on ice and two flutes.

  ‘A nice touch.’

  He takes me in his arms and says, ‘I thought we ought to make our marriage official in style.’

  I laugh. Danny cracks open the bottle and pours us two glasses.

  ‘What about our guests?’ I sip the cold bubbles, enjoying the fizz on my tongue.

  My husband kisses me deeply. ‘I think they can wait for a little while.’

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  I stand on the back of the Maid of Merryweather, a little more dishevelled than I was before. I put my hand on my tummy and get a rush of emotion. How wonderful it would be if we’d made a baby on our wedding day. Danny is next to me, arm round my waist, and I nestle into his warmth.

  There’s a bouquet of red roses tied to the back of the tiller and ribbons festooned around.

  ‘Let’s take her out, Mrs Wilde,’ he says. ‘Easy does it.’

  So I start the engine and the boat purrs into life. ‘Sounds considerably better than she did last time we had her running.’

  ‘That is entirely down to my skill and patience.’ He winks at me, but I know that he is – quite rightly – proud of his achievement. And I am too. With everything else that’s been going on, he has still found precious time to do this for me.

  ‘I do appreciate it. You know how much this means to me.’ Much more than any fancy wedding, than a honeymoon somewhere hot and exotic, more than anything. Hot tears prickle my eyes. My dad would be so full of pride to see the Maid of Merryweather back on the water and shipshape again. As Danny says, there’s still a lot to do and, as always, cash is tight, but I feel that we’ve turned a corner. Danny has saved her from a slow, steady sink into ruin.

  Hand on the tiller, I ease her out of the boat dock and into the canal. The water is slate grey today, the sky the same colour. My velvet coat isn’t the most suitable garment for the weather, but I hardly feel the cold at all.

  Two swans glide out of our way and we head back towards the house. As we do, an icing sugar sprinkle of snow starts to drift down.

  ‘It’s snowing.’ I lift my hand to catch the flakes. They melt onto my palm. ‘A white wedding. How perfect.’ It drifts across the canal, speckling the surface of the water as it lands. It will be
beautiful if it snows tomorrow too. A white wedding and a white Christmas. What could be more perfect?

  Danny pulls me in close and kisses my hair.

  ‘What will we do with two boats?’ It’s been my dream to restore the Maid of Merryweather, but how will we afford to keep them both?

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ Danny says. ‘What if we turn her into a café too? We could either keep her moored at the jetty or take customers for trips on the canal. Lija’s afternoon teas have been a great hit. Maybe we could do that afloat? If we can make a go of it, we could bring in some welcome cash.’

  ‘Gosh, that sounds like a great idea.’

  ‘We’ve got a completely empty hull. I can kit her out however we like. We could put tables and chairs in or even refit her as a rental boat. After Christmas we should sit down and thrash out some figures. See what’s the most viable.’

  ‘If Edie’s staying around, she could maybe run it,’ I suggest. ‘She’s been surprisingly good in the café, but it would be a good idea to keep her out of Lija’s domain if we can.’

  ‘All things are possible,’ Danny says. ‘We’re only limited by our imaginations.’

  ‘And money.’

  ‘That too,’ he agrees.

  ‘How exciting,’ I say. ‘Next year is going to be amazing.’

  ‘Whatever we do, we’ll do it together.’

  I snuggle in again. ‘I like the sound of that.’

  Too soon, I see the jetty and The Dreamcatcher coming into sight. I get a pang of guilt about our waiting guests. I hope they’ve kept themselves entertained without us. Then I notice a large marquee on the lawn, strung with fairy lights. The sound of music is drifting down to the canal.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Ah, that. That’s the source of all my problems,’ Danny says. ‘The marquee collapsed just as the lads and I thought we’d finished putting it up this morning. We had to do it all over again. That’s why I was late.’ He nods towards it. ‘I hadn’t factored in enough time for a badly behaved tent.’