Calling Mrs Christmas

by Carole Matthews

  ‘Hush now,’ he says as he comforts me. ‘Nothing’s that bad that it can’t be fixed.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ I sob.

  ‘Is the party going off OK?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I tell him. Though, to be honest, it’s the last thing on my mind.

  ‘The lads will be pleased. They’ve been on tenterhooks.’

  ‘They’ve done a great job. You’ve done a great job. Georgina is full of praise for them both.’

  ‘They’ve really enjoyed it, Cassie. I’ve seen them grow in stature over the last few weeks and it’s fantastic.’

  ‘I’m pleased for them.’

  ‘Yeah, well…’ Then he doesn’t seem to know what to say. ‘I thought you were still at Gaby’s because your car was outside. She told me that you’ve got a brand-new Mercedes now.’

  ‘Did have,’ I say. ‘Briefly.’ I glance back at the house. ‘I’ve just given the keys back.’

  ‘I was frightened I’d see it upside down in a ditch on the way up here. No one should be out driving in this.’

  ‘It hasn’t stopped the party-goers,’ I note. A steady stream of cars are still turning into Carter’s driveway. ‘Or you.’

  ‘Well,’ Jim says, shuffling uncomfortably. ‘I wanted to make sure that you were OK. I didn’t like to think of you out in this by yourself.’ Then I think it registers with him what I’ve said and he frowns. ‘Why did you give the keys back?’

  ‘Because it’s all over,’ I tell Jim. ‘I came up here to tell Carter. I thought I owed him that much.’

  ‘It’s over?’ Jim looks as if he can’t believe his ears.

  I nod.

  ‘Really over? You’ve said no to all this?’ He waves a hand towards the house and grounds.

  I nod again, unable to find my voice.

  ‘You’re coming back to me?’

  ‘If you’ll have me.’

  His eyes fill with tears. ‘You’re kidding me?’

  ‘Can I come home?’

  ‘Cassie, that is my only Christmas wish come true.’ I fall into Jim’s arms and he picks me up and twirls me round.

  A BMW turning into Carter’s drive toot-toots at us, but neither of us cares. Jim lowers me to the ground but keeps me in a bear-hug, then kisses me deeply. His lips feel so good, so familiar on mine. The snow swirls around us, getting deeper and deeper.

  When he lets me go, I say, ‘I’ve been stupid. So stupid. Please forgive me.’

  ‘No more of that.’ He puts a finger to my lips. ‘I don’t care what’s happened as long as you’ve come back. Let’s get you out of this cold and go home now.’

  I don’t think that I’ve ever heard a better idea.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  This time, as I walk up the stairs towards my own front door, I feel as if I belong here. This is my home and it suits me just fine. I called my sister from the car to tell her that I’m staying at the flat tonight. In my own bed, with my own lovely Jim.

  I can hear the television as Jim opens the door and we both turn and smile at each other. Sure enough, sprawled out on the sofa in front of The Transporter are Andrew and Kieran.

  ‘Hey,’ Jim says. ‘Look who I’ve brought home.’

  They sit up straight and spin round.

  I feel a bit sheepish now, hand in hand with Jim. ‘Hi.’

  ‘You’ve come back to us,’ Kieran says.

  I shrug. ‘Yes.’

  They both instantly abandon the television and come to hug me.

  ‘It’s been rubbish without you,’ Kieran says.

  ‘Well, I’m back for good now.’

  Jim and I exchange a warm smile. And I mean it. Every word. Whatever the future holds, I’m going nowhere without this man by my side.

  ‘You know, we should clear off and let you have the place to yourselves,’ Andrew says. ‘You don’t need us two hanging around.’

  ‘Funny you should say that,’ Jim grinned. ‘I had a call from Vincent while I was sitting in the car at Little Gaddesden. Your flat’s ready.’

  They both stare at Jim, wide-eyed.

  ‘You can move in tomorrow.’

  ‘Christmas Eve?’

  ‘Yep.’

  The lads turn and high-five each other and then it’s another round of hugs.

  ‘Our own place, bro. In time for Christmas,’ Andrew says. ‘Can you believe it?’

  ‘No.’ Kieran is close to tears. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘We’ll have a last-night celebration here,’ Jim says. ‘Crack open some beers and phone for a pizza. Then, tomorrow, Cassie and I can take you down there.’

  ‘Thanks, Jim,’ Andrew says. ‘You’ve done so much for us.’

  ‘All I ask is that you stay on the straight and narrow from now on. Don’t give Vincent a reason to throw you out.’

  ‘We won’t,’ they promise in unison.

  ‘Right.’ Jim claps his hands. ‘Let’s find that pizza menu.’

  Half an hour later the food has arrived and we’re all squashed up on the sofa together, under a blanket, tucking into pizza. The fire is on, the lights are low. The Transporter is replaced by The Muppet Christmas Carol – a true sign that Christmas is upon us. I can’t believe that the boys have never seen it before. Perhaps they thought that they were too cool, but no one is too cool for the Muppets.

  We have a few beers together and the boys toast my homecoming. I look around as they’re all laughing at the antics of Miss Piggy and realise that we’ve grown into a family, as unlikely as that is. The thought brings a lump to my throat. Tomorrow I’m going to decorate the flat. Properly. The small tree that Jim and the boys put up can go into the hallway outside the flat to brighten it up, but I’m going to go big in here. Full-on festive. I shouldn’t forget that, despite the ups and downs, this year I have a lot to celebrate. There are only a few bits left to do in the diary, so I’ll have plenty of time. If people haven’t got their Christmas planned now, then it’s too bad. We can take some decorations down to the boys’ new home too and spruce that up. I don’t want it to be bare for them over the festive holiday.

  I look around at our small, cramped living room and feel more content than I’ve ever done. I realise that I could never have lived in Carter’s world. It is too glamorous, too superficial. I’d rather be here with Jim and the boys, watching a film on telly and eating takeaway pizza than at a champagne-fuelled party with people I don’t know. This is what’s real and I’m glad that I came to my senses before it was too late.

  Silent tears course down my cheeks.

  Jim turns to me, concerned, and whispers, ‘OK?’

  ‘Never been happier,’ I assure him and he squeezes my hand beneath the blanket.

  Eventually, all this emotion starts to take its toll and, as the credits are rolling, my eyes roll too.

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ Jim says. As the boys settle down for the night – one on the sofa, one on the floor next to it – he takes me by the hand and leads me to our room.

  He undresses me slowly and carefully as if he still can’t quite believe that I’m here. Then we make love, tenderly, silently. Afterwards we lie in the dark, wrapped in each other’s arms. This is where I belong. I sigh to myself, happily, and settle against Jim’s warm body.

  I’m home, I think. I’ve finally come home.

  Chapter Eighty

  Vincent gives each of the boys a key and we walk up the stairs behind them to their flat, carrying boxes. Not that they have all that much to move in.

  I was up very early and slithered down to the supermarket in my trusty old car. With all that’s been going on I’ve barely given a thought to our own Christmas and I realised that I had no food, no nothing, in the cupboards. I also desperately needed to buy the boys a few bits. How could they move in here without some basic provisions? All they have is what they stand up in.

  I’ve filled a box with groceries and store-cupboard staples to get them going. In another box there’s a small, starter dinner service and some mugs. I also got
them a cheap kettle and a toaster too. After Christmas, we’ll see what else they need and buy it in the sales. Due to the success of Calling Mrs Christmas! there’s plenty of money in our bank account – for once – and we can afford to help them out. Which is really nice. After all, a lot of what I’ve been able to take on has been due to the boys stepping up to the plate and throwing themselves into speed-learning skills they never knew they could master. I do, however, recognise that the success of my business very nearly cost me everything and vow that I won’t make that mistake again.

  Kieran slips his key into the lock. I notice that his hand is shaking as he says, ‘This is the first time I’ve ever had my own key.’

  He’s grinning from ear to ear and Kieran isn’t a boy who smiles easily. His cheeks are pink with excitement. It’s nice to see that his grey pallor has finally started to leave him. Due to a diet of regular home-cooked meals, he’s also started to fill out a little and doesn’t look quite so gaunt either. Jim and I will have to make sure that the lads are still eating well when they’re on their own, but I suspect that they’ll still have more than the occasional meal with me and Jim at the flat. Wait until I’ve got time to cook a Sunday roast again. They won’t be able to stay away. I hope so, anyway.

  The door swings open and we all troop inside. The living room is stark, bare, but I know that with a bit of effort we can make this into a home for the boys. I’ve brought with me a pretty artificial Christmas tree and some decorations. While Kieran and Andrew are settling in, I can get started with that.

  I’ve also bought them each another little gift this morning, which I’ve wrapped up and am itching to give them. For now, I just enjoy watching them as they wander through the flat, speechless.

  ‘This is ours,’ Kieran says eventually. He looks around in wonder, as if it’s Buckingham Palace. ‘This is really ours.’

  He sits on a bed in one of the tiny bedrooms.

  ‘A little present.’ I hand over one of my packages. ‘There’s one for you too, Andrew.’ Andrew takes it, suddenly bashful.

  Kieran enthusiastically rips off the Christmas paper. ‘I can’t remember the last time anyone bought me a present,’ he says shyly.

  ‘I thought he could keep you company if you’re having a bad night.’

  Inside is a teddy bear. It’s a traditional bear, furry and brown with a kind face.

  Kieran crumples up, hugging the bear tightly. ‘I’ve never had a teddy bear. Not ever.’ He sobs as if his heart is going to break.

  Jim and I sit down next to him on the bed and cuddle him while he weeps.

  ‘This is the start of a great future for you, lad,’ Jim says softly. ‘If you want us to, we’ll be with you every step of the way.’

  ‘I can’t manage without you.’

  ‘You’ve got me too,’ Andrew says, choked. ‘We’ll be all right, mate.’

  When Kieran’s tears abate, he thanks us again.

  ‘Come on,’ I say, chivvying him up. ‘We’ve got a lot to do. Shall we crack on?’

  The boys nod. I also ran into TK Maxx this morning and bought some cheap bedding. The duvets are thin and we’ll probably have to replace them with something a bit more substantial, but they’ll do for a week or two. I find the right box and give them a bundle of bedding each.

  While the boys are making up their beds, Jim assembles the Christmas tree and stands it by the window. It’s about five feet tall and is fashioned to look like a fir with snow on it. Already the cheerless room looks better. Cushions, I think. The boys need some cushions and a few more homely touches to help make this rather dreary flat into a home.

  I’m just lifting the Christmas decorations out of the box when Kieran and Andrew come through from the bedrooms.

  ‘Wow,’ Andrew says when he sees the tree. I think it might set Kieran off crying again.

  ‘Want to decorate it?’ I ask. ‘You’re the experts now. I’ll make a start on the kitchen.’

  So I hand over my duties and leave them with the overflowing box of baubles and tinsel.

  Jim is already cleaning out the kitchen cupboards with some Cif when I join him. He’s wearing yellow rubber gloves.

  ‘Did I ever tell you that I find the sight of a man cleaning in rubber gloves a real turn on?’

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ Jim says. ‘But I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.’

  I wind my arms round his waist and lean my cheek against his back. ‘I left the boys decorating the Christmas tree.’

  ‘I think they’ll be all right here,’ Jim says. ‘Vince will look after them.’

  ‘So will we.’

  ‘I’m a bit worried about what they will do for work come January. I don’t want them to have to sign on for benefits. I’d like to see them both in gainful employment.’

  ‘We’ve got a few bits and bobs in for January, but I’m hoping that I can carry on the business throughout the year. I thought I’d see if there was a market for a birthday planning service and I’ve become a dab hand at organising events. Even in a short time, I’ve made some great contacts.’ I don’t dwell on the fact that my best contact will have to be strictly off the radar from now on.

  ‘One thing I’ve discovered, Cassie, is that if you set your mind to it, then it will happen.’

  ‘Thanks, Jim. That means a lot.’

  He turns and pulls me to his chest. I rest my head against him. How could I have even thought about walking away from this man?

  ‘I know the past few months haven’t been easy but I feel that I’ve learned so much. I’ve found out a lot about who I am as a person and what I can achieve. I’ve also realised what’s important to me and I won’t forget that in a hurry.’

  ‘It’s Christmas, Cassie. Let’s not think about what’s gone wrong or what might have happened. We should simply count our blessings and have some fun.’

  I smile up at him. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  ‘Shall we go and see how those lads are getting on with the tree?’

  ‘Yes. Let me make us all some tea.’

  I also bought mince pies at the supermarket for us, but I’m never ever going to tell my sister that Mr Kipling has temporarily taken precedence over her home-made ones.

  So I find the new kettle in one of the boxes and plug it in. I search out the mugs too and I put the tea bags, coffee and sugar in the cupboard that Jim has just wiped.

  When the tea’s ready, we carry it through to the living room. Jim balances the box of mince pies on top of one of the mugs. Trays, I think. They need a couple of those too.

  In the living room, I’m pleased to see that the boys have just about finished. Andrew is draping the last bit of tinsel and Kieran has a large silver star in his hand. They’re bouncing around like overexcited children and Jim and I exchange a relieved glance. It’s going to work out for them here, I’m sure. It’s amazing to see how far they’ve come in the short time since I’ve known them. All the swagger and surliness, the prison attitude, has gone from them and they’re just two boys in need of love, affection and direction.

  ‘We should have a topping-out ceremony,’ Jim says.

  Kieran glances at Andrew and, when he nods, he hands the star to me. ‘You should do it, Cassie. After all you’re Mrs Christmas.’

  ‘So I am.’ I beam at them. ‘Someone get ready to turn on the lights.’

  ‘Jim,’ Andrew says. ‘You should perform the switching on of the lights.’

  ‘Makes me feel like a celebrity.’ Jim gets into place. ‘Ready!’

  Taking the star, I stand next to the tree. My throat is tight when I say, ‘I place the star on this tree, to shine love and laughter on this home. May you both be very happy here.’

  I slot the star into place and Jim flicks the switch on the lights. They twinkle out hopefully.

  ‘A toast,’ I say. ‘We need a toast.’

  Jim hands round the tea and we break out the mince pies.

  I lift my mug high. ‘Happy Christmas, boys,’ I say. ‘Happy Chris
tmas to us all.’

  When Jim, Andrew and Kieran lift their mugs and I hear them echo ‘Happy Christmas!’ I feel my heart wants to burst with joy.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  We stand at the door of the boys’ flat. ‘If anything goes wrong, ring me,’ Jim instructs. ‘Anything. Please. Whatever time of day or night. I’ve always got my mobile on. So has Cassie. Don’t struggle on your own.’