What Happens At Christmas...

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What Happens At Christmas... Page 19

by T A Williams


  Holly set this box down and opened the second one. Inside were more wrapped presents, the date on the top ones, 2013 and 2014. She opened the third box and found more of the packages, this time dated 1998 and 2000. One by one, she picked the boxes up and carried them downstairs. She cleared her dinner plate and glass, opened the boxes and began to unload the presents onto the kitchen table. She laid them out in chronological order until she had an unbroken line from 1989 to 2015. In all, there were twenty-seven packages of various shapes and sizes; one for every Christmas since her father had left her, right up to the present. The first one, dated 1989, was quite large, while the last one was no bigger than a bar of soap.

  Holly pulled out a chair and sat down. She realised that, unlike the Christmas tree in Jack’s house next door, she was going to have a lot of presents on the floor around hers. She wondered what to do. Part of her was crying out to open them now, while another voice told her to wait. In the end, the voice of caution won, but not entirely. She decided to wait until Christmas Day for most of them, but felt she could at least open one of them now. Having made that decision, the question was which? The answer was inevitable to an engineer. Start at the beginning.

  Holly took the other presents and arranged then on the floor around the base of the tree, leaving only the first one on the table. This was considerably bigger than any of the others, but quite light. She picked it up and took a deep breath before opening it. At Christmas 1989, she would have been just seven. What had her father chosen as a toy for a little girl that age? She tore the paper off and found a cardboard box with a Perspex cover. Inside it was a teddy bear, but not just any teddy bear. As a regular viewer of the Antiques Roadshow, even without the name on the box, she immediately identified the tag in the bear’s left ear as the trademark of German toymaker, Steiff. This little bear was a classic. Very carefully, she opened the box and slid the bear out. He was a brown bear with a black button nose and she sat him on the table in front of her and studied him. There was a label pinned to his chest marked with a number, and his glass eyes stared back at her impassively. He sat comfortably on his bottom, his orange pads pointing at her. He was just gorgeous. Holly knew full well that if she had seen him when she was seven, she would never have wanted to let him go. As it was, she slept with him in her arms that night.

  Day Eight

  Friday

  Friday morning was a busy one for Holly. After taking Stirling out for his walk, she set about cleaning the bathroom and her bedroom, in readiness for Julia and Scott. She put new sheets on the bed and prepared a single bed in the next room for herself. Once that was all done, she put the old sheets in the washing machine and set about cleaning the kitchen. Finally, she washed and changed into clean jeans and a rather nice cashmere top she had always liked because it was the same colour as her eyes. At eleven-thirty, she took the dog for a quick run round the green, gave him an early lunch and then set off for Exeter just before noon.

  The sky was clear and it had been a frosty night but, by this time, the ice had all melted away and she had a good run as far as the outskirts of Exeter. During the journey along winding, but not exceptionally narrow roads, she spared a thought for Christmas presents. She was planning to go shopping for a long dress today, so that made buying a present for Julia dead easy. Julia could choose something and Holly would pay for it. The other people who deserved a present were Mrs Edworthy for having looked after first her father and then Stirling, and the three new men in her life; Jack, Justin and Howard Redgrave. For Justin she decided to look for something nautical, for Jack something with either a Land Rover or a surfing connection, and for Howard, the richest man she had ever met, she needed time to make up her mind. She spent most of the drive thinking about suitable presents for him and came to a conclusion roughly at the same time as she hit the outskirts of Exeter. She would buy him something that would remind him of his years in France.

  As she hit Exeter, so she also hit heavy traffic. She sat fuming in a slow-moving queue, presumably made up of last minute shoppers such as herself, gradually creeping into the city centre through a series of slow traffic lights. It made her realise how, in just a week on Dartmoor, she had already got so used to the peace, quiet and uncrowded surroundings – to the extent that a provincial city like Exeter now felt worse than London. She got to the station a full ten minutes late and saw Julia already standing outside, looking round hopefully. When she spotted the red Porsche, Julia waved and Holly drew up alongside her. Jamming her bag onto the narrow back seat, Julia climbed in. Holly was quick to apologise.

  ‘I’m so sorry I’m late, Jules. The traffic was horrendous.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. My train was a bit late, and I’ve only just come out of the station. To be honest, a bit of fresh air’s very welcome. The train was jam packed.’ She fastened her seat belt. ‘So, what’s the plan?’

  ‘Shopping.’

  Julia gave her a grin. ‘Excellent. What are we shopping for?’

  ‘Presents for my men, Christmas pudding and a Christmas cake, and some super smart dresses for you and me.’

  ‘When you say, your men?’

  ‘All three of them.’ Holly stuck the car into first gear and pulled away. ‘I’ll fill you in on the details as we go along. First things first, though, we need clothes.’

  Altogether it took three hours of serious shopping to find everything they wanted and it was getting dark by the time they staggered back to the car, laden with bags. With Julia’s suitcase in the back, it was a real struggle to fit everything in, but they just managed. Holly had been making a few phone calls and she called into the Land Rover garage on the way out of town, where they had exactly the right present for Jack, although getting it into the car took ingenuity. All the way home, Holly filled Julia in on the events of the week so far, up to and including her glass of Prosecco with Jack the previous night. Julia listened in silence, her head poking up from beneath a pile of shopping, before she gave her verdict.

  ‘Assuming you’re right in your conviction that Land Rover man isn’t gay and that he isn’t involved with that Dolores woman and he hasn’t got a wife stashed away somewhere, we’ve got to work out what’s holding him back.’ She knew Holly wouldn’t be able to see her face in the half-light, so she put her tongue firmly in her cheek and played devil’s advocate. ‘Maybe he doesn’t like you.’

  ‘If he doesn’t like me, why’s he spending so much time round at my place? Try again, Sherlock. And, believe me; that man isn’t gay.’

  ‘Maybe he’s just one of those terminally shy boys you meet from time to time.’

  ‘There’s nothing shy about Jack Nelson; trust me.’

  ‘Maybe he’s a, what do they call them, Jehovah’s Whatsits, and he thinks lusting after women is a sin.’

  Holly snorted. ‘He’s not a religious fanatic or a celibate. Take a look at some of the film screenplays he’s written. There’s nothing prudish about them.’

  ‘Maybe he’s scared stiff of you. You can be pretty scary sometimes.’

  ‘He’s not scared of me. Definitely not.’

  ‘And you’re sure he hasn’t got some other woman?’

  ‘Anything’s possible, but if there is another woman, I haven’t seen or heard so much as a hint of her existence.’

  ‘Well, that leaves us with the only other possible explanation. What is it they say? Once you’ve removed all the wrong answers, the one that’s left, however improbable, is the right answer.’

  ‘So… and the answer is…?’ They were in the narrow lanes by this time, only a couple of miles from home.

  ‘He’s an alien and they don’t mate with our species.’

  ‘He’s not an alien, Jules, not with abs like he’s got. Come on, be rational. What’re we missing? What’s the only answer we’re left with, however improbable?’

  ‘The answer, Hol, has to be that he’s been burned.’

  ‘Burned?’

  ‘Badly burned. Somebody’s taken his heart and s
tomped on it, big time.’ Julia thought for a moment. ‘I reckon that’s it. He’s sort of like you’ve been saying your dad was at the end. He experienced what he thought of as true love and, having lost it, he knew he’d never find it again. Like I say, maybe Jack’s in that situation. He knows there’s no point in going after you, because you’ll never match up to his lost dream of perfection.’ She did her best to end on a positive note. ‘So, you’ve got a challenge? So what? You’ll have him eating out of your hands in a matter of days.’

  This time Holly didn’t answer, pretending to concentrate on her driving. But Julia’s words had hit home all right. Maybe that’s the way it was. Jack had been burned. And if his heart was irrevocably broken, was there anything she could do to help him piece it together again? And as for having him eating out of her hands in a matter of days, that was all she’d got – a few more days. She gave a little snort and pulled into the drive beside her house and parked in the back garden. She glanced towards the house and saw a big, dark shape looking out of the kitchen window. She was already familiar with this, although the first time she had seen it she had got a shock. She now knew that it was neither an intruder nor a ghost. It was a large black Labrador, standing up on his hind legs, paws on the window ledge, very pleased to see his mistress come home.

  It didn’t take Julia long to work out that she was totally in love with Stirling. For his part, the dog was delighted to have not only one friendly human, but two of them to make a fuss of him. He bounced around as they brought everything in from the car, getting in the way and threatening to knock them over as they struggled in under the weight of their purchases. To be on the safe side, Holly and Julia piled everything on the kitchen table, out of his way. Finally shutting the back door and turning the key, Holly looked across at her friend who was sitting on a chair in a warm embrace with the dog who was up on his hind legs, trying to lick her face. Holly caught her eye.

  ‘Just shove him off if he gets to be a nuisance. Tea?’

  ‘Very definitely. This is the most amazing dog, Hol. Aren’t you? Aren’t you, Stirling? Oh yes you are.’

  The dog, hearing his name, did his best to climb onto Julia’s lap. Holly decided enough was enough and the time had come to put her foot down. ‘Stirling, no! Get off!’ To her surprise, he obeyed instantly and came trotting over to where she was standing by the fridge.

  ‘His master’s voice. That was impressive, Hol.’

  Holly decided not to tell Julia that she was as amazed as she was. She ruffled Stirling’s ears and told him he was a good boy. To reinforce the message, she pulled out a dog biscuit and gave it to him. Julia came across to the sink to wash her hands. ‘How’re you going to cope with him in London, Hol? Doesn’t he need lots of space, a garden, regular walks?’

  ‘Talking of walks, he’s been locked up in here for a few hours now. I’d better take him for a walk. You want to come?’

  ‘It’s pitch black out there, Holly. How do we see where we’re going?’

  ‘We’ll be fine. You just need time to get your night vision.’ She looked critically at Julia’s London shoes. ‘You might need to lose the heels first. I’ve got a pair of trainers you can use.’

  Julia was genuinely surprised by this. ‘You, trainers? I never thought I’d hear the day.’

  Holly protested. ‘I’ve got a pair of trainers in London.’

  ‘That you only wear with your rather fetching oil-stained boiler suit when you’re crawling around all over Greta’s engine, getting muck under your fingernails. Otherwise, if they haven’t got a designer label, you don’t wear them.’

  Holly acknowledged the truth of what Julia was saying. ‘Yes, well that was the old metropolitan me. This is the new country style me. Trust me, you don’t want to step into horse shit in a pair of Alexander McQueens.’ She went over to get the trainers for Julia. ‘Here, see if your feet fit. I’ve got some thick woolly socks if you need them.’

  ‘Thick woolly socks? Have you gone mad, woman? What’s come over you?’ Julia tried the trainers and found that they fitted quite well without the extra socks. While she tied the laces, she repeated her question. ‘So, how about the dog when you come back to London?’

  ‘If I come back to London.’ Holly waited for the outburst. She didn’t have to wait long.

  ‘What do you mean, if?’ Julia abandoned the laces and looked up in astonishment. ‘You mean you’re thinking about staying down here? But what about your job, your friends, the shops…?’

  ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet. I’ve just been mulling it over. But you’re dead right about Stirling. There’s no way I want to be separated from him now, whatever it takes. Besides.’ She caught Julia’s eye. ‘The fact is, he’s the closest link to my dad that I’ve got left.’

  Julia nodded. ‘I can understand that. But, didn’t you say your dad had left you a ton of money? Couldn’t you buy a house in London with a garden?’

  Holly nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about that, too. The house is just part of the problem. The other is my job. TPI work me pretty hard.’

  ‘You work yourself pretty hard, Hol, and you love it.’

  ‘Yes, I do enjoy my job, but the fact is I’m often out of the house from seven-thirty in the morning to seven-thirty at night or later. It wouldn’t be fair on the dog to keep him cooped up all on his own.’ She read comprehension in Julia’s eyes. ‘Anyway, I reckon I could work from here if it came to it. I spend almost all my time in the office these days.’ She smiled at Julia. ‘I haven’t decided anything yet, Jules, and the one person I would miss most if I came down here would be you.’

  Julia waved her hand dismissively. ‘I’d miss you, too. Lots. But I’d have a gorgeous little cottage in Devon for dirty weekends. What’s not to like?’

  ‘Talking of dirty weekends, what time’s your man coming?’ Holly looked at her watch. It was a quarter to six.

  ‘He said he’d try to leave London between three and four. If all goes well, I suppose he should be here by half past eight or so. How long did we take to get here last time?’ She pulled out her phone. ‘What’s mobile reception like down here?’

  ‘Surprisingly good. And broadband, too. I’m piggy-backing on Jack’s wifi at the moment, and it’s pretty fast.’

  Julia called Scott and discovered he was making good time in spite of the holiday traffic. He hoped to be with them by eight-thirty.

  ‘So, dinner at eight-thirty and bed at eight forty-five?’ Holly was grinning at her. Julia grinned back.

  ‘Of course not. We’re not completely sex-obsessed, you know. Bed at nine will be just fine.’

  After Julia had dumped her suitcase in her room, they took Stirling and went for a walk round the village. Holly found she was enjoying pointing out places of interest and, as their eyesight improved, even Julia had to admit that it was easier than she had expected to pick their way along the tracks and paths. ‘If we were doing this in London, I’d be terrified of being mugged or worse. Down here, you feel so safe, don’t you?’ Just at that moment, they passed a wooden gate. Half a dozen black and white shapes suddenly detached themselves from the shadows and lumbered off in alarm. ‘Jesus Christ, what was that?’ Julia had almost jumped out of her borrowed trainers in terror.

  ‘Cows, Jules. Just cows. Look, even Stirling isn’t bothered.’

  By the time they got back to the green it was well past six and Holly knew that the Five Bells would be open. She glanced across at Julia’s face, visible now in the light of the village’s only street lamp, just outside the post office. ‘Glass of wine?’

  ‘You’re a mind reader.’

  Stirling led them into the pub and headed for his favourite spot by the fire. There weren’t many people in there this early and Holly’s usual table was free. They dumped their coats, went over to the bar and ordered two glasses of Pinot Grigio.

  ‘Good evening, Holly, and how are you this evening?’ It was Fergal Frazer. The Scottish accent was as strong as ever, but tonight his knees were co
vered.

  ‘Hello, Fergal. I’m fine. A happy Christmas to you. Let me introduce my friend Julia from London.’

  ‘It’s very good to meet you, Julia. Are you staying for the festivities?’

  ‘I’m going to my parents in Exeter on Christmas Day, but I’m here for the big ball tomorrow night.’

  ‘Splendid. And will you be coming to midnight mass afterwards?’

  The two girls looked at each other. Neither had been near a church for years. Holly decided upon a diplomatic answer. ‘Erm, I expect so, weather permitting.’

  The change of topic worked well. ‘Aye, there’s a damn great depression predicted for tomorrow night. It looks like we’re going to have a white Christmas.’ His eye twinkled. ‘I blame the Americans, you know. They have all these big snowstorms across on their side of the Atlantic and then they send the remnants over to bother us. Why can’t they keep them?’ He glanced up at the clock. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to join the carol singers. You’ll no doubt hear us later on.’

  They carried their drinks over to their table and sat down. Julia lowered her voice. ‘Midnight mass, carol singers? You haven’t joined a cult here, have you?’

  Holly shook her head. ‘No, it’s all part of village life, I suppose. Somehow I don’t think I’m going to change into a regular churchgoer, but I’ll tell you this. It’s rather nice to live somewhere with a real sense of community. Take this place, for example. Yes, it’s a pub. Yes, it sells alcohol, but it’s also a meeting place, a focal point. Mind you, I’m not sure I’d necessarily like to be a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old growing up out here in the country, but for grown-ups, it has its attractions.’ Just at that moment, another of the village’s attractions walked in. Seeing Holly, he smiled and came across to their table.

 

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