The Christmas Café

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘I feel absolutely drained.’ Bea was now more composed. ‘Thank you for coming with me, Flora. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there. You were so quick-thinking and smart.’

  Flora ignored the compliment. ‘Well, to be fair, without me you’d probably still be stuck in Surry Hills, hanging out with Kim and Tait!’

  ‘Yes, quite probably.’

  ‘It feels weird that I’ve met my dad’s half-sister and seen his dad and he doesn’t know anything about them.’

  ‘I know. I will tell him. I will tell him everything. That’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? About time. Especially now that you know.’

  Flora nodded. ‘I didn’t see John’s wife.’

  ‘No.’ Bea hesitated. ‘She could have been anywhere – shopping, inside. I dreaded her coming out too. God, that could have been awful.’ She closed her eyes and placed her head in her hands as she breathed in the cold air.

  ‘I’m loving this trip, Bea.’

  ‘Me too. It’s wonderful, a total roller-coaster of emotions. I haven’t felt this alive in a very long time.’

  ‘That whole thing back there was weird though, right? Talking to Moira, seeing John. How did he look to you?’

  Bea’s tears flowed again without warning. ‘I shan’t forget a moment of it, not ever. His hair’s greyer, of course, but the shape of him hasn’t altered, not really, not to me. He looked beautiful and it took all my strength not to run to him.’ She clenched her jaw and tried to muffle her sobs. ‘It has changed things for me in the most dramatic way.’

  ‘Changed them how?’

  ‘For years I worried about his well-being, worried that our liaison might have muddied things for him. Had things worked out for his family, were they happy? Or had he died young, been injured? I know it sounds daft, but those thoughts have preoccupied me for the last thirty-odd years. It’s been my own private torture, not to know the answers.’

  ‘It must have driven you crazy.’

  ‘It nearly did, more than once. But today, for the first time in all these years, I know I can stop worrying about him. He seemed happy. He looked wonderful, a beautiful man with his lovely family in his gorgeous home. I can finally stop worrying and that feels amazing! He wasn’t damaged, he was happy!’

  ‘Weren’t you tempted to run up that driveway and talk to him?’

  Bea shivered and tightened her coat over her lap. ‘Of course I was, more than you can know. But what would have been the point, other than to satisfy my own need for contact? He is settled, content. There’s an expression Peter used to use, “All you need is enough,” and he has enough. He doesn’t need me muddling things. I understand that, as painful as it is.’

  ‘How do you know he’s content?’

  Bea laughed. ‘Flora, people who are discontented are always in a terrible hurry. Whether it’s to arrive at the next place, be awarded the next job or move to another house, they’re always chasing something. All in the misguided belief that the next phase is where their happiness and contentment lies. He was in no rush to get out of the car, he joined in the larking around, helped with the groceries. I’d say he was content.’

  Bea grinned at her granddaughter before closing her eyes, wishing that their life had turned out differently but acknowledging that this was for the best. She would go back to Sydney knowing that he was happy and wishing him and his wonderful family a happy Christmas and nothing but good things.

  Flora sat up on the bench and bunched her knees under her chin; she held them in place by wrapping her arms around her shins. Bea looked at the knobbles of her spine that poked from the top of her fleecy hoodie. She sat forward and rubbed her granddaughter’s back. ‘I am glad you’ve been part of this adventure, Flora. I can’t imagine having done any of it without you. We wanted to get closer and we certainly have, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Yes, I really would.’ Flora paused. ‘I’ve loved it. I feel better about everything. I want to go back to how things were with Mum and Dad. I feel sad when I think about them.’

  ‘Why do you think that is?’

  Flora shrugged and bit her fingernail. ‘I think that maybe everyone was right. I’ve let people talk me into stuff and I know I’m smarter than that. But I didn’t really want to be smart, I just wanted to be liked.’

  ‘I can understand that, darling.’

  ‘Seeing that family today, hearing what you and Dad went through, I realise how lucky we are and how we have to make the most of the family we do have. I don’t want to make Mum and Dad worry about me.’ Her tears gathered.

  ‘You are smart, darling, and it will all be fine, just you wait and see.’

  Flora nodded. ‘I know. And I was right, you know – you are one cool gran.’

  ‘Don’t know about that, but I’m certainly one chilly gran. Can we go back to the hotel and get some tea?’

  ‘Sure.’ Flora stood and linked arms with her gran as they made their way along Princes Street towards The Balmoral.

  Fifteen

  Flora raced ahead, taking two steps at a time and charging into the revolving door. She needed the loo, so they arranged to meet in the restaurant for afternoon tea.

  Bea stepped from the icy-cold day into the warm reception of their hotel. She was, as ever, taken aback by the grandeur of the building. Her eyes panned across her surroundings, taking in the ornate chandelier, sweeping staircase and grand piano. She smiled at the friendly staff that milled about until her eyes came to rest on someone familiar.

  ‘Alex! This is a lovely surprise! Hope you haven’t been waiting long. We’ve been in the park, getting numb bums and putting the world to rights.’ She looked at him through narrowed eyes, slightly embarrassed, wondering if they had made arrangements that she’d forgotten about.

  He stood and looked at her, his expression solemn. ‘I need to talk to you, Bea.’

  ‘Oh, gosh, yes of course. Is everything okay?’

  ‘Shall we go and get some tea?’ He led her by the elbow towards the restaurant.

  Choosing a quiet table at the back of the room, the two sat opposite each other in near silence and ordered two cups of Earl Grey.

  Bea was rather thrown by his sober demeanour and was wracking her brain to think how she might have offended him or what it was he might need. ‘I must say, Alex, I’m a little unnerved. You look so serious!’ She tried out a chuckle.

  Just as she was trying to reconcile the man who’d previously been the life and soul of the party with this rather edgy character, Flora galloped into the room.

  ‘Hi, Alex!’

  ‘Hey, sweetie. I was just going to treat your gran to afternoon tea. Could I be really cheeky and ask if you’d mind giving us half an hour – if that’s all right with you, Bea?’

  ‘I guess.’ She arranged her bangles, feeling a little confused, cornered. ‘Go up to the room, Flora. You can watch a movie and you’ve got snacks up there. I shall be up in a wee while, or come down if you need anything or get bored. I’ll be right here.’

  ‘Okay.’ Flora shrugged and made her way from the restaurant.

  ‘What on earth is this all about?’ Bea’s tone was quite stern.

  Alex ran his hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. ‘I honestly don’t know where to start, except to say that I think you’re fabulous, Bea.’ He smiled briefly at her.

  ‘Oh God, this isn’t a proposal, is it?’ She laughed.

  He carried on as though she hadn’t made the joke. ‘I miss Robert so much. The moment I saw him, I knew. I didn’t know what I knew, but I knew something was happening, I knew he was going to be important in my life.’

  ‘That’s lovely, Alex. Sounds like you were lucky to have each other.’ She wondered where this was going.

  ‘We were. Thank you.’ He smiled up at the waiter, who was arranging their teapots and cups. The silver strainers came with their own natty little saucers, and the slices of lemon had a dinky pitchfork to spear them with.

  Bea poured her tea and
watched as her companion did the same with shaking hands.

  ‘When I came out to my family, it was tough. My dad was great. My mum... how can I put it, was grudgingly accepting, but it changed things between us. I think some of her veneer fell away. It’s easy to offer unconditional love if it’s never tested.’

  Bea liked his phrasing. ‘I guess that’s true. I’m of the opinion that you love who you love and if you’re loved back then that is the greatest gift in the world. That’s all that really matters – the old saying is true, it really does make the world go around. I’ve lived in Sydney long enough to understand that love comes in many shapes and forms.’

  ‘Oh God, you’d be one of those parents that was disappointingly understanding.’ Alex smiled, showing a glint of yesterday’s exuberance.

  ‘Oh, I see! Not shocked enough. Yes, I get it, that wouldn’t really help the sense of rebellion, would it?’

  ‘Not even a little bit.’ He sipped his tea. ‘She told me I was giving up so much and I was too young to know my own mind. I half expected her to tell me that it was a phase.’ He rolled his eyes.

  ‘She was probably just having trouble digesting the news. And she did have a point.’

  ‘In what way did she have a point?’

  ‘Well, as a mother, we want our children’s lives to be as easy as possible. We want them to flourish, be happy. And any route they take that might make those goals harder to achieve can be difficult for us to accept. It’s not about your sexuality – who gives a fig about that? It’s more about you leading a life that could expose you to others’ prejudices. The thought of your kids suffering for a single second because of other people’s ignorance or outmoded views, the idea that they might face hatred or opposition, well, that’s hard. She was probably worried that your path might not always run smooth.’

  ‘Whose life does?’ Alex blinked.

  ‘True.’ She smiled, placing the delicate white china cup back in its saucer.

  ‘My dad was incredible. He just hugged me and told me that he had loved me since the day I was born and would love me till the day he died and nothing would or could ever change that.’

  ‘That’s beautiful.’

  ‘And then when I met Robert and told my dad how it felt, that just by glancing at him, I knew, he told me he understood because he had been through something similar.’

  Bea nodded, slightly distracted, wondering if Flora was okay.

  ‘He told me it had happened when he was married to my mum.’

  ‘Oh, your poor mum!’

  Alex stared at her. ‘Yes. She never knew. My mum died a decade ago.’

  ‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’ She placed her hand on his arm and gave a gentle squeeze of condolence.

  ‘I told my dad a year or so after she had passed that he should try and find happiness, find love. I shan’t ever forget what he said to me. We were in the garden and he was cutting back the ivy, wearing gardening gloves and his old cricket hat. He said, “I found love once and it’s lived in my heart ever since. I don’t need to go looking for it, I carry it with me, in here,” and he patted his two fingers on his chest in the rhythm of a heartbeat.’ Alex paused. ‘I thought he was talking about my mum, but it turned out he wasn’t.’ He held her eye. ‘He was talking about a very brief but very deep love that he’d found when me and my sister were tiny and he was working away.’

  Bea was finding it hard to breathe. She was able to take breaths in but couldn’t exhale, not properly. She stared at Alex, whose emotion also threatened.

  ‘I told him to go and find it, go and find her, the woman who had lived in his heart.’

  Bea couldn’t contain the tears that spilled from her. She swallowed, trying to get the words out. ‘Why didn’t he?’ Her voice was small.

  ‘He did. He did! He travelled to the other side of the world and he found her. He found her address and then found out she was married and then found out she had a son.’

  Bea pushed the napkin into her face. Oh God. Oh, John. I can’t believe it, I can’t...

  Alex reached for her hand across the table. ‘He stayed for a few days, watching her coming and going. He just wanted to know she was happy, wanted to see where she lived. He didn’t want to upset her life, not once he knew she was settled and married. He saw her smiling, laughing, and just as beautiful as he’d remembered. He watched her in Manly, he saw her playing in the sand with a little girl...’

  My Flora, my little Flora.

  ‘And then he saw her with her son, who looked so familiar to him his legs nearly gave way on the spot. He says he looked like my twin sister, Moira. Not a bit like me, Xander, Alexander.’

  Bea couldn’t speak. Her nose ran and her tears flowed. This can’t be happening. This can’t be true.

  ‘He kept tabs on her: Beatrice Greenstock who used to be Beatrice Gerraty. He read snippets about her life wherever he could find them. Announcements in newspapers, stories about her business, anything he could devour at a distance. And then one day he saw that she had been widowed; her lovely husband who had made her laugh had died. He waited a year and he asked me to get in contact. He’d had the idea that I could tell her about the forum. And then he started emailing her.’

  Bea looked up and sniffed back her tears. ‘He started emailing me?’

  ‘Yes. It was him you were chatting to, becoming friends and swapping facts about your life with. Not me. He sat glued to that screen day and night, waiting for contact from you. He’s the walker, the one who can write about misty moors and tranquil lochs.’ He smiled.

  ‘Oh God! I can’t breathe...’ Bea pulled off her pashmina and rubbed her throat.

  ‘He was working out how to proceed, how to come clean, when you announced you were coming over! He’s been beside himself with joy and worry. And then today, quite out of the blue, Moira told him a story about a lady who was staying at The Balmoral and whose car had broken down, a lady who had come all the way from Australia...’

  ‘I... I don’t know what to say. I can’t... I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it.’ Bea was fighting for composure. ‘I thought that would be it. I thought I would glimpse him and that would be enough. It was enough, to see him happy!’

  ‘Don’t be mad at us.’

  She shook her head vigorously. ‘I’m not... not mad, just overwhelmed, scared, happy, everything!’

  ‘He’s on his way, Bea.’

  ‘What?’ She sat up straight, squinting across the table, trying to understand.

  ‘He’s on his way right now to you. He’ll meet you at the Christmas Café.’

  ‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’

  Alex took Bea’s hand as they collected Flora from her room and made their way to the little teashop off the Royal Mile.

  ‘So, what have I missed?’ Flora asked, keen to be filled in on the details and slightly concerned by Bea’s rather dazed expression.

  ‘Oh, honey, you are going to need major updating!’ Alex laughed as he whisked her round in a circle. The three of them were almost skipping, leaving footprints in the carpet of snow.

  When they arrived, Alex let them in and flicked on the lamps while Flora bounced on the spot. ‘Oh, Bea! He found you! He found you! Just imagine if you had stayed hidden, it would never have happened, but he found you!’ She was lost in the romance, the prospect of their reunion.

  ‘Come on, Flora, you and I can go upstairs and watch telly. Give them some privacy. The place is all yours, Bea.’ Alex stooped to gather up a rather arrogant-looking cat, who eyed Bea dismissively before turning his head in the opposite direction. ‘Yes, Professor Richards, this is the lady I was telling you about who isn’t too fond of cats.’

  ‘I’m sorry!’ Bea gushed. ‘It’s not that I’m not fond of cats, I just don’t have one!’ It wasn’t clear if she was apologising to Alex or Professor Richards.

  Alex stroked the cat’s ears. ‘Don’t worry, Bea, he’s not overly fond of you either, he told me.’ He grinned. ‘I’m so glad you aren’t mad at m
e. I was worried that Little Klitschko might have got her boxing skills from you and that when you found out, I might get a good pummelling!’ He gasped. ‘I’m so happy for you, Bea. It’s the most wonderful thing ever. It’s like a fairy tale.’ He turned in his lips, as if that might prevent his tears from welling up.

  ‘I wanted to ask you, where did “McKay” come from?’

  ‘It was my Robert’s name,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Of course it was.’ She paused. ‘Is Moira okay?’

  ‘She just wants Dad to be happy. That’s all we both want.’ He enveloped her in one of his warm hugs. ‘Let me take your coat.’ Alex eased her arms from the sleeves and ushered her towards the fire that was now roaring in the grate. ‘You look lovely.’ He stood back, admiring her snug jeans and loose, cream silk blouse.

  ‘I didn’t know what you’d want to eat, so I’ve prepared some snacks – cheese, oatcakes, homemade chutney, that kind of thing.’ He fussed, lining up the salt and pepper and twisting the mini Christmas tree on their table, until everything looked just so. ‘We’ll be upstairs if you need anything. Anything at all. You just have to yell or bang on the ceiling and I’ll be down quicker than you can say Jack Flash!’ He waved a warning finger at her, as if she were sixteen and not in her fifties.

  ‘Thank you, Alex. Thank you for everything.’ She was touched by his kindness.

  He winked at her before disappearing up the stairs with a gabbling Flora.

  Bea studied the opened bottle of red wine, sat in one of the chairs in front of the fire and fastened then unfastened the top button of her blouse, overly concerned about not looking too formal but also not showing too much of her crêpey décolletage. She pushed her hair behind her ears, then let it fall forward again. Her heart hammered and her palms were damp. She felt as if she had just stopped running and was fighting for breath.

  Exhaling slowly, she tried to calm herself. ‘For goodness sake, Bea, he knows you’re older. Just calm down!’ She nodded as the voice in her head screamed, He’s on his way! John, your John is coming here, right now! Any minute and you’ll see him again! She nodded again, still trying to reconcile the fact that Alex was Xander. She felt confused and elated all at the same time.