I Won't Be Home For Christmas

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘You’re quite safe, the ground flattens out in a bit.’ He laughed, looking straight ahead. And it did, suddenly, as the truck crested and emerged onto a plateau.

  She was quite unprepared for what lay before her. It was utterly magnificent. It was as if she was sitting on the top of the earth. She let go of the seat and sat forward until her face was as close to the windscreen as she could get.

  ‘Oh, Gil! Oh my word.’

  He slowed to a stop and cut the engine, pulling on the handbrake. Vivienne jumped out and walked forwards, propping herself against the bonnet with her hand shading the sun from her eyes. ‘I have never seen anything like it in my whole life.’

  She let her eyes sweep left to right and back again, trying to take in the spectacular vista. The arcing dips and swells of the land held dense woods, clustered together amidst the green, green grass, with soaring mountains in the distance and the rugged coastline unfurling to the left. The blue sky was flecked with light clouds and the sea sparkled beneath the sun’s rays. It was like standing in a painting of heaven.

  ‘I cannot imagine what it must be like, being able to come up here every day and look at this.’ She turned to face Gil, who was staring at her, not the view.

  ‘You can see why I prefer sheep and land to people.’ He smiled.

  ‘I must admit, I still feel guilty that we’ve come here en masse and shattered your peace. I feel sad for Michael and Emma and I don’t want you to think badly of us. I hate to think of all the plans having to be undone.’ Her voice rattled with nerves.

  ‘It’s not so difficult: a few phone calls and a group email and that’s pretty much it. And what we can’t cancel, we shall have to enjoy. Apparently Ellen’s already got her eye on the top tier of the cake.’ He gave her a short smile. ‘It’s Emma and Michael I’m worried about too, not anyone else’s opinions or having to cancel the caterers. That’s the easy bit.’

  ‘You are right, absolutely. And you are a good dad, you know. Michael’s lucky to have you.’

  Gil smiled, ‘I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before, I really appreciate it.’ He coughed, clearly choked by her compliment. ‘I’ve only ever done my best, picked up the slack after his mum left and muddled through, but most of the time it’s been guesswork.’

  ‘It’s the same for all of us,’ she acknowledged. ‘I said to Emma, you can only ever do what feels right at the time.’

  ‘I think it would have been easier doing it with someone by my side.’

  ‘Oh, tell me about it,’ she laughed. ‘It’ll be strange getting on that plane with Emma in a couple of days’ time. I reckon she might find the cold weather a bit of a change, after this.’ She was of course delighted that her daughter had decided to come back to Bristol for a while, giving her and Michael the space they needed and a chance to think everything through. ‘I’m a bit torn, Gil.’

  ‘In what way?’ He looked at her, awaiting her next words, his expression reminiscent of a child with his hands cupped for sweets.

  ‘Oh, you know, I wouldn’t have wished this outcome on them, but it will be lovely to have her back, even if it is only for a little while.’

  He exhaled, as if disappointed. ‘You can’t clip their wings, eh?’ he muttered.

  ‘No, not even if you want to.’

  ‘And what about you, Viv?’

  She liked the way he had slipped into calling her by this familiar abbreviation, the same as Ellen did, establishing them as friends.

  ‘What about me?’ She kicked the ground, a little coyly.

  ‘Are you looking forward to packing up and heading home?’

  She put her fingers into her jeans pockets and stared at the view, taking a big lungful of the pure, beautiful air. ‘Yes and no.’

  ‘Keep it vague, why don’t you?’ He laughed. They were both a little nervous.

  ‘I mean, I’m looking forward to getting Emma home, and to seeing my Bob, of course.’ She smiled at him, knowing he’d understand that. ‘But the thought of leaving here, going back to the gloom of a cold, drizzly winter, back to work… I don’t know, it’s not that appealing.’ She held his gaze briefly.

  ‘Well you could always stay here for Christmas?’ He spoke softly and with clarity.

  ‘What?’ She didn’t know why she asked him to repeat himself, having heard him perfectly. Maybe it was to give her a moment or two to consider her response.

  ‘I said, why don’t you stay here, with me, for Christmas.’

  ‘I…’ Vivienne felt a nervous giggle in her throat, which she swallowed. Was he mad?

  ‘So, what do you think?’ His voice was a little more strained now, as if nerves were affecting him too.

  ‘I feel warm here, Gil.’ She looked out towards the sea, committing the view to memory.

  ‘Well, it is a beautiful day.’ He nodded at the tranquil water glittering in the sunlight.

  She shook her head. ‘It’s not the weather, it’s in here.’ She placed the flat of her palm on her chest. ‘I feel alive, like I’m waking after a long, cold sleep, and it feels lovely.’

  ‘Is that a yes then?’ He smiled.

  ‘Oh, Gil.’ She shook her head. ‘No. It’s a no. And I appreciate your offer more than you know. But I need to get back to Bristol, to my little life on the other side of the world. It’s where I live, where I’m from, where my house is and my lovely son. This place is paradise. Everything here feels different.’ She shrugged. ‘And you are…’ She searched for the right words. ‘You are someone very special. But Emma needs me and Aaron too, it’s Christmas, a big deal, we have set ways…’

  ‘I see.’ He paused. ‘So if I was asking you to stay for a while in say, May, that would have made a difference? Or just before Easter, or Valentine’s?’ He gave a wry smile.

  She smiled back at the handsome, quiet, sheep-farmer cowboy. ‘I can’t, Gil. I can’t just stay here. It’s been a wonderful holiday but that’s it. I need to get home.’

  ‘Well you don’t have to, you could make a few calls, send an email, that’s the easy bit remember?’

  ‘Easy for some, maybe, but not for me. My life doesn’t work like that. I have an ordinary life – I work in Asda and I walk my dog, that’s it!’

  ‘Well, I don’t do much more here. I work the farm, walk my dog, take my boat out, ordinary stuff.’

  ‘Maybe the world feels a little less ordinary when you’ve got glorious sunshine for half the year and good New Zealand air to breathe.’ Her words, spoken to Ellen as they’d sat in Pedro’s with the rain trickling down the window, had never felt more poignant.

  The ringing of Gil’s phone made them both jump. He looked at the screen. ‘Home,’ he read, before taking the call.

  Despite standing at some distance from him, she could hear Ellen’s booming voice on the other end: ‘Gil? I’m in a right pickle here. Emma’s gone off on a bloody bike ride, of all things, and there’s a man here with a gert big tent thing who wants to put it up on your lawn. I’ve told him there’s no point, but he’s pulling out ropes and whatnot nonetheless. A shedful of flowers has been dumped on the front porch, looks like Kew bloody Gardens out here, and the cake is listing in the heat. I think I might need a bit of help!’

  ‘We’re on our way, Ellen.’ He ended the call and opened the driver’s door of the truck. ‘Seems like some of those phone calls and that group email I mentioned didn’t quite reach everyone. We’d better get back.’

  Vivienne climbed into the cab. ‘I’m sorry, Gil,’ she whispered.

  ‘Oh, don’t be, we’ll sort it out. It’s not a big deal. We can send the gazebo back and distribute the flowers to everyone in town, how’s that sound?’ He avoided her gaze as he swung the truck around at speed and headed down the steep hillside, bumping in and out of the ruts without another word.

  Both were acutely aware that the state of affairs at the house was not what she’d been apologising for.

  *

  Ellen stood by the porch in her white trousers and pi
nk-and-blue paisley tunic, looking quite lovely among the pots of flowers that had been delivered. ‘What am I supposed to do with this lot?’ she asked, bending down to admire the gorgeous terracotta pots of hydrangeas and cream and pink roses.

  ‘Let’s move them up to the deck,’ Vivienne suggested, ‘then they’ll be out of the way. Plus they’ll look pretty.’

  She was happy to be kept busy, quite unable to process the fact that Gil had asked her to stay for Christmas – as if that was at all possible for someone like her – and at the same time lamenting the fact that she only had a few more days in his company. She and Ellen spent the next hour ferrying the pots, one by one, up to the deck and placing them in clusters in the corners, where they did indeed look splendid.

  ‘I need a rest!’ Ellen flopped down on the wicker sofa and lay back, closing her eyes.

  Vivienne took the seat next to her. ‘The view from the top of the farm is something else, Elle, like heaven.’

  ‘Ooh I’d like to see that, funny though, Gil doesn’t seem half as keen to spend time alone with me.’ Her friend chuckled. Vivienne ignored her.

  ‘I sometimes wonder where I’ll end up,’ she thought aloud, as she watched the boats glide by in the early afternoon sun. The Dive! Tutukaka boat passed at speed across her sightlines, heading back to the marina by Schnappa Rock. She wondered what it might feel like to dive up at the Poor Knights. There was so much on the planet that was alien to her.

  Ellen picked up the thread. ‘If you could end up anywhere, where would it be?’

  She shrugged. ‘Dunno. It’s hard to picture anywhere other than Mendip Road. But I sometimes think I might quite like the Lake District.’

  Ellen laughed and then quickly checked herself, glancing at the flowers that had been meant for a celebration that was no longer happening. ‘I don’t know why that’s funny!’ she whispered. ‘I guess I thought you might say Redland or Weston-Super-Mare – you know, really push your boundaries. I wasn’t expecting the Lake District. Whereabouts?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve never been.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Ellen sniffed.

  ‘I saw a programme about it a few years ago, and I think about it sometimes. The rolling hills, the mountains and the beautiful lakes. It looked like a film set, gorgeous, like proper patchwork. And so much space! I thought I’d like to live there in a cottage, with a goat and Bob.’

  ‘Well I never, you dark horse, what a woman of mystery. I never knew you’d like a goat. I thought I knew everything about you.’

  ‘Well there you go.’ She smiled. ‘I thought I knew everything about you, but apparently I didn’t. Fourteen…’ She shook her head and tutted.

  ‘Oh don’t start on that again.’

  They giggled like teens.

  ‘I imagine the air in the Lakes to be like nectar, a bit like this. I bet you can really breathe.’ She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

  Ellen gave her a sideways glance. ‘You know you wouldn’t like living there. Too far from me.’

  ‘Blimey, Elle, I’ve never eaten watermelon on a tropical beach, or sipped champagne with a view of Paris or slept for twelve hours and woken up feeling like a queen, but I bet none of those things are horrible. Just because I haven’t done something or seen something, doesn’t mean I won’t like it. I’m sure I would.’

  ‘What’s got into you, Mrs?’ Ellen sat forward and stared at her mate.

  ‘Nothing. It’s just been a funny old day.’

  ‘It has that.’

  The sound of muffled tears floated on the breeze behind them. Both sat up and turned to see Emma, newly returned from her bike ride and staring at the stunning floral display that surrounded them on the deck.

  ‘Dad got off okay, I checked. He’s on his way back to Australia right now.’ She swiped at her tears.

  Vivienne and Ellen exchanged a look of relief. There’d been a lurking doubt in Vivienne’s mind that Ray might have hung around.

  Emma had now started crying in earnest.

  ‘Oh, love!’ Vivienne stood up and beckoned her over. ‘Come and sit with us.’

  Emma plonked down between the two of them. ‘This is supposed to be the night before my wedding and look at me!’ She sniffed.

  ‘You can’t have it both ways, Emma. You can’t have a change of heart, tell everyone to get off the bus and then cry about it,’ Ellen said firmly.

  Both Vivienne and Emma stared at her.

  ‘What? I’m only saying!’ Ellen yelled.

  There was a beat of silence while Vivienne waited to see how Emma would react. To her credit, she sat up straight and looked directly at the woman who had been an aunt figure all her life. ‘You’re right, Elle. I need to get it together.’ She exhaled, tipping her head back and straightening her shoulders, as if limbering up. ‘I think, Mum, that I might go up to Auckland tonight, say my goodbyes to Michael on the way and then go and see my friends. I can meet you both at the airport for our flight. Would that be okay?’

  ‘Of course, love. You do what you need to. We’ll be okay here, won’t we, Elle?’

  Ellen crossed her arms over her large chest. ‘I don’t know, Viv, first Michael, then Ray, now Em – we only need Gil to do a runner and we’ve got the place to ourselves.’

  The three laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

  ‘I don’t know if I want to be here on my own with those two, I’ll feel like a prize gooseberry.’ Ellen spoke without thinking, as was often the case.

  Emma turned to her mum. ‘What’s she talking about? Surely you don’t fancy Gil?’ Her expression was hard to read, but if she had to call it, looking at the set of her eyebrows and the twist to her mouth, Vivienne would have gone for extreme disapproval.

  ‘Of course I don’t!’ she protested, giving a small cough to clear her throat. ‘That’s just Elle’s idea of being funny, which she isn’t. Ever.’ She glared at her friend, who began to sulk.

  *

  After helping Emma pack, they stood in front of the house.

  ‘See you at the airport.’ Emma gave them a small smile, as she climbed into Gil’s truck. Driving her to Whangarei would give Gil the chance to check on how Michael was faring, he had offered right away.

  ‘Thanks for taking her, Gil. We’ll see you later. Can I get you something to eat when you get in?’ Vivienne asked, aware of the echo of domesticity in her offer and the way her cheeks flamed accordingly.

  ‘No, you’re all right. I’ll grab something on the way home,’ he said mournfully, avoiding her stare.

  ‘We’ll see you later then,’ she whispered.

  He gave a single nod.

  Emma waved out of the window until the truck turned around the wide bend of the drive and disappeared into the dusk.

  Vivienne and Ellen stared into the space they left behind, standing in silence as the squawks of the seabirds below rose in what sounded like a chorus of farewell to Emma, who had lived among them for a short time.

  Ellen turned to face her friend. ‘Fancy a bit of cake?’

  ‘Why not.’

  The two linked arms and made their way into the kitchen.

  As their conversation became punctuated with more and more yawns and repetitions, Vivienne knew it was time for bed.

  ‘What a bloody day.’ Ellen sighed as she climbed into her bed. ‘And I’ve eaten too much cake,’ she moaned, rubbing her stomach inside her pyjamas. ‘I shan’t be putting my pink string bikini on any time soon.’

  ‘Amen for that.’ She whispered, ‘I hope Emma’s okay. And Michael.’ Vivienne thought about the young man who was the reason they had come to Aropari in the first place, and then she thought about his dad. ‘It’s good that Gil is going to take a break on the way home. It’s harder to concentrate when your head’s a muddle and you’re tired, and some of those twisty roads are a bit tricky. I hope he doesn’t think we’re rude not waiting up for him, but I’m beat.’

  ‘He won’t mind, I’m sure. And don’t you worry. I’ll bet he knows t
hose roads like the back of his hand.’

  ‘Yep, probably.’

  ‘Wonder where Ray is. Will he be home by now?’ Ellen spoke through her yawn.

  ‘Don’t know. Don’t care,’ Vivienne said as she picked up her toothbrush.

  ‘Don’t know. Don’t care!’ Ellen imitated her with a squeaky, irritated voice that, despite her tiredness, made her laugh.

  Vivienne slipped between the sheets and was glad to see the end to the day. She ran her palm over the pillow where Emma had earlier cried and sent her thoughts of love and positivity out over the ether, just as she had every single night for the last four years, only tonight her prayers had a little less further to travel. To Aaron too she said goodnight, sent love and hoped that his decorating chore wasn’t too taxing, the poor love. Her final thought was of Gil. She lay with sleep lapping at her, picturing the landscape at the top of Aropari and hearing his words in her head, words that echoed with possibilities: ‘Why don’t you stay here, with me for Christmas…’

  *

  It was a little after midnight that she twisted in the white cotton sheet, letting her slender limbs dangle from the mattress, eager to catch even the slightest breeze that might flutter through the open French doors and across the terracotta floor. She changed position yet again, casting the sheet to the middle of the bed and hating the dull, taunting whut, whut sound of the oversized wooden ceiling fan that seemed only to swirl the heat around and offered nothing by way of relief. She wished she’d asked how to put the air conditioning on before everyone had left.

  Ellen was snoring, as ever in the deepest sleep. Vivienne pictured her face squashed against the window of the funicular in Hong Kong, her mouth open as she snoozed, oblivious. It made her smile.

  A mosquito whined from a dark shadow, hovering tantalisingly close and yet invisible. She waited for it to land, swatting at her skin in anticipation of its arrival. Mosquitoes loved her. All it took was a quick circuit of St John’s on a summer’s evening and she’d be covered in bites, returning home to dab at them with calamine lotion. Ellen took great pleasure in referring to her as ‘an-all-you-can-eat bug buffet’.

  She sat up in the bed and blew upwards into her fine fringe, trying to cool down. It was too hot for her to sleep. The pleasant summer warmth that had earlier soothed her bones and massaged her skin had become a strength-sapping heat that made doing even the smallest of tasks quite tiring and rendered sleep nearly impossible.