From Christmas to Eternity

by Caroline Anderson

  In his pocket, but he didn’t tell her that. ‘You go, have fun, I’ll see you later.’

  ‘OK. Well, I won’t be long. Two hours, max.’

  ‘OK.’

  That didn’t give him long, so as soon as she was off the drive he put Lottie in the buggy and walked briskly back to the jewellers.

  ‘I’m looking for an eternity ring for my wife,’ he said to the assistant. ‘She likes antique rings. We walked past yesterday and I saw some in the window, but I couldn’t really look. I want it to be a surprise. It has to go with this.’

  He showed her Lucy’s engagement ring, and she took him outside so he could point out the rings he liked, but there were none that were quite right.

  ‘I want—oh, can’t remember what it’s called. Smooth setting, no claws, like this one, so it doesn’t catch on things.’

  ‘Cushion set.’

  ‘Yes, that’s it.’

  ‘In gold, or platinum?’

  ‘Gold. Her other rings are gold.’

  ‘We’ve just had one in that might answer. If you could hold on, I’ll see if it’s been cleaned yet.’

  She went out the back, and reappeared with the ring in her hand. ‘This is it. The diamonds are very good, apparently, so it’s going to be expensive. I’m not sure if we’ve got a final valuation. Would you like to speak to the jeweller?’

  He stared at it, a strange feeling coming over him. He could picture it on Lucy’s finger, see her hand worn and old, the ring still there even though the knuckle had grown thickened with age. Would they still be together then, as much in love as the Darbys had evidently been? He hoped so.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  A man emerged from the back, an eyeglass hanging round his neck. ‘I gather you’re interested in this ring.’

  ‘Yes. I want an eternity ring for my wife. I promised her one eight years ago but I just haven’t got round to it.’

  ‘Ah.’ He smiled. ‘Well, this is a beautiful ring. It belonged to the grandmother of a friend of mine and he asked me to sell it for him. He didn’t like to part with it, but there’s nobody in the family for him to leave it to; he said it was too beautiful to go in a drawer and he wanted it to be loved.’

  He held it in his hand, stroked his finger over the smooth setting, turned it so it caught the light. ‘I can see why. It’s lovely.’

  ‘It’s a very good ring. A little worn, but nothing that can’t be repaired. And the diamonds are flawless. Beautiful diamonds.’

  They were. Even though they were cushion set, when the light caught them they sparkled like fireworks.

  ‘What size ring does your wife take?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve brought her engagement ring with me if that helps? She wears it all the time so I guess it still fits.’

  ‘Perfect. Let me check.’

  It was the right size, and he just knew Lucy would love it. The price was irrelevant, and he would have paid twice as much. ‘Does it need repair?’

  ‘A little. It’s been worn next to another ring and the shoulder needs rebuilding. The setting’s a little thin and it would be hard to match a diamond as good as these if you lost one.’

  ‘Go for it,’ he said.

  He paid for it, slipped her engagement ring back into his pocket and walked home. He bought some nice ham from the deli on the way past, and arrived back just as Lucy turned onto the drive.

  ‘Perfect timing,’ he said, the ring burning a hole in his pocket. ‘I bought some ham. You make lunch, I’ll sort Lottie out.’

  He changed the baby’s nappy, and then went into the kitchen just as Lucy put a pile of sandwiches on the table.

  ‘I found your ring,’ he told her, handing it to her. ‘It was in the bathroom.’

  ‘Really? I looked there. I must be going blind. Never mind. Thanks.’

  ‘So, how did your shopping trip go?’ he asked her, trying not to look guilty.

  Well, was the answer. She brought two bulging carrier bags in from the car as soon as they’d had lunch, and they spent the next two hours wrapping presents and hiding them in the loft ready for Christmas.

  ‘Right, that’s all the presents done,’ she said. ‘Well, except yours. What do you want? Any ideas?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing you can give me,’ he said, trying to smile, and her face fell and she hugged him.

  ‘Oh, darling. It’s really early days. Don’t give up. It’ll all be fine.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, even though he didn’t. ‘How about you? What do you want?’

  She smiled a little shakily. ‘The same thing as you. I guess we might have to wait a little longer for our Christmas presents.’

  Except he had hers, or he hoped he did.

  He’d been promised the ring would be ready in time, and he felt a tingle of anticipation. He couldn’t wait to see her face when he gave it to her. He knew she’d love it.

  He went into work the next day, and cornered James in a rare quiet moment.

  ‘Can we have a word?’

  ‘Sure. You’re sounding better.’

  ‘That’s what I want to talk to you about. I want to come back to work.’

  ‘Ah. Coffee?’

  ‘Yeah. Shall we go to the café?’

  ‘Good idea.’

  They got their coffees and settled in a corner of the café out of the way of the other customers. ‘So—you think you’re ready to come back?’

  He remembered his conversation with Jean Darby’s son, the way the words had vanished, and shrugged.

  ‘I’m getting there. I’m just not sure what I have to do to prove it. I suppose there are procedures—boxes to tick?’

  ‘Oh, bound to be. I was talking to Occupational Health, and they said they’d need a report from your neurosurgeon, and another from your speech and language therapist.’

  He nodded. ‘What about if I come back under supervision?’

  ‘The same, I think,’ James said. ‘In fact, I’m sure they’d insist on it, at least for a month or so.’ He sighed and stirred his coffee, then met his eyes again. ‘Look, Andy, it’s none of my business, but why are you rushing this? Why not just take the time and enjoy your family? God knows you’re lucky enough to have one.’

  He felt a stab of guilt. James was only two years older than him, but he’d been widowed for ten years, as long as he and Lucy had been married.

  ‘I know I’m lucky, but what good am I to them if I can’t work?’

  James gave an ironic little laugh. ‘I know you, Andy. You’re nothing if not organised, and I’d be astonished if you don’t have really good critical illness cover, not to mention substantial savings and a cast-iron pension scheme with guaranteed equity. If you can’t work, your family will still be taken care of.’

  He felt himself colour slightly. ‘OK. Rumbled.’

  ‘So go home, get well, enjoy them all and come back when you’re ready and not before. You don’t want to get back and find you’re out of your depth because you’ve rushed it.’

  He was right. Frustrated, but knowing it made sense, he went home and resigned himself to another few weeks of pottering aimlessly.

  Or, he thought, he could do something about the garden. They’d talked for ages about having a bigger patio to take advantage of the sun, and even if he didn’t do that, there were a million other jobs he could do out there.

  So he changed into scruffy clothes, pulled on his boots and his dog walking coat and went out into the garden, secateurs in hand, and cut down all the perennials. There was a shrub that had grown wildly out of control, and he cut it back, too, and shredded it, and then another one because it looked out of balance after he’d hacked the first one back.

  By the time he’d finished it was almost dark, the compost bin was full and the girl
s were home, so he went inside and sat down at the dining table to help them with their homework.

  If he could do nothing else yet, he could do that, he thought, but it seemed they didn’t need him. Homework was making sure their costumes were all ready for the nativity play, and that was Lucy’s department, so he took himself off to the study and tried to read the paper that had flummoxed him before.

  It was no better. In fact, it was worse, and in sheer frustration he shredded it, changed into his running clothes and took the dog out for a run along the dimly lit pavements.

  It was a good job he did, because as he ran past the Walkers’ house, he glanced at it and saw Daisy leaning on the front door, panting.

  He stopped in his tracks and went up the path. ‘Daisy?’

  ‘Oh—Andy! Oh, I’m so glad it’s you. I’ve gone into labour and I can’t get hold of Ben. Can you call him for me? He’s gone late-night shopping and he probably can’t hear over all the Christmas jingles.’

  ‘Of course I’ll call him. What are you doing outside? You’ll freeze. Where’s Thomas?’

  ‘Inside. I’d just put him to bed and I heard a car pulling up, so I came out to see if Ben was coming and it just hit me.’

  ‘Let’s get you back in, you’ll be freezing.’

  He led her back inside, told Stanley to sit and called Ben while she leant over the sink and moaned softly.

  ‘OK, he’s on his way. What can I do?’

  ‘Nothing. Stay with me. It feels a bit—ah!’

  ‘Daisy, don’t do this to me,’ he muttered under his breath, but it seemed she was, so he shut the dog out in the utility room and made Daisy comfortable on the kitchen floor on some towels he found in the airing cupboard.

  She was kneeling up, draped over a chair, rocking and moaning softly, and he knelt beside her and rubbed her back.

  ‘Oh, Ben, where are you?’ she was asking, and he nearly laughed because it so exactly echoed his thoughts.

  The last thing—absolutely the last thing—he needed was to end up delivering the baby of a colleague who was an obstetrician! But he’d done it before, and no doubt he could do it again, if the need arose. He just hoped it didn’t.

  ‘It’s OK, Daisy, you’re doing fine, just hang on,’ he said, but she couldn’t, it seemed. Unless he was mistaken, the baby was coming any moment.

  ‘OK, Daisy, pant,’ he urged. ‘Don’t push.’

  ‘Got to push!’

  ‘No. Just pant, little light breaths. Come on, you can do it,’ he pleaded.

  And then, just when he thought he was going to have to deliver it, he heard a key in the front door and Ben was there.

  He took one look, rinsed his hands hastily and caught his baby as she emerged purple and furious into the world.

  Redundant now, Andy left them in peace and went upstairs to Thomas, who was screaming in his cot.

  ‘Hey, little guy, you’ve got a sister,’ he said, picking him up and cuddling the fractious child as he walked along the landing. ‘Isn’t that clever of Mummy?’

  ‘It would have been cleverer of Mummy to have realised she was in labour a little earlier,’ Ben growled affectionately from the bottom of the stairs. ‘Bring him down. She’s respectable for a minute.’

  Andy carried Thomas downstairs and into the kitchen, a lump forming in his throat. Daisy was smiling down at the baby in her arms, Ben was looking swamped with emotion and it was getting pretty mutual.

  ‘Anything I can do?’

  ‘Yes. Put Thomas in his high chair and hold the baby while I sort Daisy out.’

  He handed him the streaky little bundle, and he sat down at the kitchen table next to Thomas and chatted to them both while Ben took care of his wife.

  He could hear Stanley whining softly, and then his phone rang, so he slid it out of his pocket and spoke to Lucy.

  ‘I’m at the Walkers’. Daisy just had the baby. I ran past and she was in the front garden looking out for Ben.’

  ‘What! What is it? Are they all right?’

  ‘A girl, and they’re fine. Ben’s home now, just in time. I’ll stay here for a bit, as long as they need me, and then I’ll come home, OK?’

  ‘OK. Are you all right?’

  He laughed softly. ‘I’m fine. Just fine. I’ll see you soon.’

  He was fine, he realised. This was what life was about, not going back to work before he was ready. What was that saying? Nobody ever died wishing they’d spent another day at the office?

  And anyway, there was still plenty more to do at home.

  * * *

  The feeling of euphoria lasted a whole three days.

  Then an envelope arrived from the exam board, dropping innocently to the mat in a clutch of Christmas cards.

  ‘This is for you,’ Lucy said, handing it to him at the kitchen table, and he put his mug down and stared at it as if it was poisoned.

  ‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’

  ‘No point,’ he said flatly. ‘I know what it says.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I screwed up!’ he yelled, losing it. He slammed his chair back and it hit the wall, and Lottie started to cry, but he wasn’t there to see it. He’d gone, grabbing his coat and disappearing out of the door.

  The sound of the slam reverberated around the house, and Lucy picked the baby up and shushed her comfortingly. ‘It’s all right, darling, Daddy’s just struggling a bit,’ she said, struggling herself against the tears.

  ‘Da-da,’ Lottie said, peering over her shoulder, her bottom lip wobbling.

  ‘He’ll be back,’ she said reassuringly, but she

  needed reassurance as much as Lottie, because she wasn’t sure when he’d be back, or what mood he’d be in.

  She stared at the envelope lying harmlessly on the table where he’d dropped it like a hand grenade.

  Should she pull the pin out?

  * * *

  ‘You passed.’

  He stopped in the doorway and stared at her. She was sitting on the stairs, the letter in her hands, and the house was quiet. Lottie must be asleep, he realised, and closed the door quietly.

  ‘So what?’ he said. It made no difference. He couldn’t use the qualification, and all the course had done was ruin his marriage.

  ‘So what? What do you mean, so what? You really wanted to do this course. You said it was important. If it wasn’t important, why the hell did you do it?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ he said, and snatching the letter from her, he took it into the study and shut the door firmly.

  It was a minute before he could look at it, and then the print blurred. Of all the useless pieces of paper...

  He filed it, just because he was like that, and when he came out she was upstairs with Lottie, changing her nappy.

  ‘I’m going in the garden,’ he said, and got the shredder and loppers out of the shed and started savaging the hedge that bordered the drive. It was hanging over the gravel, restricting the turning space, and it needed cutting back.

  So he cut it.

  Hard.

  Lucy watched him from the bedroom window, wincing as he decimated the bushes. Hopefully they’d recover, she thought, and she finished putting away the washing and carried Lottie downstairs, putting her on her play mat with a pile of toys while she wrote the last of the Christmas cards.

  She made herself a cup of coffee to help the task along, but she just felt sick. She hated it when he was so upset, hated it when she couldn’t reach him, but in this mood he was best left alone to work it out for himself.

  She pushed the coffee away, finished the cards and put Lottie in the buggy. ‘We’re going to the post office,’ she told him, pausing beside him on the drive.

  He didn’t stop, just grunted and carried on hackin
g, and she winced again and left him to it. There was nothing she could do to help him, and there was something she’d been meaning to do for days.

  She went to the post office, bought a card and some flowers and a present for Thomas, and took them round to Daisy.

  ‘Wow, you’re looking well,’ she said when Daisy opened the door.

  ‘I am. I’m so grateful to Andy, he was amazing, so calm. I was just totally freaked out. He’s a good doctor.’

  She swallowed. He was a good doctor, but would he ever get the chance to practise again?

  For the first time ever, a seed of doubt crept into her mind, and she wondered how he’d cope with that. Not well, if the hedge was anything to go by.

  ‘Do you want a cuddle?’ Daisy asked, and handed her the baby.

  So small. So fine and dainty and tiny, the little fingers clinging instinctively to hers. She felt a huge lump in her throat and swallowed hard.

  ‘She’s beautiful. She’s very like you.’

  ‘Well, good, because Thomas is the spitting image of Ben and it strikes me I’ve done all the work so far,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Fancy a coffee? You can have it with or without caffeine.’

  She stared at the baby. ‘Can I have tea?’ she said, a little thoughtfully. She couldn’t be. Surely not? Even though her cycle hadn’t returned yet, they’d been careful.

  Except once, the day he’d been told he had a tumour, the day they’d gone to London to see David Cardew. And again in the utility room, she remembered. OK, twice, then. But even so...

  ‘Are you all right?’ Daisy asked, and she looked up and met her eyes and found a smile.

  ‘I’m fine. Just amazed at how tiny she is. I’d sort of forgotten how small they are.’

  ‘I know. She makes Thomas seem enormous. Biscuit?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  It was plain, thankfully, just a simple shortcake biscuit, and she dunked it in her tea and nibbled it and chatted to Daisy while her thoughts whirled round and round.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE hedge was trashed.

  She’d known it would be, but then he started on the back garden and she couldn’t watch it any longer so she tackled him about it.