by Lucy Coleman
It’s good to hear and not quite what I expected. My eyes flit around the room.
‘A lot has changed since I was last here, then, in many ways.’
Olwen thinks I mean the Christmas decorations.
‘Nic thought the family renting the cottage would expect there to be Christmas trimmings; well, that’s the excuse he gave but he enjoyed doing it. He has great taste, doesn’t he?’
He certainly does. There’s no Christmas tree, but instead he’s recycled one of the fallen trees from the woods. It reaches almost to the ceiling and Nic has stripped most of the smaller branches away, leaving five main branches that angle upwards like a tulip. He’s sprayed it white and attached some very pretty metal reindeer heads. A garland hangs on the long wall behind the sofa, made up of small pieces of driftwood, interspersed with stars made out of twigs.
‘It’s beautiful.’
Olwen can see I’m a little overcome to be here again and she gives me a gentle hug.
In my head I’m transported back to the last Christmas that Mum, Dad, Will and I were together. As dutiful offspring we were making the pilgrimage home without realising it would prove to be a landmark occasion. Nothing would ever be the same again and yet it seemed normal at the time, as in the new normal given that we no longer lived at home.
Traditionally, every year Mum used a different theme when decorating the tree and that particular year was her nod to the Victorians. Strewn with handmade popcorn garlands, small bags of homemade fudge and sparkling chains of silver beads, she’d even managed to find small white candles in tiny silver holders. They graced the ends of each branch, although they remained unlit.
It had served to remind both Will and myself of the years gone by and the fun it had been getting hands on with making decorations for the tree. Making biscuits to decorate and hang from ribbons and the year of the white paper lanterns; Mum had shown us how to fold the paper and with a few deft cuts create latticework. And the year of the handmade crackers that drove us all crazy as it’s a lot harder than you might imagine. But it was all a big part of our family Christmas preparations as children and suddenly we realised how lucky we’d been. It was a Christmas for being grateful for the time and effort Mum and Dad had always put into making it more than simply about the presents waiting to be unwrapped. I realise that it was being surrounded by the people I loved the most that made it special and this Christmas I intend to make sure that my loved ones know how special they are to me.
‘When do your brother and his family arrive?’
I shake off the wave of sadness that clutches at my heart for the briefest of moments as the loss of Mum and Dad weighs heavily upon me. Gone but never forgotten. This year, Mum, it’s going to be different – I promise.
‘Tomorrow, late afternoon. We’ll have a leisurely meal and they can settle in. I thought I would take them into Mumbles on Friday for some shopping and general sightseeing. Then, Christmas Eve morning it will be all go preparing for the party.’
‘Ah, before I forget. Someone from the farm,’ she stops to raise her eyebrows and give me a knowing look, ‘will drop the turkey down later today. I said after four. I’ve loaded up the fridge and freezer as instructed. The last-minute stuff you ordered will also arrive sometime today. When you pop out to see Max just leave a note on the door and they’ll either come back, or leave it on the doorstep. I wish I could stay and help you unpack but I have non-stop bookings right through until six tonight. Good luck, you know, for later.’
‘You are a star, Olwen and I can’t thank you enough. And no one knows it’s me, right, except for those you’ve given party invites to – Rhys, Gareth and his wife, and Tom? And they will keep it quiet?’
She swipes her hand across her mouth as if zipping it up.
‘It’s our little secret. You do need to tell Max you’re here, before anyone else breaks the news.’
After she’s gone the cottage feels empty. I begin ferrying my things upstairs and end up having to gulp back down the lump that rises in my throat. I didn’t think the memories would be so vivid.
‘Pull yourself together, Tia.’ My voice echoes back at me as I climb the stairs.
Tomorrow Will, Sally and little Bella arrive. A day and a half is plenty of time to relax, in between introducing them to the area. Then on Saturday, it will be fun preparing for the Christmas Eve party. Hopefully, it will pull us all much closer together and we’ll forget this is a first, because there will be so much going on around us. The cottage isn’t huge, so although I’ve only invited a handful of guests, it should be enough to make it a lively gathering. I’m hoping that Max and Nic will accept the invite I’ll be extending to them both, too. Whether they will turn up, well, that’s entirely up to them, but this Christmas if I can’t be with Mum, then at least I’m not going to be maudlin. Life is what you make it and if you choose to wallow instead of grabbing as much happiness as you can, then that’s a personal choice. I choose happiness and even if Nic snubs me, I’ll have to accept there’s nothing I can do about that. What’s important is that I will, at least, have tried.
*
Max opens the door and a waft of heat blasts out at me, rather like a furnace.
‘Well, this is an unexpected, but very welcome, surprise.’ He looks really pleased to see me.
‘Come in, Tia, don’t stand out there in the cold. It’s so good to see you.’
As I step over the threshold Max scoops me up in a hug that lifts me off the floor a good inch.
‘I can’t stay. I only wanted to let you know I’m here for the holidays.’
He looks rather disappointed, as clearly he’d like me to sit for a while, but then his face breaks into a smile.
‘You need to settle in. I did wonder who had rented the cottage. Guess there’s going to be a little Christmas cheer in Holly Cove this year, after all.’
‘I need you to do something for me. I know you are a very private man and I understand that, but I’m going to ask you to step outside your comfort zone to help me out. I’ll explain later. Can you come up to the cottage around three-thirty this afternoon? We can chat while I do some food prep as I have guests arriving tomorrow.’
His eyes narrow slightly, but the impact of my arrival is enough for him to shrug it off.
‘Thank you, Max. I have missed our talks, you know, even if they were always rather short.’
‘Well, people chatter on about a lot of nothing, if you ask me. But you didn’t. I’ll see you later, then.’
As I trudge back across the beach, I pull the collar of my coat up around my ears. It’s freezing cold and the wind is literally stinging my face. The sea looks choppy and is a dirty grey, reflecting the dark clouds above. But I realise what I’ve missed the most is the feeling of freedom. No one can tame nature, it is what it is and what I feel is a sense of life being about more than—
The sound of a van door slamming interrupts my thoughts. I hurry along the path to unlock the front door to the cottage. The delivery of fruit and vegetables has arrived. Now I have a couple of hours to unpack and make everything ready. It’s wintry outside and cosy within, but that could all change when the next van pulls up alongside the cottage. What I could be dealing with is not just a frozen turkey, but frozen looks and cold, angry words.
33
A Storm is Brewing
Max settles himself down at the kitchen table with an air of reluctance. I pour him a large mug of coffee and set it down on the table, with a smile.
‘There’s more than coffee brewing in this kitchen. I’m not a fool.’
I glance at the clock as I take up my position in front of the chopping board, where I was slicing cooking apples for a pie. I’m sideways on to Max and I can feel his eyes on me.
‘No, you aren’t, but you are stubborn. Do you trust me, Max?’
‘At this moment I want to say no, but that isn’t the truth.’
I’m not going to give him a warning about what I have planned, because I know he would get u
p and leave.
‘Tomorrow my brother Will, his wife Sally and my little niece, Bella, are coming down here for a few days to stay with me. On Christmas Eve I’m going to be holding a small party here – now don’t panic.’
He squirms in his chair.
‘This is a tough Christmas for me as it’s the first without Mum. It’s hard, too, for Will and his family because they had lost contact with her and hadn’t seen her for several years. I don’t know many people here, so it will be Olwen, Rhys and Rhona, Gareth and his wife, and Tom. Now that’s not such an ordeal, is it? It would mean so much to me for you to be here.’
‘Why?’
Oh, I wasn’t expecting that.
‘Because there aren’t many people whose kindness touches my heart, but you are one of them, Max.’
He looks away, then sits quietly drinking his coffee.
‘Have you decided what’s going to happen to the cabins when you leave?’
Changing the topic of conversation works and Max explains that he’s decided not to sell up, although he’s only likely to make it back here a couple of times a year.
‘Have you told Nic?’
He grunts.
‘No. We haven’t spoken.’
There’s a knock on the door and I rinse my hands, dry them quickly and walk past Max’s chair.
‘Now might be the appropriate time then,’ I half-whisper. I know it won’t soften the blow but it gives him a few seconds to compose himself.
When I open the front door Nic is standing there, carrying a very large frozen turkey in his arms.
‘Tia.’ The colour begins to drain from his face as he stares at me. He blinks and I wonder if he, too, is having a flashback to happier times.
‘Hello, Nic. Merry Christmas. Can’t celebrate the day without a turkey, can you? Sorry, I’m in your way. Come in, you know where the kitchen is—’
My heart is jumping around inside of my chest like it’s trying to escape. As I follow Nic he suddenly stops in his tracks and I almost run into the back of him.
‘Um… I’ve just made coffee, I’ll fetch you a cup.’
Nic and Max are staring at each other and the sudden chill in the air makes me shiver. I quickly fill two mugs, one for Nic and one for myself, and carry them across to the table. Then I walk around to Nic, lift the turkey out of his arms and sit it in a large roasting tray to begin defrosting.
‘Take a seat. As you’re both here, there’s a little matter I’d like to clear up, but first I was telling Max about a small gathering I’m having on Christmas Eve. My brother and his family are arriving tomorrow and as it’s our first Christmas without Mum, I thought it would help everyone if we did something a little different. I don’t know many people here, so it will only be a small gathering, but Max has already agreed to make an effort on my behalf and join us. I was rather hoping you would, too.’
Nic has taken the seat opposite Max, but is still in shock; Max is extremely ill-at-ease but says nothing.
‘Christmas is a family time and I’m trying my hardest to make it special for the people I care about. As for the other matter, well, when I left here it was under a cloud. I know how it looked, but there was no way I could possibly have linked my boss, Clarissa Cooper, to either of you as she has never, as far as I can tell, used the surname Hartington. The day Max, out of concern for you, told me the two of you were related I was shocked. It was hard for me to take it in.’
Nic clears his throat, shifting uneasily in his seat.
‘Look, Tia, there’s too much you don’t understand. OK, I was a little out of line as I realised afterwards you wouldn’t knowingly have put yourself in that situation. You were manipulated. Good intentions don’t always turn out well and getting Max and me around the same table means nothing at all.’
It’s a start and at least no one is shouting – yet. Max shakes his head, then stares down into his coffee mug as if there’s something of interest at the bottom of it.
‘Manipulated is a strong word, Nic, with a nasty undertone. I admit, Clarissa is an expert at it and it’s because she usually has her own agenda. It goes with the job and you have to be tough to survive and even tougher to rise to the top of the heap. I believe that her explanation, that she was actually worried about you, was the real truth. It was never about me passing information back to her, because I didn’t know she knew you. Clarissa saw the two of us as damaged people, through no fault of our own, and thought we would recognise that in each other. Maybe bolster each other’s confidence a little and then part the better for it.’
‘But that wasn’t quite what happened, was it Tia?’ Max looks up at me and then turns his gaze towards Nic.
‘I think you should stay out of this, Max.’ Nic’s tone is abrupt.
‘So, what exactly are you blaming me for, Nic? Not being there because I was at sea? Divorcing your mother? I seem to have spent a lot of my adult life feeling guilty but not quite sure what I did wrong. I never meant to hurt anyone, least of all you. You were there for Georgina when I couldn’t be… when she didn’t want me to be.’
Max turns his head away from us both and I want to reach out to him, but I know I can’t interfere.
Nic lets out a sound like a low growl.
‘Where should I begin? My mother needed a man who could stand up to her, not one who turned a blind eye and pretended everything was fine. I needed you to fight for my rights. And your right to instil in me the qualities you thought were important for your son to value. You trained so many men in the Navy and yet you left me under the total control of a woman who pushed and pushed and pushed, until her values became mine. With success comes power, was her favourite saying. I never heard her mention the word happiness, ever.’
Max is now sitting with his head slumped forward, chin almost touching his chest. He rolls his shoulders back, straightening and sits upright, facing Nic square on and with his hands on the table.
‘It’s hard for a man to hear his son say something like that. To my mind, I was simply working to support my family. I know it’s tough on the families of anyone who is in the services, but it was also hard for me every time I returned home. In the early days, Clarissa didn’t have a high-flying career. She looked after both you and Georgina until you went to school and then she went back to work, part-time. She was different then, but you were probably too young to remember. As time went on it was clear that the only emotional connection between Clarissa and myself was the love we shared for our two children. She came to resent my visits home because it disrupted everyone’s routine. I no longer had a functioning place in your lives.’
I swallow hard, pulling my gaze away from Max to look at Nic. He turns his head slightly and he can see the sadness on my face.
‘It’s a plausible excuse, but you as good as got me fired. I lost virtually everything because of that day. You see, Tia, there are two sides to every story. I’m only sorry you were pulled into this one.’
Max lets out a mumbled expletive.
‘When I returned to London to confront Clarissa about why she was still refusing to think about a divorce, despite her longstanding affair, she was livid. Yes, Oliver Sinclair was a thorn in my side for a long time, but when she told me you were working for him I was horrified. It was like my worst nightmare had come true.’
‘Your. Worst. Nightmare?’ Nic’s staccato rhythm makes each word sound like an accusation. ‘So you walked into his office and when he called security and a brawl broke out you didn’t think that I’d jump to your defence and end up hitting him? Everything I’d worked for was gone in one split second because of your jealous rage.’
My eyes go from one to the other, seeing their pain and feeling helpless.
‘I wasn’t there to reclaim my wife, or exact revenge. I’m a man who is used to living in a disciplined way; keeping oneself under control under extreme duress is a part of my training and it’s now a part of me.’
Nic gasps, floundering for words.
‘You meant
to cause trouble and get me sacked?’
‘It seemed to be the only way to rescue you. I knew the dream you were chasing wasn’t yours; neither Georgina, nor you, had inherited Clarissa’s obsessive need for more. More money, more power – it’s a vicious circle. She’ll never be satisfied with what she has and that’s why Oliver is such a perfect partner for her; they understand each other. Whether there’s any real love there, who knows? But if that’s what she wants, then good luck to her.’
Max looks at Nic, but he doesn’t answer for several minutes. He sits with a deep frown on his forehead, staring down at the table. Suddenly his head tips back and he looks at Max, but this time it isn’t a stare.
‘And selling me the cottage when this wasn’t where I wanted to be. What was that about?’
‘I didn’t want anything from the divorce settlement except the cottage and Holly Cove. It was never about money. I had succeeded in getting you away from London, Clarissa and the mess you were making of your life just to please her. But you were vulnerable and without focus. I knew what this place meant to you and to us as a family. Those months you spent here with Georgina, a few years beforehand, were happy times for her despite the pain. When I told you that it was my intention to sell Beach View Cottage, I instinctively knew you couldn’t let me do that. With every penny you had tied up here, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be able to pay someone to do the renovation work.
‘I figured that by the time it was finished you’d be fitter both mentally and physically. And in doing that your sister would be very much in your heart. Love heals, my son. It’s important that you don’t let the past define who you are, Nic. Follow your own destiny because going forward there’s no one to blame but yourself. As harsh as that sounds, it’s true.’
With that, Max pulls himself up out of the chair and heads out of the kitchen. I jump up and throw my arms around him, kissing his cheek.
‘Thank you, Max,’ I whisper. He steps out to brave the bracingly-cold wind, without so much as a glance my way.