Christmas at Lock Keeper's Cottage

by Lucy Coleman

  Tollie lifts his bottle of The Bullrush Inn Christmas Brew and the chatter subsides for a moment.

  ‘Well, everyone around this table was instrumental in makin’ this a bumper year for our charity fund. Whether that’s sellin’ bottles like these—’ he tips his head to acknowledge Sarah, Kurt and Maggie’s sales efforts ‘—or helpin’ out on the The Star Gazer. And a special thanks has to go to our wonderful elves – Jude, Jade and Immi – Santa couldn’t have had a better trio to back him up. It isn’t money that makes the world go around, but kindness and love. And that’s somethin’ that Aysbury has a lot of, so here’s to the most amazing group of people. I feel blessed to call you my friends – merry Christmas, one and all. Ho! Ho! Ho!’

  It’s a fitting wrap-up to the pre-Christmas festivities. Once everyone is so full they can’t manage another bite, Fisher heads off to get another round of drinks, while Ethel, Abe and Maggie insist on clearing the table. Tollie makes his excuses and heads off with Bernie to begin getting Turnpike Cottage ready. He has a regular cleaner going in, but like Tollie, he finds himself surrounded by old furniture and things cluttering up the place. For Bernie, returning home will be a huge change and I know Tollie has really missed his old friend of many years. They went to school together and there are few people who can boast of a friendship spanning so many decades. These two men have lived in, or close to, Aysbury all their lives.

  Next, Sarah and the girls march off to organise the desserts, leaving just Valerie, Gray and me to sit back and relax.

  It’s dark outside now and inside is lit only by the diffusers overhead, and the strings of Christmas lights. Cosy, warm and inviting, this has become a home from home for us all.

  ‘While we’re here on our own, I’d like to thank you, Immi and Gray, for… oh, how can I put this into words?’ Valerie sits quietly for a moment, twisting her hands anxiously in her lap. ‘I… I’ve always felt on the edge of things and I know that was entirely my own fault. Who isn’t affected by what’s happened in the past and the disappointments we have to endure? But I’ve been touched by the way you’ve taken the time to include me in your little inner circle. It’s not been easy to lower my guard but now I have, my life feels different. So, I’d like to propose a toast to the two of you, and the exciting developments the new year is going to bring with it.’

  Valerie’s little speech obviously comes from the heart and Gray shoots me a rather poignant look as we clink glasses.

  ‘Valerie, you are such a great organiser and I know Tollie appreciates that. And my mum, well, she’s relieved to feel she has a friend here – someone who understands what it’s like joining an established, tight little community. It means a lot to us all that you’ve invited her to stay over Christmas. This year is going to be a little up in the air and, no doubt, a little disorganised, but next year, well, we’re going to have the party of all parties.’

  My heart leaps in my chest.

  ‘And in helping me out, so that I can be there for Martin, you’re putting a huge smile on Fisher’s face, too, Valerie. One that hasn’t been there for a long time.’

  She looks down, studying her hands as they lay still, now, in her lap.

  ‘He’s a very special man, Immi. Our paths rarely crossed in the past, but I think maybe – on reflection – he was avoiding me. We’ve become firm friends and we’re discovering that we have so many things in common. That’s been such a surprise. It really has.’

  We’ve all noticed the change in her. Gone is the barrier Valerie always put up, making it difficult for people to get close to her. But now, well, she’s speaking from the heart.

  ‘All I can say is that every time your name comes up it puts a smile on Fisher’s face. And that’s good to see.’

  Is Valerie blushing?

  ‘Strawberry Dreams coming up!’ Jude and Jade call out in unison, carrying a large platter between them. The proud look on their faces tells me that Sarah and Kurt have inspired two would-be chefs.

  ‘Perfect!’ I reply and Gray, Valerie and I exchange a look of contentment. Sometimes life brings things together rather nicely and all the hassle and problems of the past begin to dim.

  The holidays are finally here.

  18

  The Holly and the Ivy

  It’s Monday. But a Monday with a difference, because Gray is here now until he’s due to leave, on the twenty-seventh of December, to take Rona home to pack.

  Quickly grabbing a jute sack, I follow Gray out of the door. This morning the sky is a silky, vibrant blue. Without a single cloud in sight and the sun still low in the sky, it could be the start of a glorious summer’s day. However, everything around us is covered in a feathery, bone-chilling hoar frost.

  The scarves wrapped around our faces help to diffuse the sharp, icy intake that comes with each gulp of air. Venturing out without a hat, gloves and sturdy boots would be madness on a morning like this and yet the contrast of brightness and cold is exhilarating. There’s something so satisfying about the crispness and beauty of a winter scene that looks as if someone has sprayed everything in their path with hair-like white crystals.

  ‘This is a real winter wonderland, but my eyes are smarting with the cold and keep watering, even with my sunglasses on. I suppose the drop in the temperature means we’re unlikely to get snow on Christmas Day, which I suppose is a good thing.’ Speaking my thoughts out loud, I figure nature is doing me a favour. ‘Imagine cooking for ten and it turns out no one can get here.’

  ‘Are you still stressing about the meal?’ Gray grabs hold of the empty sack I’m carrying. Lifting up my gloved hand, he presses it against his cheek. ‘We’ll soon fill these sacks and then we can get back to the preparations. I’m here to help, remember.’

  ‘I want tomorrow to be a relaxing Christmas Eve, the calm before the storm. Whatever I can do in advance of the day after will be a bonus. I know we are going to make the cottage and The Retreat look festive and inviting. It’s just that—’ My voice tails off as I cast around for the right words.

  ‘Don’t worry so much. We’ll get everything done in time, Immi, I promise. Every year won’t be like this one; it’s just been a bit disorganised because life’s been rather hectic for us both.’

  I know Gray is trying to be helpful, but that wasn’t what I meant. A little sigh escapes unheard, muffled by my scarf as he searches my eyes with his own.

  ‘Come on. At least the muddy ground has frozen over, so it’s not boggy, but take care you don’t slip on the icy bits.’

  We weave our way along the well-trodden path, which veers away from the canal side, and a few minutes later we’re facing open fields. Gray extends his arm to help me over the old wooden stile and we head in the direction of the copse.

  ‘Did you get any further with your research on the stuff that Martin gave you? I wondered if there was anything in amongst the documents that related directly to the cottage, or The Retreat. It would be nice if we could find a photo to have framed and give to Tollie as a house-warming gift once the swap is done.’

  I’m touched by Gray’s thoughtfulness.

  ‘I keep meaning to ask Valerie. I left everything with her because I knew I’d have little chance of sifting through it. She did mention that her mother was from this area. But as Valerie has been covering for me at the marina and, what with the cruises, I doubt she’s had time to do much digging, either. I’ll check with her, though, as that’s a brilliant idea. Then after Christmas I’ll have time to get back into the history project myself.’

  The path we’re treading is wide enough for us to walk side by side now, and I loosen my scarf. Despite the cold penetrating my snow boots and thick, woollen socks, my body is already glowing from the exertion.

  ‘Now that the decision has been made, I’m actually getting excited about doing up the cottage.’ Gray certainly sounds enthusiastic this morning. ‘How do you feel about opening up the old fireplace to see if we can get it working again?’

  It’s funny how a tiny thing c
an trigger an entire memory, one that I haven’t thought about for years. Grandma Nell sitting in her favourite chair next to the fire, watching Tollie as he places a tray of chestnuts on a metal grid to toast. He forgot to pierce one of them and it exploded with a bang, a while later. It was like a pistol shot. I screamed and Grandma nearly jumped out of her chair, while Tollie looked on apologetically as he scrambled to shovel up the hot pieces.

  ‘That would be amazing. Tollie had it swept before it was boarded up, because I remember the chimney sweep coming. He couldn’t be bothered lighting it after he had the central heating replaced. There was no longer a need to use it, anyway, as the new system was so efficient. But it’s not quite the same ambience on a cold winter’s night, that’s for sure. I have fond memories of sitting around the fire every time Dad and I spent Christmas here in Aysbury.’

  It’s funny that I didn’t realise how much I missed the smell of woodsmoke until Gray mentioned it. But I do. It wasn’t the same taking the note I wrote to Santa outside to burn it in a little dish. It would be wonderful to see smoke billowing out of Lock Keeper’s Cottage’s chimney this time next year.

  ‘I thought you’d approve of the idea. And I have a lot more ideas up here.’ Gray taps the side of his head with a gloved finger. ‘Now, this holly hedge looks like it could do with a bit of a trim. What do you think? Enough berries for you, boss?’

  The swathe of trees and bushes here are exposed, sitting in the middle of flat pastureland. As Gray retrieves the secateurs from his pocket, I stare in admiration at nature’s work. The glowing red berries have little feathery strands radiating off them like angels’ wings. So fine and yet detailed, as intricate as any snowflake. And the leaves look as if they have been dipped in icing sugar, which sparkles as the sun’s rays filter through the skeleton trees.

  ‘Give it an hour or two and the sun will melt all this.’ Gray is now holding out the sacks to me and I tuck one under my arm, opening the neck of the other. ‘Right. I’ll cut and you catch.’

  He begins snipping, not indiscriminately but with care, and as he works he hums softly to himself. I follow Gray further into the wooded area beyond, and we stop every few feet to gather holly, ivy and clippings from an overgrown laurel bush. It doesn’t take long to fill the first sack and Gray gathers the neck, tying it with some twine and hanging it from a branch.

  ‘We’ll leave it here and collect it on the way back.’

  ‘I’m hoping we can get some fronds from the large Douglas fir and maybe some pine cones. A few longer lengths of ivy would be great, too.’

  Gray responds by giving me a short, sharp salute. ‘Yes, m’am. This way.’

  The further in we go, the tighter packed it is and there are areas where the frost is minimal. To my delight the lower branches of the fir are easy to reach and Gray pulls one down for me, so I can gather some cones and take a few cuttings.

  After tying up the last sack he turns to face me, suddenly scooping me up into his arms as if I’m as light as a feather.

  ‘This is the start of making our own traditions for the future, Immi, isn’t it? I always want us to surround ourselves with family and friends. And to fuss over the tiny details like making the Christmas table look festive and coming here together on a day like this, grateful for what nature can offer. Decorations are fine, but this is the real thing and a reminder of how good life can be when you have the love of your life by your side.’

  Looking up into his eyes, I see a depth of happiness that seems to spill out of him. And it washes over me very gently as he draws me even closer and his lips touch mine.

  When the words come, I’m slightly breathless as I gaze back at him. ‘Finding you is the best thing that has ever happened to me, Gray. Just never leave me, as it would break my heart.’

  ‘Silly. I know a good thing when I see one. Although there is a lot hanging on your skills with that turkey. Admittedly, I might not be much help in the cooking department aside from stirring the gravy, but I’m your man when it comes to clearing up. I can make a messy kitchen sparkle in no time at all.’

  ‘Well, that’s an offer I won’t be refusing. Everyone has to earn their Christmas dinner in our house.’

  He’s chuckling as he releases me and hoists the sack over his shoulder.

  ‘I like the way you said that. Our house – it sounds good, doesn’t it? Come on, let’s pick up the rest of our bounty and head back.’

  We place the jute sacks on a sheet of polythene in the hallway as the melting frost soaks into the rough fabric.

  ‘I’ll get the kettle on. Hot chocolate?’ Gray asks and I nod.

  ‘Great. I’ll pop in and see if Tollie wants to join us. Give me five minutes.’

  Stepping back outside, there are slippery patches on some of the stepping stones as I make my way across the lawn, and the large flagstone patio leading to the back of the cottage. Even in the depth of winter there are still flower heads on the climbing roses, which ramble over the arbour set back against the old brick wall. It runs around the entire property and, in truth, the various climbers are a nightmare to trim each year, but old stock is the best and the perfumed flowers keep on coming. When the cottage was built it was rather grand for a lock keeper’s home and it’s puzzling. Whoever built this had money. How much it will cost now to extend it in line with Tollie’s vision for us and bring it bang up to date, I don’t know. But it’s going to be a lengthy project, anyway. I stop momentarily to gaze back at The Retreat, and I wish there were photos of it through the years.

  The sound of a door opening makes me turn around expectantly and Tollie pops his head out of the back door.

  ‘It’s freezing out there, Immi. I’ve just made a brew. Are you comin’ in, or simply takin’ in the view?’

  Beaming at him, I stride forward, stepping over the doorstep as he stands aside, eagerly shutting it after me.

  ‘I should have popped my coat back on.’ I stand rubbing my hands as Fisher and Bernie gaze at me. ‘Hi, guys. Sorry, Tollie – I didn’t know you had company. We’re just about to have a hot chocolate to warm up after raiding the copse ready to trim up.’

  ‘We’re reminiscing about the days when we’d all get an invite up to the big house. Usually, about a week before Christmas. These days not a lot seems to go on up there.’

  ‘These days—’ Fisher labours his words ‘—the Harrington-Smythes spend most of their time in London. That’s where everything is happening.’ We all turn to look at him questioningly.

  He shrugs his shoulders. ‘I speak to Stephen and Lucinda’s son, Anthony, from time to time. Even Anthony hasn’t been back to his childhood home for several years now, as he works mainly in Europe, but he still owns three rental boats moored at the marina. We’re about to overhaul one of them for him. He’s all right. Easy to get on with and rolling in money, of course.’

  Tollie and Bernie exchange disapproving glances.

  ‘Well, my memories of him when he was younger is that he was a bit of a party animal. We had a near-drowning here, after one of his weekend parties got out of hand. Course, his parents weren’t around at the time. Stephen wouldn’t have stood for it, but it was hushed up. Don’t think they ever knew.’ Bernie doesn’t sound at all impressed.

  Tollie shakes his head, sadly. ‘Too much freedom, and money, at too young an age. They’re down for Christmas because Abe has been up at the house helpin’ the groundsman.’

  Although a lot of the land around here is a part of the estate, the house isn’t visible from the road or the canal, as it’s surrounded by extensive woodlands.

  ‘Is it a big house?’ I ask, my curiosity piqued. I’ve seen the odd photograph, but I can’t imagine what it’s like up close.

  ‘Immense. It’s a beautiful old buildin’, as you would expect, but it must cost a fortune to run considering they hardly use it. Folk like that tend to go abroad in search of the sunshine when they want a break. Not like the generation before them. Now Stephen’s parents, Philip and Elizabeth, they
were pillars of the community back in the day. But they rarely strayed from home and they knew how to throw a party. Good old days, for sure,’ Tollie reflects nostalgically.

  The back door suddenly swings open and Gray pops his head in, surprised to see the gathering.

  ‘Morning, guys. Well, I was wondering what was keeping Immi but now I can understand why. I can’t compete against her three favourite men all under one roof.’

  He shrugs his shoulders and gives Tollie a mischievous smile.

  ‘Just talkin’ about old times. Fisher, can you sort Gray out with a drink and I’ll go and find some photos to show Immi what the manor house looked like in her party days?’

  Gray insists on helping himself, while Bernie, Fisher and I grab our mugs and take a seat around the small kitchen table.

  ‘When do we get to meet this mystery lady of yours, then, Bernie?’ Fisher enquires. Bernie immediately looks a little flustered before answering.

  ‘I’ll be fetching Yvonne over tomorrow. It’s the first time she will have stayed at my place, so I’m planning a quiet dinner together. Bit of a step forward for us and I know Claire would understand.’

  We all nod in agreement and I can see that Fisher feels embarrassed now, having raised the topic.

  ‘Sorry, Bernie, I didn’t mean... of course it’s going to be a big deal for you both. But it’s good to have you back and you know we’ll welcome her with open arms.’

  Fisher knows what it’s like to live in the community as one of a couple and then to suddenly find yourself changing status. Divorce isn’t quite the same as the death of a loved one, but it’s still a long process of coping with change. He leans across to pat Bernie firmly on the back and the look of empathy the two men exchange is touching.

  ‘Life goes on, but it’s taken me a long time to find a reason to come back home and think about staying. The truth is, I’m not good on my own. I lack direction and that’s what Claire always gave me. But I’ve enjoyed living on The Great Escape and it’s been an adventure. Turnpike Cottage is looking tired and neglected, but I’ve told Yvonne it won’t take long to get it fixed up. She likes a challenge, does that lady.’