by Kiki Archer
Chapter Sixteen
“Hey! Is my company that bad?!” Lucy elbowed Ben’s ribs, hoping for a smile.
Ben didn’t flinch. He simply returned his broken poppadom to the plate that was splattered with mango chutney. Both had agreed that a return to the local Indian for Christmas lunch was a definite must. Last year’s celebration had been amazing, crammed side by side with strangers who quickly became lifelong friends until the effects of the local Indian beer wore off the following morning. This year it felt different. The music was still rousing and the atmosphere was still lively, but Ben could not seem to get into the swing of it. He looked around at the bright orange walls and complimenting red curtain drapes, noticing yet another small statue of a bejewelled elephant sitting lazily on the window ledge. All of the pictures hanging from the walls were bright and bold and mostly of elephants or obscure female faces encrusted with more jewels. He turned to Lucy and stared into her eager brown eyes. “No, your company is not bad. It’s not you ... it’s me. I just-”
Lucy choked back some of the fizzy beer and laughed. “Did you really just say that?!”
The fact she was already slightly tipsy annoyed him but he was unsure why. “Yes, I did and if you let me finish-”
“Look at you with your knickers in a twist! What’s up? This time last year we had already done that yard of ale,” she pointed to the yard long glass that was shaped like a huge test tube, hanging above the bar, she checked her watch, “and we had sneaked off to the loo’s ... twice! Remember?” She was expecting a naughty smile to wash across his face, but it didn’t. Last year they had made it their mission to have a shag on the hour, every hour, no matter their surroundings. This year there had been no such action, and their one early morning kiss had been cut short by Ben and his desire to immediately phone Lisa and Benny.
He paused. “It just feels wrong that I’m here.”
“Cheers, thanks for that!” huffed Lucy, grabbing her tall glass and taking a hearty swig of beer.
“Oh, you know what I mean Luce.”
Lucy placed the glass back down and turned her body to face him. No one else was paying any real attention to their domestic, but she did not want to make a scene all the same. “No, actually, I don’t!”
He turned to her and hushed his voice. “It’s Christmas Day. I should be with my son.”
Lucy was starting to get fed up. The game of smash the poppadom that had just started on the opposite table looked like much more fun than this. “But he already has a family and they will be having a wonderful day and spoiling him rotten. We have him for the whole day on Thursday!”
“Yeah, and what’s Thursday?”
Lucy buzzed her head with her index finger. “Durr, it’s the day after boxing day.”
“Exactly, it’s just a normal day!”
“Oh Ben, grow up, would you!” Lucy spun back around and reached once again for her glass.
Ben raised his voice, “Sorry, did you just tell me to grow up?!”
She turned her body to the left and chinked glasses with Mr and Mrs Walker, quickly involving herself in their animated conversation about the spicy, yet succulent starters, and joining their marvel at how much fun an alternative Christmas dinner could be. When she turned back around, she realised that Ben had gone.
****
Kat and Freya had nipped upstairs and watched the Elton’s arrival and subsequent awkward greeting from the huge sash window in Kat’s bedroom. Freya instantly wondered how on earth they would make it through the day. Her mum and dad only mixed with people in their comfort zone and this consisted of individuals of a similar perceived social standing and a home within a five mile radius of their own. She knew her mother had only dreamt of hobnobbing with people like the Spicers in a country pile in the Cotswolds. Now she was here, Freya had no idea what to expect. With a burst of adrenaline she gave Kat an apologetic kiss of good luck, threw on her Christmas outfit, swept the blusher brush across her cheeks and flicked her eyelashes with mascara. There would be chance to touch up her hair and make-up later, but no chance to rectify her parent’s inevitable entrance faux pas. She dashed back down the stairs into the lounge in time to see her mother handing over a bottle of cooking sherry. Freya had explained to her mother all about the Christmas traditions in the Spicer household, which included the sampling of the latest sweet and dry sherries and the tasting of Uncle Bart’s revolutionary hors d’oeuvres.
Sue looked across at the antique silver wall mirror and saw Freya bounding down the mahogany staircase. She stopped fawning over Gloria’s matching pearl beads, unaware that her own beads were clearly cheap imitations when viewed in such close proximity to the Real McCoy, and turned around to Freya. “Happy Christmas my darling!”
Freya had absolutely no idea where the new accent had come from. She raced to her father and gave him a huge hug. “Happy Christmas Dad .... Mum.” She lightly hugged her mother and nodded at the baby grandfather clock nestled in the corner of the room between the two large Christmas wreaths. “You’re a bit early.”
Sue nodded approvingly. “I was just saying to Gloria, how your father and I like to follow good social etiquette and arrive on time for events.”
Gloria smiled kindly. “Well it’s lovely to finally meet you and so wonderful that you could come.” She placed her arm around Freya’s shoulder. “Your daughter has been a delight.”
Sue coughed lightly and raised her eyebrows. “I hope she has been brushing her hair. Really Freya, it does look a mess!”
Jeremy caught the comment as he bounded back into the room, armed with a fresh bottle of bubbly. “She looks great! The girls have been lounging around all morning and so they should! Well cheers everyone. Happy Christmas! Who would like a drink?” He aimed the cork at the crackling fireplace and started his countdown. “Three, two, one!” The swollen cork blasted across the room and hit the brick chimney breast. “There she blows!” He caught the bubbling liquid in a tall champagne glass and proceeded to pour the drinks. “Sue,” he passed her the first glass, “you don’t mind if I call you Sue?”
Sue lowered her chin and pretended to blush. “You can call me anything you want to Doctor.”
“Mum!” scowled Freya, flicking her mother’s arm.
“I can tell that your mum is going to be great fun!” grinned Jeremy, raising his glass. “Cheers everyone, Happy Christmas! Good health and good happiness! Gloria, turn the Christmas music on would you please?”
Bing Crosby joyously filled the room.
Freya lifted her glass half heartedly. No one had ever described her mother as great fun. “Cheers” she said, aware that everyone else had turned towards the corner of the room. The traditional mahogany staircase was in itself a real eye catcher, but as Freya turned she realised it was not the bespoke wooden spindles that everyone was admiring, or the fresh holly and ivy that had been lovingly hung by Gloria from the banister. Instead, all eyes were on Kat. She was elegantly descending into the warm room with real grace and beauty. Freya even thought she heard her mother gasp.
Sue gasped again in case people had not heard and walked over to the bottom step. She wrapped her arms around Kat and flattered, “Oh Katherine, you look wonderful.” She gave her an over the top double kiss. “Happy Christmas!”
Freya was embarrassed by her mother’s display of over familiarity, but had to admit that Kat’s choice of Christmas outfit was indeed sensational. She was wearing a deep red crepe dress with a plunging v neck, pleated wrap front and diamante brooch, and her blonde hair was impeccable.
Kat managed to edge away from Sue and greeted Patrick with a sincere warmth. “Happy Christmas. Thank you for coming.” She looked towards Freya. “Doesn’t your daughter look beautiful?”
Sue glanced across to Freya before returning her eyes back to Kat. “Not as beautiful as you Katherine.”
Freya had to laugh. “Thanks Mum!”
Sue spoke with a forced smile, “Well you could have brushed your hair. Really, what will the Sp
icers think of us?”
Jeremy raised his glass once again, keen to keep this Christmas on track. “Happy Christmas, one and all! Please, you four relax in here and I hope you don’t mind, but Gloria and I have a few jobs to finish in the kitchen.”
Gloria tapped the second unopened bottle of bubbly that was sitting on Jeremy’s antique mahogany desk. “Please help yourselves when your glasses are empty.”
Freya watched as both Gloria and Jeremy made their apologies and rushed back into the steaming kitchen. Her parents’ early arrival must have put them behind schedule. She waited for the latch to click closed on the door, then spun back around to her mother. “What are you doing?”
Sue leisurely waltzed around the room, examining the set of large pewter plates hanging from the wall and nodding in approval like she knew what they were. “What do you mean?” she said with nonchalance.
“The voice?! What’s with your voice?”
Sue came to a rest at the beautiful Georgian sofa which had been upholstered in a gold leaf fabric. She looked at the thin tapered mahogany legs, patted the seat and nodded in approval.
“Mum?! What are you doing?”
Sue sat down. “Making myself comfortable like the good doctor said.”
“Dad! What is she doing?”
Patrick took a seat on the mustard coloured high back wing chair and tried to relax. “Your mother is just pleased to be here.”
Freya turned to her ally. “Kat! Mum does not usually talk like this does she?!”
Kat took a seat next to Sue and smiled warmly. “Did it take you long to get here?”
Sue sipped some of the champagne, eager to show off her correct glass holding position. She had done an intensive search on the internet about the protocol when it came to eating and drinking in a posh establishment and the results made it clear - you should hold the glass around the stem. “Just over an hour.” She tapped Kat’s knee. “I did not realise we were so close.”
“Well don’t think you will be popping in whenever you feel like it!” Freya plonked herself down in front of the fire and took a swig of champagne.
Sue tutted. “Don’t hold the bowl of the glass Freya! You will heat up the champagne and change its flavour.”
Freya encased the glass in both hands and downed the remaining mouthful. “Cheers!”
Sue turned to Kat for confirmation. “I’m right aren’t I? You should hold the stem of the champagne glass.”
Kat sipped her fizzing drink. “To be honest, I don’t really know.” She looked at Freya whose cheeks were staring to burn and was unsure if this was from the heat of the fire or an effect of her mother’s presence. She slid off the seat and took a place next to her in front of the hearth. “Shall we remind your mum and dad who’s coming?”
Freya shrugged her shoulders. Kat had to be on her side if she was to make it through the day.
Kat decided to ignore the obvious tension and began her spiel. “Okay, so we have us four. My parents. My sister Kelly, her husband, Richard, and their two children, Ava and Bobby.” She smiled trying to lighten the mood. “You will know when they arrive because the noise will quadruple instantly.”
Patrick adjusted himself on the buttoned high back chair. “Are they young children?”
“Three and four, but the noise will be from my sister! Poor Richard does not seem to get a word in.”
Patrick made a mental note to seek solace in Richard’s company.
“Then there is Auntie June and Uncle Steven, her three children, James, Jilly and Greg.” She signalled to Freya, “They’re all about our age.”
Freya watched as her mother reached into her handbag and started to make notes on a piece of paper.
“Then there will be Grandpa Ed, his new girlfriend Audrey - they met at the whist drive about six months ago. Uncle Bart is coming-”
Sue lifted her head and jumped in, “Yes, he is the one making the whores curves.”
Freya shook her head. “For goodness sake Mother! It’s hors d’oeuvres!” She could not help herself, “...and I don’t know why you brought cooking sherry!”
“That’s what I said.” Sue rolled her eyes, embarrassed by the correction. “We brought the Tesco finest sherry to drink with the whore durves.”
“Tesco finest cooking sherry!”
Kat gently squeezed Freya’s thigh. “It will be wonderful.” She smiled. “So yes ... we also have Uncle Bart and Aunty Jean. The neighbours, Bill and Janet, are coming this year and so is Pam.”
Sue paused her pen on the piece of paper. “Who is Pam?”
Kat laughed and stood up, making her way to the desk and unopened bottle of fizz. “To be honest, I am not quite sure! She has been coming here for Christmas since I can remember and she is a distant cousin twice removed of dad’s ... no mum’s ... no, I don’t really know, but she is great and she is the queen of the Christmas party games.”
Sue straightened in her seat. “You play games?”
Kat opened the bottle, keeping hold of the lid and expertly stopping any precious spillage. “Yes, we always play after dinner games.”
Sue turned to Freya, “You didn’t say they played games.”
“Yes I did, Mum. They always play after dinner games and from what Kat tells me the Spicer Christmas games are infamous!”
Sue pictured Gloria in her elegant black jacket, high heels and pearls. “I will sit and watch with Gloria.”
“Mum is the first one involved,” smiled Kat, carefully refilling Patrick’s empty glass.
Sue stiffened in her seat and took another sip of champagne trying to recall an episode of Downton Abbey where the toffs played any sort of parlour games. She suddenly felt unprepared.
Kat continued to do the rounds, topping up the glasses as she did a mental count. “So that is ... mmm ... twenty. We also have Katie and Bob, who are our relatives from America,” she smiled, “again don’t ask me how they are related, I just know they are relations from America who always come over for Christmas! Mum will be able to talk you through the family tree.”
Sue nodded, she actually had a copy of the Spicer family tree in her handbag but did not want to appear too eager. She lifted her glass and let Kat fill it back up to the brim.
Kat returned the empty bottle to the desk and lifted her own fizzing glass.
Freya cut in, “Right, before we do any more cheers, can we just sort one thing out?” She turned to her mum. “Mother, can you please lose the ridiculous voice?!”
Sue lifted her hand, “Ood yaouw rather I terked loike yaw fairther an' 'ad them all loff at us.”
Freya and Patrick chastised in unison. “Mum!” “Sue!”
Kat frowned. “What did she say?”
Freya shook her head. “She said would you rather I talked like your father and had them all laugh at us.”
“Nobody will be laughing at you.” Kat placed her hand on Sue’s knee. “And anyway your accent is hardly noticeable,” she lied.
“It’s not now she’s talking like the queen mother!” Freya gulped another mouthful of champagne, but had to smile. “But if I had a choice then I would rather you avoided sounding like the broadest Brummie in the world please.”
Sue nodded. “Thank you. Now kindly paaarse me my glaaarse and I will have my laaarst sip of champagne.”
Freya, Patrick and Kat couldn’t help but laugh, and lifted their glasses in what was to be one of many Christmas toasts throughout the day.
****
Lucy checked the restaurant clock once again. Ben had been gone for over half an hour. Mr and Mrs Walker were busy tucking into the Indian equivalent of vol-au-vents and she had completed the small ball maze from her cracker three times already. She reached into her bag for her phone. No messages. Sat in a restaurant bustling with people, most of whom were merry before midday, she had never felt so alone. She dialled Kat’s number. It went straight to answer phone, and she suddenly remembered how no one could ever get a signal at the Spicer mansion. She rang the home number pict
uring the Spicer clan mid way through present opening, or cheering as another bottle of bubbly got popped open. She had joined Kat down there for a couple of previous Christmases and they were some of her fondest memories.
After several long rings, Jeremy answered in his usual jovial fashion, wishing her the very merriest of Christmases and a Happy New Year. She could hear the sound of laughter and a shout of “We’re here!” from what must have been Kelly and the kids. She almost burst into tears as Kat eventually came on the line. She tried to pull herself together. “Happy Christmas Kat.”
“Oh Happy Christmas Lucy! Thanks for ringing!” She could hear the Indian music and loud noise reminiscent of a pub atmosphere. “How’s the Indian? Have you had your starters yet?” Kat found herself shouting over the clamour at both ends.
A lump caught in Lucy’s throat and she nodded, unable to speak.
“I can’t hear you. Hang on.” Kat shut the heavy wooden door and silenced the noise of her sister taking control of events in the front lounge. “That’s better. How was your morning?”
“Okay,” she managed, “...and you?”
Jeremy opened the door. “Kelly is ready to do the presents.”
Kat nodded at him, she knew if Kelly had said it was present time then present time was about to start. “Sorry Lucy, I’ve got to go. I’ll give you a call after lunch.”
“Yep ... okay,” she was close to tears.
“Happy Christmas, I’ll ring you later.” She was not sure if Lucy heard, but the picture she had painted of last year’s Indian, complete with hourly hook ups, left her in no doubt that her very best friend would once again be having the time of her life.
****
Kat returned the old fashioned black circular dial phone back onto the receiver and re-opened the door to the front lounge. Kelly was sat at the head of the circle she had requested everyone formed, explaining how the present giving would work. Great Grandpa Ed and Audrey had arrived exactly on schedule weighed down with bags of presents for the children. Everyone knew that Ava and Bobby were the most important part of the day and everything would now be centred on them and their mother. Kat smiled to herself, she didn’t really mind and she knew it would be her one day surrounded by little ones. She suddenly wondered how Kelly would feel about it. Smiling she crept up behind her niece and nephew. “Boo! Happy Christmas you terrors!”