by Tracy Bloom
If he wasn’t mistaken she suppressed a laugh when he pulled the pointy hat on to his head.
‘Now you look the part,’ she said. ‘Shall we just call you Master Elf?’ She patted his arm and smiled, clearly pleased with herself. She heaved herself up from the one-foot high chair and walked off towards the door that led to the outdoor play area. Conversation over. The Nativity was Ben’s. He had twenty-five three-year-olds to shepherd through the birth of Christ and then perform in front of eager parents.
An unexpected gift at this time of year.
Chapter Seven
Carlos can’t get the Skype to work. Can you get Ben to call us? Mum x
‘What time is it now?’ Ben asked Katy.
‘Five minutes after you last asked,’ she replied. They were sitting next to each other on two kitchen chairs staring into the depths of Katy’s laptop, waiting with bated breath for Rita and Carlos to Skype them from Spain. Ben had been on the phone for twenty minutes trying to explain how to turn the camera on, during which time Katy had felt the need to get changed and put on a smart top. The reason why was a mystery to her. Dressing up to meet her mother’s new boyfriend via the internet felt all wrong, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt the need to put her best foot forward, to impress, perhaps in the hope that it would signal that he needed to impress her too. That this wasn’t a family with low standards and if he wanted to be a part of it, he’d better measure up.
‘Oh, Millie, come back here,’ said Katy as her daughter slipped off her knee for the fifth time. She had a vision that when the call arrived, the screen would flick on and there they would be: Katy, Ben and Millie, an image of the perfect family. Then maybe Carlos would realise what he was dealing with.
Ben sighed, slipping off his chair too. ‘I’m getting myself a beer. You want a glass of wine?’ he asked her.
‘No!’ She didn’t want Carlos to think they were alcoholics. She didn’t want him thinking he could come to their home and sit drinking all day. She wanted to tell Ben to wait until after the Skype to have a drink, but she didn’t know how to ask him without sounding like a boring old woman.
She was just chasing Millie around the lounge when she heard the ringing coming from her laptop. ‘Please, Millie, just come here a minute, will you?’ she gasped, trying to get hold of Millie while she giggled uncontrollably. And so it was Ben who got to see the measure of Carlos first as he slung himself down in front of the screen and took a swig out of a bottle of Becks.
Katy walked back into the kitchen clutching Millie in her arms and could see Ben’s face popping up from behind the screen. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. He glanced up at Katy with a look of astonishment on his face. She felt a hand grasp her heart. What had Ben seen? Why the look of shock? She started to panic and let Millie wriggle free again.
‘Oh, here’s Katy,’ said Ben at the screen, waving at her wildly to come and take a look while leaving his chair to continue the chase after Millie. Katy couldn’t take her eyes off him as she edged round the table. She creased her forehead, willing him to give her some indication, some preparation for what she was about to encounter, but he gave her nothing more than a small smile and a slight shake of his head. Contradictory and uninformative signals. She would have to go in blind.
She took a deep breath and sat down in front of the screen, automatically raising her hand in greeting.
‘Hi,’ she managed to splutter out as she tried to process the scene beaming live into their kitchen from the Costa del Sol.
‘Oh there you are, Katy,’ her mother cried in juddering Skype fashion. ‘Here’s Katy – look, Carlos. Say hello to Carlos, Katy.’
‘Hello, Carlos,’ Katy replied. Her hand was still in mid-air. She closed her mouth so it wasn’t hanging open. She looked up at Ben as he walked back in the room – clearly he’d given up on pinning down Millie for her inaugural meeting with Carlos. Ben shook his head when he saw the look on Katy’s face and then started to laugh. He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, holding it up to silently ask if she would like a glass. She nodded vigorously.
‘I have heard all about you from your mother,’ Carlos was saying. ‘And I am so happy to be meeting you at Christmas and share this very special time with you and your family.’
Katy still couldn’t speak. Ben handed her the glass of wine and she took a very long gulp. He stood behind the computer screen out of sight of Carlos and Rita and scrabbled in a drawer until he found a tape measure and made a big show of silently measuring the width of the door frames and then shaking his head in despair.
‘It is very kind of you to let me join you,’ continued Carlos. ‘I will of course come bearing gifts as well as some special Spanish delicacies to accompany your Christmas meal, which I understand you eat on Christmas Day in England?’
Katy managed to sputter out a very weak, ‘Yes,’ as she watched Ben walk over to the chalkboard on the kitchen wall where reminders of what food they needed were written. He picked up the chalk and wrote TURKEY x 1 then crossed the x 1 out and wrote x 3 instead.
‘Ben cooks a marvellous Christmas dinner,’ she could hear her mother say. ‘You’ll like Ben. He’s a wonderful son-in-law.’
Ben beamed and polished his fingernails. Katy was tempted to stick two fingers up at him.
‘I’m sure Ben would be happy to take you down to a proper English pub,’ Rita told Carlos. Katy grinned at Ben and urged him to come round to her side of the screen to agree to take her mother’s boyfriend down to his local.
‘Absolutely,’ Ben shouted without leaving his post. Instead he opened the oven door and stuck his head inside it. When he re-emerged he mouthed ‘too small’ to Katy.
‘Have you been to England before?’ Katy asked when the silence grew heavy. She had meant to be challenging, maybe even scathing of the position they had both put her in, but she was so awestruck that all of her searching questions had gone out of the window.
‘Oh no,’ said Carlos, shaking his head. ‘Never at all.’
‘Your English is very good,’ said Katy.
Her mother beamed. ‘Oh isn’t it just.’
‘Well, you don’t spend thirty years running a bar in the Costa del Sol without getting good at English,’ he replied. ‘My first English words were “Please may I have a shandy?” but of course no-one asks for that now. It’s more likely to be “Amigo! Bring me a bloody beer, pronto.”’ Carlos collapsed with laughter.
‘And where is my granddaughter?’ asked Rita. ‘You must see her, Carlos. She is so gorgeous.’
‘As gorgeous as you?’ asked Carlos, gazing into Rita’s eyes. Katy thought she might throw up. Ben scooped up a passing Millie and dangled her upside down in front of the screen.
‘Hi, Granny,’ screamed Millie, giggling her head off.
‘Hello, darling,’ replied Rita, waving frantically. ‘This is my new friend, Carlos.’
Ben put Millie down on the floor so she could see properly. Millie stared at the screen.
‘Hello, Millie,’ said Carlos, waving cheerily.
Millie looked at Katy and then at Ben. Katy grabbed her glass and downed her wine.
‘He’s so big,’ said Millie.
Katy wished she hadn’t downed her wine so that she could busy herself downing her wine while she tried to come up with an answer. Fortunately Ben came to the rescue.
‘Millie King, will you please stop saying that to everyone you meet,’ he said, scooping her up and pulling her out of sight of the screen. ‘It’s very rude. You really upset the postman the other day.’
‘I’ve never seen the…’ Millie started to say, but Ben clamped his hand over her mouth and carried her into the living room where all that could be heard were squeals as she tried to break free. Katy was left alone again in front of the screen, trying hard not to let her jaw drop at the sight of the gigantic frame of Carlos next to her petit giggling mother. He must be at least six and a half feet tall, she figured, with a stocky broad build,
whereas her birdlike mother barely skimmed five foot in heels. They reminded her of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito in Twins. An unlikely double act if ever you saw one – until you saw Carlos and Rita.
‘She’s at that tricky age,’ explained Katy. ‘Thinks it’s funny to call everyone… weird things,’ she trailed off, reaching for her wine glass and going to take a sip before she realised there was nothing in it.
‘Well, he is a very fine specimen of a man, don’t you think, Katy?’ said Rita as she grasped hold of Carlos’s forearm and squeezed it.
Katy couldn’t bring herself to reply.
‘I’m a very lucky girl,’ she added.
Katy winced.
‘So,’ said Rita, leaning forward as if to scrutinise her daughter, ‘clearly you have no good news for me then?’
‘What do you mean?’ She wondered if she could make a dash for the wine in the fridge and pretend they had lost reception for a moment.
‘Well, I take the fact that you’re drinking as evidence that you won’t be announcing this Christmas that I’m to become a grandmother again.’
Katy was tempted to sneak her finger forward right now and cut her mother off.
‘We’ve only just moved,’ she replied. ‘Give us a chance.’
‘Well, don’t leave it too long, that’s all I can say. You’re not getting any younger.’ Katy watched in horror as Rita turned towards Carlos and loudly whispered, ‘She’s forty.’
‘I heard that,’ said Katy.
‘Well you are, aren’t you? You’ll be past it if you aren’t careful, and you wouldn’t want Millie to be an only child.’ Rita pulled Carlos’s shoulder down so she could whisper right into his ear. ‘Katy is an only child. Having a brother or a sister would have done her the world of good.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Katy indignantly.
‘I’m just saying that being an only child isn’t the best way to grow up, you know that. She’s very focused on her career,’ Rita said to Carlos, as though that was a major flaw in her character. ‘She was lucky to find Ben.’
‘Wasn’t she just,’ said Ben, bounding back in to grab another beer from the fridge. He brought the white wine over and poured Katy another glass. She smiled at him gratefully.
‘I was just saying, Ben, that it’s about time you made me a grandmother again. Katy will soon be past it. I know you won’t, but she needs to get a move on.’
Ben glanced over at Katy and took her hand in his.
‘We’re on it, Rita, like a car bonnet. Fingers crossed it won’t be long before there’s good news.’
‘Wonderful,’ said Rita, clapping her hands. ‘It would be great to think we’ll be spending Christmas next year with the four of you.’
Katy and Ben looked at each other in horror. One Christmas was bad enough. She must remember to get her dad booked in for next Christmas. A strict rota system was clearly going to be the only way of avoiding her mother at least every other year. She and Ben simultaneously drank more alcohol.
‘When are you actually coming then?’ asked Ben, a slight strain in his voice.
‘Oh, we haven’t booked our flights yet,’ said Carlos.
Katy and Ben squeezed each other’s hands in the hope there could be a glimmer of a reprieve; that this plan was not in fact set in stone.
‘We’re going to tomorrow,’ said Rita. ‘But it will be probably be Christmas Eve. Carlos will have the bar open until then unless one of his sons can get here to open up for him.’
‘Oh, you have children?’ asked Katy.
‘Yes,’ nodded Carlos. ‘Four sons and two daughters.’
‘Wow,’ said Katy. This was news.
‘And are they all in Spain?’
‘Five are, one is actually in England. Working in London. We hope to see him while we are over.’
Katy nodded. ‘OK.’ This was hopeful. Her mother might not be staying with them for the whole duration of her trip after all.
‘I know,’ said Rita, and Katy knew exactly what was coming even before she came out with it. She grabbed Ben’s arm in panic. ‘Why don’t we invite him to yours for Christmas lunch?’
‘We don’t have the room, Mum,’ Katy blurted out. Especially if he has the same build as his father, she thought.
‘Oh, but he’s on his own. He doesn’t have family over there,’ said Rita.
Great, thought Katy. This situation was just getting worse and worse.
‘Hey, calm down, babe,’ said Carlos.
Ben slid off his chair and resumed his position behind the screen. ‘Babe?’ he silently mouthed to Katy.
‘He may have plans, and it is not fair to assume that your daughter can provide for him.’
Katy nodded. ‘Exactly.’ She was beginning to like Carlos. ‘I mean, we only have one spare room.’
‘You’ve only bought a three-bedroom house?’ said her mother with a look of horror on her face.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that’s all we could afford.’
‘Oh. Well, that is a problem then. Of course myself and Carlos will need the spare room.’
Katy looked up at Ben. He was pretend gagging at the thought of his mother-in-law and Carlos in the spare room, which wasn’t much help.
‘Well, there’s just the one single bed in there at the moment so we’ll need to borrow another…’
‘Oh no, no, no,’ interrupted her mother. ‘We will need at least a king-size bed.’
Ben stopped his pretend gagging motions and threw his hands up in the air. The room was barely big enough for two singles or a double, never mind a king-size.
‘You cannot expect this man to sleep in a single bed,’ added Rita. Katy winced. She wasn’t sure if her mother was commenting on his size or his masculinity. She didn’t want to dwell on it.
‘We can’t fit a king-size bed in that room, Mum, even if we could borrow one.’
‘What about an inflatable?’ asked Ben. ‘I might be able to get hold of one of those.’
Katy looked back at Carlos and tried not to imagine him falling on to an inflatable bed while her mum ricocheted six foot in the air as he impacted.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Katy,’ Rita said. ‘I’m seventy-three. You can’t expect me to do that.’
I wasn’t expecting you to be bringing home your enormous new boyfriend here for Christmas either, thought Katy. So please cut me some slack.
‘We’ll have to have your bed,’ announced Rita.
‘No, we cannot do that,’ said Carlos. Katy really was warming to him.
‘You won’t mind, will you, Katy? It will only be for a few days, and it will mean we can get out of your way. Have our own space and leave you to have yours.’
Ben pretended to faint to the floor. Katy didn’t know what to do. She felt trapped. It was Christmas, and it was a time of goodwill to all men, especially family – she couldn’t say no, could she? She couldn’t make her 73-year-old mother sleep on the floor at Christmas, could she? Did she have any choice other than to allow her mother to sleep in her bed with her enormous but seemingly nice new boyfriend?
‘I think you’ve frozen,’ came a voice. Katy could see her mother shaking her iPad as though it would defrost her. She remained absolutely still, hoping to convince her mother that she was actually frozen so they could put a temporary end to this torture. ‘No, no, you’re not moving,’ Rita continued. ‘We’ll cut you off and try calling you back. Bye, bye, bye then.’
The screen went blank. Ben got up from his position on the floor. He dusted himself down and pressed the button that turned off the Skype.
‘Let’s just pray to God they don’t shag in it,’ he said. ‘Or else we’ll be needing a new bed for Christmas.’
Chapter Eight
Ben closed his eyes. He knew they’d been there way too long as this was now the third time he’d heard ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’. He’d also now seen at least four separate parties of toddlers form a line
and parade around the room singing ‘Happy Birthday’ at the tops of their voices. But Millie was happy and not demanding his attention, so he’d gratefully read two Sunday papers, including the sports sections, while drinking two coffees that bore no resemblance to his usual injection of Starbucks but were a fraction of the price so he couldn’t complain. He found himself humming along to the festive tune as he stared up at the confusion of exposed utility pipes and corrugated iron in the ceiling above. He had no idea that a stroke of genius was about to hit. If he had, he no doubt would have bought pen and paper.
Ben’s eyes flew open. Reindeer Games! That was it! He looked around him as though the other parents gathered there would recognise that he had just been blasted with a lightning bolt. But they carried on chatting, eating cake and ignoring their children. He leapt up, needing to commit his plan to paper as soon as he could, and grabbed the nearest colouring-in sheet and a crayon and began to write. Suddenly being landed with the Nativity didn’t seem so bad – as long as he could do it his way. That was what Mrs Allcock had said, right? The Reindeer Games – utter genius. Manhandling three-year-olds through festive-themed games would be a piece of cake surely? His ideas were just starting to flow on to paper when his mobile lit up with a message from Braindead.
WHERE R U?
AT SOFT PLAY.
WHAT’S THAT?
A KIND OF HELL.
I NEED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SOMETHING.
WHY DON’T YOU JOIN ME? YOU WOULD LOVE IT HERE.
OK.