by Kate Field
‘What do you think of the shop now?’ Joel came up behind her, making her jump. He laughed, and touched her arm to steady her. That almost made her jump again.
‘I love it. The sign looks fantastic, doesn’t it?’ He nodded. ‘I can’t wait to move in. My first class is already full, thanks to the Christmas market.’
‘The tables and chairs for the empty space should be arriving tomorrow. Will you be here? You can tell me how you want them arranged. One large table or smaller groups?’
‘One large one, I think. But I won’t be here. When we’ve finished unloading the boxes, Adam’s driving us down to my parents’ for Christmas.’
‘So you’re away over Christmas?’ Joel’s disappointment was evident. ‘Until when?’
‘Boxing Day.’ It was long enough. Church Farm had proved a perfect excuse for her to come home as soon as possible. Daniel was driving them back, as Helen wouldn’t have her car. With an effort, she dragged her mind away from Daniel. She wasn’t ready to think about him yet, or process what Adam’s revelations might mean.
‘I suppose you can’t stay away long. Daniel will want to see Megan, won’t he?’
‘Yes. Actually,’ Helen continued, conscious of Adam lurking in the background, ‘he wanted to see her on Christmas Day, so he’s going to my parents’ as well.’
‘With his girlfriend?’
‘No. She’s in Australia.’ Helen watched as Joel digested this, and the smile vanished as he reached the obvious conclusion. Something forced her to carry on, to chase away the cloud and restore the smile. ‘She’s coming back in the New Year. We’re not together.’ She settled on the truth, or half of it. ‘It’s the first Christmas he’s been around. I didn’t feel I could say no.’
‘I suppose not.’ The smile did flicker back, but not as brightly as Helen had hoped. She wondered if he was remembering that she had proved herself more than capable of saying no to him, as recently as last night. Perhaps he had realised that she wasn’t so amazing after all. She’d never deserved the description, but now, as she saw a hint of doubt shadowing his eyes for the first time, she missed it.
‘It’s for Megan,’ she said, hardly understanding why it was so essential that she reassure him, but knowing that she had to try. ‘It will make her happy. That’s all that matters.’
Joel looked across at her silently, and at last his smile revived.
‘Wait there a minute,’ he said. ‘I have something for Megan.’ Smiling, he jogged out of the Hay Barn and returned a couple of minutes later carrying two paper carrier bags with rope handles. He held one out to Helen.
‘It’s a Christmas present for Megan,’ he said, with uncharacteristic diffidence. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Of course not, that’s lovely of you.’ Helen peeped in the bag, and saw a neatly wrapped present in sparkly Christmas paper, full of cavorting fairies. ‘Thanks, Joel.’ She hesitated, wondering whether to add a thank-you kiss, or whether that was a bad idea after last night.
‘And this one’s for you,’ Joel continued, holding out the other bag. Helen took it, their fingers brushing. She looked inside, and saw another immaculately wrapped present, in glossy red paper. There was no hesitation this time. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. His woody scent curled round her senses, like the ribbon circling the gift, and for a second, as her eyes caught his, the feeling she’d had last night roared inside her again and she wanted to shift her head a fraction until her lips met his. It was the effect of the Christmas present, she told herself, stepping back. She wasn’t used to such kindnesses, or such interest from handsome men. The attention was as intoxicating as the first drink after years of abstinence.
Pulling open one of the boxes she had placed on the shop counter, Helen lifted out a present.
‘I’ve brought one for you,’ she said, offering it to Joel, awash with sudden nerves. ‘It isn’t much…’ It really wasn’t much: a crazy patchwork cushion to go on his office chair, that she’d made for him in similar fabrics and colours as his scarf. The look he gave her, the undoubted surprise and pleasure that flooded his face, was more than the gift deserved.
Joel kissed her cheek, his hand lingering on her arm, wished them both a Merry Christmas, and went back to work. Helen watched him go, until she heard Adam laugh.
‘Now I know I’ve regressed fifteen years,’ he said. ‘The two of you are acting like a pair of teenagers. Although more innocent teenagers than you were the first time around. How long has this been going on?’
‘Nothing is going on.’
‘If I had a pound for every time I’d heard you say that…’
‘You’d be a millionaire?’ Helen finished for him, laughing. ‘You mean you’re not already?’
‘Not quite there yet.’
‘Well, let’s hope I can make a success of being here, repay your loan and tip you over that edge.’
Helen picked up the two gift bags from Joel. ‘Shall we go? Megan’s Christmas party should be over by now.’
Adam nodded.
‘I like him, if you’re interested,’ he said, as they left Crazy Little Things, and Helen locked the door. ‘He seems a good sort. Reliable.’
‘Is that meant to be a recommendation? You don’t make him sound very sexy,’ Helen said.
‘Only you can judge that.’ Adam looked at her. ‘Was Joel at dinner last night by any chance?’ Helen nodded. ‘I see.’ Adam smiled, the infuriating big-brother smile. ‘That explains everything. I knew I wasn’t mistaken about that look…’
CHAPTER 25
Christmas turned out to be full of surprises. The first was that Daniel arrived on Christmas Eve bearing not only gifts, but his mother. Valerie had been due to have Christmas lunch with a friend, but the friend had been hospitalised with a broken hip, leaving Valerie on her own. Daniel had contacted Helen’s mother before he set off, to ask if she could accommodate one extra. No one had thought to tell Helen.
She could hardly blame others, of course, for keeping secrets, when she had held on to such an enormous one herself. No one dared mention it, but the oxygen around the house seemed laced with disapproval and disappointment; thicker disapproval than in previous years, which Helen had scarcely thought possible.
Helen only endured Christmas with her parents for Megan’s sake, and chiefly so that Megan could spend time with her cousins and enjoy the illusion of a family Christmas. She had been worried this year that Megan might start to notice that Adam’s boys, with their married parents and baptism certificates, received a great deal more time and attention from their grandparents than she did. Valerie was a revelation and swept away any such anxiety. She doted on Megan and, amazingly, given Helen’s historic view of Valerie, the feeling appeared mutual. Megan adored having a grandmother who wanted to spend time with her, and Helen could imagine what Daniel was thinking every time he looked from his mother and daughter to Helen. It was another offence to add to Helen’s charge sheet. She had deprived Megan of a grandmother as well as a father.
Or had she? Helen couldn’t push Adam’s words out of her head, especially now Daniel was here in front of her. He was acting as if nothing had happened – and of course, in his world, nothing had. He was blatantly thrilled to be here with Megan, and apparently enthusiastic about meeting Helen’s parents again, which was exactly how she would have expected him to behave. Helen watched carefully when he greeted Adam, and there was no hint of consciousness, or of memory that the conversation Adam had reported had ever taken place. Helen looked out for any sign that he was judging her, and finding her a disastrous mother, but there was none. So was he an amazing actor, or had Adam got it wrong? She didn’t know what to believe.
Valerie had brought a gingerbread-making kit with her, and spent Christmas Eve afternoon showing Megan how to make edible Christmas decorations. At first Helen hovered, unused to having anyone else take responsibility for Megan, especially in this house, but Valerie sent her away.
‘Have a rest for a couple
of hours, Helen,’ she said, helping Megan sieve the flour, and seeming unconcerned that most of it was going over the arm of her twinset. ‘Daniel told me how hard you’ve had to work in the run up to Christmas. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Take a break and let me look after Megan.’
Helen wandered into the drawing room. Adam had taken the boys outside to play football. Daniel was marooned amongst the chintz with Helen’s mother Christine, and Jane. When Helen came in he looked like a prisoner who had seen the key brought in on a tray. He stood up.
‘Fancy a walk?’ he asked, turning desperate eyes on Helen. ‘I could do with stretching my legs after the drive.’
‘What a splendid idea!’ Christine said, loudly enough to drown out the beginning of Helen’s refusal. ‘Do take Daniel out, Helen. You look like some exercise would do you good. Daniel may not remember the way, it’s been such a long time since he was here.’
Only the prospect of Christine’s blatant matchmaking if they stayed in the house could have persuaded Helen to agree. She fetched her coat.
‘Pub?’ Daniel asked, as they crunched their way down the gravel drive. She nodded, and he led the way to the village pub, a quarter of a mile down the road, their habitual bolt-hole from Helen’s parents. Helen found a booth near the log burner while Daniel went to the bar for drinks. She sat back, and let the memories wash over her. It was impossible to hold them back. They had been here so often before, that nothing needed to be said. He knew which drinks to buy; she knew where he preferred to sit. It was easy, familiar. These memories were real, she would have sworn to it. How could Adam be right in suggesting the past had been a sham? They had sat at this table and discussed Megan and Archie. Wouldn’t she have known if it had been a joke?
Daniel sat down, and slid Helen’s vodka and tonic across the table.
‘This place hasn’t changed at all,’ he said, looking round.
‘Neither have my parents,’ Helen responded. ‘I’m sorry for anything they say over the next few days, or anything that’s been said already. I wish they still believed you abandoned me. It would have been marginally less awkward.’
‘Not for me. Why hasn’t Megan been baptised?’
Helen looked at her watch.
‘You’ve been here three hours and they’ve brainwashed you already.’ She picked up her glass and took a long sip, savouring the indulgence of vodka in the afternoon. ‘Why do you care? You’re not a Catholic.’
‘Surely she should have been baptised, or christened, whatever you want to call it, by now? It should have happened when she was a baby.’
It hadn’t happened because he wasn’t there. She’d thought it a good reason. Did he see it as evidence that she was a terrible mother?
‘Do you think, to celebrate the season of peace and goodwill, we could manage one drink without a row?’
Daniel stared at her. ‘Is that what you think? That we always argue?’
‘We do. Now we’re even arguing about whether we argue.’
He smiled at her then, and the years rolled away, and she had to grip her glass tightly to prevent herself reaching out to touch him, to convince herself that it really was her Daniel here, drinking with her as they had done so often before it all went wrong. Adam had misunderstood. She was sure of it.
‘I don’t want to argue with you, Nell,’ he said, picking up his wine. ‘Perhaps at first. It was a shock, I admit, and the last thing I would ever have expected. I didn’t handle it well. But all that matters is Megan. We have to do what’s best for her, don’t you agree?’
‘Of course.’ Helen ignored the prickle of irritation that he should even feel the need to ask. What did he think she’d been doing for the last four years, but what was best for Megan? Daniel studied her and nodded, as if they had reached an understanding.
‘So what’s the plan for tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘How do we do the presents? I want to be there when she opens them.’
‘The presents go under the tree tonight, when she’s in bed. Everyone comes down in the morning and opens them together before breakfast. It will be early. She’s very excited, and there’s no way she’ll stay in bed with presents in the house.’
Daniel smiled.
‘I didn’t expect anything else. She might look like me, but her character is entirely you.’
Was it? Perhaps she was too close to see it herself; or perhaps she had never wanted to see beyond the resemblance to Daniel.
‘Is that a bad thing?’ she asked, bracing herself for the answer with a long swallow of vodka.
‘No.’ He smiled. Helen thought he had smiled at her more often during the course of this drink than in all the weeks since they had met up again. ‘Not at all.’ And then came the killer line, which brushed all her doubts aside, and would go on to haunt her Christmas. ‘I always imagined our Megan would be a miniature version of you. She’s all I could have wished for.’
Helen had given Megan a bath, tucked her into bed, read The Christmas Bear three times, and was about to enter the drawing room to find Daniel and send him upstairs to say goodnight, when she heard his voice coming from the snug on the other side of the hall. She headed that way but stopped outside the door when she heard Adam say her name.
‘I felt I had to apologise,’ Adam was saying. ‘When you telephoned, trying to find her… I shouldn’t have said what I did. Called you what I did,’ he corrected himself. ‘I had no idea you didn’t know.’
‘How could you believe I’d abandon her? How could you think I was the sort of man who would do that?’
It was impossible to know who he meant, her or Megan. Emotions pounding in her head, Helen missed the next couple of exchanges.
‘I don’t deny I wanted to go to Hong Kong,’ she heard Daniel say now, a familiar note of irritation in his voice. ‘I don’t see how you can be so sure I’d have put that first. We’ll never know. I wasn’t given the choice.’
‘I don’t agree with what she did, but I can’t regret the outcome.’ Adam’s voice was suddenly close to the door. Helen stepped back, but he didn’t come out. ‘She’s not the same Helen you left. The last few years have been the making of her. She was always too dependent on you. She’s found herself now, learnt to make her own way, and she’s much stronger. I’m so proud of her. You’d better not pull her back down again.’
‘She can hardly be much further down.’ Helen could imagine how furiously Daniel’s fingers must be tapping. ‘She sews through the night, looks exhausted from lack of sleep, and has to make her own clothes. Megan spends more time at nursery than with her mother. What have you all been doing to let her get in this state?’
And there was the eavesdropper’s reward. Helen crept away, knowing that the scar from this wound was never going to fade. Never mind her brother’s pride in her; never mind that Daniel had enough feeling left to be concerned about her. She had tried so hard to change when he had gone, to grow up and be a success; but it hadn’t been enough. He looked at her life, what she thought she had achieved, and he didn’t see anything amazing or incredible. All he saw was a complete and utter mess.
***
If Helen could freeze one moment in time and never let it go, it would have been the moment she opened the drawing-room door on Christmas morning, and saw Megan’s face explode in a riot of disbelief, excitement and delight as her eyes fell on the pile of presents under the Christmas tree.
‘He’s been!’ she squealed, and raced across the room, closely followed by her older cousins, who were pretending they were only excited to indulge Megan, and fooling no one. Helen glanced at Daniel, saw that he was smiling with the same enchanted expression she was sure was on her own face, and their eyes met. His appeared suspiciously moist. She knew, though family were surrounding them, that this wasn’t a moment she could ever have shared with anyone else. No one but Daniel could understand exactly how her heart was lifting right now, because his was beating in perfect time with hers. For that fleeting moment, they were a proper family, relishing Christmas, and t
he last five years were forgotten.
Megan loved her presents, especially the bicycle, and appeared not to notice that presents this year were from Mummy and Daddy jointly. She was probably dazzled by the sheer volume of parcels addressed to her, as the contributions from the Blake family and friends had doubled the usual pile. Megan wasn’t the only beneficiary. Adam, who always took on the role of chief distribution officer to ensure gifts were fairly passed round between the children, handed a parcel over to Helen.
‘To Mummy with love from Megan,’ he read out. ‘Well done, Megan. Excellent writing.’
‘I didn’t write it,’ Megan said, with all the weight of a four-year-old’s scorn. She climbed onto Helen’s knee and pointed at a messy row of Xs across the bottom of the gift tag. ‘I did the kisses, Mummy.’
‘And they are very lovely kisses,’ Helen said, giving Megan one back, to hide her flustered feelings. She knew exactly who had written the card, and he was watching her now, expectantly. Though there was a present under the tree for Daniel, from her and Megan, somehow she hadn’t expected this. She had never received a present from Megan before, not for Christmas, birthday or Mothers’ Day. There had never been anyone to arrange it, and she hadn’t honestly thought there was now. ‘Do you want to help open it?’
Megan tore the wrapping off in seconds, revealing a small cardboard box.
‘It’s a key ring,’ she blurted out, before Helen could open it, and everyone laughed.
‘Bang goes the surprise,’ Daniel said. But it was still a surprise, when the key ring was revealed. It was a thick silver fob, with a tiny thumb print in the centre, and Megan’s name etched round it.
‘That’s my thumb,’ Megan announced helpfully.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Helen replied, giving her another kiss, not daring to do the same to the real donor of the gift. ‘Thanks Dan. I love it.’
‘There’s something else,’ he said, reaching under the tree, and ignoring Adam’s disapproving face he picked up an envelope and passed it to Helen. ‘From me.’