A Proper Family Christmas

by Jane Gordon - Cumming

  “Sure is. Made me the warped little individual I am. …Actually it probably is what made me want to be a doctor,” Daniel observed more seriously, “ - trying to cure people because I couldn’t save him, kind of thing. Not that anyone could have done much for a brain haemorrhage.”

  “And I suppose that’s why I’ve ended up as a nanny.” Frances told him about missing out on Art College, then wondered if it seemed like showing off. “…Though I probably wouldn’t have been any good.”

  “Why not? Of course you would!”

  They could see Hilary and Oliver coming out of the church now, laughing at something. It made her look younger and more carefree, and it occurred to Frances that she was really rather pretty.

  “The worst thing about Dad dying,” said Daniel, lowering his voice a little, “is the effect it had on Mum. I ranted and raged and dealt with it, but she sort of retreated into herself. …It wasn’t that she didn’t talk to anyone, or cried all the time, - in some ways that would have been better. She just - stopped enjoying things, I guess. It’s ages since I’ve seen her really laugh like that.”

  “The church was good. You should have come. …Where are we heading now?”

  “Down here, to look at this wonderful row of old houses, - 16th century, surely.” The other three grinned at each other. Oliver was nothing if not decisive.

  “All right, mate. Don’t get run over,” pleaded Daniel, but he’d already taken his photo, with a charming smile to the van driver who’d been too startled to hoot. “The man’s a liability! Why are we going round with him?”

  “I can’t think,” said Hilary happily. She’d caught the affection in Daniel’s tone.

  Enjoying Oliver’s enthusiasm, and content to follow in his wake, they wandered after him down the lane, until he suddenly stopped in front of a stone archway.

  “Oh! Do you mind if we…?”

  “No, Oliver, we can’t go in there!” Hilary had seen poor Frances flinch.

  “Shirburn Alert,” Daniel reminded him. “You are entering a potentially contaminated zone.”

  His face fell. “Oh yes, of course. They were going to the museum, weren’t they? And I suppose we’d be bound to bump into them, - even if we just popped in for a moment.”

  “It’s not really fair on Frances…” said Hilary, torn by his looking as if a toy had been snatched away.

  “That’s all right. You go in,” she responded at once.

  “Oh come on, live dangerously!” Daniel grinned at her. “We’ll hide you behind an urn or something if they are still about, but I bet old Tobias was carried out kicking and screaming ages ago.”

  Even Frances had to admit that the museum was fascinating. After a while she forgot to look for the Shirburns round every corner, and became enthralled by the various displays. Daniel found her gazing wistfully into a case holding an intricately-patterned gold pendant that would have formed part of a Saxon woman’s dowry.

  “It’s so beautiful! …I’m not sure it wouldn’t have been worth living in one of those miserable dug-out huts and having to weave all your own clothes, just to wear something like this every day.”

  Daniel insisted on having his photograph taken wearing a suit of Roman chain-mail meant for kids. Oliver found he was too big for it, and Daniel said that he ought to use his status as a top academic to complain to the Museum authorities.

  It was the mosaics that entranced Hilary. “You’d swear they were painted! How could they possibly get such detail with bits of flower-pot and pebbles?”

  “I’ll pop in here and buy a post-card, I think,” said Daniel as they passed the gift-shop on the way out. “Don’t wait.”

  “Wouldn’t mind a look at the books,” said Oliver. “They might have one on mosaics, Hilary…”

  Frances picked up some tourist leaflets from the desk and was soon engrossed in the delights of Bourton-on-the-Water and Arlington Row. …There were some brilliant places in the Cotswolds! It would be nice to come back, in the summer perhaps, and explore them with someone who had a car, and who’d enjoy going round the Wild Life Park as much as she would.

  She was only vaguely aware of people coming out of the door that led to the toilets on the other side of the foyer, - until she heard a piercing little voice.

  “I thought you said that Nanny Frances wasn’t coming to the Museum! …Yes, she is. - She’s sitting over there.”

  It was too late to hide. Lesley was looking in her direction with a mixture of surprise and disapproval. Stephen emerged at the same moment, and saw her pointing. Frances stood up to face the music, wishing they hadn’t happened to catch her on her own.

  “Oh dear, Nanny! I thought we made it clear we weren’t expecting you to join us.”

  “No, - I wasn’t,” she hastened to explain. “I didn’t realise… I thought you’d gone.”

  “You haven’t come to find us?” Stephen was puzzled. “Then what are you doing here?”

  “The Britwells brought her with their nanny, I imagine.”

  “Oh no, - I came with Daniel.”

  As soon as she’d said it, she realised her mistake.

  “Oh did you indeed?”

  “…And his mother, and Mr. Leafield.” It was too late. Lesley wasn’t listening. …Oh hell, where were the others? For a moment Frances wondered if they weren’t deliberately hiding.

  “Well since you have turned up, Nanny, you might oblige us by minding Tobias, - if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Stephen and I have a piece of rather important shopping to do.”

  “Ah! Yes, indeed.” Her husband responded to her meaning look.

  “I’m coming with you…”

  “No, this is grown up shopping. You stay with Nanny.”

  “I don’t wa-ant to!” Tobias followed them through the glass door and out into the street.

  Frances grabbed his hand. “Perhaps it’s to do with Christmas presents,” she suggested. “They always have to be kept secret, don’t they?”

  “Yes, well, - we won’t be long.” Lesley and Stephen hurried away, and disappeared into a shop at the other end of the road.

  Frances acquitted the others of hiding, as soon as she saw their expressions of horror when they came out to find Tobias sitting beside her. She couldn’t help grinning.

  “God almighty! Where did he spring from?” Daniel looked up, as if he might have dropped down from the gallery above their heads.

  “His Mummy and Daddy have gone to buy something private, - so we’re looking after Tobias for a little while. …At least, I’ve got to. You don’t have to wait.”

  “You mean they just commanded you to babysit, and buggered off? I don’t believe it!”

  “But they’d already said they didn’t need you, surely? They can’t have it both ways!” Hilary was appalled.

  “It’s all my fault,” said Oliver. “You said we shouldn’t go into the museum. …Tell you what, I’ll look after Tobias, while you three go shopping or whatever.”

  Although they laughed, Frances was very touched.

  “I’d like to go shopping,” said Tobias. He sounded a little wistful.

  “Would you, mate?” said Daniel kindly. “Not got all your presents yet then?”

  “I’m having my presents on Christmas Day,” Tobias told him. “That’s tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think he’s quite got the concept…” Frances smiled.

  “That’s a pity,” said Hilary. “Buying presents for other people is much the nicest part of Christmas.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Frances met her eye, both with the same sudden thought. “…I’ll go and see if Mummy will give you some money to spend, Tobias. Wait here.”

  She’d noticed which shop Lesley and Stephen had gone into, a stationers, and found them at the counter, paying for what they’d bought. They didn’t look very pleased to see her.

  “Tobias wants to do some Christmas shopping,” she explained. “Do you think he could have a little bit of money to buy presents with?”

 
“Er - yes, of course…” Stephen handed her some of the change he’d just been given, at the same time trying to cover their purchase guiltily with his other hand. Naturally Frances glanced to see what it was, - one of those forms for making a will, apparently. How odd!

  Lesley too looked furtive. “We’ll be out in a minute. Don’t take him far.”

  “What a brainwave!” Hilary murmured to Frances. She could see that Tobias was really enjoying choosing little presents for everyone, and it was doing him all the good in the world to be made to consider what people other than himself might want for once. She even got the chance to take him aside and encourage him to buy a little sachet of bath oil for Frances. He was so pleased! Lesley, to do her justice, stayed tactfully in the background, and expressed suitable delighted surprise when Tobias told her that he’d been doing ‘real Christmas shopping’.

  They were just debating whether it was worth taking all the parcels back to the car, when there was a loud coo-ee from across the street.

  “There’s Posy! …Posy, I’ve got you a present, - and you, Auntie Julia, - but you can’t open them now ‘cos it’s a s’prise!”

  “Darling, that is exciting. I can’t wait! …Have you been wondering what had happened to us? We stopped off at a garden centre to get a Christmas tree. It’s in the car. Poor Shelley’s covered in pine needles, aren’t you pet?”

  That explained Shelley’s grumpy expression. - But not another mystery. Margery was with them, stopping to talk to Oliver as he photographed the Corn Hall, and Tony was there, laden with bags and pretending to mop his brow…

  The same question must have been on Lesley’s mind, as Hilary watched her scan the group. “…So what have you done with William?”

  “Daddy? We thought he was with you!”

  Lesley and Stephen looked at each other, then, rather accusingly, across at Oliver. “Did he come in your car?”

  “No, of course not,” Hilary replied for him. “Oliver brought me, Daniel and Frances. Do you think we smuggled William in the boot?”

  But to her surprise, Oliver came over, looking a little self-conscious. “Um - actually, I’m afraid he must have accidentally got left behind. I saw him disappear into the pantry just as we were all about to go.”

  “Silly bugger!” said Margery. “He missed a good morning out. Not that he would have appreciated having a Christmas tree rammed up his backside in your car, Tony! Now what about lunch?”she went on. “I’m ready for a sit-down, myself. The Woolpack used to be good. They know me there.” Margery set a fast pace down the road.

  “A pub? Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Doesn’t Tobias like pubs? Posy loves them! It’s a pity she’s just had a Big Mac.”

  As Frances had feared, Shelley grabbed her arm at the first opportunity, and pulled her out of earshot of the others. “How the sod did you wangle that one, you jammy little cow? Riding in the back of Mr. Leafield’s car, all cosied up to Daniel, when I was stuck between that old crone Margery and a bloody Christmas tree! …I suppose you gave them a Cinderella story about being left behind and conned them into taking you, as soon as you saw Daniel was going, - and you knew perfectly well I fancied him! …Well it’s not over yet, I’m telling you. You wait and see!”

  The Woolpack turned out to be in a pretty, half-timbered building. Its series of small bars, with their odd-shaped corners and uneven floor levels, was packed with Christmas Eve drinkers and couldn’t have been much less suitable for a large family group of mixed ages. They didn’t know Margery there as well as she’d thought, - the place had changed hands twice in the twenty years since her last visit, - and nobody spoke very good English. Nevertheless they seemed to think they could provide a meal, if the party was prepared not to sit all together.

  Shelley saw her chance and manoeuvred Daniel into a niche with one tiny table, pulled her top slightly off one shoulder, flicked her hair back, and set to work. Frances, now firmly restored to Nanny mode, and recruited to ensure that her charge was kept away from the polluting influence of empty beer glasses, was unfortunately positioned just where she was forced to watch the performance.

  She wasn’t the only spectator.

  “Will you look at that tart, trying to play the vamp with poor Daniel!” Margery barely kept her voice down. “As if he’s going to fall for that sort of cheap trollop’s tricks! …Does she really think an intelligent young man like him is going to be interested in some common little piece employed as his cousin’s nursemaid?”

  Frances felt her cheeks grow hot. She could only be thankful that Margery hadn’t seen her and Daniel together this morning, or overheard Shelley’s accusation of using similar tactics herself. …What if his nice mother had been secretly thinking on the same lines? Daniel was going to become a doctor. Obviously they wouldn’t want him forming a relationship with someone who hadn’t even been to college. How stupid of her to have imagined, even for a moment, that he was being anything more than kind to Tobias’s nanny!

  Hilary was having a much better time. For one happy moment, it had looked as if she and Oliver were going to end up sitting by themselves, but Tony wouldn’t allow that. “Come on, you two, we can pull these tables together. …Get another chair. You move round, Julia.”

  Posy skipped between the tables, poking her fingers into her mother’s parcels one minute, the next hopping across to advise Tobias what to eat, or go and make sheep’s eyes at a strange man at the bar.

  Julia and Tony were in good form, and the food, when it eventually came, was excellent. Oliver, prompted by relics of the wool trade displayed on the walls, entertained them with the story of how he and Margery’s friend Nigel, a historic buildings inspector, had visited a historic and very run-down farmhouse, and nearly been shot by the farmer.

  There was only one jarring moment.

  ”Hullo, hullo! …Looks as if Daniel’s getting well in there.” Tony indicated the alcove where he was sitting with Shelley.

  “Oh! - A budding romance, do you think?” Julia nudged Hilary coyly. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if your Daniel got together with our Shelley! We must have him over for a meal, when we’re back in London.”

  No one argued when Margery declared that they’d all seen enough of Cirencester and wouldn’t want to carry on after lunch.

  ”Yes, we must get home. You need your nap, don’t you, precious?”

  “Oh yes, we have to go back now,” Lesley received unexpected support from her niece. “Grime and Brine are coming to play!”

  “Yes, yes! Grime and Brine are coming to play,” echoed an already drowsy Tobias.

  “I think you’re too tired, darling. We’ll make it another time.”

  “You can sleep going back in the car, Tobias,” said the resourceful Posy. “Then you’ll be awake enough to play when we get there.”

  “Well, we’ll see. Stephen, are you going to pay our bill? …Come on, Nanny.”

  “No, Frances must come with us,” Hilary intervened. “She left all her things in Oliver’s car, didn’t you, Frances?”

  The Shirburns turned off to the other park, rejecting Posy’s offer to go with them and ‘make sure’ Tobias went to sleep, and the rest of them made their way back in loosely scattered groups.

  Hilary was walking with Julia and Tony. The others had gone ahead, and Oliver had fallen back to adjust to Margery’s slower pace, pausing to point out things she might find interesting en route, in his usual enthusiastic way.

  “Nice bloke that,” said Tony. “Decent of him to insist on getting our lunch, - godsend, actually, in the circumstances.”

  “Yes, isn’t he a sweetie?” agreed Julia. “So knowledgeable about everything, - and so amusing! That story he told about the mad old farmer was priceless.”

  “They do tend to be witty, of course…”

  “Who does?” Hilary couldn’t think what Tony meant.

  “Homosexuals. I suppose it’s a way of compensating socially.”

  A cold hand clutched at Hilary’s heart. For a momen
t she thought she was going to be sick. …What was he saying, - that Oliver was gay?

  Her face must have reflected something, for Julia laughed and squeezed her arm. “Oh darling, didn’t you realise? …Yes, he and that friend of theirs, Nigel, - queer as coots, apparently. …Isn’t it a shame?”

  CHAPTER 14

  “This is a nice car, isn’t it, Daniel?” Shelley draped herself against Oliver’s bonnet as if she was advertising it. “Bet it’s really comfy. - Not like that old thing of Tony’s.” She looked across disparagingly to where the Discovery was parked, not far away. Frances could see what was coming. “Plenty of room in here, too. I’m still covered in all them bloody needles. …Reckon the old guy would fit in another, if you asked him nicely?”

  Whether or not Daniel would have asked Oliver nicely, Frances was not to discover, for he didn’t have to bother. Hilary had just come up, - looking rather pale, but then she had been walking rather fast. “That’s all right, Shelley, you can swap with me. I’ll go with Tony and Julia.” She hurried away before anyone could argue.

  Shelley shot a look of triumph at Frances, and scrambled into the back the moment Oliver unlocked the car. “Come on, Dan, - we’ll let her ladyship have the front seat. …Ooh, this is cosy, - a real limo.”

  “Where’s Hilary gone?” Oliver stared after her.

  “I don’t know,” said Frances, equally puzzled. “I mean, she said she was going in the other car, but I’m not sure why.”

  How could she have been such a fool? The question pounded through Hilary’s head with every twist of the road. Julia and Posy were chattering away beside her, - she probably responded - but she couldn’t have repeated a word of what was said. …Of course Oliver was gay! How could she possibly not have seen it? - His cultured, sensitive mind, the artistic eye with which he viewed buildings and the landscape, that talent for cooking, even his rather delicate good looks. - It was all there, to anyone but the most naive.

  …Had Tony and Julia realised just how naive she had been? She glanced at Julia, hot at the sudden thought. - But no, they would never have let it rest. If they’d had the slightest inkling that sensible, reserved Cousin Hilary had been tempted out of her grief, that for one moment she’d been crazy enough to imagine… Oh God, what had she managed to convince herself? That an attractive man - mysteriously unattached - was giving signals that could possibly be construed as romantic interest in her, an unexceptional middle-aged widow? …Yes, right, Hilary!