A Proper Family Christmas

by Jane Gordon - Cumming

  The board game wasn’t going well. Tobias was too young for it, Shelley too stupid, and the older boys too unused to anything which didn’t involve a joy-stick. Leo, on the other hand, was taking it with deadly seriousness, and increasingly failing to hide his fury at being beaten by Posy.

  “It’s all luck, of course,” he said, after a particularly inept move had lost him half his precious cargo.

  “No it’s not,” said Daniel unkindly. “If you hadn’t chosen to risk the Venture card, instead of throwing the dice…”

  Scratch chose that strategic moment to give in to temptation, and see what a helpful paw might do for the course of Brine’s little space-ship.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake keep that cat off the board!”

  There was a gasp of mingled horror and admiration. Frances just hoped that Tobias, staring open-mouthed at Leo, wasn’t adding the word to his carefully-prepared store of vocabulary.

  Shelley tittered. Grime and Brine, sensing anarchy, began to kick each other under the table. Posy threw a six, and with a triumphant crow brought her piece to within one square of the mother-ship that represented Home.

  “…So how are you getting on?” Lesley came in with Mrs. Arncott. “Oh Tobias, darling, haven’t you got any of your little thingies left? …Look, Leo’s got plenty. I’m sure he’ll let you have some of his, to make it more fair, as you’re only small.”

  “Don’t!” said Leo through his teeth. Anyone could see he was restraining himself from slapping those predatory fingers.

  “Whose winning?” said Mrs. Arncott, as he made his move. “Ooh, it looks as if you are, Mr. Watlington!”

  “Posy’s just about to beat him,” said Daniel. “You’ve come in at the death.”

  “Well, she is a bit older than Tobias,” pleaded Lesley, reluctant to give her niece her due. “I really think it would be fairer to start again, with some sort of handicap…”

  But at that moment, Posy got the throw she needed.

  She punched the air, leapt off her chair and did a triumphant dance in front of Leo, who turned as green as his space-ship. Grime whooped and for no obvious reason started to thump his brother. Scratch, not to be outdone, jumped onto the table, scattering all the pieces.

  “No… Look… You’re all being very silly…” But Lesley was powerless to stop the mayhem.

  “Well done, Posy,” said Frances, with a nod to show Tobias that this was correct conduct for the loser of a game, a role previously outside his experience. “Let’s play something different now, shall we? - Something a bit more active that we can all join in.”

  “I know, - sardines!” said Posy, still on a high. “Have you played that, Brine? It’s easy. Like hide-and-seek, but you all end up squashed together in the cupboard.” She looked at her new friends speculatively.

  “No, I don’t think that’s a very good idea…”

  But Lesley was outnumbered. She barely had time to declare the bedrooms out of bounds, before everyone bounded away with shrieks of delight.

  “You have the front seat,” Margery suggested, holding open the car door.

  Hilary hesitated. Was she ready for this? It was all very well being brightly normal for five minutes, but sitting beside Oliver in the dark on the long journey home…

  “Er - why not let William go in front this time? We can gossip in the back.”

  “Righty-ho.” Margery climbed in beside her. “So - Christmas Day tomorrow,” she reminded them, as they set off. “I trust you’ll be dressing up in your red coat and beard to amuse the children, William!”

  “Ha!”

  Margery chuckled. “Miserable old Scrooge! …Bet you haven’t bought them any presents, either.”

  “Don’t get a choice!” grumbled William. “Bloody Julia’s already had me putting my name to some parcel she’s wrapped for Posy. And Ratso and Stephen seem to think I’m going to stump up for a bicycle for Tobias, - as if he’s old enough to ride one!”

  “You bought Daniel his first bike,” said Hilary reminiscently. “What a long time ago that seems!” She sometimes felt a little guilty at the generosity William had always shown Daniel, in contrast to his own grandchildren.

  “I don’t mind dressing up as Santa Claus, if you think the children would enjoy it,” said Oliver. “Though I don’t know what I’d do for a costume.”

  “My red dressing-gown!” said Margery at once, “and cotton wool on your face. What’s more, they’ve bought Posy one of those silly Christmas hats. I saw it on the peg.”

  “He’s going to look bloody ridiculous with that on his head!”

  What a nice man Oliver was, Hilary thought, - offering to make a fool of himself to entertain a couple of small children who were nothing to do with him. Just as he had driven them all this way so that William could see the film he wanted. Yes, Oliver Leafield was the sort of kind, amusing, interesting person one that in any other circumstances one would be delighted to have for a friend. …And why not? Lots of women had gay friendships, didn’t they? Wouldn’t that be the answer, - a way of keeping this wonderful man in her life?

  “Where is everybody?” said Margery, as they let themselves back into the house.“I can’t think.”

  Hilary, her mind still elsewhere, opened the cupboard to hang up her coat. “…Oh!”

  “What?” said Margery at her shoulder. “Oh my goodness!”

  Buried among the coats in the darkness were Kath Arncott and Leo, closely intertwined in each other’s arms.

  CHAPTER 15

  “I thought only one person was supposed to hide!”

  “Well yes, but when the others find them, they hide too…” There wasn’t a lot of point in Frances trying to explain the principles of Sardines to Lesley, when the game had become a total free for all. The children were in and out of cupboards and behind doors, hiding and discovering each other with delighted screams, apparently at random. Inevitably Daniel and Shelley had vanished early in the proceedings, - although Kath and Leo had just reappeared, looking respectively exultant and embarrassed.

  “I really think we need to round everybody up now,” said Lesley. “The others are back, and Mrs. Arncott will want to take her boys home for their tea. …Come here, Tobias. …Posy, can’t you stand still for a minute? - Oh dear, where has her wretched nanny gone?”

  “She went upstairs,” said her charge, “to see if Daniel was hiding in one of the bedrooms.”

  “Well of course not! I put them out of bounds.”

  Before Frances could disillusion her, Julia emerged from the sitting-room. “Hello darlings? Having a lovely time? …I’ve finished the tree now, so you must all come and admire it after tea.”

  “Did someone say ‘tea’?” Stephen appeared from the study. “That sounds an excellent idea.”

  “Oh no…” Lesley tried to lower her voice, “we don’t want to get involved in that, - they’re just about to leave.”

  “Oh but you’ll have to give them tea!” exclaimed Julia, raising an eyebrow at Tony, who was coming downstairs.

  “Yes of course! Can’t send a pack of kids home with empty stomachs, - eh, Posy?”

  “Tea! …Tea!”

  “Would you ever have thought it of Leo?” exclaimed Margery, as they went up to put their things away.

  “I suspect Kath’s more to blame than him. You know what a man-eater she is.”

  “I dare say you’re right.” Margery looked almost disappointed.

  Hilary wasn’t terribly interested in what Leo and Kath might have been up to in the coat-cupboard, - she was too preoccupied with the problems in her own emotional life. …Would it be possible for her to remain ‘just good friends’ with Oliver Leafield? There was little doubt that he liked her as a person, and had been enjoying her companionship. …Oh dear, what if he had noticed her avoiding him, and put it down to prejudice on discovering that he was gay? That would be terrible! The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

  “Good heavens, girl, what are you doing in here?” Margery exclam
ation came from across the landing.

  “Oh, hi! Are you back? - I was looking for Daniel.”

  “Well you’re not going to find him in my bedroom, are you?” Margery shook her head in bemusement as Shelley disappeared.

  Hilary went into her own room and kicked her shoes off with a despairing sigh. …If only she had known about Oliver from the beginning! They would have formed an amusing friendship in almost exactly the same way, he wouldn’t have noticed any difference in how she treated him, and she would have been saved this awful, hollow sense of bereavement. The tragedy was that it was too late now. Having been stupid enough to fall in love with the man, - and she might as well admit that’s what had happened, - she knew that trying to maintain a relationship on any different sort of basis would simply tear her apart!

  It would have been a gross understatement to say that it was an uncomfortable tea party. They would have been better off in the less formal surroundings of the kitchen, but, assuming that everyone would want tea, Lesley had got Frances to help her clear the dining-room table and lay it with all the works. It was probably the first time in their lives that Grime and Brine had been faced with a linen cloth, bone china cups and a silver teapot, and they were suitably overawed.

  In the event, Julia had bowed out, saying she would take the ‘grown ups’ a cup in the sitting-room, and Leo had made his escape with her, pleading an urgent need to talk to Hilary. Stephen, who hadn’t been so lucky, sat at one end of the table, with Lesley at the other. Mrs. Arncott alternated between sitting down, to confirm her role as guest, and standing up to carry the pot round, and made her children feel even more cowed by continually picking up on imagined breaches of polite behaviour: “Not with your knife, Grime! Where do you think you are?” …“Don’t reach across, Brine! Say ‘Please would you kindly pass the jam?’”

  Shelley eventually put in an appearance, but Daniel didn’t. When Posy asked where he was, she raised her eyebrows and said “I wonder!” in an arch way which suggested she knew perfectly well. He must have told her to cover for him.

  Conversation was subdued and stilted, it being all too clear that everyone would much rather have been somewhere else. Even Scratch was conscious of the atmosphere of restraint as he nosed about under the table. No one had dropped any crumbs, and one glance at Lesley made him feel it would be unwise to jump on anybody’s knee.

  Julia popped her head in. “Oh, don’t you all look cosy in here? …Mind if I borrow the sugar basin?”

  Scratch decided to follow her back to the sitting-room. So far Julia had managed to keep him and the tree apart, and unlike his master William, Scratch was very fond of Christmas trees.

  Margery had been resolute in her refusal to come down for tea, saying that she needed to rest. Hilary wished she had the courage to do the same. Oliver would be there, and she still hadn’t worked out a way of dealing with that. But Julia had seemed so keen for her to come and admire the tree she’d spent all afternoon decorating that she hadn’t had the heart to insist on remaining upstairs.

  The tree was lovely. One had to admit that Julia did that kind of thing supremely well. She’d resisted the temptation to add colour, or use the box of old decorations that had been in William’s family from time immemorial, but she’d stuck to gold and silver, with real glass baubles, miniature candles, and a magnificent star at the top.

  “Oh it’s wonderful, Julia! I can never stop mine from trying to keeling over, or having all the lights showing on one side. Someone ought to take a photograph.”

  “Good idea! I’ll get my camera after tea.” Oliver smiled at her. Unprepared, she felt a kind of whoosh and then a pain, as if he’d hurled a missile which had landed in her stomach. She made every effort to smile back, and failed.

  “Yes, do! We must have lots of nice pictures of us all gathered round singing carols or something,” gushed Julia. “Find a chair, Hilary. …I’ll be back in a tick. I forgot the sugar.”

  “Come and sit here. I wanted a word…”

  Oh no, she really didn’t want to sit next to Leo! …But then she didn’t much want to share the sofa with Tony either. - And as for Oliver, she daren’t even look in his direction, for fear of that blow striking again.

  William, bless him, must have noticed her hesitation. “It would be nice if you kept an old man company for a change. There’s a perfectly good seat here.”

  She took it gratefully. For a moment it seemed that Leo was going to draw his chair nearer. Then he sat down, staring at the window.

  “Have you ever thought this place might be haunted?” he asked no one in particular.

  “Good lord, Leo, a rational man like you doesn’t believe in ghosts?” exclaimed Tony, with an amused glance at the others.

  “No of course not - really.” Leo’s gaze was still on the window. No one had drawn the curtains yet, making a pretty effect with the reflections from the tree. “I had some rather strange experiences when I was alone here this morning, that’s all. …And I could have sworn that curtain moved just now.”

  “Well there’s a howling draft from the window,” Tony reminded him. “Needs double-glazing.”

  “…My God, it’s just too funny!” Julia giggled as she came back with the sugar. “You should see the ghastly tea-party they’re having next door, - all the best china, and Stephen and Lesley playing Lord and Lady of the Manor to the Tenantry, teaching those poor little boys to crook their little fingers and use a butter-knife!”

  “Practising for when they inherit Haseley House, I suppose - God help us!” chuckled Tony. “There’ll be no holding them then, will there? …Sales of work for the Poor and Needy of the Parish, Open Days for the local yokels, - with Lesley in a terrible hat and Stephen making one of his speeches.”

  “Aren’t we horrid?” said Julia cheerfully. “But I can’t think what possessed Lesley to make the Arncotts stay on for tea. I thought she was as keen to get shot of them as everyone else, and they really have had a fair whack. Poor little Posy’s exhausted!”

  “Personally I think Tobias will go to the bad,” Tony continued his speculations. “He’ll get some unsuitable village girl up the duff - an Arncott cousin, probably, - and end up being forced to make her his Lady of the Manor. …What do you reckon, Hilary?”

  “Shot-gun weddings aren’t very fashionable nowadays,” she pointed out, uncomfortable at being drawn into this.

  “Don’t, Tony!” Julia shuddered. “Just imagine if the whole cycle started again with another Lesley? It’s quite unbearable.”

  “Scratch,” said Oliver suddenly, “what are you doing?”

  Oh betrayer! …And he’d been so close!

  Scratch had crept in behind Julia, eager to see if this Christmas tree lived up to expectations, - and discovered cat heaven! Strands of gold and silver lametta wafted provocatively to and fro in the draft; delicate balls of glass dangled just within reach; every branch held a tempting spiky candle that made one’s paws itch to poke them. No one could have been more appreciative of Julia’s efforts, and Scratch had been about to enjoy them to the full. Foiled in mid spring, he sat back on his haunches and directed a look of deep reproach at his erstwhile friend.

  “Oh no, how did he get in here? I’ll swear I haven’t let a soul past me all afternoon,” wailed Julia. “Naughty cat! You mustn’t jump on the Christmas tree,” she told him, with the effectualness shown in bringing up her child.

  About to treat that command with the respect it deserved, Scratch was suddenly distracted. He stiffened, staring at the bottom of the curtain.

  “There! The cat’s seen something now.” Leo pointed a triumphant, if slightly shaking finger.

  “Probably a mouse,” said Tony, eyeing Hilary, but it was Julia who obliged with a little shriek.

  “Funny colour then,” said Oliver. Risking a look, Hilary saw that he was laughing.

  The curtain laughed back, then flung itself aside.

  “…Oh all right then, fair cop!” said Daniel. “But admit you never would
have found me yourselves.”

  Frances felt another wave of homesickness as they bathed the children and put them to bed. Christmas Eve had always been such a magical time at home! Although it was several years since even Alex had believed in Father Christmas, they still kept up the fiction, - everyone, including Frances, hanging their stockings up, in delighted anticipation of the annual miracle that would see them bulging with little parcels in the morning. And the excitement of waking in the early hours and unwrapping them all had never quite died, even though no one expected more than novelty pencil-sharpeners or chocolate teddies, with the regulation tangerine in the toe.

  Posy and Tobias had been given stockings to hang up too, but the magic of the occasion was tainted by a subtly materialistic atmosphere which Frances found depressing.

  “My stocking’s bigger than yours, Tobias. That means I’ll get more presents!”

  “Nonsense, Posy! Do you think Father Christmas gives more to children with fatter legs?” …Or to children whose Mummies wore long sexy nylons, rather than thick woollen socks.

  “And Santa only brings stuff to kids who’ve been good this year,” Shelley reminded her, with a playful clout.

  “When we’re at home I have a pillow-case as well,” went on the irrepressible Posy, “else all my presents won’t fit in.”

  Having glimpsed the collection of ‘stocking-fillers’ scattered over Julia’s bed ready for packing, Frances could see the logic of this. She just hoped that some tactful compromise would be reached with the mother of a child who’d only been given a woolly sock to fill.

  “Sounds as if the chimney won’t be wide enough for all your presents,” she observed drily. “Perhaps Father Christmas will have to save some for later.”

  “Oh no, I don’t like saving. I like to have everything now,” Posy informed them. “…Anyway,” she went on, with a sly look at Tobias, “I know something about Father Christmas, - something secret. Shall I tell you what it is?”