by Judy Astley
Milly and Alfie were gratifyingly impressed. ‘Whee! Santa’s coming soon!’ Alfie bounced up and down clapping excitedly as Milly gave him a thoughtful look.
‘That’s right, he is,’ Emily told him, giving Milly a warning look back. One more year, she wanted, one more year before Alfie too discovered that Santa wasn’t a magical figure that actually existed but merely another childhood lie like the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny.
‘Will we be getting Santa at that place with the beach and the snow?’ Milly asked over tea.
Sam looked at Emily and said, ‘Yes, will we?’
‘Santa goes everywhere,’ she replied carefully, not looking at Sam. ‘He’ll be at every house in the world.’ She crossed her fingers against this blatant untruth.
‘Yes, but will he be there. When we are,’ Milly persisted.
‘We’ll be here, at home, silly!’ Emily said. ‘Santa’s bringing your presents here this year. You know that.’
‘Ohhhh.’ Milly spread the word out for several syllables of disappointment. ‘But Grandma and Granddad and everyone are going to that beach place. I want to go too. And I want to see the bride. Thea’s being one.’
Emily heard Sam sigh. ‘I know, darling. But this year we’re going to be in our own house. Mummy wasn’t very happy there last year.’
‘I was,’ Alfie said. ‘It was nice. I want to go again.’
Over his head, Sam mouthed, ‘See?’ at her. Emily’s hands started to shake. She was doing the wrong thing and she knew it but there was something almost physical about her fear of going to Cove Manor again. She knew she had got everything out of perspective but it was no good telling her, as Sam had several times and her mother just once, that it was ridiculous. She tried to breathe her way through to acceptance but it just wasn’t working. And it wasn’t fair either – Rosie had a phobia about flying but nobody ever told her to get on a plane and simply get over it. No, all their holidays accommodated her fear. They went by sea or train.
‘I tell you what, this week I’ll take you to see Father Christmas at the garden centre,’ Emily tried placating them. ‘He’ll give you a present and you can open it right there, not wait for the day. How about that?’
‘Suppose so,’ Milly said, reluctant to accept this as compensation. ‘I hope it’s a good present. I want a kitten.’
‘Sorry, but Santa doesn’t bring kittens,’ Sam told her. ‘He’s not allowed to carry animals on the sleigh in case they fall off.’ Milly pouted at him.
‘There might be a kitten in the spring,’ Emily heard herself saying, ‘if you’re good.’
‘We’re good!’ Alfie said. ‘We’re really, really good! I want one like that cat down at the beach!’
‘What did you go and say that for?’ Sam asked as the children raced upstairs to get ready for bed. ‘You can’t bribe your way out of this one with a Siamese cat, Emily. I’m going to do some foot-stamping of my own right now. Thea asked me if Milly could be her bridesmaid. I want to tell her yes, so I’m going to. Don’t even think of arguing with me. It’s happening, OK? Whether you come or not, the children and I are going to this wedding. Got it?’
Emily said nothing. She looked through the doorway at her Christmas tree that glittered and shone. The turkey would be arriving the day before Christmas Eve. She’d ordered everything they needed for a family Christmas in their own home, to be together, safe and warm and with the world’s evils locked outside, and Sam was rejecting it. Silently, she left the table and went upstairs to bath the children. Then she would feed Ned and get into bed with him and cuddle him close. With her eyes closed and the promise of sleep, she didn’t have to think about how much Sam was no longer even partly on her side.
It was the last day of term, the nativity play was over and Thea was thankful that none of the children from her class had fallen off the stage, wet their knickers, been sick or done anything else to incur the fury of Melanie. Melanie herself didn’t look too happy but as ‘disapproving’ was her default expression these days this didn’t mean a lot.
As the parents, several of them mopping tears, filed out after the final strains of ‘Away in a Manger’ faded away, the deputy head approached Thea.
‘I don’t know if you’d heard,’ he said, ‘but I’ll be leaving at the end of next term. You should go for my job – it’s high time you were a deputy and you’d be terrific at it.’
‘Hmm … Melanie and I don’t see eye to eye. And also, I’m likely to be moving on myself soon. I’m looking for a job in Cornwall but there’s a bit of a shortage.’
‘Yes – those village schools, once someone’s got a job there, they tend to stick with it. You can probably get supply jobs.’
‘I might have to. I’ll see what’s going. And congratulations – I assume you’re moving up the ladder yourself?’
‘Yep. Head of a big primary out in Kent. We’ve been fancying a move away from London.’
Thea was clearing up the remains of the scattered costumes in her classroom when Melanie came in. ‘I was looking for you,’ she said, as if she’d looked everywhere but the place where she was most likely to find Thea. ‘I wanted a word.’
‘Really? OK …’
‘I just wanted to say that, with Maurice leaving, you might be thinking of applying for the deputy headship. And I’m sorry but I also wanted to warn you that I wouldn’t be able to support the application.’
Thea was taken aback. ‘May I ask why? I think I do a good job here and have been for the last three years. I’m committed to the children and they’re all doing well.’
‘It’s a matter of school policy. I don’t think you and I are on the same page regarding how the place should be run and I think you have … shall we say … rather revolutionary ideas about education.’
‘Really? Good grief. I haven’t been accused of that before. You make me sound like the Che Guevara of education!’
‘I’m just trying to save you the effort of putting together an application, that’s all. They can be very time-consuming,’ Melanie said. ‘As I said, I think you’d be marvellous in a different environment, working with something less structured. Just not one like this where we need to be results-based rather than experimenting with unorthodox techniques. We have to provide what the parents expect and this area has a very demanding demographic. You have woolly ideas about the children being “happy” and about all-inclusive projects. It’s not really for us.’
‘Well, that’s telling me,’ Thea said, then considered for a moment, ‘OK, let me make your Christmas for you, Melanie. I’m giving in my notice, right now.’ She turned to pick up the last of the broken angel wings and shoved them hard into the bin.
‘Thank you,’ Melanie said. ‘You’ll need to send it in writing through the usual channels.’ She smiled. ‘And I wish you a very happy Christmas. Are you doing anything special?’
Thea looked at her, hard. Surely Melanie knew? The staff had had a collection and bought her and Sean a stunning abstract-patterned ceramic bowl from a local gallery. Melanie’s name had been on the card but it had possibly been signed by her PA.
‘Yes, I’m getting married.’
‘Oh yes, of course. I did know that. Well, good luck. I’ll see you next term.’ And she walked out of the classroom, leaving Thea to wonder if she’d actually been effectively fired. Either way, it didn’t matter. She felt as if something that had been weighing a piece of her brain down had been shaken out. Her new work life, whatever it was to be, was under way.
Thea was packing. This was it. She really was going to be marrying Sean on Christmas Day. Apart from a little superstitious sadness about losing the plaited grass ring, everything seemed to be falling into place. Sean had taken Benji down to Cove Manor and reported back that after a day of hissing and lashing out from Woody in the battle for the fireside rug territory, the cat seemed to have accepted the dog. In turn, Benji recognized his place in the household hierarchy; he now backed away from the temptation of Woody’s food bowl after th
e cat had whacked him hard on the nose for stealing Go-Cat.
Anna, on the other hand, had gone into panic mode. ‘Wedding rings. Are you having rings?’ she phoned to ask. ‘You didn’t say.’
‘We are. We’ve each had something special made and we’re keeping them secret from each other. I hope he likes what I’ve done.’
Later, Anna called again. ‘Your dad says you won’t want to be “given away” because you’re not his chattel but don’t you want him to walk you into the room? And where are you staying the night before? You can’t be with Sean, it’s unlucky.’
‘Sean will staying at Pentreath Hall with Paul and Sarah and I’ll be in the stables. If Charlotte comes, she can have the other bedroom. And if Dad wants to walk me into the orangery, that would be absolutely lovely. I was going to ask him anyway and I probably should have done before now.’ She felt quite tearful at the thought and hoped that on the day she wouldn’t end up with make-up trickling down her face. She probably would. All weddings she’d ever been to ended with the bride, groom and many of the congregation in tears.
‘Right.’ Anna sighed. ‘So everything’s organized? I feel I haven’t had to do anything useful. But I have got the most glorious hat. It might even outdo Rosie’s.’
‘All I need is for you to be there,’ Thea said. ‘And if you could help me put some orange and red streaks in my hair the night before, that would be brilliant.’
Anna cheered up. ‘Ooh yes, I can do that. I’ll bring disposable gloves. I don’t want orange hands on the day. Now …’ She went quiet for a few seconds. ‘… Have you heard anything from Emily?’
‘Sam said he’s got a plan. I’ve no idea what but I’m to say nothing to Emily. We’ve got to wait and see. Actually, I’m seeing her this afternoon. She wants me to go with her to take the children to visit Santa at the garden centre grotto near her. It’s my last chance to persuade her to come.’
‘Oh dear. I do hope it works out. If she doesn’t come, you’ll hardly notice among all the excitement and in the end it’s you and Sean that count. But Emily, she’ll regret it for ever.’
Thea was rather nervous about this outing with Emily. It had been Sam’s idea. ‘I’ll get her to invite you out for lunch,’ he’d said to Thea, ‘to see if she can bring herself to apologize and salvage something of the sisterhood. Maybe she can be shamed into changing her mind. Something will work out, trust me.’
‘OK, I’ll go but I’m leaving the next morning so any salvaging will have to be fairly quick.’
It wasn’t going to be lunch. Thea was quite glad as she’d slightly dreaded the prospect of sitting opposite Emily and finding something to talk about that wasn’t ‘the Situation’. She’d been prepared to describe her wedding dress, tell her about the cream lace-fronted boots she’d come across in a charity shop when taking a bag of clothes (including the green velvet dress with its mended sleeve) in to sell. She’d even imagined Emily telling her off for buying used boots (Emily wrinkling her nose and saying, ‘Ugh, strangers’ feet’) but they’d been so gorgeous, barely worn and in her size, that she didn’t see why on earth she should reject them. It felt as if she was giving them a new home, like a puppy. After all, as she’d have told Emily if they’d actually had the conversation, lots of people buy shoes that turn out to hurt a bit and only wear them that painful once.
The garden centre had been completely taken over by Christmas. If you wanted to buy anything that wasn’t holly, mistletoe, a Christmas tree or a poinsettia plant then you’d be out of luck, plant-wise. Inside, a million Christmas decorations were arranged in colour-coordinated displays and boxes of crackers were stacked dozens high.
‘Do you think they get the same tat out every year or do they ever actually sell out of things?’ Emily asked Thea. ‘It’s only a few more days to go and there’s a massive warehouse-worth still on offer.’
‘No idea. But I suppose there’s no “Best Before” on a box of crackers or shiny baubles so it wouldn’t matter.’
‘And who likes those poinsettias? There must be miles of glasshouses somewhere, growing nothing else,’ Emily said. She looked mildly frightened. ‘It’s all just so much.’ She shuddered.
Milly and Alfie had run off and were clashing wind-chimes behind the display of raffia reindeer. Emily and Thea joined a slow queue for Santa’s makeshift grotto, a flimsy plastic construction meant to look like a snow-capped cave, surrounded by fake fir trees and some reindeer like the Over-the-Roads’. Lights flickered on and off; some were broken so it was all a bit uncoordinated. If anyone with migraine tendencies stayed there long, it wouldn’t end well.
‘All this …’ Emily said, waving her arm over the top of Ned’s sleeping head. ‘All here and then instantly gone. I can’t bear it, this year. Usually I love it. I think it was last year that spoiled it for me.’
Thea felt something of an ouch-moment. ‘Now come on, it wasn’t all bad. Didn’t you love finding out you were pregnant? I so envied you.’
‘No, I didn’t. Not at the time. It was a huge and horrible shock.’ Then she gasped, ‘Oh, Thea, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, especially as—’
‘Yes. I know. Mine was due on Christmas Day. But it wasn’t to be and you live with what you get, in the end. Actually’ – she put her arm through Emily’s – ‘I saw Rich recently and although I was devastated to lose the baby at only twelve weeks, I’m so glad now that I won’t be having one of his. Not that I wouldn’t have loved it if it had worked out, obviously.’
‘I rather liked him,’ Emily said. ‘At least he was …’ she laughed ‘… sensible. Sorry, but that’s awful, isn’t it? If the best you can say about a man is that he’s “sensible” it’s not a lot. Sean is so much more … you.’
‘So come down to Cove Manor,’ Thea asked, ‘even on Christmas Eve, as last minute as you like. Please, Em?’
It was their turn next with Santa. Milly and Alfie came flying over and hurled themselves into the dimly lit cavern in front of Thea and Emily before Emily could answer the question. Thea cursed the timing as they bent to get in through the low curtained doorway.
‘Ho ho ho, little boy and girl!’ The ho-hos boomed out loud and clear but the voice wasn’t a particularly deep one. Santa’s face was mostly hidden behind plenty of beard and the hood came low over his eyes. Milly pulled back, clutching Thea’s coat.
‘Have you been good children?’ Santa asked in time-honoured fashion.
‘They’ve been as good as children their age can be,’ Emily answered for them as they both seemed to have been struck unusually dumb.
‘Then you deserve lovely, lovely presents. What would you like Father Christmas to bring on Christmas Day?’
Milly found her voice. ‘A kitten.’
‘I want to go to the beach place,’ Alfie said.
‘Oh, do you? I wonder if that might be possible or not?’ Santa looked up at Emily. Then: ‘I heard something nice,’ Santa’s oddly pitched voice went on. ‘I heard you, little girl, are going to be a bridesmaid.’
Milly stared, her eyes wide.
‘What?’ Emily said. ‘I don’t think so!’
‘I want to be! Mummy, say I can be!’
Emily glared at Thea. ‘Did you put him up to this? What the hell is going on?’
‘Of course I didn’t!’
Santa reached into a sack, first taking his black gloves off to rifle around among the packages.
‘Santa’s got nail varnish on!’ Milly yelled. And Santa had. Thea could see several shades of pink, different on each fingernail. She knew someone who often did that …
‘Santa’s got high heels on as well,’ Alfie said. Milly giggled and stepped further forward. Emily and Thea were just too slow to see what was coming. Milly hauled off the beard and Alfie pulled back the hood before either of the grown-ups could stop them. Santa flailed an arm and knocked over a big plaster elf, which clattered into the next one and sent them rolling through the fabric doorway and into the waiting queue. Children outside start
ed wailing. There was a flash and a bang and the lights went out.
‘It’s Charlotte!’ Milly shrieked, opening the curtain and telling the assembled line. ‘Father Christmas is called Charlotte.’
‘Oh God, what the fuck is going on? Why is everything always you?’ Emily said, picking up the beard and shoving it hard at Charlotte, who was trying to pull the hood up again.
A couple of people who looked like management came hurtling in. ‘What’s going on? Where’s your beard? God, I knew we were taking a risk with you …’
‘I’ll meet you in the coffee shop,’ Charlotte said to Thea. ‘I’m guessing this might be my last day.’
Thea got the teas, some apple juice and cupcakes and carried them to the table where a fuming Emily was waiting. Charlotte, still in her Santa coat and looking like she was heading for a fancy dress bash, came and sat with them.
‘How could you?’ Emily tore straight into Thea. ‘You set this up and now look what you’ve done. She’ll be all disappointed. She hasn’t even got a dress, even if she could go to the wedding.’
‘I didn’t set up anything,’ Thea insisted. ‘I had no idea Charlotte was working here. Also, it was your idea to come here, not mine, remember?’
‘Oh, and Milly has got a dress,’ Charlotte said. ‘Thea and I found just the thing, in case there was a change of mind at the last minute. Thea’s got it at home. I’m sorry, I thought Sam would have had all this out with you by now.’
‘Sam? He knows all this? He’s been plotting with you? He can’t do that! It’s never him who does the organizing because he’s useless at it – it’s my role. I’ve got all of Christmas planned for having it here. Just like he promised we could after last year. What can I do?’
Charlotte sipped her tea and then shrugged. ‘It’s simple. Unarrange it.’
TWENTY-FIVE
Most of Thea’s party were now down in Cornwall, settled into Cove Manor ready for Christmas and the wedding, but the lack of Emily and her family was keenly felt. It was a bit of a ‘Don’t mention the war’ situation. Somehow, however much anyone tried to avoid talking about her, her absence kept coming up in conversation.