Christmas at Bay Tree Cottage

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Christmas at Bay Tree Cottage Page 10

by Linn B. Halton


  ‘That’s such good news, my son.’ Dad chips in, beaming from ear to ear.

  It’s only one night, but all they get to see Joe since the split is an hour or two if they are lucky, once a week. In the summer we’ll be able to go out on a few trips together, but in winter it’s harder to find things to do. So I usually take Joe swimming, or to one of the play centres. He loves slides and the bouncy castle, but it requires a lot of energy to keep an eye on him and help when he gets stuck or tries to be too adventurous.

  ‘It looks like we’re finally reaching that point where it’s no longer about us, but all about Joe. It’s a relief, I’ll be honest.’

  Mum manoeuvres Joe down onto her hip and comes across, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘It’s about time, Luke. Maybe now you can relax a little and start living again. You’re too young for life to be solely about money worries, responsibility and work. It’s time to bring a little fun back into it, because if you’re happy then Joe is going to notice that. Kids can sense anxiety.’ When a mum has her mothering head on, all you can do is agree. In my heart I know she’s right, but it’s not a road I’m in a hurry to go down again. Then I remember Greg.

  ‘Actually, I’m making up a foursome with Greg very soon.’

  It’s an offering and at least it will put a temporary halt to all her worrying. She’ll take it that I’m making an effort for myself, as long as I don’t enlighten her about the truth of the matter.

  ‘Good for you! But don’t go using Greg as a role model, his track record shows he has an aversion to commitment. Obviously you won’t go jumping into anything serious without a lot of thought, but having a long succession of women passing through your life is equally as problematic. It’s all about balance, my son. We just need to get some back into yours.’

  ‘Yes, Ma. I am listening.’

  She gives me one of her ‘through the eyes of a mother’ looks. She thinks I’m a catch and that I deserve the love of a good woman. She doesn’t see the screw-up I am, so I’m hoping that I can turn that around before reality dawns. Whatever I get myself into in future, I will at least be going into it with my eyes wide open.

  Mentally I begin making a list of the perfect woman for me:

  Ability to love someone with their heart and soul.

  An understanding that kids come first, always.

  Willing to work as a couple and not sit back and take things for granted.

  A confident and competent person in their own right.

  Honest, open and in touch with their emotions.

  Mum would laugh if she could hear my thoughts. If that’s my tick list for the perfect woman, then it strikes me I probably sound more like a middle-aged man than a young go-getter.

  Chapter 19

  Elana

  Time to Shop!

  The envelope with confirmation of funds being transferred into my account arrives in the post and it’s almost as though Christmas has finally arrived. I hold it in my hands and pull it to my chest. My Amazon wish list is all set up and ready to go.

  ‘Christmas is happening,’ I whisper, under my breath. We have one week until Maya breaks up from school for the holidays and there’s so much to sort out. The flooring and underlay were delivered late yesterday and that used up a third of the money Mum and Dad gave me for the work on the house. Now I can happily hand over the first chunk of cash to Luke for his labour costs to date, which will be a huge relief. I had to hold back in case there was a problem with the money being transferred, as I’m at the top of my overdraft facility.

  At least it looks likely I’ll have enough to keep us going until the next payment in April, the big one for the biography, combined with the other smaller jobs I’ve also completed. Assuming, of course, that I get all the information and co-operation I need so I can deliver the full manuscript. Working hard and focusing is something that comes naturally to me, so letting anyone down just isn’t an option.

  Niall, I’ve done it and there’s still time to pull it together for Maya. As I send out that thought I cast my eyes around; can he hear me?

  ‘Mum, can we finish the bead strings for the tree?’ Maya’s voice filters down the stairs.

  ‘Yes, we can. I don’t need to work today and I think we should pop out and do some Christmas shopping, what do you think?’

  A little head appears, poking over the top of banister rail.

  ‘Oh, Mum! Could we? I want to buy you something very special.’

  My heart squishes up inside of me. Shouldn’t she be excited about touring the toy shops, her mind full of what Santa might bring her?

  ‘Grab your coat. We’ll make a day of it.’

  ***

  Diary Log – day 495. 16 days to Christmas and finally it’s all going to happen! As young as she is, Maya can tell when I’m under pressure and suddenly it’s been lifted. A lot can happen in 16 days!

  Money doesn’t make for happiness. However, having to wait for funds to arrive so you know you can pay the bills for the next four months and afford to put food on the table is another matter. Unless you’ve been in that situation and have a child depending upon you, then you have no idea how the pressure builds.

  We had a really fun day, with burgers, chips and ice cream. Stopping on the way home to buy freshly made biscuits, with the largest chunks of chocolate I have ever seen. We didn’t spend much in the end because that wasn’t what it was about; it was about the feeling that if anything did take our fancy I could say ‘let’s get it’. Maya made me turn my back while she looked for her special gift for me and then I stood there patiently while she counted out two handfuls of change from her money box.

  The lady serving her was lovely and she even gift-wrapped it for Maya, who wouldn’t put it in my bag and insisted on carrying it herself. I’d overheard her whispering to the lady as she wrapped it up, ‘It’s perfect. Simply perfect!’

  ‘You have a very lovely daughter,’ the woman remarked as Maya gave her a wave goodbye.

  ‘Thank you, I’ve been blessed.’

  If only she knew the full story, she’d probably be in tears. I was fighting to keep my eyes from misting over, that’s for sure.

  As we shopped for Mum and Dad’s presents, Maya showed as much interest as if it was something for her. Niall’s parents’ present I’ll order in the morning, as we always bought them a hamper from Harrods. They are a couple who have everything they want and it’s one of the few gifts that probably wouldn’t end up in the charity shop in January. Sad, but true, and even Niall knew that.

  For Eve and Rick we chose a diamond-shaped lead crystal paperweight. It was a little more expensive than some of the others, but they’ve been so supportive I wanted to give them something special. They have a display cabinet for their collection of paperweights and each has a story behind it. I think that’s rather romantic, as quite a few celebrate wedding anniversaries and birthdays. Now they have one from us to thank them for being such special friends.

  For Amelie, Maya chose a Collectibles unicorn named Fantasy.

  ‘Mum, that’s perfect. Amelie has most of them but she doesn’t have that one.’

  The little figurine seemed to stand out on the shelf. It was lovely to see Maya so excited to find something she regarded as the perfect thing for her best friend.

  We bought a present for her teacher and one for her favourite teaching assistant. I then picked up some chocolates for the postman and my list was complete. After Maya goes to bed tonight I’ll jump on the PC and then Christmas will be delivered in a series of boxes over the coming week.

  One large, online food shop and even if the snow they forecast does arrive, we’ll be all set up. Someone up there is surely looking over us. However, while Amazon can deliver most of Maya’s presents, there’s one special one I still have to organise. What I want this Christmas is to hear a happy, happy, shriek of unfettered joy and disbelief!

  Chapter 20

  Elana

  The Empty Space at the Table

&
nbsp; Sunday morning is always a leisurely wake-up as Maya comes into bed to snuggle and we talk about everything and anything. Today Amelie is spending the day here, so Eve and Rick can visit the mall. The girls are going to finish the bead chains for the tree, which is an important part of our ritual. This year Maya is assembling them in a rainbow of colours; last year it was single colours for each strand.

  As we await Amelie’s arrival I busy myself in the kitchen, preparing pancake batter and slicing brioche ready to toast. As I’m washing the raspberries Luke arrives and I hear Maya in the porch, chattering away to him.

  ‘Sounds like a great shopping trip,’ he muses as Maya dances around him. Looking down at his feet I notice he has the holey sock on his right foot again. He catches my stare and grins back at me.

  ‘Behind on the washing again. For some reason I keep losing socks. They go into the machine in pairs, I swear, but I end up with a collection of singles so the holey ones never get thrown in the bin.’

  ‘It’s the sock fairy,’ Maya informs him in all seriousness. ‘Mummy says she likes to take one now and again to decorate her house.’

  Luke and I burst out laughing; be careful what tales you spin to young children as they will quote them back at you.

  Once she’s out of earshot, I indicate for Luke to take a seat at the table and pour him a coffee.

  ‘Breakfast won’t be long; we’re just waiting for Amelie.’

  ‘How are you doing today? Glad to hear you had a good one yesterday. Maya is in high spirits.’

  ‘Be prepared, this is just the start. Once school finishes it’s going to be like someone’s been force-feeding her doughnuts. Oh, maybe Joe’s too young for you to have seen the sugar-rush effect. Well, Christmas is like a double dose.’

  I make a face as I warn him and then break into a grin. Maya’s festive cheer is infectious and I can’t believe how low my spirits have been lately.

  ‘Actually, I’ll cook you a couple of pancakes now and I can feed the girls in a bit. I’ll try to limit them to Maya’s bedroom and the sitting room. I’ve moved my PC into the sitting room, too, so I won’t be in the way. What’s on the agenda today?’

  Luke sips his coffee while leaning back in the chair with one arm hooked around the ladder back. He looks relaxed and I’m almost tempted to ask how it went yesterday with Joe, but I decide it’s best to leave it to him if he wants to begin that conversation.

  ‘Hey, you’re spoiling me, but who doesn’t love pancakes? Well, today it’s going to be a bit noisy to start with as I’ll be ripping off the skirting boards. I will move that stack of flooring first, though. Is it okay if I pile it up in the porch so I don’t have to keep moving it around as I work? I want to get the underlay done in the dining room and make a start laying the laminate. I’ll do the cutting outside, so although it will involve a bit of hammering inside, there shouldn’t be much mess.’ Luke talks me through his plan as I place a breakfast plate of brioche, jam and pancakes in front of him.

  ‘Maple syrup is in the jug. I’ve been told that keeping your builder well fed is a wise move. It keeps him coming back for more.’ I wink at him and he puts his head back and laughs out loud.

  ‘Pretty see-through, am I? To be honest, after a day out with Joe and a lot of crawling around on the floor playing with cars, I’m starving this morning.’

  He eats like a man who hasn’t been fed for a while and although I’m pretending to wipe down the work tops, I watch surreptitiously out of the corner of my eye. There are some appreciative noises as he eats and he makes quick work of the pancakes and raspberries.

  ‘Now that’s good. I think I should be paying you for my meals if you insist on catering for me like this.’ He looks up at me quite seriously.

  ‘And that reminds me! I drew out some cash for you; it’s in an envelope on top of the stack of flooring. As soon as you have a moment let me know exactly how much I owe you and I’ll draw out the rest. Are you happy for me to pay you week by week?’

  He frowns, then shovels the last piece of brioche into his mouth as he rises from the table. He nods several times until his mouth is empty.

  ‘Thanks, appreciated. I’m keeping a record of the hours I work and giving you a forty-per-cent reduction on the firm’s going rate. Least I can do,’ he smiles. I watch as he brushes a few crumbs from the corner of his mouth. Then he grins at me in that boyish way of his. It’s easy to forget he’s not some brash twenty-four-year-old who hasn’t a clue about real life, when he gives me that trademark look of his.

  I suppose it won’t be too long before his broken heart begins to heal and he’ll fall under the spell of some other young woman. I hope, for his sake, that next time it’s someone who won’t disappoint him.

  I realise he hasn’t moved; he’s standing with his hand on the back of the chair looking directly at me.

  ‘That’s quite an intense look you’ve got going on there. Problems?’

  I shake my head and turn back to the sink to swill off the cloth in my hand.

  ‘Just a stray thought, you know how it is. If the girls get in the way at any time, just shout. I’m going to be doing some work tucked up in the corner of the sitting room.’

  ‘Will do,’ he calls over his shoulder as he walks away from the table.

  What would it be like to live here with another man? To cook him breakfast and hold hands over a table at which I can still see Niall sitting across from me? I can’t even contemplate being in a place where I want to invite anyone into our home, or our lives. Doing the dating thing in a restaurant and then moving on to the next step and bringing someone home makes my stomach churn at the thought.

  ‘You’re a lost cause, Elana, and you know it’, my doubting alter ego seems to whisper in my ear. Only the chimes from the doorbell springing into life interrupt my thoughts.

  ‘Maya, Amelie is here.’

  Chapter 21

  Elana

  Is a Little Sparkle a Dangerous Thing?

  With Maya and Amelie playing quite happily, and Luke working like a man on a mission, I sit down at the PC. Who is Aiden Cruise? How does he manage to get himself out of every scrape and still keep the public on his side? I genuinely believe that’s the question the publishers are expecting me to answer. I guess this guy must either be very lucky indeed or have a guardian angel watching over him.

  Then it hits me, like a light bulb being switched on in a darkened room. My contact with Aiden has been patchy and unpredictable. One moment he’s supposed to be available, then he’s not. Then I get a call and he’s there, so no matter how inconvenient it’s been I’ve had to drop everything. I get him to answer as many questions as I can fire at him before he says he has to be somewhere else. The only constant throughout the entire process so far has been Seth Greenburg. He’s an old-school gentleman, very professional and although he doesn’t make excuses for Aiden, he’s constantly smoothing the way. He makes Aiden look a lot less erratic than he actually is and he does that with great skill.

  I dive into the growing box of information, interview sheets and photos I’ve pulled together over the last three months. Some of this stuff is pretty damning and I realise there’s hardly anything about Seth. Okay, let’s see what the Internet has to throw up. As I type in his name and press return, I’m rather shocked to discover that Seth hasn’t always been a manager, but his background is in stage and theatre. He was a producer for many years and it looks as though he worked with some of the top names. His career extends back quite a way. I’m intrigued as to why he decided to step into the role of the infamous Aiden Cruise’s manager. There’s an article here announcing his appointment, shortly after Aiden had been arrested following yet another late-night bar brawl. The charges were dropped within twenty-four hours of Seth’s appointment. Coincidence?

  I pull up my timeline chart on the screen, mapping some of the high and low points of Aiden’s career. From the number-one hits to the clashes with photographers, and several fracas that made the headlines but never re
sulted in charges. But a pattern is emerging that since Seth appeared on the scene suddenly there is a lot more positive press and a lot less of the negative. It’s unlikely that Aiden has been increasingly lucky dodging the repercussions of his actions, as he’s still known at times for his cavalier attitude. Clearly that has also, in the past, made him a target. But it’s beginning to look as if he’s calming down, becoming much more conscious of his public image. Or is it simply due to the fact that he has someone looking after him who is very skilled at making bad news go away?

  Seth has personally handled all of the arrangements for my New Year’s Eve trip to meet Aiden. He has ensured that everything is taken care of from the moment the car picks me up until the moment it drops me back home in the early hours of New Year’s Day. Like a magician, he smoothed away my concerns, even though I hesitated because I didn’t want to leave Maya. But at no point has he left me feeling that I’ve been put out simply to accommodate Aiden. Am I, too, being managed, manipulated to ensure that what’s included in the book is controlled? All I have is hearsay and the hard facts are the ones Aiden and Seth choose to present to me.

  My head starts to ache as I realise that I’m going to have to be on my guard from here on in. The publishers are paying for my services and my brief is to get to the heart of what makes Aiden Cruise the bad boy everyone is prepared to forgive. He’s being paid an enormous amount of money for his side of the story. I’m the person who has to marry the two halves – what other people have to say about him and what the man himself chooses to tell me.

  Maya’s face appears in view and I yank out the ear pieces of my iPod.

  ‘It’s lunchtime, Mum. Can we have a picnic in my bedroom?’

  Maya and Amelie are both staring intently at me. I turn the PC into sleep mode and urge them back upstairs. ‘Of course. Give me five minutes and I’ll bring it up. You haven’t been getting in Luke’s way, now, have you?’

 

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