Daisy looked shocked. ‘I’m not that bad. I don’t mind other people enjoying it. All I’m saying is I don’t get it. Are you going to tell me you dress up as chief elf and carry Santa’s sack?’
Max raised his eyebrows at the double entendre but gallantly let it go as Daisy was already colouring up. ‘No, I’m not a dressing-up kinda guy. But I like my full turkey dinner, preferably home cooked.’
‘You cook?’ Daisy didn’t mean to splutter the words out but she’d been caught off guard.
‘I wish I could cook a full roast but spaghetti bolognaise is the peak of my abilities. I usually go to the Mariner’s; Monty’s wife does a cracking Christmas lunch.’
‘People make such a fuss about it. It’s just a roast dinner, it’s no biggy. But then they go and spoil it by insisting on Brussels sprouts and I don’t believe they’re anyone’s favourite vegetable.’
‘Reg liked them.’ Max started to stack more glasses, making sure they were all neatly in line.
Daisy scanned her memories; she couldn’t find much about Christmas in Ottercombe Bay – she’d been seven the last time she’d spent the festive season here. It was still odd that Max sometimes knew more about her family than she did. ‘What do you do after lunch on Christmas Day?’
‘I like to crash out with a few beers and a crap movie.’
‘Now the crap movie I totally get. That is something we can agree on.’ Which is rare these days, thought Daisy.
‘I think there’s too much pressure on people to spend loads of cash.’
‘Totally agree,’ nodded Daisy. ‘All the adverts tell you you should be buying diamonds and—’
‘New sofas and tellies.’
‘Exactly. When the poinsettias they’re selling at the supermarket for ninety-nine pence would be fine.’
Max laughed. ‘You cheapskate.’
‘Hey. They’re great, no one has to know how much they are. It’s the thought that counts.’ She’d already decided to get one for Tamsyn’s mum and dad, Old Man Burgess and Aunt Coral although she needed to buy her something else too, she was staying in her home rent free and she had stumped up a sizeable sum to get Locos off the ground. Daisy was having a think when she noticed Max was staring at her. ‘What?’ There was only a faint hint of irritation in her voice.
He gave a short smile. ‘Nothing,’ he said, turning back to focus on restocking the mixers. Daisy turned away, at least this was better than fighting all the time but it didn’t mean he was forgiven.
Chapter Seven
Daisy was tired when she got in on Christmas Eve and presented Aunt Coral with her poinsettia. She figured it was safest to hand it over now, she didn’t have a good track record with plants. Aunt Coral gave an odd grimace of a smile. ‘It’s lovely, thank you,’ she said, taking it to the kitchen. Daisy followed and watched her remove it from the decorative wrapping, give it some water and place it on the windowsill next to two other identical plants.
‘Oh,’ said Daisy.
Aunt Coral was quick to reassure her. ‘It’s fine, I really like them. They must be the trendy gift this year: I had one from Mrs Brightling for taking her shopping and one from work. Once they’ve soaked up some water I’ll spread them about the house. Now, would you like a glass of sherry?’
Daisy tore her eyes away from the trio of red plants and wished she hadn’t been such a cheapskate. ‘Yeah, go on then.’
Aunt Coral handed her a glass. ‘Come and look at this,’ Coral said, excitedly. Daisy followed her into the living room, trying to take a sip as she went, which didn’t work. It became obvious what Daisy had been brought to look at. Where there had once been a small dark sofa and a chair there was now a huge pale cream sofa and two matching chairs and with the giant Christmas tree there wasn’t a lot of room for much else. The sofas reminded Daisy of giant mutant marshmallows.
‘What do you think?’ prompted Aunt Coral tilting her head at the mountainous furniture.
Daisy bent forward and Aunt Coral whisked her sherry glass away, the proximity of it to the masses of pale fabric was likely putting her on edge. Daisy sat down and felt as if she was being swallowed by the sofa. At first it was alarming but she quickly relaxed into it. ‘Wow, this is seriously comfy.’
‘I know,’ said Aunt Coral grinning. ‘I’ve wanted them for ages and now I can afford it. We just need to keep them this colour.’
Daisy gave a doubtful nod. With Bug in the house they didn’t stand a chance.
Christmas morning dawned and Daisy was woken by someone opening presents on her bed. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and sat up to see Bug’s bottom wriggling about enthusiastically with the rest of him inside a large Christmas stocking. When he reversed out he had a mouthful of ripped wrapping paper. It was early and Daisy was confused by what was going on. She was pretty sure she hadn’t gone back in time to her childhood so it was very odd to find a stocking perched on the end of her bed.
She shooed Bug away and with a disgruntled snort he jumped to the floor and swaggered out. ‘And a merry Christmas to you too,’ she called after him. Daisy reached forward and dragged the stocking towards her. There was a pretty tag attached to it and in swirly gold writing it read ‘Love From Father Christmas’. Daisy laughed out loud at the peculiarity of it but she tipped out the presents all the same.
After a frenzied few minutes ripping open the paper like a small child she sat and surveyed her haul. There was an accounting book, which was a very useful gift. There was a small make-up bag containing a lip balm and something claiming to be lip scrub, which Daisy wasn’t too sure about but she’d give it a go anyway. There was the dinkiest set of mini nail varnishes in pretty colours, lots of white chocolate, which was her absolute favourite, and a new case for her mobile phone. But this wasn’t just any old case – when she turned it over she saw the back was emblazoned with a photograph of Locos. Aunt Coral must have taken it on the sly, thought Daisy, examining the impressive result.
A tentative tap on her open door made her look up. Aunt Coral was hovering with two mugs of tea.
‘Happy Christmas, love,’ she said, coming in and placing the mugs on the bedside cabinet. ‘I see Father Christmas has been,’ she added, with a wink.
‘You are officially bonkers,’ said Daisy, reaching up and giving her aunt a tight embrace.
‘Oh, it’s just a bit of fun. I bought a pre-filled stocking for Bugsy, then Min said she always does one for Tamsyn and I wouldn’t want you missing out.’
‘It’s really kind of you and these are fab presents. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘I didn’t get you much,’ said Daisy, feeling embarrassed at the dull jumper waiting under the tree for her aunt. If she’d realised about the stocking perhaps she could have done something similar but what she would have put in it she had no idea. Support tights and Nivea face cream sprang to mind and she blinked to try to banish the thought.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Aunt Coral patted her hand affectionately. ‘It’s just lovely to have you here. Christmas is a time for families.’ Daisy brightened – perhaps today was going to be okay after all. ‘Right, we’d better get a wiggle on, we need to be on the beach in forty minutes,’ Aunt Coral added rising quickly to her feet.
‘Why?’ Daisy pulled up the covers, she hadn’t planned on getting up yet.
‘Christmas Day charity swim,’ said Aunt Coral, as Daisy’s eyebrows jumped. ‘It’s traditional. Come on, snap to it.’ Daisy’s eyebrows remained where they were.
Daisy was relieved to discover she wasn’t actually required to go swimming. She and Aunt Coral were on the beach to cheer the swimmers on, along with a surprisingly large crowd of people. Aunt Coral was filling paper cups with mulled wine from a large flask and as ten thirty approached people Daisy had assumed were also watchers started to strip off their layers to reveal swimming costumes. There were also quite a few people dressed up – three Father Christmases, a nun, a man in a large pink tutu and plenty of people in Santa hats.
But the most worrying was the man who whipped off his large coat to reveal a lime green mankini. Daisy turned away only to come face to face with a gorilla. She stepped back in alarm. The person in the gorilla suit started making monkey noises and banging its chest. ‘Very good,’ said Daisy, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster on a cold December morning and hoped that would be enough to make the idiot go away.
‘Isn’t it exciting?’ asked Aunt Coral, hugging her cup of mulled wine as the steam swirled off the surface.
‘Oh yeah,’ said Daisy. In her mind it was total and utter madness. She was sure she’d read about someone dying doing this the other year and was trying to recall the details when someone pinched her bum. She shot around to see the gorilla lolloping away. Great, she thought, an idiot and a pervert.
A man walked down to the water shouting something about the swimmers gathering around and a large portion of the crowd followed him to the shore. Daisy had a better view now of the swimmers. She searched the crowd for faces she knew but there were only a few, alarmingly Old Man Burgess was one of them. While she was pondering the health risks once again someone pinched her bum. A flash of temper swept through her and this time the gorilla was going to get a piece of her mind. Daisy swung around quickly grabbing the gorilla by the arm and pulling him back sharply, making him land with a thump on the sand.
‘Hey!’ came the plaintive cry in a voice she recognised. The gorilla pulled off its mask. ‘That was a bit rough,’ said Tamsyn, looking disgruntled. ‘It was only a bit of fun.’
‘Sorry, I thought it was some pervert.’ Daisy offered Tamsyn a hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘Great costume by the way. I take it you’re not swimming in it though?’
‘Er, yeah of course I am. It’s cold in there you know.’ Tamsyn jogged ape style down the beach to join the others, putting her mask back on as she went.
Daisy looked about for lifeguards and spotted a bored- looking Max hugging a bright orange torpedo buoy and chatting to an equally bored-looking St John Ambulance cadet. Despite the cold, Max was wearing a jacket and shorts and she didn’t rush to drag her eyes away from his muscular legs. Without warning, someone in full wetsuit, mask, snorkel and flippers loomed in front of her making her take a step back, narrowly missing Aunt Coral’s toes.
‘Sorry,’ came the muffled reply through the snorkel.
‘Jason?’ Daisy peered closer.
‘Can’t stop, took me ages to squeeze into this. I think I may have put on a little weight since last year.’ He shuffled awkwardly to the shore where everyone was forming an orderly line.
‘Remember once around the outside of the red buoy and first one over the line wins,’ shouted the loud man.
‘What line?’ Daisy asked Aunt Coral.
‘They hold up a bit of ribbon once they are nearly at the shore.’
‘Right,’ said Daisy, catching another glimpse of Max who had wandered down to the water’s edge as if to show willing.
‘Three, two, one. Go!’ This was accompanied by a loud hooter, which made Daisy jump, and all the swimmers raced into the sea. The serious ones were recognisable in their immediate desire to get swimming whereas a lady in a giraffe onesie and Tamsyn were still only ankle deep. Jason tried to wade in but the tightness of his wetsuit was restricting movement and he fell into the water with a huge splash and automatically started doing the breaststroke despite only being in about two feet of water.
Daisy started to laugh; this was actually quite good fun. The crowd of watchers were cheering everyone on and they got particularly excited when the leader reached the red buoy. Tamsyn on the other hand was still at the wading stage albeit up to her shoulders. As she started to swim a flaw in her plan quickly became apparent. The gorilla suit was quite heavy and the addition of water meant Tamsyn was barely able to keep her head out of the water and lifting her arms out appeared to be an impossibility. Daisy watched the gorilla slowly start to sink. Instinctively Daisy started to run forward but Max was already diving into the water and swimming efficiently to Tamsyn’s rescue. Daisy stopped at the water’s edge, it was going to be freezing in there and Max looked like he had it covered. No point getting cold and wet for no good reason.
The crowd cheered as Max grasped Tamsyn but she didn’t sound as pleased. ‘Get off, Max. I’m fine,’ she shouted from behind the mask.
‘You’re struggling,’ said Max, towing her back to shore.
‘No, I’m not,’ insisted Tamsyn, but her protests were drowned out as the other swimmers raced for the finish with a lanky teen just pipping the early leader to the soggy ribbon finish line. The crowd clapped and then immediately dispersed; some went to congratulate the winner, others produced towels to wrap around loved ones as they emerged and the rest headed off home.
Daisy watched Max unceremoniously drag Tamsyn into the shallows. She clambered to her feet, tugged off her mask and trudged over. She was a bedraggled and forlorn sight like a giant wet dog.
‘Poor you,’ said Daisy. ‘At least you tried. You need to get out of this soggy costume. Have you got a towel?’ Daisy scanned the beach and saw a pile of towels nearby.
‘Minnie Mouse one,’ said Tamsyn, miserably and Daisy dutifully fetched it. When she returned the last of the back markers were wading to shore. It was good to see Old Man Burgess emerge unscathed. Jason, however, was lying in the shallows with waves breaking over him like a beached whale albeit an undernourished one. Daisy helped Tamsyn out of the costume while a few people helped Jason onto his flippers.
‘What did this cost you?’ asked Daisy, wringing out a sleeve of the gorilla costume.
‘Only twenty-five pounds plus a deposit but they explained I get that back.’
Daisy held up the sopping costume. ‘I’m not sure you will.’
After damp hugs and lots of Happy Christmases, Daisy and Aunt Coral walked back up the beach. Daisy was feeling chilly, she couldn’t imagine how cold the swimmers were. She clapped her hands together to warm them up. ‘That was fun but I’m ready for turkey now.’
Aunt Coral linked arms with Daisy. ‘With that in mind I’ve invited a couple of people for dinner,’ she said, giving her arm a squeeze. ‘I won’t see anyone on their own at Christmas.’
‘Who?’
‘You’ll see,’ said Aunt Coral, tapping her nose and Daisy smiled at the gesture. She remembered her aunt doing this when she was a child. She suspected it would be a couple of the local elderly.
After they’d returned to the warmth of the cottage, opened their other presents and Aunt Coral had made suitably appreciative noises over the gift voucher as well as the jumper they were soon in the kitchen concentrating on the final run down to Christmas dinner. Appropriately cheesy Christmas songs blared out of the radio. Daisy felt quite cheerful. The table was set and looked festive with a poinsettia theme, bright red crackers, two bottles of Châteauneuf-du-Pape and four balloon glasses hastily borrowed from Locos.
There was a knock at the door and Aunt Coral sprang away from the Brussels sprouts, whipped off her apron and started to fuss with her hair, which made Daisy notice for the first time that she had done her hair especially nice today and was wearing a dress Daisy hadn’t seen before that flattered her fuller figure. Daisy paused and checked over her own outfit of jeans and panda sweatshirt. She shrugged to herself: she’d do. She could hear jovial voices carrying through from the hallway as festive pleasantries were no doubt exchanged. She got ready to greet whoever was joining them.
‘Merry Christmas, Daisy,’ said an over-enthusiastic Pasco as he barrelled into the kitchen and pulled her into a warm hug making her slop the gravy over the side of the saucepan.
Daisy opened her mouth to answer but most likely the expression on her face was communicating her murderous thoughts accurately. She looked past Pasco to Aunt Coral who was pulling a ‘be nice’ face. This was stretching Daisy’s charitable side to the limit. Despite the anger bubbling inside her she pulled herself together – after all it was Christmas Day.
‘Merry Christmas, Pasco, this is a surprise.’ At least she was being honest. Why on earth would Aunt Coral invite the local felon to share Christmas dinner with them?
‘Look Daisy, about me sleeping—’
‘No, no, it’s forgotten,’ she said, emphasising her point with an overly cheesy grin. Obviously it wasn’t forgotten at all but what could she do?
A knock at the door had Aunt Coral scuttling off leaving Pasco and Daisy to exchange awkward looks.
They both waited to see who the last guest was. Aunt Coral appeared first. ‘We’re all here, let me sort the drinks.’ She stepped aside to reveal a reluctant-looking Max hovering in the hallway hugging a poinsettia plant. He looked more shocked than Daisy had to see Pasco and that gave her an odd sense of satisfaction.
‘Oh, a poinsettia, how lovely,’ said Daisy, taking it from him and doing what she’d seen Aunt Coral do the night before. Cheapskate, she thought.
Chapter Eight
Dinner was an odd affair with Daisy and Max avoiding eye contact and Aunt Coral and Pasco appearing to do the opposite. There was a familiarity between Pasco and her aunt, which Daisy wasn’t expecting. When they retired to the living room with refilled wine glasses Aunt Coral and Pasco took to the new armchairs leaving Max and Daisy to share the sofa. Daisy decided to do a little probing.
‘How long have you two known each other?’ she asked, taking a sip of her red wine but keeping her focus on their responses. They seemed to instinctively look at each other before either ventured an answer.
‘Since secondary school?’ offered Pasco.
‘Junior school,’ scolded Aunt Coral. ‘You joined at the end of the last summer term.’
‘Yes. We’d moved up from Paignton. I can remember you like it was yesterday.’ He was looking at Aunt Coral fondly and then seemed to snap out of it. ‘Did you know she used to have bunches with great big bows on?’
‘No,’ said Daisy, with a snigger. It conjured up an odd sight. ‘I bet you were quite something.’ It was difficult to find the right words when you had a weird picture of your fifty-something aunt in bunches.
Ottercombe Bay – Part Three Page 7