But she was sure going to miss him when he went back to Canada for Christmas.
Edward had finally managed to take his hands off Kathy for long enough for them head out for a Sunday roast at the local pub.
‘I’m famished,’ said Kathy, attacking her roast beef with gusto.
‘Must be all the exercise,’ he told her with a wide grin.
Edward watched her cheeks redden but she was smiling. She was beautiful when she smiled. He knew this was it for him. He couldn’t love anybody else as much as Kathy. The past twenty-four hours had been a revelation and he was hooked for life. People said food was an addiction but as far as he was concerned, Kathy was his drug of choice from now onwards.
‘No pudding though,’ Kathy said.
‘Nope. We’ve only got a stone and a bit to go.’
‘I want to look good for Violet’s wedding.’
He put down his knife and reached out for her hand across the table. ‘You always look good,’ he told her.
She smiled back at him and he knew she had been worth waiting for.
Kathy was a class act. And he was determined to ensure that she knew it too.
Chapter Forty-nine
‘WAR IS OVER,’ sang John Lennon over the shop speakers. Not in December it’s not, thought Violet as she got bumped and shoved from all directions. The shops were packed with workers desperately trying to get their Christmas shopping done in their lunch hours.
It was a hideous time of year to try to organise a wedding. Sebastian’s mother had suddenly become overwrought with the wedding plans and had decided to hand over the organisation to Violet.
‘After all, dear,’ she had said at the weekend, ‘it is your wedding.’
Nice of you to remember, Violet had been close to saying. But she hadn’t. She’d kept quiet, becoming ever more cross with herself.
Now she had some huge wedding extravaganza to co-ordinate, as well as the normal Christmas mayhem. She was becoming increasingly snappy, especially with Sebastian who wasn’t putting in any effort to either Christmas or the wedding.
‘What have you thought to buy my parents for Christmas?’ he had asked that morning.
‘No idea,’ she had replied, slipping on her new winter coat.
‘You’ll have to get a move on. Time’s running out.’
‘Well, here’s a plan,’ she had snapped back. ‘Why don’t you think of something and buy it yourself? You’re quite capable. Besides, I’ve got far too much to do. Unless you want to make two hundred sodding wedding favours instead?’
He had marched out of the front door, slamming it behind him. Violet knew she would have to apologise later but it would have been nice for him to make a bit of an effort for once.
On top of everything, they appeared to have invited most of Sebastian’s family for Christmas dinner and, to add insult to injury, Sebastian had banged on about the Christmas cake and how she’d left it too late. But Violet wasn’t planning on baking a heavy fruit cake. She didn’t like it and why should she have to make something she wasn’t even going to eat?
She made her way out of the crowded shop and found the pavements equally packed. Needing refuge, she made her way up the small alleyway to Gino’s delicatessen. But the queue was snaking out of the shop and down the street. Violet decided to head back there after work.
Back at her desk, she found Wendy was also having a nervous breakdown over Christmas.
‘I can’t believe Steven thought it was a good idea to have his whole family over,’ she ranted. ‘Doesn’t he remember that we have a baby and a toddler to try and take care of?’
‘Three wise men,’ grunted Julie. ‘Hard pushed to find one.’
Violet found herself nodding in agreement.
At five o’clock, Violet put on her coat and was set to go.
‘Hot date?’ asked Mark, coming out of his office. He was wearing his coat as well. ‘I’ll walk out with you.’
Violet picked up her lunchtime purchases and walked to the lift with him.
‘Christmas presents?’ he asked, nodding at the bags.
Violet nodded.
‘It’s a mad time of year. What are you hoping Father Christmas brings you this year?’
Violet didn’t know what to say. She never got what she wanted so she never bothered asking for anything.
Seeing her face, Mark quickly added, ‘Not that I’d want him in my house. He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. Sounds like a stalker to me.’
Violet smiled as the lift doors pinged open. They walked through the reception, said their goodnights and then headed exactly the same way.
‘Perhaps you’re the stalker,’ said Mark, raising his eyebrows at her.
Violet shook her head. ‘I just need to get one last thing in town.’
‘Where are you headed?’
She blushed. ‘The delicatessen.’
‘Me too,’ he told her. ‘We can walk together.’
Violet’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.
‘But you won’t find it open,’ he added. ‘It’s the eighth of December so it’s early closing.’
Violet frowned. Was it someone’s birthday?
‘The Day of the Immacolata,’ Mark told her. ‘It’s the day when Italians put up their Christmas trees and then go to a nativity service in church.’
Violet stopped walking. ‘I can always pop back tomorrow.’
Mark took her elbow and steered her forward once more. ‘Nonna will kill me if you don’t come. It’ll be my chestnuts roasting on an open fire if she gets wind of it.’
Violet giggled and they walked on towards the delicatessen.
‘You should laugh more,’ he told her. ‘It’s a nice sound.’
Violet immediately stopped. Luckily they were at the alleyway. She took a deep intake of breath. The shop was now lit up with cream fairy lights, making it appear magical.
‘How lovely,’ said Violet as Mark pushed the door open.
‘Buonasera!’ he called as he went in.
The shop appeared to be full of customers. But Mark told her that everyone inside was family or friends.
Violet was quickly met by Nonna who had pushed through the crowd upon seeing them.
‘Buonasera, Viola,’ she said, kissing her on both cheeks.
Nonna had begun to say her name in Italian. She secretly quite liked it.
‘Buonasera,’ replied Violet.
Nonna turned to the crowd and called out Violet’s name and everyone greeted her in Italian. Then they went back to their conversations, of which Violet hoped she wasn’t the topic.
Nonna rattled off a couple of quick sentences which Violet didn’t quite catch.
Mark translated. ‘She says she’s glad you came to help with il ceppo. Looks like you’re helping with the tree,’ he told her. ‘I’d better take your coat.’
So Violet shrugged off her winter coat and went to help Nonna. It turned out il ceppo was the ‘tree of light’ that Italians put up in their homes at Christmas. It was a wooden frame several feet high, designed in a pyramid shape. On each shelf, Violet helped Nonna to place some gilt pine cones, small decorations, sweets and candles.
But one shelf remained empty.
‘Il presepe,’ Nonna told her, before disappearing into the back room.
She returned with a beautiful nativity scene in her hands. All the children oohed and aahed.
‘That’s been in my family for generations,’ Mark told Violet.
‘It’s lovely,’ said Violet as they watched Nonna carefully place it on the shelf.
Mark handed over a packet of candles to Violet. ‘As guest of honour, you can light the candles on il ceppo.’
So Violet found herself striking a match and carefully lighting each of the many candles on the shelves. She stood back to look at the pretty scene.
‘Bello,’ she told Nonna who had come to stand next to her. Beautiful, she had told her.
‘Va bene,’ Nonna replie
d, patting her on the arm. ‘Prosecco, Marco!’
‘Sì,’ said Mark, and went off to find a bottle.
They spent the next few hours sipping their wine and chatting. Or in Violet’s case, listening and watching. There were whole generations sitting around, the noise of their chatter and laughter filling the store. It was a lovely, bubbly sound. A happy sound.
Eventually, and with a heavy heart, Violet knew she had to leave. But before she left, Nonna presented her with a panettone cake, beautifully wrapped in silver paper with a gorgeous red velvet ribbon.
It was exactly what Violet had wanted to purchase at lunchtime: a dome-shaped dessert bread laced with candied fruits and raisins. It was just what she wanted to replace the heavy Christmas cake with. But this was a gift and no money was to be exchanged, she realised.
‘Buonanotte, Viola,’ said Nonna, before giving her a hug.
‘Buonanotte,’ replied Violet, suddenly finding a lump in her throat.
Mark had offered to walk her back to her car. Violet didn’t think it necessary but Mark and Nonna were very persuasive.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Mark.
A small tear ran down Violet’s cheek. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘You must think I’m an idiot. It’s just been a really long time since I’ve felt part of a big family occasion like that. Thanks for taking me.’
‘You’re welcome. Haven’t you got any family?’
‘My parents died when I was twelve,’ she told him. ‘It’s been pretty lonely since.’
‘What about your fiancé’s family?’
Violet pulled a face before she could stop herself.
Mark gave a short laugh.
They carried on walking in a comfortable silence for a while before he spoke.
‘They’re talking about snow over Christmas,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you’ll have a white wedding.’
Violet didn’t reply.
‘Are you happy, Violet?’ he suddenly asked.
‘Why does it matter to you?’ she found herself replying, testing him.
‘I’m your boss,’ he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
‘Don’t worry,’ she snapped back. ‘I’ll always be here to answer your precious hotline.’
And she ran away into the darkness, leaving him far behind.
Chapter Fifty
‘I CAN’T BELIEVE it’s the last weigh-in before Christmas,’ said Kathy, glancing over at Trudie before breaking into a wicked smile.
As usual, it wasn’t returned.
‘I just wish it was the last time we were going to see her this year,’ said Edward, following her gaze.
‘Violet had to invite her to the wedding,’ said Maggie, whispering to them both.
‘She wasn’t given much choice,’ said Kathy. ‘Trudie pretty much invited herself along.’
‘At least she’s not coming to the hen night,’ said Maggie, grinning.
They all looked across at Violet, who was attempting a smile that nobody believed.
‘Lucy’s coming home on Friday,’ said Maggie. ‘Said she can’t wait for the girls’ night out. And she’ll see you at the wedding,’ she added to Edward.
‘Any mention of the boyfriend?’ asked Kathy.
‘Only to say that he was flying home to Canada on Thursday evening.’
‘Do you think she’ll be upset?’ asked Edward.
‘She says not but I don’t believe a word of it,’ said Maggie. ‘But she’s keeping busy.’
In particular, Lucy was busy converting Maggie’s favourite red dancing dress into a skirt. Maggie had finally admitted that she wouldn’t be able to fit into it. Her body had changed with the years and childbirth. That much she couldn’t do anything about. But she had a lovely red camisole top to go with her adapted skirt. Lucy had added a new waistband and Maggie had tried it on and spun round and round, the skirt glittering in the winter sunlight. She couldn’t wait to surprise Gordon with it in New York.
‘Talking of flying, at least I’ll be able to fit into an airplane seat now.’
Maggie beamed at them. She was running every day before work, rediscovering her marriage, her hipbones and her husband.
‘You’re doing great,’ said Edward.
‘So are you,’ Kathy told him, squeezing his arm.
Edward had visited the doctor that week for a check-up on his angina. The doctor had been amazed at his rapid weight loss and had announced him fully fit. No more beta-blockers for his heart. His cholesterol and blood-pressure levels were now perfect for his age. Edward certainly felt great, especially as he was spending nearly all his time with the beautiful woman who was next to him.
‘And I’m only eleven stone now,’ said Kathy, also grinning. ‘Hopefully with a pound or two off tonight.’
‘My clever girl,’ said Edward, his voice soft with love.
‘I’ve joined his gym,’ she told Maggie.
Kathy preferred the swimming pool to the gym equipment but they had already had a ferocious game of badminton.
‘That’s great,’ said Maggie.
Violet, she presumed, must have also guessed about Kathy and Edward. She glanced across but Violet seemed to have retreated back into her shell.
‘We got a lovely Christmas tree from that garden centre at the bottom of my road,’ said Kathy.
Maggie noted how quickly Kathy had become a ‘we’. They certainly looked very happy.
‘One of those non-drop ones.’
‘I told her, I don’t think they exist,’ said Edward with a smile.
Apart from Edward, their Christmas tree was Kathy’s favourite thing at the minute. Each night after dinner, they would snuggle up, looking at the lights and candles twinkling. She was so happy she thought she would self-combust.
All year she had been dreading the first Christmas without her mum. But Edward had suggested paying the grave a visit on Christmas Eve, which was a nice idea. They were going to his mum’s on Christmas Day for a big family get-together which Kathy was a little nervous about, but Edward kept reassuring her it would be fine. And she felt that, with him beside her, she could do anything.
‘Shall we get on with it?’ snapped Trudie from the far corner of the hall. She seemed even more scary than usual.
Violet sighed and stood up, wanting to get the weigh-in over with. The others watched as she stood up on the scales and then off again, once it had registered the weight.
‘Ten stone exactly,’ said Trudie, staring at her.
The others looked at each other before leaping up and running over to Violet.
‘That’s your goal weight,’ said Kathy.
‘You’ve done it,’ said Maggie, giving Violet a big hug.
‘Well done,’ said Edward. ‘How does it feel?’
Violet smiled, though Kathy noticed it didn’t reach her eyes.
‘Never thought I’d do it, to be honest,’ she told them.
‘You were always going to make it,’ said Maggie. ‘You’ve been so dedicated. I bet it’s been great to have the wedding as a big goal to aim for.’
Violet nodded. ‘I suppose.’
‘But you’ll keep your weight down after the wedding, won’t you?’ asked Kathy, suddenly nervous that they might all put the weight back on.
‘Oh yes,’ said Violet. ‘I won’t go back to comfort eating.’
‘And it’s all thanks to New You!’ said Trudie.
They others glanced at each other but didn’t reply.
Later on, as Violet drove home, she thought that she had never felt so unhappy. Everything in her life felt wrong.
She wished she’d never lost any weight at all.
Chapter Fifty-one
‘YOU LOOK GREAT!’ said Maggie, as Violet opened the front door to the girls on Saturday night.
‘Thanks,’ she told them and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
Violet had been unsure what to wear for her own hen night so had eventually settled for a pale pink, lace-trimmed camisole, black short skirt and killer hee
ls.
It was quite a radical look for her but Sebastian wouldn’t see it, as he had headed to Amsterdam early on Friday morning for his stag night. He would be back on Sunday lunchtime, hungover but hopefully not missing any eyebrows.
‘Sexy lady,’ cooed Lucy as they all got into the taxi.
Lucy was trying to mask how much she was really missing Todd. Should she text him? Or would that seem too desperate when he had only left the previous day?
Violet tugged down the skirt as she sat down, wishing she had worn a pair of safe black trousers.
‘I can’t believe you’ve got to goal and I missed it,’ carried on Lucy.
Violet nodded and smiled. She really ought to have made an effort to try and enjoy herself, but being the centre of attention had never been her ideal scenario. At least the girls seemed to have avoided the normal hen night trappings, for which she was grateful. Everyone was dressed for a night out on the town, nothing tacky at all.
They got out of the taxi, which had pulled up outside of a busy restaurant in town. The place had been booked by Julie and Wendy, who were meeting them there with a few other girls who were just along for the ride.
It was an Italian restaurant that served great pizzas and pastas relatively cheaply. Violet sighed as she realised that was where they were going. Why did everything seem to come back to Italy?
Maggie told the waiter Violet’s name and they were led to the back of the restaurant where a long table had been set up with balloons.
‘Hello!’ cried Wendy, sitting next to Julie.
They were both wearing pink cowboy hats. Every spare setting at the table was also festooned with a pink hat.
‘Excellent,’ said Lucy, grabbing a hat.
She shrugged off her black aviator jacket to reveal a white vest, to which she had added some black sequins, and skinny black trousers. She put on her hat and grinned. Lucy looked young, funky and radiant.
Maggie and Kathy exchanged a grimace but said nothing as they sat down at the table and put on their hats. They also silently noted the confetti made of hundreds of silver, sparkly willies that was scattered across the table. Plus the willy straws that were placed next to the wine glasses. So much for being a tackiness-free zone that evening.
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