One Family Christmas: The perfect, cosy, heart-warming read to curl up with this winter

by Bella Osborne

  ‘And what might they be? The things that are going on.’ Emily loved a bit of gossip.

  ‘They are like all families. They love each other but they don’t always show it.’ Dayea let out a giggle. ‘Rose would say they are like a good cake – sweet, full of zest, and with plenty of nuts.’

  Lottie had spent the next hour preparing the Christmas Eve meal, which had helped to take her mind off Nana’s card for now. She rang the hand bell, a boot sale find from years ago. It was far less grand than it sounded, but came in useful in a sprawling house where shouting rarely worked. She started ferrying food to the large dining table as she heard doors opening upstairs and people approaching.

  Dayea had fixed Bernard something earlier so whilst he was taking a nap in the drawing room everyone else took a seat at the table and eyed the spread with interest. Zach unscrewed the wine and started filling glasses. ‘Right. There are fresh rolls,’ said Lottie, as Rhys leaned over and grabbed one, then dropped it because it was red hot, ‘but be careful. They’re straight out of the oven,’ she said pointedly at Rhys, who gave a smirk in response. ‘There’s spaghetti Bolognese. Then cheese, crackers and Nana’s chutney. And sausage rolls and mince pies.’ She pointed to the latter items just in case people weren’t sure, because they were homemade and had come out looking quite odd. She had been too generous with the sausage filling and it had escaped at both ends, plus they were slightly overdone.

  ‘They look like poo,’ said Jessie, covering her giggles with her hands.

  ‘Hey, cheeky,’ said Lottie, ruffling her hair, but the child did have a point. In their defence they had a lovely glaze, so ‘shiny poo’ would have been a more accurate description. ‘Tuck in everyone.’ And on cue, chatter started and arms came at the food from every direction. This was what Nana enjoyed – feeding her rabble of a family.

  ‘I helped make things,’ added Jessie over the chatter and Lottie kissed her head.

  ‘Is there no ham?’ asked Uncle Daniel, scanning the table from end to end.

  ‘It’s in the pressure cooker,’ said Lottie. Daniel looked disappointed and helped himself to a pile of spaghetti.

  ‘Is the Bolognese meat-free?’ asked Angie.

  ‘Er, no,’ said Lottie casually. A penny rolled around her mind and finally dropped. ‘By any chance are you vegetarian, Scott?’ she asked.

  ‘Vegan,’ he said.

  Bum, thought Lottie. She glared at her mother in an attempt to convey her murderous thoughts. ‘Mum, I wish you’d—’

  ‘Reminded you?’ butted in her mother. ‘She often forgets that I’m vegan.’ Everyone glanced in her direction and there was a brief pause in noise levels. Lottie wanted to call her out. Since when had her mother ever been a vegan? Or vegetarian? Or even keen on vegetables for that matter? Her mother appeared to be trying to communicate but her eyebrows weren’t moving. The Botox was still doing its job. Despite this, Lottie got the message: please don’t out me as a committed carnivore.

  ‘Silly me,’ said Lottie, slapping her palm to her forehead. ‘Anyway I’m sure the spaghetti is vegan friendly and I think Nana has some jars of tomato sauce in the cupboard. There’s also bread, cheese and hummus.’ Veggie crisis averted, for now. She’d worry about Christmas dinner later.

  ‘But is it vegan cheese?’ asked her mother, peering at the cheese selection accusingly.

  ‘No … it’s not vegan cheese, but,’ she checked the label on the tub of hummus, ‘the hummus is fine.’ She almost shouted, ‘Hooray for the hummus!’

  ‘I’m looking forward to your mince pies,’ said Angie to Jessie, picking up one of the misshapen delights. Lottie wondered at the speed with which the food was disappearing around her.

  ‘Auntie Lottie made those,’ said Jessie. Angie gave Lottie a pitying look.

  ‘Any suet in them?’ asked Scott. Lottie nodded. ‘Not vegan, Angie,’ he said. Angie tried to look nonchalant but failed.

  Oh well, thought Lottie. ‘Happy Christmas Eve, everyone,’ she said, raising her glass.

  Lottie took her seat opposite Emily and helped herself to some food. She noted that Emily was joining Jessie in having orange juice rather than wine and she wondered if that meant what she thought it did. It was clear she knew Lottie was watching her and she concentrated on her plate.

  ‘Scott, what sort of thing are you into?’ It was Lottie’s thinly veiled attempt to discover if there was anything in the house she could subtly wrap up as a gift for him. Even though it was her mother’s fault for not telling her, she couldn’t bear the thought of Scott realising he wasn’t on the guest list.

  ‘Your mother,’ he said, with a soft look at Angie. Uncle Daniel almost choked on his spaghetti, and embarrassed splutters echoed around the table.

  ‘What’s funny?’ asked Jessie, frowning at the grown-ups.

  Lottie gave up; they were worse than children. ‘Nothing, sweetie, they’re just being silly.’ Lottie glared at Uncle Daniel and he thumped his chest.

  ‘Went down the wrong way,’ he said, smothering another fit of the giggles.

  ‘What do you do for a living, Scott?’ asked Zach, and Lottie silently thanked him for stepping in with her relieved expression.

  ‘Trimmer,’ said Scott and he carried on eating.

  ‘What do you trim?’ asked Zach.

  ‘Someone’s bush?’ asked Daniel and the giggling started up again.

  Scott chuckled, but thankfully seemed to have missed that the joke was on him. ‘I’m a classic car trimmer. I replace interiors in vintage cars.’

  ‘That must be a very skilled job,’ said Lottie, glaring at the worst offenders.

  ‘I don’t know about that, but I do love it. It’s great to have the chance to work on something really old and make it feel new again.’

  Uncle Daniel opened his mouth but the scowl Lottie shot him made him shut it again. ‘You like old cars then?’ asked Lottie.

  ‘Oh, yeah. I like anything really old.’

  That finished Daniel and he burst out laughing. Scott didn’t seem to get the joke. ‘Ignore them,’ said Angie, through pursed lips.

  ‘Lottie, how’s your love life?’ asked Uncle Daniel, once he’d recovered.

  Lottie inwardly sighed but outwardly lifted her head high. ‘All over, thanks. Anthony and I split up.’

  ‘He never listens,’ said Nicola. ‘I told you about this. Anthony was having an affair with a solicitor? Barrister?’ She looked to Lottie for confirmation.

  ‘Barrister,’ Lottie confirmed, ignoring the embarrassed faces around the table as they all tried their hardest not to look at her. She concentrated on her dinner.

  Nicola continued, undeterred. ‘Lottie dumped him and he sacked her. Understandable really. Far too difficult to work together after that.’

  ‘And Lottie has more pride than that. She doesn’t need a man like Anthony. Or any man for that matter. She’s always been someone who can stand up to life on her own,’ said Angie. Lottie blinked at her mother and her rare show of support. Angie gave a brief nod of understanding.

  ‘What are you doing for a job now?’ asked Nicola, turning to Lottie. All eyes followed.

  ‘Nothing at the moment. I’m thinking I might retrain.’ Her marketing degree had taken her firmly down the corporate route and she needed a change. The only positive of splitting up with Anthony was that it had enabled Lottie to spend time with Nana, and as it turned out, that time had been particularly precious, as nobody except Nana knew those would be her last few months. During that time Lottie had relaxed and taken time to reassess a few things. At twenty-seven she had thought herself set on a path; Nana had seen it from a different perspective. She had made Lottie feel that she was young enough to change her mind. That she had plenty of time to strike out in a different direction; to reinvent herself, if that was what she wanted to do. Lottie had decided that it was what she wanted, although sadly Nana had died before they had managed to work out exactly what that different direction might be. And that was the really tricky
bit – her path was as undecided as a butterfly’s.

  ‘When you say retraining, does that mean you’re thinking of going back to uni?’ asked Zach.

  ‘Good idea,’ said Nicola. ‘Because when we sell the house, you’ll need somewhere to live.’ Zach was glaring at her. ‘What? I’m just being practical.’ She buttered her roll diligently.

  ‘A place like this will take ages to sell,’ said Zach, giving his sister a reassuring smile despite the death stares from his mother and uncle.

  ‘I hope so,’ said Lottie. ‘I’m not sure about the practicalities yet – I’ve a few ideas but nothing firm. But talking of uni, how are you getting on, Rhys?’ She was keen to turn the attention away from herself. He was studying Archaeology at Cambridge, as Aunt Nicola liked to drop into conversation at any and every opportunity.

  Rhys seemed to freeze as the spotlight turned on him. ‘Okay, thanks.’ He bit into a sausage roll and that seemed to be the end of that conversation.

  ‘He’s too modest. Aren’t you, Rhys? He’s on for a first. I mean, a first from Cambridge and he’ll have the world at his feet.’

  ‘Mum!’ Rhys appeared to be shrinking with embarrassment.

  ‘You should be proud,’ she said. Nicola took a sip of wine and studied the glass. ‘These are pretty.’ Nobody engaged. ‘Daniel, we need new wine glasses.’

  ‘Why? Did you wear the others out?’ asked Daniel and an amused titter rippled around the room.

  Someone at the front door tugged at the bell pull, and Lottie and Rhys both breathed a sigh of relief. Lottie got up to answer it, but Bernard must have been woken by the bell as he and his speedy wheelchair beat her to it.

  Lottie was pleased to see that it had stopped raining. Standing on the step was the estate agent.

  ‘Hello,’ said Lottie. ‘Did you want to come in?’ It was still bitterly cold outside.

  ‘No, thanks. I’m not stopping. You’re on my way home and I’ve just taken a call so I thought, as it’s Christmas, I’d deliver the good news direct.’

  ‘Good news?’ Those words seemed to her to be in opposition. Lottie was aware of the others joining her and Bernard in the hallway.

  The estate agent straightened his shoulders. ‘We’ve had an offer on the house. Full asking price.’ His eyes shone with glee as he spoke. ‘Cash buyer so there’s no chain. This place will be off your hands in no time.’

  ‘That’s fantastic news,’ said Angie, clapping her hands together.

  ‘No chance of anyone else being interested? An opportunity for a bidding war?’ asked Uncle Daniel and the estate agent twitched a fraction and shook his head. ‘Oh, well.’

  ‘Shall I confirm that you’ve accepted their offer?’ The estate agent was leaning precariously forward in anticipation.

  ‘Yes,’ said Angie and Daniel together.

  Lottie struggled to find her voice. ‘Who’s bought it?’

  ‘I think it’s a company. I’ve only got a contact name. We’ll sort out all the paperwork in the new year and we’ll know a bit more then. Right, I’m off. Merry Christmas.’

  Everyone seemed to be congratulating each other and they moved off to the drawing room. Lottie heard a cork pop and a cheer go up. She didn’t move; she was in shock. Apparently it was the day for shocks. Uncle Bernard buzzed his chair forwards and shut the front door, reversed back and took hold of Lottie’s hand. ‘It’ll be okay, Button. You’ll see. Fresh start for all of us, hey?’

  She dug deep. If Uncle Bernie could be positive when he was facing being homeless at seventy-two, she knew she should be making more of an effort. Although it wasn’t the fact she was going to be homeless that had winded her; it was the thought that this house – Nana’s house – would be lost forever. The one constant thing in her life would be gone.

  Angie put her head into the hallway. ‘Did you say something about making mulled wine?’

  ‘It’s for after the carol service,’ said Lottie, a little snappier than she intended.

  Angie pouted. ‘I’ll have to stick to the Prosecco then.’ Another cork popped behind her. How could they celebrate losing the house?

  ‘Hang on. That’s for tomorrow,’ said Lottie going after her mother. Thank goodness she’d kept some bottles in reserve.

  Angie offered Lottie a glass. ‘Oh, do lighten up, darling.’

  Chapter Eight

  Emily was trying to make herself useful by clearing the dinner table, but she’d reached the point where she didn’t know where things went, and if she started opening cupboard doors she’d look like she was snooping. The dining room was a long room with pelmets and sweeping pale-green drapes at the window. The top half of the walls was covered in a shiny embossed wallpaper, with dark wood panelling to the bottom half, and there was a large redundant fireplace with an ornate gold-framed mirror above, which bounced back the light from the chandelier. Near the door was a beautifully carved clock case; on cue it chimed out six o’clock. It all seemed very grand to Emily.

  She collected up the tablecloth and admired the table top. She’d not seen a table like it before. It had comfortably sat all of them around it in matching dark wood chairs. This place was a revelation to her. Of course she’d seen houses like this before – even checked a few out on the internet, dreaming about what she’d spend a lottery win on – but she’d never been inside one. Zach hadn’t given her any inkling that his family had a place like this. But then why would he? He didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. If he’d said they’d had a mansion she’d have thought he was showing off; or worse still, lying.

  Lottie came in, looking paler than she had before. She looked around at the tidy room. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘You didn’t have to clear away.’

  ‘I wanted to help,’ said Emily, holding the place mats aloft. ‘Where do these go?’

  ‘Sideboard. End cupboard.’ They exchanged hesitant looks.

  ‘It’s a lovely house. I can understand why you don’t want to celebrate it being sold.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Lottie. ‘I just thought I had more time, that’s all. I thought the same with Nana too.’ Lottie gazed out of the window, although Emily wasn’t sure what she was looking at as it was dark outside.

  ‘I wish I’d met her,’ said Emily.

  Lottie turned to look at her. ‘Nana was a force of nature. I honestly thought she was invincible. I know it sounds crazy, but she never acted old and I never considered a time when she’d not be here. I suppose I didn’t want to think about it.’

  ‘Zach said she practically brought you and him up.’

  Lottie bobbed her head. ‘Yeah, I guess she did. We were here on and off for most of our childhood. It’s what’s made this place feel like home.’

  Silence claimed the space between them. Lottie went back to looking out of the window whilst she folded the tablecloth.

  Emily needed to say something because the elephant in the room was so vast its trunk was up the chimney and its bum was hanging out of the window. She pushed the door to. ‘I didn’t know you worked in the shop.’

  ‘I don’t. Well, not really. The shop was going to be sold so some locals set up a community project to save it. We all work an hour or two for free to keep it open for everyone to use.’

  ‘That’s a nice idea,’ said Emily, wondering what to do with her hands. She wasn’t sure how to bring up the tester kit. She knew she’d already said far too much in the shop to be able to pass it off as a purchase for a friend. She straightened her back. ‘Thanks for not saying anything about …’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. It’s okay. It’s none of my business.’

  ‘Wow, you are a nice sister. Mine wouldn’t think that. Any opportunity to stick her beak in my business she’d take it, especially if she could make me look bad or herself look better. Sorry, I’m sure you’re not like that.’ She hated it when her mouth went off without her brain getting on board.

  Lottie smiled. ‘I hope not. I just want Zach to be happy. He’s been through a lot.’

 
‘I know. And I don’t want anything to mess up what we have. This whole missed period thing has taken me by surprise.’ Lottie had such a kind and genuine face that Emily couldn’t help but confide in her.

  Lottie put down the folded tablecloth. ‘Does Zach know?’ She held Emily’s gaze.

  Emily shook her head. ‘I didn’t want to worry him if it’s nothing, and I’ve not had a chance to do the test yet.’ Every time she’d gone in search of a toilet it had either been occupied or Zach had intercepted her, and there were only so many times she could say she was going for a wee before he’d think she had something seriously wrong with her waterworks. The one time she had managed to dash in the loo she’d forgotten her bag – and therefore, the tester.

  Lottie looked surprised. ‘Are you putting it off?’

  ‘I guess,’ admitted Emily.

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Bit scared I guess.’ Although there was some comfort in not knowing. When she didn’t know, she didn’t have any decisions to make or anything to tell anyone – ignorance really was bliss.

  Lottie tipped her head towards the door. ‘No time like the present.’

  Emily ran her bottom lip through her teeth. Perhaps she had put it off long enough.

  ‘Time to decorate the tree!’ hollered Jessie, running in and grabbing their attention. Jessie took Emily by the hand and she saw another opportunity to put off the inevitable for a little while longer.

  Everyone was gathering in the drawing room to decorate the Christmas tree. Other decorations were up and scattered throughout the house, but the tree was always done on Christmas Eve. They formed a human chain and boxes and boxes of decorations were passed down from upstairs until they were all set on the floor in front of the large windows that dominated the main room, along with their lush gold drapes. Uncle Daniel was standing on a chair rearranging the lights and tutting to himself. Zach flicked the switch on the socket. The lights in Daniel’s hand lit up and he nearly fell off with the shock.