‘Sure. Why not?’ And he started chatting to Zach whilst the little dog trotted along happily on his skipping rope.
Chapter Ten
Lottie was pleased to get back into the warm and dry. She pulled off her boots as Rhys met her in the hallway.
‘Hiya Rhys. How did the babysitting go?’
‘Really easy, thanks. Jessie spent most of the time playing with the Christmas tree.’ Lottie’s head shot up in alarm. ‘Chill, it’s fine. She said it was a magic present tree.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘She took herself off to bed not long ago because she wanted to make sure she was asleep before Santa came.’
‘Great. How’s the new house share going at uni?’
‘Oh, you know. A bit messy in places but otherwise fine.’
‘I can’t believe in eighteen months you’ll be graduated and probably working. Imagine that. My little cousin.’ She reached up to ruffle his hair and he dodged out of the way.
‘I’ve got a job already,’ he said, his expression furtive.
‘Oh great, doing what?’ Lottie had been a part-time waitress when she was at university, and although the pay was rubbish, the tips had been pretty good.
‘Car sales,’ he said, with a grin.
‘Blimey. How did you swing that?’
‘Look, don’t say anything to the rents. They don’t know yet.’
‘No, of course I won’t.’ Lottie understood, they’d only worry about whether he was spending enough time studying.
‘Thanks Lottie. You’re sound.’
‘Thanks,’ said Lottie. It was meant to be a compliment, but somehow it made her feel old. Playing to how she felt, she added: ‘Make sure your degree doesn’t suffer. All right?’
She hung up her coat and didn’t pay much attention to Rhys’s slightly confused expression. Her mind was focused on heating up the mulled wine and getting the nibbles into bowls. Angie joined her in the kitchen.
‘So what’s going on with you and little Joe Broomfield?’ asked her mother, pinning her with her gaze.
‘He’s hardly little any more.’
‘Don’t deflect the question.’
‘There’s nothing going on. He left and now he’s back.’
‘Back with you?’ Angie tipped her head forward in question.
‘No. He’s just back.’ Lottie wanted to add that they were just friends, but right now she wasn’t even sure of that.
‘Well, I’m pleased you’re not bothered,’ said Angie. ‘Any chance of a sandwich?’ she asked, opening the fridge and scanning the shelves.
‘I could do you a bacon sandwich.’ She waited for the reaction.
Without hesitation Angie’s face lit up. ‘Marvellous.’
Lottie shut the kitchen door. ‘I knew it. You’d no more turn vegan than wear cheap make-up. What are you up to?’
‘Come on, Lottie. Scott is completely right for me in every way.’ Lottie raised an eyebrow. ‘Apart from him being a committed vegan.’
And half your age, added Lottie in her head. ‘But you lied to him. That’s not a great start to a relationship is it?’ She put the mulled wine on a low heat and started stirring.
‘It’s only a white lie.’
‘There’s no such thing. If he loves you, he won’t care that you like to chow down on a lamb shank.’
‘Shhh,’ hissed Angie, checking over her shoulder. ‘It’s like a religion to him. Come on, I’m starved. Your spaghetti was bloody awful.’
‘Thanks.’ Lottie checked her to-do list. She wasn’t past bartering. ‘If you get the presents off everyone and put them under the tree, I’ll make you a bacon sandwich after we’ve done the mulled wine.’
‘Deal.’
‘And make sure Jessie doesn’t see the presents or you’ll spoil everything.’
‘Of course. I’m not completely heartless,’ called back her mother as she left the kitchen.
Thankfully, Lottie had got the mulled wine ready before they went out, so it only needed heating and pouring into the punch bowl, which was waiting on one of Nana’s best trays alongside a stack of ornately decorated mugs that Nana had brought back from one holiday or another. She took the lid off the saucepan and breathed in the smell; the mix of wine and spices was enticing. She was about to check the temperature when a scratch at the back door distracted her.
She opened the door and the Duchess shot in, but for the second time that day, she wasn’t alone. She was carrying something small and brown in her mouth as she leaped onto the worktop. ‘Duchess!’ shouted Lottie, fearful that the soup disaster was going to be re-enacted with the mulled wine. She cornered the cat next to the large saucepan and scooped her up into her arms. Phew, that was close, thought Lottie. But as she lifted the Duchess up, the cat let out a meow of protest and promptly dropped the mouse into the mulled wine.
‘Eek!’ squealed Lottie and the mouse together. Lottie hastily put down the cat, grabbed a mug from the tray and scooped out the mouse. In two strides she was in the utility with the wine-soaked mouse skidding around the mug as he tried to escape. She tipped him into the mop bucket, put the lid back on and heaved a giant sigh of relief. The Duchess twirled around her legs proudly.
‘Where’s the mulled wine?’ asked Angie, popping her head around the door. ‘I don’t think I can hold them off much longer.’
Lottie would have to sort out the mouse later.
It was almost ten thirty when Lottie entered the drawing room. The family was gathered and Angie was making final adjustments to the pile of presents now crowded around the base of the Christmas tree. It was a perfect picture of Christmas. The Duchess came to have a sniff, in a blatant attempt to identify her gift. Bernard clapped his hands together and Lottie heard the front door open as the walkers arrived back from church. Almost immediately there was the sound of frantic claws on wood and the little dog came hurtling into the room.
‘Hey!’ Joe shouted, somewhat belatedly.
The Duchess instantly puffed up to the size of an overinflated beach ball and took off at high speed across the nearest sofa. The little dog was in hot pursuit, his skipping-rope lead bouncing behind him, now somewhat redundant.
‘Someone grab him!’ called out Lottie.
‘Get the rope!’ shouted Joe, narrowly missing snagging it with his foot as the dog rushed past him.
A frenzied game of chase ensued, until the Duchess careered across the presents and dived up the middle of the Christmas tree. The dog followed, sending presents flying in all directions.
‘My piles,’ complained Angie, surveying the chaos.
‘What’s happening?’ mumbled a sleepy voice from the doorway. Everyone froze. Jessie yawned and rubbed her eyes. They widened in disbelief as she took in the festively wrapped parcels scattered around. ‘He’s been,’ said Jessie, a huge grin spreading across her face as she spotted something in the middle of the presents. ‘My puppy!’ she shouted, and she skidded up to the tree and wrapped the dog in a hug.
The dog seemed to consider whether to continue his tree ascent after the cat, but the draw of a cuddle proved too much and he returned the little girl’s attention with doggy kisses.
‘Oh, no,’ said Zach, leaping in, ‘he’s not for you, Jessie.’ It felt like everyone winced.
Jessie hugged the dog. ‘But he’s with the presents. Santa has delivered him,’ said Jessie, matter-of-factly.
The scene Jessie had walked into would indeed reinforce her belief. ‘Yes, but …’ Zach seemed to be struggling to find a robust answer, ‘sweetheart, he’s not yours.’ Zach’s face was crumpled with the effort of breaking the bad news to his daughter.
The little dog was now snuggled in her arms, although he still had one eye on the cat stuck halfway up the Christmas tree. Jessie looked around at the assembled faces. ‘Did anyone else ask for a puppy for Christmas?’ They all shook their heads. ‘Then he must be mine,’ she said, emphatically.
Zach’s chin hit his chest. ‘Can someone please get me a very large mulled wine?’
&
nbsp; ‘Ah – about the mulled wine—’ started Lottie, as pictures of the mouse doing an Olympic dive into it raced through her thoughts; but she was cut off by the cheer that went up when Angie walked in with the tray. Before she could say any more, Emily and Scott began ladling it into the mugs.
‘Who wants one?’ asked Emily, happily offering out a mug.
‘But …’ Lottie couldn’t find the words as everyone crowded round.
Emily handed Lottie a mug. ‘I thought I’d help.’ Lottie stared at the mulled wine. A few moments ago a small mouse had been doing backstroke in it. ‘Have I offended you?’ Emily looked aghast.
Lottie gave herself a mental shake, Emily was trying to help. ‘No, it’s fine.’ The mouse had only been dipped in it for a nanosecond. ‘And thank you, that was kind.’ Emily’s smile returned and she pressed the mug on her.
Joe joined Jessie and Zach on the floor by the tree. ‘Hiya, I’m Joe. I’m a vet. Do you know what a vet does, Jessie?’
Jessie nodded. ‘You look after sick animals. He’s not sick is he?’ She looked alarmed.
‘No. He’s not sick, but he is lost. I think he might have a family somewhere. Maybe he was a stowaway on Santa’s sleigh.’ Jessie’s mouth made a perfect ‘O’ shape. ‘What I’m thinking is that he really needs someone to take good care of him over Christmas, but then he’ll need to go home. Do you understand?’ Joe gave the dog’s head a pat.
Jessie’s face was stony and Lottie thought she was going to cry. ‘Sooo I get to have a dog, but only for Christmas?’
‘I’m afraid so, sweetheart,’ said Zach.
‘Can I name him?’ asked Jessie, her jaw tight. Joe shrugged, but Zach was shaking his head. ‘I’m calling you Dave,’ she told the scruffy little dog, who looked up into her eyes like he’d found the love of his life.
‘Dave?’ questioned Lottie, handing round more mulled wines.
‘It’s the name of her favourite minion,’ explained Emily. ‘It’s a cartoon character,’ she said to Uncle Bernard, who was looking puzzled. Lottie smiled inwardly. It said a lot about Emily that she knew this about Jessie. Although Zach had been keeping Emily to himself, it seemed they must have been spending quite a bit of time together, as Lottie had already noted that Jessie seemed very comfortable in Emily’s company.
Lottie poured grape juice for Jessie and another on the quiet for Emily, just in case, and they all stood around the Christmas tree chatting and drinking. The Christmas cards flashed into Lottie’s mind and she went to get them. She steeled herself and entered Nana’s room on her own, keeping her mind on her task. As she picked up the cards, she noticed that Zach had left the bottom drawer open on the dressing table. She went to close it as she passed and something inside caught her eye. She bent down and picked up the car ornament Zach had been looking for earlier. How had he missed that? Popping it in her pocket, Lottie switched off the light and left.
Zach was coming out of the blue room and put a finger to his lips. ‘I’ve put Jessie back to bed.’
‘Without Dave?’ said Lottie with a smile.
Zach looked momentarily confused and then recovered. ‘Joe managed to convince her that the dog would be better staying with him tonight and he’ll bring him back in the morning.’
‘Christmas Day?’ Lottie couldn’t hide the alarm in her voice.
Zach shrugged. ‘Clearly he has nothing better planned.’
Great, thought Lottie. You don’t see someone for nine years and then they’re everywhere.
They walked downstairs together. ‘Here you go,’ said Lottie, handing the car ornament to Zach.
‘What do I want … oh yeah, great. Thanks,’ he said, putting it in his trouser pocket. It wasn’t the joyful response of someone who had been searching high and low for something. Lottie’s suspicions of what Zach had been up to in the drawing room earlier increased.
‘I thought it was probably time to hand these out,’ she said, waving the cards.
As they approached the drawing room, they met Joe in the hallway. He was leaving with the dog under his arm. ‘Me and Dave are off now,’ he said.
‘You don’t have to go,’ said Zach, looking at Lottie to back him up.
Joe looked conciliatory. ‘I think we’ve caused enough chaos for one night.’
‘Did you want to stay for lunch tomorrow?’ asked Zach.
Joe looked at Lottie. ‘I guess that’s up to the chef.’
She could hardly rescind Zach’s invitation. When she thought about it she’d rather know in advance if she had another one to feed, and she’d feel better knowing one way or the other if Joe was going to be there all day or not. ‘It makes sense to eat here if you’ve got to walk back up with Dave,’ she said.
She could see he was thinking about it. ‘Thanks. I’d love to.’
‘Great,’ said Zach, slapping him manfully on the arm. ‘See you tomorrow.’ He headed for the drawing room.
‘Night, Dave,’ said Lottie, still amused by Jessie’s name choice. She gave the dog some fuss.
Joe brushed his fingers through his hair and looked awkward. ‘Look, you know we—’
‘Not the time, Joe,’ said Lottie. ‘Night.’ And without a backwards look, she followed her brother.
Lottie handed the cards to Zach, who gave her a long-suffering look as he saw the buck pass in his direction. She busied herself refilling people’s glasses. The mulled wine had gone down a treat and there appeared to be no immediate ill effects from it having briefly been a mouse Jacuzzi.
‘Can I have your attention for a minute?’ announced Zach. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him. ‘Lottie and I found some Christmas cards that Nana wrote before she … left us. It looks like she knew she didn’t have long left and she’s explained that in the cards.’ He handed them around.
‘She added a few words of wisdom to mine and Zach’s and we’re kind of assuming she’s done the same in all of yours.’ Lottie scanned the faces. They didn’t seem quite so keen to rip them open now.
‘You can open them in private, if you want to,’ said Zach, giving Lottie a look.
Lottie sat down on the arm of the sofa next to her mother and hoped very much that she was planning to open hers now. Lottie sipped her mulled wine, eyeing her family over the rim of her mug. She noticed that Uncle Daniel and Aunt Nicola had separate cards, which intrigued her. Rhys took his, stuffed it in his back pocket and carried on scrolling through his phone. Emily was watching too as, like Scott, she didn’t have one to open.
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Scott asked Angie. Lottie leaned back slightly so she was at a good angle if Angie opened the card.
‘It’s just a Christmas card,’ said Angie, but Lottie could tell she was wary of what message might be inside.
Uncle Bernard opened his card and Dayea read it over his shoulder, which Lottie thought was a little impolite.
‘Lottie, have we got any more of that fizzy stuff?’ asked Uncle Bernard.
Lottie wanted to hang on to what they had left for Christmas dinner, so she was trying to form a response when her mother answered for her. ‘I’ve seen four bottles in the utility, Bernie. Shall I get them?’
Bum, thought Lottie. ‘They were actually for tomorrow.’ Lottie didn’t want to be a killjoy, but she liked a glass of fizz with her Christmas dinner. ‘There’s plenty of wine.’
‘But we need fizz for a toast,’ said Bernie, focusing on Angie, who was already on her feet. She duly returned with the bottles on a tray and a hotchpotch of glasses, as most of the appropriate ones were already in the ancient dishwasher. Lottie sent up a silent prayer to the god of domestic appliances every time she set the thing off.
Scott popped the cork on the first bottle and Lottie tried hard not to sulk whilst glasses were filled and passed round.
Bernard cleared his throat. ‘It’s a blessing to have all of you here this Christmas, and these cards from Rose show that she would have whole-heartedly agreed with me on that. She also offers a reminder that life ca
n throw you unexpected curveballs; some good, and some bad. She’s advised me to enjoy my old age and to squeeze every drop of joy out of it that I can. So I’d like to offer two toasts. Firstly, merry Christmas, Rose, wherever you are.’ He held up his glass.
‘Merry Christmas, Rose,’ everyone chorused, and sipped their drinks in unison.
‘And secondly, whilst we’re together, there’s something I wanted to tell you all,’ said Bernard, and the family exchanged concerned glances. ‘I’m conscious of the fact that I’m not a well man …’
‘Here we go,’ whispered Zach to Lottie. ‘This’ll be my last Christmas,’ he said, mimicking Uncle Bernie’s voice, and Lottie dug him in the ribs to shut him up.
‘… so I’ve been thinking seriously about my future,’ continued Bernard. ‘And I want to take matters into my own hands—’
‘Not, not,’ began Daniel, clicking his fingers as if trying to summon the word, ‘that place in Switzerland.’
‘Dignitas?!’ said Lottie, her fingertips rushing to her lips with the shock of what this meant.
‘That’s it,’ said Daniel, giving Lottie a congratulatory nod.
‘No, you can’t, Uncle Bernie.’ Lottie was shaking her head and Zach put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
‘Well I, for one, think it’s very sensible,’ said Aunt Nicola. Daniel shot her a look. ‘What? If it’s what he wants.’
Bernard cleared his throat again, but it was more of a half-chuckle. ‘You lot do jump to some funny conclusions. I know I’m not in the best of health, but I’m not at death’s door either. Lottie, love, cheer up.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’d like to announce …’ He looked furtively at Dayea, reached out, took her hand and drew her closer to his chair. ‘I’ve asked Dayea to be my wife and she said yes!’
One Family Christmas: The perfect, cosy, heart-warming read to curl up with this winter Page 9