It was as if someone had pressed a pause button: the whole room froze, with the exception of Scott, who popped the cork on the remaining bottle of fizz, sending the cork flying into the Christmas tree and scoring a direct hit on the Duchess who was still hiding there. With a screech of a meow she fell out of the tree and shredded a few presents in her haste to get away.
‘Congratulations!’ cheered Scott, and a mumbled echo ran around the roomful of stunned relatives.
Lottie downed her fizz in one go, fervently hoping tomorrow would be a less eventful day.
Chapter Eleven
It had been an odd evening: partly a normal Christmas Eve and partly an engagement party for Great Uncle Bernard and Dayea. Lottie had to admit that they seemed very happy – neither of them had stopped smiling since the announcement, which was lovely to see – but the looks that had been exchanged between the other family members conveyed their concerns. Dayea had been his carer for a while, but their burgeoning relationship had gone under everyone’s radar.
As the old clock nudged midnight, Lottie was handwashing the glasses. She was startled when her mother dashed into the kitchen. ‘Did you know about Bernard?’ she asked, her words tumbling out extra fast.
‘No,’ said Lottie, over her shoulder. ‘And even if I did, it’s not exactly any of our business.’
Her mother leaned back against the worktop and watched Lottie. ‘It is our business if that woman thinks she can wheedle money out of Uncle Bernie or out of this house.’
‘Ah, that’s what’s got you worried. You think she’s after the inheritance?’ Lottie shook her head. Her mother was so predictable; not really concerned for her elderly uncle, merely worried that she might, in some way, lose out financially.
‘Not at all. You read about this sort of thing in the papers.’
‘Do you?’ Lottie doubted that you did.
‘Yes. Poor confused elderly people being cheated out of their money and home.’
Lottie snorted a chuckle. ‘He’s not confused. And I’m pretty sure there’s no way she could get the house, because the deeds are with the solicitor. Poor Bernard has already had his home sold from under him.’ Just like me, she thought. Lottie washed the last glass and placed it on the drainer. ‘Plus, I think you’re overlooking the fact Dayea is lovely. She dotes on Uncle Bernard.’
‘It’s not right though. An age difference like that.’
Lottie’s eyebrows rose and stayed put. There was no way she could let that one go. ‘What, like the age gap between you and Scott?’
Angie pulled her head back like a threatened tortoise, giving herself a triple chin. ‘That’s completely different, as you well know.’
‘No, it’s not. You’re old enough to have breast-fed him.’
‘Rubbish. There’s only single figures between me and Scott.’
‘If you believe that, then you’re either delusional or very bad at maths.’
Angie chewed her lip. ‘It’s single figures, because he thinks I’m forty-two, so—’
‘He’s the one that’s bad at maths.’ She waved a tea towel at her mother, but when she ignored the gesture Lottie started drying up.
Angie moved towards Lottie and she thought, for a moment, she was about to lend a hand but instead she hoiked herself up to sit on the worktop. ‘Did you read your Christmas card?’
‘From you? Yes, I said thank you,’ said Lottie, deliberately misunderstanding her mother’s question.
‘No. The one from Nana.’ Angie’s expression was brooding.
Lottie was a terrible liar, so she deflected the question, in the hope that her mother wouldn’t probe any further. ‘Yep. Did you open yours?’ Her mother nodded. Lottie paused the drying up. ‘And?’
Angie shrugged. ‘It said she knew about the cancer and she wanted me to be happy.’
Lottie watched her mother closely. It was likely she had inherited her useless lying ability from her. ‘And what was her advice?’
Angie glanced over Lottie’s shoulder and her expression changed.
‘Here you are,’ said Scott, from the doorway. ‘Everyone’s going to bed. Shall we?’
‘I was just giving Lottie a hand, but I think we’re nearly done now.’ She hopped down from the worktop and kissed Lottie lightly on the cheek. ‘Night, darling,’ she said.
‘Thanks for an ace evening,’ said Scott.
‘You’re welcome.’ She watched them snuggle together as they walked away. She couldn’t help but marvel at her mother’s unfailing conviction that this next guy might be the one, and that, if it turned out he wasn’t, she would still believe her perfect man was out there somewhere, she merely had to hunt him down.
Maybe Lottie wasn’t cut out for relationships. For some reason the men she fell for found her really easy to walk away from. She knew she couldn’t face a lifetime of being hurt; she wasn’t as resilient as her mother. She took things to heart, she always had.
Zach strode in carrying more glasses. ‘These were on the windowsill.’
‘I asked if that was all of them,’ said Lottie, feeling tired and a bit irritated.
‘Hey, I’ve just sat and blown up umpteen balloons. Packets of the things.’
‘Ta,’ she said, ticking balloons off her list, but she lacked enthusiasm.
‘You need a hand?’
‘No, Mum’s been helping me.’
‘Really?’ His eyebrows registered his surprise.
‘No, not really.’ She plunged the glasses into the suds. ‘Sorry, I’m tired and … you know … Joe’s back.’ She held his gaze for a moment and some level of understanding passed between them.
Zach picked up a tea towel. ‘You not pleased to see Joe?’
Lottie paused, her hands covered in bubbles. ‘Pleased?’ She pondered the word. ‘I guess I’m pleased to see him. But then I remember him leaving and that makes me sad. It feels like everything’s been turned upside down.’ She huffed and rubbed at her mother’s lipstick stain on the rim of a glass. ‘I’d packaged up everything about Joe and pushed it into a dusty corner of my mind. I’ve moved on.’ She checked Zach was still paying attention. ‘But you must be pleased he’s back.’ Zach and Joe had always been close as kids – both football crazy and big on dinosaurs.
‘I am. I like that I’ll still have a reason to visit Henbourne after this place is off our hands.’
‘Don’t say it like you’ll be glad,’ said Lottie.
He gave a sheepish grin. ‘You see right through me. No, honestly, I’m really going to miss the old place. Not as much as you, but still. Are you going to stay around here or …?’
Lottie turned to face him whilst drying her hands. ‘Rent is high around here, so I doubt it. Number one priority is finding a job – and that could take me anywhere.’ To some people that would be an exciting prospect, but not to Lottie. She wanted to stay cocooned in Henbourne Manor where she felt protected. But what she wanted and what was practical were two very different things. In a few weeks the sale would go through and she’d be homeless. She needed to get a job fast.
‘Maybe you could find something local? I got mates rates on the rent for Joe’s place so—’ Lottie’s head jerked up and she almost dropped the glass she was about to put away.
‘You sorted out the cottage for Joe?’ There was a hard edge to her voice.
‘Er, yeah. He messaged me on Facebook, asked what I thought. You know, about coming back. And if I could help him find somewhere.’
‘You knew he was coming back and you didn’t think to warn me?’ Lottie put down the glass with a thump and they both recoiled at the sound.
‘Don’t be miffed.’
Miffed came nowhere near to how hurt and cross she was. ‘Zach. Think back. Do you remember how I was when Joe left?’ She could feel unwelcome emotions bubbling, and she had to concentrate to keep them at bay.
Zach scratched his head. ‘It was a long time ago, Lottie.’
Her eyes widened incredulously. ‘And what? Time heals?’
Always one for the facts, was Zach. She knew he was right, but seeing Joe that morning had shaken her more than she wanted to admit, and dug up long-hidden feelings she was scared to be reacquainted with. ‘But forewarned is forearmed,’ she pointed out. That’s what Nana said, too, and it was true.
Zach’s thoughtful silence was irritating Lottie. She washed out the suds from the sink with jerky movements, refilled it with hot water and stomped off to the utility to retrieve the turkey, mulling over whether she could make battering someone with a frozen turkey look like an accident. She spotted the mop bucket and remembered the mouse.
Zach followed her. ‘You cleaning at this time of night?’
‘No. The Duchess invited someone round for a sleepover.’ She took off the lid and they both peered inside. The tiny mouse was curled up on an old cloth.
‘Is it dead?’ asked Zach.
Lottie saw its whisker twitch. ‘No, he’s sleeping off a massive hangover.’
‘Ri-ight,’ said Zach, looking thoroughly confused.
‘I think I’ll leave him until tomorrow.’ Lottie put the lid back.
‘I know you were upset when Joe left and everything …’ Zach began. She shook her head and heaved the partially defrosted turkey into her arms.
‘Upset?’ She hugged the icy poultry and pulled an exaggerated grimace. ‘Try “totally devastated” and you won’t be close.’ She dropped the turkey unceremoniously into the sink. Half the water sloshed out and all down her front. Zach sniggered and she twisted to glare at him, although she could see the funny side too. Some of her annoyance at Zach abated. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘You only had to tip me off, that’s all I’m saying. Seeing him this morning brought it all back at a hundred miles an hour and kinda gave me memory whiplash.’
‘I didn’t say anything because you had enough going on with Nana. I figured Joe was coming back whatever your feelings on the matter, so you were going to have to face it. Why have the worry beforehand?’
It felt like he had considered her feelings, but she still wished he’d mentioned it. At least that would have taken the shock out of her early morning encounter.
Lottie took a deep breath. ‘Okay. But for future reference a heads-up would be welcome.’
He stood up straight and saluted her. ‘The next time you have an ex-boyfriend about to move back and I happen to get prior notice, I promise to tell you before his flight lands.’
He was incorrigible. ‘Gee, thanks. Now clear off – you’ve been about as helpful as Mum.’
‘Harsh.’ He grabbed a Santa hat she’d left on the table and threw it playfully at her. ‘Night, sis.’ He walked to the door and paused. ‘And merry Christmas.’
‘You too.’
Lottie was about to put away the glasses when she realised what Zach had forgotten. She sighed – the glasses could wait. She pulled on the Santa hat and went to do her last job of the day – or the first one of Christmas Day, depending on what way you looked at it.
Emily had finally got her chance to go to the bathroom, but now she wasn’t sure she wanted to do the test any more. It would change everything, and Emily didn’t want her life to change. Things with Zach had been going really well. He’d wanted to take things slowly at the beginning, and that suited her. Their relationship had grown steadily and she was happy. Work was going brilliantly, she was on track for promotion, and for the first time there was an opportunity to earn more than her sister. This was something she’d been striving for, and for so long it had eluded her – the opportunity to be better than her sister at something. She was on the cusp of winning.
The blue room was in darkness because Jessie was asleep, so Emily felt her way around and gathered up her washbag and night things. She wasn’t a fan of the dark. She wasn’t scared of it, she just wasn’t used to it – she lived in a town full of streetlights. Out of the window, she noticed it was pitch black – no light pollution at all. She pulled the curtains tightly closed – talk of ghosts earlier had made her a bit jumpy. The only sound was Jessie’s steady breathing.
‘Your turn,’ whispered Zach, returning from his night-time routine.
Emily went to the bathroom. She hurried about washing her face and brushing her teeth to buy herself a little time. She didn’t want Zach wondering why she was taking so long. She unwrapped the pregnancy test and speed read the instructions – it was pretty straightforward.
She slumped against the wall. This wasn’t how she’d expected this moment to be. She’d thought that one day in her future she’d have a family. When she was ready. When she was at the peak of her career, and comfortably ahead of her sister. But was that ever going to happen? Each time she got close to beating her sister, something happened. Either her chances were derailed or her sister got some accolade. Emily was tired. Tired of the endless battle, the constantly moving goal posts. She studied the tester kit. If she was pregnant, that was it – the end of the race. Her sister was going to zoom into the lead and stay there.
Emily hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t a thoughtless teenager, she was a responsible adult who had taken precautions. A baby did not feature in her plans right now.
She closed her eyes and turned the little box over in her hand. If this was it – the moment she’d find out she and Zach were going to be parents – then shouldn’t he be here too?
Zach was already in bed when Emily returned from the bathroom, so she scooted in next to him. She stared into the darkness and pondered what to do.
‘Zach?’
‘Hmmm.’ He sounded sleepy.
She didn’t know what to say. ‘It’s okay. Forget it.’ She wriggled under the covers.
‘Is something worrying you?’ he asked. She was impressed by his perceptiveness. This could be the opportunity she’d hoped for, a chance to share the situation with him. ‘Because you know the whole ghost thing is a legend. None of us have seen it. Well … apart from that time Granddad swore blind someone tapped him on the shoulder when he was in the loft.’
‘Right, yeah, the ghost,’ said Emily, blinking into the darkness and failing to see much at all.
‘There was also the shadow that Nana saw on quite a few occasions, but we put it down to her cataracts. And the time the bathroom door slammed twice but no windows were open. But, you know – an old house like this makes odd noises.’
‘Okay,’ said Emily, beginning to feel not very reassured at all. ‘Anything else?’
Zach leaned in closer and she could make out his features. ‘You know that sensation that someone’s watching you?’ Emily nodded. ‘I get that here a lot but when I look there’s no-one there.’
Emily shuddered. ‘Do you think there’s a ghost?’
‘Who knows? Night,’ he said, placing a kiss on her cheek before turning over.
Emily pulled the covers up a little higher, her mind now fully occupied by the ghost stories. She gave herself a mental shake: there were no such things as ghosts. At least it had taken her mind off the pregnancy test for a while. She turned over to face the door, shut her eyes and listened to the rhythmic sound of Zach’s breathing. She’d just started to drift off to sleep when she heard a creak. It was faint but it made her eyes snap open. Darkness swathed the room. A flicker of dim light appeared fleetingly at the bottom of the door. Emily froze. She watched shadows moving in the hallway; heard another creak. Her breath caught in her throat. The light faded.
‘Zach,’ she whispered. There was no response. She stared at the bottom of the door for a moment until her attention was pulled further up, where the handle was slowly turning. Her heart started to race; she could barely breathe. The door gradually opened. A shadowy figure loomed in the doorway. Bright red demon eyes flashed, slightly out of sync. Emily screamed.
‘Em!’ Zach shot upright.
‘Daddy!’ came the sleepy cry from Jessie.
Someone flicked on the light. Emily stopped screaming. She blinked at the figure in
the doorway. Lottie was standing there wearing a Santa hat and her flashing Christmas earrings – she looked quite cross. Emily was confused. Why was she creeping into their bedroom?
‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ said Lottie, holding something behind her back.
Zach hopped out of bed and went to Jessie. ‘It’s just Lottie saying goodnight. Come on you, back to sleep.’ Jessie didn’t need telling twice; she slumped back onto her pillow and closed her eyes. Zach turned back to Emily and gave her the same cross look that Lottie was wearing.
Why did she feel like she was the crazy one? ‘I’m sorry. I thought it was the ghost.’
Lottie held up a bulging Christmas stocking and passed it to Zach, who silently placed it at the foot of the bed, mouthing ‘thank you’ to Lottie. Realisation dawned on Emily. She felt like a prize idiot.
Lottie switched off the light and left the room. Emily blinked in the darkness. At her side, she felt Zach turn over huffily. She sat for a moment, waiting for her heart rate to settle. This was turning out to be a Christmas she wouldn’t forget – for all the wrong reasons.
Lottie laid out her outfit for Christmas Day, something she’d done every Christmas Eve since she was a child – apart from the Christmases where Nana had said ‘You’ll be fine in your pyjamas’, which was code for ‘You’re getting some new clothes’.
She finally got into bed and shivered at the chill of the cotton. She wriggled about to try to warm herself and the covers up. It didn’t work. She thought about the rest of the family all cuddled up with their partners. Even Jessie had gone to bed cuddling a much-loved teddy. Only she and Great Uncle Bernard were sleeping alone, and he wouldn’t be doing that for much longer. She let out a sigh.
Every time she tried to clear her mind, Joe popped up like a sexy jack-in-the-box. She kept having the same row with him in her head over and over again: where she would demand an answer to his behaviour nine years ago, and he wouldn’t have a good enough excuse. It was exhausting. On top of that, she was worrying about whether the turkey would defrost in time, and her feet wouldn’t warm up. It was useless. Lottie got out of bed, padded down to the thermostat and moved it up a few notches – she was fed up with being cold.
One Family Christmas: The perfect, cosy, heart-warming read to curl up with this winter Page 10