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

by Bella Osborne

  Lottie wasn’t sure how to reply. ‘We all have our talents,’ she said. ‘Sadly, mine isn’t cooking.’ She nodded at the sliced parsnips, which she now realised she should have cut into chunks.

  The turkey seemed to have defrosted overnight, and Lottie put it in the oven, according to Emily’s mum’s instructions. After an internet search, she was delighted to find a picture of a vegan Christmas wreath, which was basically a veggie sausage roll made into a circle shape and decorated with cranberries and basil to look like sprigs of holly. She and Emily had made their own version using the leftover slab of ready-roll pastry Lottie had bought for the sausage rolls and which she was thrilled to discover was vegan friendly. They made their own filling of mushrooms, garlic, cranberries and onion with a good grating of nutmeg. They had no idea how it would turn out, but at least her mother couldn’t say she’d not made an effort. She hoped it was edible, for Scott’s sake.

  ‘Do you want to get changed?’ asked Emily, glancing at Lottie’s onesie.

  Lottie looked down at herself. She didn’t know where the time had gone. ‘If you’re okay here?’ she asked, feeling like Emily was now very much part of the team.

  ‘Of course. Go!’ And she shooed her from the kitchen.

  Lottie was showered and changed and heading back downstairs when she heard giggling coming from the bathroom. She stopped and listened. It was her mother and Scott. She shook her head, she didn’t want to think about what was going on in there. The voices stopped, the bathroom door opened at speed and her mother’s face appeared. ‘Tut, tut, tut, Lottie. Looking through keyholes?’ The squeaky floorboards must have given her away.

  She heard Scott chuckle behind her. ‘No, I was …’ She stopped herself; she didn’t have to explain herself to her mother. And she wasn’t going to let her wind her up today. She turned away.

  ‘Hang on. Don’t go. Have you got any batteries?’ asked Angie, sounding a little anxious.

  ‘What size?’ asked Lottie.

  Angie giggled. ‘Big ones.’

  Lottie was suspicious. ‘What for?’

  ‘Goodness Lottie, what’s with the Spanish inquisition?’

  ‘I’ll look in the messy drawer.’ Lottie went to leave but Angie spoke again.

  ‘Erm …’ her mother paused. ‘How’s dinner going?’

  Angie had sailed through every Christmas doing the bare minimum and this year was to be no exception. ‘Fine, thanks. I’ve got things to do,’ said Lottie.

  ‘Oh, so have I, darling. So have I,’ she said, with a sultry wink. Lottie shuddered and sped off.

  When she reached the hall, Zach and Joe were coming in through the front door. Dave was trotting happily at their heels and they seemed to be in high spirits. ‘How did it go with Giles?’ asked Lottie.

  ‘We couldn’t see anything really. So it looks like I’m on poo patrol for the next twenty-four hours,’ said Zach with a chuckle.

  ‘You seem happy about that.’ There was no getting away from their jolly manner.

  ‘We popped into the Bear for a swift one,’ said Joe.

  ‘We got more fizz,’ said Zach, waving about two bottles, which Lottie intercepted.

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re both drunk.’

  Zach waved his hands rapidly, palms down, as if he was worshipping her. ‘Shhh. Keep your voice down. And no, not drunk. Just the right level of merry for Christmas.’ With that, he and Joe started to laugh, proving beyond doubt that they were definitely drunk.

  ‘I only had one,’ said Joe, undoing Dave’s skipping rope. The dog made a dash for the stairs and Lottie grabbed him.

  ‘Oh, no you don’t. The Duchess is up there snoozing.’ She held on to the dog and turned towards Zach. ‘Good luck sorting poo in your state.’

  ‘Not my fault,’ said Zach. ‘The new landlady was too welcoming.’

  ‘She’s got a young English Mastiff. Gorgeous dog,’ added Joe.

  ‘Tiny is an unconventional pub dog, but he has become a bit of a local favourite,’ agreed Lottie.

  ‘This fella could be a guard dog.’ Joe fussed Dave and the dog wagged his tail furiously. With his mouth lolling open he looked like he was laughing, too.

  ‘Oh, yeah. He’s terrifying.’ Today she felt far more awkward around Joe than yesterday. Perhaps the shock had worn off, taking some of the anger with it. Now she was facing the day-to-day reality of him being back. She needed to tackle that situation head on. And as Nana would say, there was no time like the present.

  ‘Can you take Dave in there?’ she asked Zach. Before he could answer, she’d thrust Dave into his arms, guided him into the drawing room and shut the door.

  She turned to Joe. ‘We need to talk,’ she said, grabbing her coat and opening the front door.

  Joe looked resigned as he turned up his collar and went outside. They started walking in silence while Lottie ordered her thoughts. The sky was bright but there was still a bite to the wind that cut along the ridge the house stood on.

  ‘Here’s the thing,’ she said, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. ‘I understand why you left when you did, but I had no idea you weren’t coming back.’

  ‘I’m back,’ he said, in a jolly voice.

  ‘Joe, I want to have a proper discussion about this. Clear the air. If you’re not capable of that …’

  ‘Sorry. You’re right.’ There was a long pause. ‘I guess even I didn’t know I wasn’t coming back. Not when I first left. I just needed to get away. There was a tentative offer of a university place in the States and I wanted to get as far away from Henbourne as I could.’ He twisted to look at her. She was watching him closely.

  ‘I know. You said that in your note.’ She’d read and re-read the note she’d found on the doormat so many times she could recall it even now. How he didn’t want to hurt her, but felt he would go mad if he stayed and that she was most definitely better off without him. The feelings of that day, so deeply buried, began to resurface and churn in her gut. Her mouth went dry. ‘Joe, you had people who cared about you here and you shut them off. You shut me off.’

  ‘Had?’ repeated Joe, not looking at Lottie. ‘I had people who cared. But not any more. Eh?’

  His challenge sparked anger inside her. ‘Yes, had. You’ve been gone for nine years!’ Her voice was rising. ‘Did you expect me to put my life on hold for you? Did you think I had nothing better to do than sit here twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to come back? You didn’t call. You didn’t write. I had no idea where the hell you were. And you clearly didn’t care about me!’ She was shouting through the tears and she roughly wiped them away with her sleeve.

  She took in a few gasps of icy air and lengthened her stride. She’d been a mess when he’d left. That was meant to have been their summer. Their last few weeks together before they went to separate universities. They had festival tickets and a week booked in a caravan in St Ives, as well as a ludicrous amount of parties and barbecues lined up. They’d pledged to keep their relationship going, to be committed to the long-distance thing. But that had been when they thought the distance between them would be from York to Bath, not England to America.

  Joe caught her up and placed a hand on her arm. She halted, and he faltered, looking up at the dull sky. Eventually he spoke. ‘I guess when my …’ There was another long pause and Lottie realised that even after all these years he couldn’t speak about what had happened. He took another deep breath. When he spoke, the deep sadness in his voice held her attention. ‘I think I must have had some sort of breakdown. I don’t know for sure. I didn’t see a doctor or anything. I couldn’t face any of it. Couldn’t cope. It was like I had to shut my old life into a box. Lock it up and throw away the key.’

  It took the wind out of Lottie’s sails. Until now, whilst she had understood what had driven Joe to leave, she hadn’t appreciated the full impact on his mental health. She let what he’d said sink in.

  Her anger subsided. ‘I wish you’d stayed. You didn’t have to face it alone.’ />
  ‘I did,’ said Joe emphatically. ‘I couldn’t drag anyone else down. Least of all you.’

  ‘You left me …’ she started. His eyes were locked on hers, but he stayed silent. She wanted to tell him what she’d had to deal with alone – what she’d been through – but she couldn’t, and perhaps she never would. She understood what he meant about shutting things in a box and throwing away the key – she’d done exactly the same thing. But that was something she couldn’t share with him, with anybody.

  The wind picked up and Lottie shuddered. Her coat wasn’t a match for the December weather. They had been on a bit of a route march. When he didn’t respond, she put her head down and headed back towards the manor.

  They walked in time and in silence until they reached the driveway, where Joe halted abruptly. Lottie slowed to a stop and turned to look at him. His head was low. He slowly looked up. ‘I am truly sorry for what I put you through, Lottie, but I still think it was the right decision.’

  She didn’t answer him. She wasn’t sure what he wanted from her, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it was all okay – because it wasn’t. When she didn’t respond he gave a nod of understanding and walked past her up to the house.

  She waited there for a minute, watching him disappear up the drive. He was standing by his decision. His decision to leave Henbourne; to leave her. Fine, at least now they both knew where they stood. The sooner she got away from here, the better.

  When Lottie came inside, there was no sign of Joe. The smell of the cooking turkey was a welcome assault on her nostrils; she breathed it in deeply. She checked her face in the hall mirror, marvelling at how blotchy it could get from a few tears. She ran her fingers through her short hair, redid her special Christmassy hair clip and straightened her shoulders. She only had to get through today, then she could forget about Joe Broomfield and move on with her life – something she thought she’d done nine years ago.

  Zach came into the hallway, his eyes alight with mischief. ‘I think I know where I’ve seen Scott before.’

  ‘Great.’ Lottie put her hands on her hips.

  ‘Don’t sound so enthusiastic. You’re going to love this … What’s wrong? Have you been crying?’

  Lottie closed her eyes. She didn’t want to cry again. It was silly, but she couldn’t help it.

  ‘Hey. Is it dinner? Because I bet we can get someone to open up the village stores and get a load of pizzas. I quite fancy pizza.’

  He wasn’t even joking. She gave him a shove and rubbed at her eyes. ‘No. Dinner is fine.’ Although she did need to go and check on her timings. ‘It’s Joe.’

  Zach had the look of every confused male. ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘Nothing new. He just said that he felt leaving me was the right decision. And it hurt a bit. But I’m fine.’ To prove her point, she slapped on a fake smile, which Zach seemed to take as genuine.

  ‘Okay. Great. Let me tell you about Scott.’ Are all men completely insensitive, or simply oblivious? thought Lottie.

  The drawing room door opened and Dayea came out, heading for the stairs. She stopped, turned around and approached Lottie. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, her eyes seeming to reflect Lottie’s sadness.

  ‘I’m fine. But thanks for checking,’ said Lottie, trying her best to sound bright.

  Dayea took her hand. ‘Thank you for inviting me. I’m having a very lovely Christmas.’

  ‘I’d hold fire with the compliments until after lunch, if I were you, Dayea,’ joked Zach. He received glares from both women in response.

  ‘You’re one of the family now,’ said Lottie.

  ‘That is a kind thing to say but then you are a kind girl.’ Dayea patted her hand before continuing upstairs.

  Zach led Lottie down the hall nearer to the kitchen. He held up his hands to big up his revelation. ‘I thought I’d met Scott somewhere before. It turns out I haven’t, but I have seen him somewhere before.’

  ‘Right. Where?’ Lottie was losing interest and the cauliflower cheese was calling her.

  ‘In a porn film!’

  ‘What?’ Lottie’s mouth had fallen open. She shut it again. ‘Are you sure? You have been drinking.’

  Zach waved her words away. ‘Certain. The whole trimmer thing was probably code, or a cover story or something.’ Zach was nodding excitedly. ‘He’s definitely a porn star. You didn’t need to get him a present – you could have given him coal. He’s a very naughty boy.’ Zach was giggling.

  ‘How sure are you about this?’

  ‘Certain. Trust me, I’ve seen him in loads of porn films.’

  The sound of someone dropping something in the kitchen drew their attention. They both peered around the door to see Emily looking shocked. Lottie was pleased that it wasn’t her mother. That would be no way to find out that your new partner was a porn star.

  Emily was staring wide-eyed at Zach. He was still grinning, but his smile dropped at Emily’s stony expression. ‘I don’t usually watch porn,’ he said, directing his words to Emily but twisting to look at both women. Emily stormed out of the kitchen and upstairs.

  ‘Shit,’ said Zach.

  ‘I think you’ve got some explaining to do.’ Lottie pointed after Emily. ‘Go after her, you dunderhead.’

  ‘Right. Yes.’ Zach at last jogged off down the hallway. ‘Em, wait! I can explain.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lottie busied herself in the kitchen and was pleased with how dinner was coming along. It was slightly worrying that everything seemed to be under control – it probably meant she’d forgotten something vital. She checked her plan and timings. It was all on track. As per Emily’s mum’s instructions, she liberally basted the turkey with goose fat and reverently returned it to the warmth of the old cooker.

  Angie’s head popped round the door. ‘Did you find those batteries?’

  ‘No, sorry, I’ve only got the little ones. I think Zach used the last big ones for one of Jessie’s new toys.’

  ‘Great, which toy?’

  Angie’s enthusiasm had Lottie suspicious. ‘That noisy robot thing. Why?’

  ‘No reason,’ said Angie and she was gone.

  Lottie had no sooner turned back to the cooker than a bump and bang announced Uncle Bernard powering into the kitchen, catching the doorframe on the way in. ‘I’ve come to check on the ham,’ he bellowed. He’d been on the sherry since breakfast, which definitely impacted on his driving skills and probably wasn’t wise on his medication.

  ‘It’s in the fridge. We don’t need it until teatime,’ said Lottie.

  ‘What time is dinner?’ asked Daniel, strolling in with his eyes glued to his phone.

  ‘Usual time. Why?’ asked Lottie, as she hopped up to sit on the worktop to avoid being run over by Uncle Bernard, who was now lapping the kitchen.

  ‘Thought I might … um … pop out afterwards. Or possibly before.’ Uncle Daniel pulled out a chair and blocked Lottie’s route to the cooker. ‘Have I got time before dinner?’

  Lottie was getting flustered; she was meant to be making the stuffing. ‘That depends on where you need to be and how long you’re staying for.’

  ‘Ah, yes. I suppose.’ Daniel returned to his phone.

  A door banged and the sound echoed down the hallway. Someone wasn’t happy. Zach appeared in the doorway. ‘That didn’t go well,’ he said, all saggy-shouldered.

  Lottie didn’t have time to comfort him now. ‘I’m sure Emily will come around.’ She reread the ingredients and instructions for the stuffing for the fifth time.

  ‘Should I slice the ham now?’ Uncle Bernard had his head in the fridge – Lottie wasn’t sure if he was asking her or not. ‘It’d be all ready to go into sandwiches then.’ He hummed ‘Jingle Bells’ as if pondering his options. ‘Where’s the electric knife thingy?’ he asked, spinning his chair ominously in Lottie’s direction.

  A vision of a Christmas Day massacre as Uncle Bernard careered around in his out-of-control wheelchair brandishing the electric
carving knife shot into Lottie’s mind. She couldn’t risk that. ‘I think it died,’ she said. She couldn’t look him in the eye; he’d know she was lying.

  ‘That’s a shame.’ Uncle Bernard looked sad.

  ‘I’ll have a check later,’ said Lottie, relenting. ‘I might be wrong.’

  ‘Where’s the robot? I can’t find it and Jessie has disappeared,’ said Angie, marching in with her hands on her hips.

  ‘Enough!’ said Lottie, and they all jolted at her raised voice. ‘I can’t concentrate if everyone is asking me questions.’

  ‘Should we go, Button?’ asked Uncle Bernard.

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Lottie, composing herself.

  Angie had a face like she’d swallowed holly. ‘But I just need—’

  ‘Shoo,’ said Bernard, and he ran her out of the kitchen with his wheelchair on its highest speed setting.

  ‘Thank you,’ called Lottie. She was grateful to Uncle Bernard, although she feared the day could still end in a hail of bullets – or her mince pies, which could probably do a similar level of damage.

  Lottie made the stuffing using step-by-step instructions from Emily’s mum. It was much easier now everyone had disappeared. She moved back to view everything bubbling merrily on the stove and breathed a little sigh of relief. She hoped it wasn’t tempting fate, but she seemed to be on track.

  She scanned her list. Next up: lay the table. Their Christmas table was always something special, and this year was no exception. Lottie had sat down weeks ago with Nana and they had chosen the colour scheme, so she wanted to make sure it was just right.

  She was rummaging in the sideboard when Jessie popped her head around the door.

  ‘Watchya doing?’ Jessie asked.

  ‘I’m laying the table. Do you want to help me?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ve got something for the centre.’ Jessie ran off and returned shortly afterwards with something green and red made from papier mâché.

  ‘Oh that’s impressive,’ said Lottie.

  ‘It’s holly,’ said Jessie, proudly placing it in the middle of the table. It was quite big but at least it could stand up on its own. It was one large bulbous holly leaf with two oddly shaped red berries at the base. Lottie studied it. Now it looked like a giant green knob with red balls.