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

by Bella Osborne

  Father and son walked off around the house and Lottie returned her full attention to the job in hand. She just hoped everything would turn out okay.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lottie rubbed her cold hands together when she came indoors. A high-speed Duchess shot past her into the relative warmth of the hall. The cat wrapped her fluffy tail around herself and Lottie wished she had one of her own, as the cat looked at her from behind it like a belly dancer behind a veil. ‘I know, it’s cold,’ said Lottie, interpreting the cat’s glare. The new owners would have to sort out the hallway’s dodgy radiator and the poorly fitting windows, thought Lottie with a shiver.

  She was hanging up her coat when Zach came through from the back of the house with Dave at his heels. ‘Has he been?’ asked Lottie.

  ‘Nope, I swear he’s holding on to it on purpose,’ said Zach. Dave trotted off, happily wagging his tail.

  Lottie commiserated with her brother. ‘Hopefully not much longer to wait.’

  ‘What for?’ asked Emily, appearing at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Star presents! Come on,’ said Lottie, beckoning Emily down.

  ‘Okay,’ said Emily, looking a little brighter. ‘What’s a star present? Is it like a prize for the best present? Because I think whoever bought Bernard the tuna wins that one.’

  ‘Nope, you’ll see.’ Lottie ushered her through to the drawing room, where Jessie was playing with her unicorn, Joe was chatting to Scott and Bernard was snoozing in his favourite armchair.

  ‘I found this,’ said Jessie, holding up a neatly wrapped present. ‘It was under the sofa.’

  ‘Ooh, is it mine?’ Emily asked Zach hopefully. Zach shook his head.

  ‘And there’s this label for … The Duch-ess,’ said Jessie, reading it slowly. ‘I don’t know if they go together.’

  ‘Open it and see,’ said Lottie, coming to kneel by the tree.

  Jessie ripped off the paper, pulled out a CD and scrunched up her features in disappointment.

  ‘Alfie Boe. The Duchess will love this,’ said Lottie, trying to keep a straight face.

  ‘Will she?’ asked Scott, looking amazed.

  ‘No,’ said Lottie with a chuckle. ‘This must be Uncle Bernie’s and he’s got the cat’s tuna.’

  ‘Ahhh,’ said Emily, taking a seat nearby.

  ‘Star present time,’ chimed Lottie. Jessie gasped and dropped her unicorn. Emily and Scott exchanged confused looks as the rest of family became animated. ‘Right,’ said Lottie. ‘I know this may be something only the Collins family do so I’ll explain. This is a present from the star on the Christmas tree to the whole family.’

  ‘Ri-ight,’ said Scott, not sounding convinced.

  ‘But it’s a fairy,’ said Emily, looking at the tree as if to check.

  ‘But usually it’s the fancy star thing,’ said Bernard.

  ‘Nana used to do it. It’s a special present that brings us all together,’ explained Zach. ‘Like last year it was tiddlywinks. We had a real laugh playing with them.’ He seemed to ponder this. ‘I guess it was Nana’s way of getting us to stop fighting and enjoy each other’s company.’

  ‘The year it was marbles, I nearly broke my bloomin’ neck on the blessed things,’ said Bernard.

  ‘Was that 2008?’ asked Angie.

  ‘Noooo,’ said Zach. ‘2008 was Crappy Shitmas – the year we all got diarrhoea.’

  ‘That’s not a nice present. I hope it’s not that this year,’ said Scott. It was hard to tell from his expression if he was serious or not.

  ‘Do you remember the year we got Twister?’ Lottie was already laughing at the memories.

  ‘That was the funniest,’ said Angie.

  ‘I swear I strained my groin playing that,’ said Zach.

  ‘More likely it was playing with Hazel Johnson that did it,’ said Angie, with an old-fashioned look.

  Emily’s ears pricked up.

  ‘A very ex-girlfriend from uni who dumped me on Boxing Day,’ he explained. ‘I blame you lot.’ Zach jokingly pointed at Lottie and his mother.

  ‘Come on,’ pleaded Jessie, who was jiggling up and down, powered by pure excitement and anticipation.

  ‘I wonder what it is.’ Lottie gave the box a little shake and widened her eyes at the sound.

  ‘Did you buy it?’ asked Emily, her forehead puckering.

  ‘Nana used to buy it,’ said Zach, ‘but I’m guessing this year …’ He looked at Lottie.

  She shook her head. ‘No, I found it in the cupboard when I was looking for the star box.’ She held it aloft.

  ‘You mean it’s not actually from the star?’ asked Jessie, full of disappointment.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Lottie, pulling an apologetic face at Zach; he may have some explaining to do later. She read the tag. ‘To the Collins family, with love from the Star. I guess that’s really appropriate, given Nana was the real star in our family.’

  ‘And now she’s gone to be one,’ chipped in Jessie, making a lump form in Lottie’s throat.

  Lottie fixed her gaze on the present. ‘Right,’ she said, concentrating on not getting sentimental. She put the box on the floor and lifted the lid. Jessie shot forward and grabbed the first thing. ‘It’s a bicycle pump.’

  ‘No, it’s a balloon pump,’ said Zach, taking a large pack of modelling balloons out and handing Lottie a small instruction book.

  As usual, Nana had struck gold. The modelling balloons were a huge hit with everyone. It was something everybody could get involved in, and infectious laughter ensued, caused mainly by failed modelling attempts and the fact that everybody jumped each time a balloon popped. Joe was concentrating hard as he wrestled with a long pink balloon protruding from between his legs.

  ‘Oh my,’ said Angie, going all coy. ‘What are you pumping up there?’

  Joe quickly moved the balloon to under his arm. ‘It’s meant to be a flamingo,’ he said, with the briefest of looks in Lottie’s direction. It was still enough to make her heart leap. Flamingos were her absolute favourite. She loved their rich, unusual colour. It was sweet that he’d remembered. It took some effort to drag her eyes away from him.

  ‘There you go,’ said Scott, proudly handing Angie his creation.

  ‘Ooh, it’s a monkey,’ she said, taking it from him and looking genuinely pleased.

  ‘Is it a vegan monkey?’ asked Zach under his breath. Lottie gave him a playful punch.

  ‘You’re up,’ said Lottie, pointing at Dave who had trotted over to the door.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Zach, getting to his feet. Lottie followed him as far as the kitchen.

  ‘You need to say something to Emily soon. She’s really upset.’

  ‘I know. I have tried. But once I’ve got the ring back from this constipated canine everything will be sorted.’ He picked up a trowel from the utility and took it, along with his disgusted expression, into the garden.

  By the time Zach returned, Lottie was busy making cups of tea and arranging mince pies on one of Nana’s best plates. He simply shook his head as Dave raced past him into the house. ‘Here,’ said Lottie, passing him a laden tray. He took it dutifully. ‘Christmas film time,’ she added, but it didn’t seem to lift his mood.

  Zach followed her through to the drawing room. He put down the tray and people perked up. Lottie stepped over Joe, who was still tying up balloons, and offered around the mince pies. Bernard took two. Lottie drew the curtains, put on the television and sat down near the fire at a safe distance from Joe.

  After a family squabble that was worthy of their own reality show, they finally all settled down to watch Jessie’s choice of Home Alone. Lottie looked around the room at her family wearing paper hats at varying degrees of wonkiness. Dayea had a dining room chair pulled up close to Great Uncle Bernard’s armchair and they were holding hands. It was a very different sight to Aunt Nicola and Uncle Daniel, who were sitting as far away from each other as possible: him setting up his new phone and her staring intently at the instructions for her robov
ac. Angie and Scott were at least on the same sofa, but with Jessie and Dave squeezed in between them. Emily was looking forlorn and Rhys was looking bored.

  Lottie couldn’t imagine Christmas without them all. It didn’t seem right that next year they would all be scattered. Families were meant to be together, even if they wanted to murder each other – surely that was the spirit of Christmas?

  She snuck a glance at Joe, who was sitting on the floor fiddling with his flamingo, and he looked up sharply as though he’d felt her watching him. She quickly turned her gaze back to the TV. She was still drawn to him – however hard she tried to fight it.

  Bernard startled to shuffle forward in his seat. ‘You okay?’ asked Lottie.

  ‘Just need my inhaler,’ he said, rubbing his chest.

  ‘I will get it,’ said Dayea, and she dashed from the room.

  ‘No, I’m going to the loo as well,’ he called after her, followed by a huff when she didn’t come back.

  ‘I’ll get the wheelchair,’ said Lottie, getting up.

  ‘I don’t need the blessed wheelchair – I can make it that far,’ he said, hauling himself to his feet as his knees creaked in protest. His bony hand gripped the chair tightly.

  ‘Please let me help,’ said Lottie, but he waved her away.

  ‘No, I’m no invalid.’ Lottie wished Dayea would hurry up and come back because he listened to her. He started to make slow progress, and Lottie sat down again. All eyes returned to the film.

  Bernard gasped as he fell crashing into the coffee table, shattering it and a number of cups. Everyone leaped up. He was fighting for breath. Zach lifted Jessie into his arms and exited the room while Joe took charge. Lottie could see Bernard’s leg was bleeding. Dayea came in, dropped Bernard’s inhaler to the floor and began speaking very fast in her native language and holding her face in her hands.

  ‘Dayea, can you get me clean towels, please?’ asked Joe. She hurried off still talking to herself, clearly distressed.

  ‘Shall I call an ambulance?’ asked Lottie.

  ‘Yes,’ said Joe.

  ‘No!’ said Bernard forcefully, trying to right himself.

  Joe rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘Steady, Bernard. It’s best if you lie still. I’ll try to stem the bleeding while we wait for an ambulance.’

  ‘Don’t you touch me!’ shouted Bernard uncharacteristically as he slapped Joe’s hand away.

  ‘He’s not a doctor but he’s the best we’ve got,’ said Lottie, trying to smooth the situation. A vet wasn’t going to be anyone’s first choice for human medical care, but he was better than nothing.

  Dayea came rushing in, thrust the towels at Joe and knelt next to Bernard, brushing the hair off his forehead. ‘Don’t let him touch me,’ Bernard pleaded with Dayea.

  ‘He is helping you,’ she said.

  Bernard challenged Joe with his gaze. ‘We all know what your father did, and I’m not ready to go yet.’ Joe looked shocked.

  Lottie took a deep breath. ‘Bernard, this is Joe. Not his father. He’s trying to help you.’

  Bernard mustered all his strength and stabbed a finger at Joe. ‘His father was a murderer!’

  Emily gasped and Joe turned in her direction, then back to Lottie. He handed the towels to her. ‘Use that to put pressure on the wound,’ he said, guiding her as to where to place it.

  ‘Murderer?’ Dayea’s eyes were wide with alarm. Lottie’s heart went out to Joe.

  Bernard was gasping for breath. His gaze was firmly on Joe. ‘You must have known.’

  Joe ignored Bernard and focused on Lottie. ‘More pressure, Lottie. Lean on it. Use your weight.’ Alarmingly quickly, Lottie could feel the dampness of the blood that had soaked through the towel. Joe passed her another.

  ‘Well did you?’ continued Bernard through a rasping breath.

  ‘You need to relax, Uncle Bernard,’ said Lottie. His agitation wasn’t helping.

  ‘Where’s the bloody ambulance?’ muttered Joe. On Christmas Day the Cotswolds wasn’t likely to be swarming with them. Bernard was looking pale and he began pulling pained expressions.

  ‘Bernard?’ said Joe. ‘Is it your chest?’

  Lottie didn’t like to point out that it was quite obviously his leg that was the main problem, feeling the same damp sensation as the blood made it through another towel.

  Bernard suddenly went rigid and then completely floppy. His face was an unhealthy colour.

  ‘Bernard!’ Joe raised his voice. ‘He’s not breathing.’ He put his fingers to Bernard’s neck. ‘His pulse is weak.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Lottie as Joe shunted her out of the way.

  ‘It could be a heart attack,’ said Joe. The words hit Lottie like a punch to her gut. Joe started mouth-to-mouth. The room fell silent as he worked. Bernard lay motionless. Lottie hugged Dayea to her as she sobbed silently.

  Eyes flickered to the window at the sound of a distant siren, but everyone was glued to the horror in the room as Joe worked tirelessly on Bernard’s still and pale form.

  Bernard seemed to move slightly and Joe paused to take his pulse again as the sound of the siren screamed into the driveway. ‘He’s back,’ said Joe. He sat back on his haunches. The door opened and two paramedics hurried in.

  Joe filled them in and they got to work quickly. Within minutes Bernard was in a stretcher chair being wheeled to the ambulance with Dayea clutching his hand.

  Lottie and Joe followed them out and stood on the steps. Everyone else was at the window. ‘Do you think he’ll make it?’ asked Lottie, feeling the chill through her dress. ‘Honestly,’ she added, in case he was planning on fobbing her off.

  Joe shuffled his feet. ‘A heart attack at any age is never a good thing. He’s generally not in the best of health. But he’s with the professionals now, so he has the best possible chance.’

  Lottie was grateful for a realistic view; she could manage her own expectations that way. Far better to be prepared for the worst – and hopefully be pleasantly surprised – than to be shocked, as she had been with Nana. ‘Thanks for being honest, and for everything you did back there. You saved his life.’

  ‘Anyone would have done the same.’

  ‘Maybe, but after what he said you’d be forgiven for not wanting to help him.’ She was embarrassed by Great Uncle Bernard’s outburst. The ambulance lights began to flash, followed by the sound of wheels on gravel and in another moment, it was gone.

  Joe stared at his feet. ‘He was right though. Wasn’t he? It won’t ever go away. It was always the danger of coming back here. People have long memories.’ He turned to go inside and Lottie caught his arm.

  ‘Not everyone thinks like Bernard. I know the truth.’

  ‘Do you?’ asked Joe, a deep crease appearing on his forehead. ‘Are you sure?’

  She had been sure until now.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Boxing Day

  Boxing Day dawned like the sequel to a movie Lottie wanted to forget. She actually groaned as she opened her eyes and the flashbacks of the previous day swamped her consciousness. The Duchess, who was dozing by her feet, opened an eye, gave a cursory glance around and went back to sleep. Lottie wished she could do the same. She checked the clock – it was six o’clock; too early to get up. But not too early to call the hospital and get an update on Great Uncle Bernard.

  After being passed around a few wards she was finally talking to the nurse treating Bernard.

  ‘Are you his next of kin?’ she asked.

  ‘Erm.’ Lottie knew her mother was officially his next of kin, and then it was Uncle Daniel. Neither of them had shown any major signs of emotional upset yesterday at the sight of the old man being whisked away in an ambulance. Lottie concluded that if ‘next of kin’ meant ‘the person in your family who is closest to you’ then it wasn’t that big a lie. ‘Yes. I think I am.’

  ‘He’s had a good night and he’s doing as we would expect at this stage.’

  Lottie wasn’t sure what that meant. �
��What happens next?’

  ‘We monitor him until he’s fit enough to come home.’

  ‘Wow. So he’s going to be okay then?’ A happy tear took her by surprise. She’d been expecting the worst. ‘He doesn’t need any operations or anything?’

  ‘A coronary artery spasm is usually treated with medication but that’s up to his consultant.’

  ‘Can we visit?’

  ‘Yes. Afternoons between two and four and evenings six until eight thirty.’

  Suddenly Boxing Day looked a bit brighter.

  She was still yawning as she wandered downstairs. The house was silent. There was something comforting about knowing the rest of her family was safe asleep under the one roof; they’d all be leaving tomorrow, and Christmas would never be quite the same again.

  Another thought struck her. Nothing would be quite the same now that Joe was back in Henbourne.

  Joe. Images of him flashed through her mind, culminating with the one of him tucked up on the sofa last night. Everyone had been a bit subdued and they’d attempted to take their minds off events with a round of board games. Zach and Emily had teamed up to win most of them and thankfully they seemed to have recovered from their earlier upset. After everything that had happened, she’d cracked open the brandy and she, Zach and Joe had chatted into the night. The brandy had helped to relax the tensions between her and Joe – a brief armistice. Seeing Joe save Uncle Bernard’s life had pushed the hurt to the back of her mind. Joe and Zach had drunk a fair bit and she’d ended up helping them both to bed. Zach had suggested the sofa for Joe and offered him a pair of shorts he’d been given as a present.

  Lottie wasn’t entirely sure why she felt the need to check on Joe this morning – he was a grown man, and he wasn’t hers to check on any more – but old feelings had left their mark. A quick look to check he was alive was the least she could do. Anyway Dave was in there too, and he’d need a wee by now.

  Lottie opened the drawing room door as quietly as the old hinges would allow and slunk inside, looking around furtively for Dave. She didn’t want him making an escape and going after the Duchess, who had slept soundly all night. Which, when Lottie thought about it, was unusual for her – maybe Christmas Day had worn her out too.