by Judy Astley
Charlotte giggled. ‘Is your car outside?’
‘Car? No, Anna’s got it. But it’s only about half a mile, not far.’
Charlotte looked at her feet. The heels on her boots weren’t as high as some shoes he’d seen her totter about in but they were pretty spindly. ‘As Kirsty MacColl so brilliantly put it: “In these shoes? I don’t think so”.’
‘Ah. Don’t you have anything more sensible?’ He glanced at the blue case.
‘More sensible? Darling, I thought you knew me better than that. I can walk perfectly well in these but the snow will ruin them and they weren’t cheap. Prada sale.’
Some negotiation with the bar staff followed and ten minutes later, the two of them were out in the snow, Charlotte’s legs up to the knee neatly tied into black bin bags with string criss-crossed all the way up, like, Mike thought, a pair of ribboned espadrilles that Anna had once owned.
‘I’ll have to do high steps like a show pony,’ she sniggered and staggered a bit as they started out down the lane. ‘But look at everything.’ She waved her arm, encompassing the snowy view, and almost slipped over, then hung on to Mike who was towing the case. ‘This snow and the view and the country stuff. It’s all so purrty.’
Oh dear lord, he thought. What the hell were the others going to make of her?
The snow had stopped but as Jimi pointed out on the way to the church, the sky was still full of it. The air was calm and silent, broken only by the occasional powdery whoosh of snow falling from overhead branches.
‘It’ll start again soon and it’ll be halfway up the hedge in the morning,’ Emily said, trailing her gloved finger along a drystone wall.
‘Cool,’ Elmo said. ‘Sledgin’.’
The little ones were already on theirs, being pulled along by Sam and Jimi. ‘Faster!’ Milly demanded every few minutes and Sam ran up the lane with her, stopping till the others caught up. Alfie was more cautious, Thea noticed, holding on tight to the sides of the sledge and looking nervous about the chance of falling off whereas Milly loved to hurtle along, fearless and uncaring when it bounced over stones hidden beneath the snow.
What would a child of mine have been like? Thea suddenly wondered. Brave or scared? Reckless or careful? She watched a robin hopping along a fallen oak, leaving tiny, perfect tracks, and she tried hard to concentrate on watching it. Then Milly shrieked as she fell off the sledge and rolled in the snow, laughing. The robin flew away and Emily started a telling-off and a warning about getting too cold and wet and spoiling her coat. Thea couldn’t interrupt and tell her it didn’t matter: undermining a mother was beyond the remit of the fondest aunt. But she did sympathize with Milly, who went into a sulk and now trudged along, pulling the sledge rather than riding on it, and staying well away from her mother. Thea caught up with her and offered to pull the sledge for her. The child looked up at her, eyes a bit teary, and she took hold of her hand.
The church was filling up fast. ‘Lots of fathers,’ Rosie pointed out. ‘Probably been sent to get the kids out of the way. A woman’s work, and all that. Where is feminism?’
‘If it’s got any sense, it’s at home, lying on the sofa with a mince pie and watching Kind Hearts and Coronets,’ Jimi said.
‘Are you kidding? It’s probably up to here in turkey giblets and wishing its mother-in-law wouldn’t keep saying, “Oh, I wouldn’t do it like that”.’
The church was tiny and lit by candles. A crib that must have been used for a good fifty years had been set up below the pulpit, and as children arrived they were each handed a toy animal and told to take care of it for later because these were going to be put on the crib to be with the Baby Jesus. Milly had a sheep and Alfie was given a donkey. Thea looked at Emily, who made a worried face. ‘And they expect to get them back?’ she whispered.
‘It’ll be fine, don’t worry so much.’ If Thea could give her sister one perfect gift for Christmas, it would be a less doomy outlook. She’d got everything she could possibly want, hadn’t she? Why waste the joy by looking for so many downsides. Here, surrounded by small children, Thea felt much as she did at work: how lucky were these parents.
She felt in her pocket to check she’d got tissues because, sure enough, as the solo choirboy sang the first notes of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’, she felt her tear ducts prickling.
There were footprints in the snow all leading outwards, not back, so that meant they were all still out; that was the upside. But the Sierra was in the driveway – parked at an angle that suggested a bit of a slide on the ice – so Anna was here, presumably with this Alec person, and that was a bit of a downside. Mike could have done with putting off the tricky Charlotte-meet-my-wife moment a bit longer.
‘We’re here,’ he said, opening the door and realizing his statement was ludicrous.
‘I thought we might be. The key and door thing was a bit of a giveaway.’ Charlotte had slurred a bit on ‘was’ and Mike could see she was quite drunk. Perhaps that glass of wine she’d been drinking when he arrived hadn’t actually been the first.
‘Anna? Are you here?’ he called from the hallway, hoping fervently that Charlotte wouldn’t look up and see that massive mad bunch of mistletoe. The last thing he wanted was for Anna to come out and find them in a clinch. She’d never believe it wasn’t his fault.
‘In the kitchen!’ Anna called. ‘Er, Alec’s arrived.’
Mike pulled Charlotte after him towards the kitchen. Might as well get this over with.
Anna was stuffing the turkey. Alec was sitting at the table with a mince pie and a beer. He stood up as Mike came in.
‘Oh!’ Anna said in surprise as she turned to greet him. ‘I assume you’re—’
‘Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Anna,’ Mike said, adding, ‘My wife.’
‘I can’t shake hands, sorry,’ Anna said. ‘I’m covered in stuffing.’ She looked at Mike, who felt a blast of hostility. ‘And this is Alec. Alec, this is Mike. My soon-to-be-ex-husband.’
Charlotte giggled. ‘My mother would say this is all terribly modern.’
‘And will you be seeing her this Christmas?’ Anna asked with a certain crispness. Mike felt nervous. Anna’s tone didn’t bode well.
‘I doubt it, unless I get run over by a bus. She’s probably on a cloud somewhere, enjoying a spliff with Elvis Presley. She won’t want to be interrupted by me.’
‘Oh. Sorry.’
‘Er, bit awkward, Annie.’ Mike started peeling off his scarf. ‘Thing is, Charlotte’s been let down by the friend she was supposed to be visiting, so she hasn’t got anywhere to stay. I thought perhaps as …’ He looked across at Alec, who took a large gulp of beer in the manner of someone who suddenly needs courage.
‘So I said she could stay here. After all,’ Mike laughed abruptly, ‘what’s one more?’
‘It’s fine,’ Anna said, her tone sharp and precise.
‘Really? Oh, you are sooo kind!’ Charlotte hurtled forwards and flung her arms round Anna. ‘I know we’re going to get on brilliantly. Now,’ she turned to Mike, ‘show me our room, darling? And where is the loo? I’m desperate.’
‘I’ll show you where the downstairs loo is,’ Alec volunteered, giving Mike a nervy look. ‘It’s through here.’
‘“Our” room?’ Anna shoved a spoonful of stuffing very forcefully into the turkey and Mike winced.
‘No, not “our” room. Definitely not. I never even suggested it.’
‘I bet she did, though. And why has she got bin bags on her feet?’
‘Prada boots. Snow,’ he said, shrugging.
Anna glanced up, her eyes (at last) amused. ‘Oh, Prada boots. Well, excuse me for asking. At least there’s a rack of spare wellies she can take her pick from in the boot room. Practical, if not Prada.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. There wasn’t anything else I could do. I could hardly leave her there all alone at the pub, could I?’
‘She’d have got by,’ Anna said grimly. ‘That sort always do.’
‘Your Alec seems
a bit wet,’ Mike retaliated. ‘And young.’
‘He is both,’ Anna agreed. ‘But that’s all right. We can’t all be blowsy and raucous.’
‘She’s OK when you get to know her,’ Mike said.
‘So where is she going to sleep, if not with you? There’s only one spare bed and that’s in Elmo’s room. We can hardly inflict her on him.’
‘Maybe we could inflict your Alec? No – not a good idea, come to think about it. Definitely not fair on Elmo and probably illegal or something. That just leaves one option, realistically.’
‘Does it?’ Anna started layering rashers of bacon across the top of the turkey, slapping them on briskly. Mike wished he too had something to do. Anna seemed to have the upper hand while she was occupied.
‘Yes. I could move into your room. Charlotte can have mine. Simple.’
At last she stopped decorating the turkey and turned to face him. ‘Simple? Hardly. We don’t do that any more, remember?’
‘We wouldn’t be “doing” anything. Oh, come on, Annie, it’s just a room-share, nothing more.’
‘Definitely nothing more – you’ve got that in one. I’ve got used to my space. I don’t see why I should have to give it up just because you’ve imported your … floozie to spread her substantial self out all over the place.’
‘OK, I’ll sleep with her then,’ Mike said, shrugging. ‘Seeing as you’re practically insisting on it.’
Anna rinsed her hands under the tap and turned to look at him, silent for a few considering moments. ‘Ah. Well, when you put it like that …’ she said at last. ‘Maybe you coming in with me is the most practical solution, bar you sleeping on the sofa which would make the place all untidy. And it looks like we’re stuck with the bloody woman now. But as you said, it’s just a room-share. Definitely nothing more.’
‘Nothing more, I promise.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’ve probably forgotten how to anyway. After nearly a year.’
Charlotte and Alec came back in and Anna said in a half-whisper to Mike while looking at Charlotte, ‘A year? Now that I very much doubt.’
TEN
‘So who is she?’ Emily cornered Thea in the sitting room and pointed towards the kitchen from which the sound of shrieky laughter was coming.
Thea shrugged. ‘Friend of Dad’s, is all I know. She’s the one who sorted out putting the old home movies onto DVD.’
‘But does that mean she gets to stay for Christmas? How come?’
‘No idea, other than that she got marooned by the snow when she was supposed to be staying with a mate. But there are plenty of us here so she’s quite diluted. She seems fun.’ Thea felt quite cheered by Charlotte’s presence. She appeared so resolutely unfazed by the situation, so completely taking for granted that you made the very jolliest best of a mishap. It made such a change from the rest of the family, who were determinedly not talking about the impending divorce but whispering in corners about their parents and their intentions. Much as she and Emily were doing right now. On the other hand, who were they to confront their parents about their personal lives? It would be excruciating enough the other way round, but who’d want to ask their pension-age parents what on earth they thought they were playing at, as if they were under-age teenagers?
‘Dad’s surely not been sleeping with her,’ Emily said. ‘Do you think he has? And Mum with that Alec person? Please tell me no.’ Her face was showing absolute horror at the idea.
‘Well, they might have been. I expect so. They’re all grown-ups and – as they keep telling us – free,’ Thea replied. ‘But it’s not really for us to speculate, is it? Their own business and all that. And anyway, does it matter?’
‘Oh, Tee, sometimes you’re just so damn annoying. Why can’t we speculate? These are our parents – of course it matters. It would be gross. Surely you don’t want them to just—’
‘Have a good time? Yes, I do want them to. And what’s gross about it? They’re the ones who’ve decided life’s too short not to, and they should know, so why not let them get on with it?’
‘I wasn’t going to say anything about them having a good time but, come on, Thea, there are some things I think we really don’t want in our faces, aren’t there? I was going to say they need their heads banging together and that we mustn’t give up on them getting back together. Can you imagine what it’ll be like? They’ll each be living alone and being stubbornly lonely but pretending they’re not. And then suddenly they’ll be ten years older and wishing they’d never split up, but one of them will be with someone else by then and the other won’t. We’ll be whizzing back and forth between the two of them, and we’ll all get together on birthdays and make out everything’s just the same, but it won’t be, however much they pretend it’s all so civilized and Scandinavian, as if that makes a difference. And now they’ve brought in a couple of bloody strangers – and that is going to distract them from the big family-bonding thing that we’re all supposed to be here for. I think they’ve done it on purpose. I bet they planned this the whole time. They wanted us to meet their new people and decided this was the way to do it. Sneaky.’
Thea felt weary, tired from all the cooking and the emotional carol service, the trudging through snow (on the way back mostly carrying Alfie) and from simply being relentlessly upbeat. It was like trying to keep a reluctant fire lit in her head the whole time, one that was supposed to warm her spirits and stop her thinking about what might have been. But the closer they came to Christmas Day, the harder it was not to think about what should have been happening instead of giving her full attention to this strange house-party. She told herself to get a grip – there was nothing she could change.
‘Oh, come on, Em, it’s not the end of the world. And it’s only for a few days. Can’t you just make the best of it? Everyone else is. Let’s just play nicely.’
‘Mummy?’ Alfie came into the room carrying his Christmas stocking. ‘Can we hang our stockings up now? Is it time?’
‘After tea, sweetie. You and Milly are having yours in a minute and then it’s storytime and early bed.’
‘Ohhh!’ Alfie protested, stamping his foot. ‘I want to do it now. And so does Milly.’ His face went into pre-wailing expression, starting to crumple.
Emily frowned. ‘But we always do it just before bed. You know that, silly.’ Alfie pouted and slumped down on the fireside rug, hugging the red felt stocking close to him. He was heading for a major sulk.
Thea felt irritated. What difference did an hour or so make?
‘Oh, let them hang them up, Em,’ she snapped, ‘if it makes them happy. I mean, why not?’
‘Because this is how we do it, Thea,’ Emily said. ‘But of course now you’ve gone and said it, I suppose they’ll have to, won’t they? Otherwise there’ll be tears. And we don’t want that at Christmas, do we?’
‘Sorry, Emily. Tell you what, I’ll just butt right out of it. I really thought it wouldn’t matter. Am I allowed to take Alfie into the kitchen to get a mince pie to leave out for Santa, or is that interfering as well?’ She was being horrid and she knew it. Alfie gazed up at his mother and then at Thea, big-eyed and confused. Thea felt ashamed. She had no excuse apart from sheer envy. Emily, though – did she ever stop to think just how lucky she was? Why did she so rarely seem to celebrate the utter delight of her fabulous children? She seemed to find it all such hard work and so difficult simply to enjoy them. But then what would Thea know? As that neighbour at the Over-the-Roads’ party had so kindly pointed out, she might be a teacher spending hours every day with small children, but it wasn’t (apparently) anything remotely comparable to being a mother.
‘No. Just leave it, Tee. I’ll get Milly and Sam and we’ll do the stockings and the mince pie and carrot ritual all together. As a family. While we still can, before Sam and I go nuts and end up as barking as Mum and Dad are,’ Emily snarled at Thea. ‘And frankly, you need to lighten up. I saw you going all weedy teary at the carol service.’ She smirked at Thea. ‘Sam would say he knows what you need
.’
‘Would he? Oh, thanks for that, Emily. Is that how you sort everything out in your house? A good seeing-to? Well, fucking lucky you.’
She stamped out of the room and into the kitchen where Charlotte, wearing three tied-together tea towels as an apron, was cutting crosses into the bases of sprouts and singing a jazzy version of ‘Away in a Manger’. She had a large glass of red wine on the worktop beside her.
‘Hello, petal, I hope I’m doing this right,’ she said, waving the knife at Thea. ‘I’m just trying to be useful, work my passage kind-of-thing.’
‘Looks fine to me. That’s quite a mountain of them you’ve got there. Do you want some help?’ Thea felt shaky. Was Emily right? Had she been moping? She’d tried hard not to.
‘Oh no, I’ll do it. I don’t mind. When you live on your own it’s great now and then to be part of a big party. Especially as it’s so unexpected.’ She grinned at Thea. ‘I’ve had a couple of your mince pies – just to soak up the wine – and pretty damn fab they are too.’
‘That’s what I’ve come for,’ Thea said, fervently hoping there were enough left. ‘I’m just nipping out to see someone with them.’
Charlotte’s eyes sparkled. ‘Ooh, a man?’
‘Yes, a man.’
‘Where did you find one round here? The one I fancy is apparently going to be sleeping with his wife. I might need to make other arrangements.’ She winked at Thea.
Thea laughed, enjoying Charlotte’s up-front frankness. She also wished Emily had heard. It would be wicked fun to see her appalled face.
‘Well, you wouldn’t have any better luck with the one I’m seeing. Sadly for me, he’s on the other bus.’
Charlotte put down the knife and gave Thea a sympathy hug. ‘Oh, darling, isn’t it always the way, and if a gorgeous thing like you can’t turn him … Still, always some little hiccup. But never mind, have a lovely time anyway. And you can’t beat a nice gay man friend; every girl needs one. It’s like a brother without the added hassle of family. Oops! I shouldn’t have said that, should I? Not now that I’m in the middle of yours.’