by Judy Astley
‘I suppose so. I didn’t mean to.’ His voice faded out and he went to the fridge and took out the big Stilton.
‘Did you think I was someone else?’
‘Um, not really. It was just a bit of fun. I mean, you’re – y’know – single and it’s Christmas.’
‘Fair game then, you thought?’ she said. ‘But I felt ambushed.’
‘I had mistletoe.’
‘You’ve also got my mum, for heaven’s sake. Oh, and Charlotte, no?’
‘Oh.’
‘Exactly.’ She went to the drawer and pulled out a knife, enjoying, as she shone the torch briefly into his face, Alec’s sudden look of fright.
‘It’s only to cut the cake, Alec,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to look so scared.’
‘Really?’
‘I promise.’
FIFTEEN
Well, that was an abrupt end to Christmas, Anna thought as she woke up in the pale grey dawn light of Boxing Day. She’d have thought it quite romantic, herself, given perfect circumstances, finishing the day in the candlelit sitting room after coaxing the kettle to boil on the Aga. Its heat had been almost exhausted by the day’s cooking and it hadn’t had more than a couple of hours to rally before being cut off by the power failure. ‘It won’t make any difference to it,’ Alec had declared rather bossily. ‘I was brought up with an Aga and that’s the one great thing – they’ll still be warm and working even in a power cut.’ He’d taken a lot of convincing that in this case he was wrong and it had made the mood in the kitchen a bit edgy.
‘These aren’t the days of bunging in coal and praying to it,’ Mike had told him. ‘This sort needs electricity too, you know. A spark.’
‘Oooh, it’s a stand-off.’ Charlotte had giggled, watching the two men square up to each other on the technical details. ‘It’s you they’re really fighting over, Anna.’
Anna, now rolling over and snuggling close to the warm naked back of Mike, would have had to be a saint not to feel a bit pleased at that comment, however throwaway and possibly untrue it had been. So there’d been half-brewed tea for her and Emily and Thea, and more wine with cake and some of Alec’s Stilton for the rest of them, and Sam had read to them from Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales until they were all dropping off to sleep and called it a night. There’d been some awkward shuffling around where they all failed to work out the etiquette for kissing goodnight (Charlotte hugged Anna, Anna kissed Jimi and Thea), until Mike grumpily stated that he didn’t need a night-night kiss and that next they’d be wanting a chapter or two of Winnie the Pooh.
Anna had been the last one to go up to bed, lit by the torch in her phone which was possibly not a good idea as it would use up the battery very fast and there’d be no way of recharging it. As it was, she’d been getting into bed and the text message signal had pinged, showing a Good night, Happy Christmas message from Alec. Oh Alec, she thought now as she rolled back to her own side of the bed. What was she going to do about him – and had she given him a terrible Christmas? But you couldn’t get it right for everyone in a big party and he’d known all along that it was a risk to come and stay. But she didn’t like to think of him that last night, getting into bed alone and sending her that poignant little message. Surely he couldn’t have been hoping that she’d join him?
Mike had fallen asleep almost immediately as they’d got into bed. There’d been no suggestion of a repetition of the previous night’s activities and Anna had been surprised to find she was mildly disappointed. On the other hand, he wouldn’t have noticed if she’d crept out and gone along the corridor to Alec’s room – not that she would have done. The thought now filled her with – not revulsion, not at all – but a sense of nothingness in terms of attraction, and she felt a bit guilty about that. Only a couple of weeks ago she’d found him irresistible. But then, just as she was lying there with her eyes wide open, feeling bad about Alec, she remembered how he’d been giggling with Charlotte, the unthinking comments about ‘over-sixties’, and she pulled herself together and became more resolute. What Alec needed was someone his own age to play with. And in Charlotte, he’d quite possibly found her.
Woody was still on Thea’s bed where he’d spent the whole night, stretched out alongside her and breathing evenly and slowly, snoring slightly now and then. There’d been no sign of life from the Stables late last night, so clearly Sean had stayed overnight at Paul’s. She was glad and not glad. Obviously she wouldn’t have wanted him to risk a horridly frozen death by skiing home alone in the night across goodness knows how many miles of icy roads, woods and/or fields, especially as even the few streetlights there were through the village would be out of action with the power cut. But at the same time, she realized she was really quite envious of Paul. Truly, she’d be glad to get back to her own home now, because having feelings for a man who was not only already in a relationship but also with someone who happened to be of the opposite sex to her was the behaviour of the most desperate kind of singleton. And she wasn’t desperate. The words ‘you can’t help who you fall for’ came to mind but she pushed them out of her brain. You might not be able to help it in theory, but please, she thought, let her have the common sense not to make the object of her desire some gay bloke she barely knew. It was true maiden aunt territory, this, and she was way too young to turn into the old-fashioned version of that. If she ever told him about it, Sean would probably find it pretty damn funny, but geography being what it was, she might well never see him again after a couple of days from now.
She stroked Woody’s flank and he stretched out his front legs, flexed his claws and gave a long sleepy purr. It had been a risk, letting him stay with her through the night, but she didn’t like to think of him all alone in the Stables with no heating and no Sean. If he’d wanted to go out in the night, she had a little torch on her keyring to light her way down the stairs, but he’d stayed put.
It was nearly light but she thought about staying in the cosiness of her bed for a bit longer so she wouldn’t have to face Alec. It made her feel almost queasy, the idea that he didn’t think twice about the mother/daughter scenario. Still, he’d apologized and probably thought she was a prissy little twit. Better, though, than assuming she’d be grateful for the attention.
She turned over and flicked the bedside light on just to see if they’d got the power back. They had. Phew, that was a piece of unexpected luck. It must have been just a local blip rather than a full-scale wire-down, which might have taken days to fix, or even the weeks that Emily had panicked about. For a few minutes, she cuddled back under the duvet and shut her eyes, but she was past sleep. On her organizing list she’d scheduled a barbecue on the beach for everyone at lunchtime today. When she’d drawn up the list she’d had the kind of reasonably balmy (if often wet) midwinter Cornwall weather in mind, nothing like the snow and ice that they’d got, and if the power was going to be unreliable then the pair of disposable barbecues she’d brought with her would be brilliantly useful. Perhaps they should save them in case they were really needed. On the other hand, getting out of the house would be a welcome relief, if only for the hour or so they’d be able to cope with the cold. Or maybe a ramble through the snowy woods would be a better idea. She could show the children the beginnings of the new buds on the trees, just as she would on a school nature walk. Perhaps they’d do that in the afternoon, just her and the children, which would give Emily and Sam some time on their own.
Woody opened his eyes and sat up, yawned and stared at Thea.
‘Do you want to go out?’ she asked him, half-expecting a verbal answer. He seemed quite a communicative cat. Sean had said that Siamese like to keep a noisy running commentary going. He slowly blinked at her and she did the same back to him then got out of bed and went to see if there was any hot water so she could quickly shower before getting dressed and taking him across to the Stables for his breakfast. Amazingly, the water ran hot – so the power must have come back on reasonably fast – and she opened the new Cowshe
d shower gel called Knackered Cow. Rosie, who had given it to her for Christmas, had said it seemed appropriate for an overworked teacher but hadn’t offered any explanation as to why she’d given Emily the one named Grumpy Cow. Thea lavished it over her body, giving her hair a quick wash as well.
She felt almost elated as she dressed in jeans and her favourite floppy turquoise sweater and realized then how much she’d been dreading Christmas Day. It was so good to have it over and done with! Of course, she knew that the due date for a baby’s birth isn’t set in stone and hers could well have hung on till many days later, but all the same, she did feel very new-startish now that the date was past and the whole episode could fade into something that had been sad but was over and simply hadn’t been meant to happen.
With her hair still wet and roughly flicked into place, Thea put on her boots and a scarf, grabbed Sean’s door key and bounced down the back stairs with Woody alongside. He was miaowing now and looking keen to get out.
‘Whose is that, d’you reckon?’ Jimi was outside the back door, having an early cigarette. He pointed to where the cars were parked. Alongside Mike’s Sierra stood a big scarlet tractor with a scoop attachment on the front.
‘No idea. Someone who’s come to clear the snow from the road?’
‘Maybe,’ Jimi said. ‘Whoever they are, they’re not in the house, I don’t think. Could be lurking somewhere, though, I suppose.’
‘Maybe Charlotte sneaked out in the night and made a new friend,’ Thea couldn’t resist saying.
‘Nothing about that one would surprise me,’ he said, chuckling at the idea. ‘She’s quite a piece of work, isn’t she?’
‘She’s OK, though, I think.’
‘Oh yes, I don’t not like her. She’s got a lot of oomph. Don’t see her as our new stepmother, though, do you?’
Thea laughed. ‘Stepmother? Do you really think it would have come to that?’ It hadn’t crossed her mind, the idea that after her parents divorced, they could remarry. Of course, they easily might.
‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t suppose they were splitting up just so they could rush into the same old thing all over again. But who knows?’ He stubbed out his cigarette, only half-smoked – his version of cutting back – against the wall and opened the door to go back inside. ‘Whoever they end up with, if anyone, I’d put folding money on it not being either of these two house-guests.’
Thea went across to Sean’s front door and put the key in the lock, only to have the door opened abruptly from the other side and Paul to greet her with ‘Well, good morning! The Elf returns.’ Paul was looking strangely glamorous for such an early hour, with his George Clooney-perfect hair and a dark blue velvet jacket over a soft and flannelly-looking pink shirt.
‘Oh! Sorry – I just came to feed the cat. I assume Sean is back then.’
‘Yes, we’re both here. Coffee?’
‘Well, I don’t want to get in the way …’
‘No, no – come in,’ he insisted, holding the door wider and flashing a lime-green lining to the jacket. ‘You’re very welcome, and if we argue on the doorstep all the warmth will slide out again.’
Thea went inside and Woody rushed to the kitchen and sat on the floor looking up at the cupboard where Sean had told her the cat food was kept.
‘We heard about the power cut so we dashed over here first thing to see if you needed anything, but by the time we got here the power was magically returned to us,’ Paul said, filling the kettle. ‘Sean felt very bad about leaving you all to it and was all for whirling back here at midnight on his skis like that old Cadbury’s Milk Tray advert.’ He looked a bit dreamy. ‘That was one of my first. I was a mere infant, Assistant Art Director on a supposedly ironic version of that advert.’
‘Ah, so that’s where your background in design came from?’
‘Yes. Though on that day I wasn’t really up to speed. I remember being told off for getting the wrong type of rope for the actor to swing on through the window. It was the beginning of learning about how much detail matters.’
The door at the far side of the sitting room opened just then and Sean came in, wearing only a large white towel round his waist and rubbing at his wet hair with another one. Thea’s heart rate went up a fair bit and she told herself not to be so ridiculous. All the same, whichever bus he was on, his naked and still tanned torso was a pretty gorgeous sight.
‘Oh – hi, Thea!’ he said. ‘Happy Boxing Day. Er, sorry, just fresh out of the shower. Maybe I should, um …’
‘I’m sure the lady has seen the odd half-dressed chap before,’ Paul said, then turned to her. ‘Or have you, m’dear? But maybe you should put something on, Sean, love. You might catch a chill.’
‘Shall I feed Woody?’ Thea asked as Sean started back towards the bedroom. She felt a bit flustered, as if she’d almost caught the two of them in flagrante, and needed something to do. It was such a sweet domestic scene of coupledom and she wished she didn’t feel so sneakily – and pointlessly – envious.
‘Oh, would you mind? Thanks,’ Sean said. ‘Paul doesn’t do cats so it’s no good me asking him. I won’t be a sec. I hope he’s making you some coffee?’
‘You like him, don’t you?’ Paul suddenly said very quietly as she was opening the cupboard and pulling out a sachet of Sheba.
Thea felt caught out, embarrassed and rather ashamed, as if she’d been rumbled actually planning to steal someone else’s partner. What was Paul about to do? Give her a firm warning to back off? She decided to prevaricate a bit, try to get some composure back. ‘Of course! Woody’s a very friendly cat. What’s not to like?’
She bent to pour the horribly smelly cat food into Woody’s bowl. He was pushing at her hand, purring.
‘Here you go, puss. Enjoy that.’
Paul laughed and clapped, then handed her a cup of coffee, saying, ‘Well played, Elf, but you know I wasn’t talking about the cat. I meant Sean. You have a fondness, there. I could see it.’
He didn’t sound hostile about this at all, but then why would he? She was hardly a rival. Possibly he was even laughing at her.
‘He’s great, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But just as a friend, sort of thing. Well, obviously. I mean – I know and he’d know that anything else really wouldn’t be an option, would it? And even if I – er, well, there are clearly other considerations. Sorry, I’m waffling.’
Paul laughed again. ‘Ah, right – I see. As I’d thought. Well, there you go. Life throws some oddnesses at us all, doesn’t it?’
‘Now and then, yes.’ She gulped at the coffee and burned her tongue, but she wanted to finish it fast and get out of there, preferably before Sean came back. Paul was obviously in a playful mood and she wouldn’t put it past him to throw an arm round Sean and tell him that she had an almighty crush on him and wasn’t it hilarious. Oh, how they’d laugh.
‘I’d better get back. I’ll go and have some breakfast and check what we’re all doing today,’ she said, putting her cup in the sink. Too late. Sean came back, fully dressed and tousling his damp curls into place.
Paul reached out and flicked at the front of his hair, saying, ‘That’s better. It was all over the shop.’
Sean quickly side-stepped before Paul could arrange any more. ‘It’s only hair, mate.’ He pushed it back to where it had been and gave Thea a grin.
‘All décor needs arranging, even if it’s about one’s own person,’ Paul insisted. ‘And Elf, whatever it is you’re planning to do today, I wouldn’t try venturing beyond the beach or the pub, and certainly not in a car. The road is still pretty bad. It may thaw later, though.’
‘We thought we’d barbecue some sausages down on the beach at about lunchtime,’ she said, ‘so if either or both of you want to come, there’s plenty.’
‘No cold turkey?’ Paul said, giving her a sly glance from behind Sean.
‘Not so far, no,’ she told him. ‘I’ll maybe see you both later.’
‘Not me, sweetie,’ Paul said. ‘But thank you
for the invitation. I have to get back to the ancestral homestead in my trusty tractor.’
‘The tractor is yours?’ she said as she was just about to open the door. ‘You don’t exactly—’
‘Look dressed for the part?’ he supplied. ‘I do have with me a hideous mud-coloured jacket to put over this lot’ – he stroked the soft velvet nap of the jacket – ‘which is on loan from my aged father. Just because everyone connected with the agricultural milieu wears clothes the colour of manure, it doesn’t mean we can’t be sartorially glorious beneath them. Enjoy your barbecue, my dear, and think of me in the warm with my roast pheasant and some perfectly chambréd Burgundy.’
‘Sorry about him,’ Sean apologized well within Paul’s hearing as he saw Thea out through the door. ‘I might well rock up on the beach later, if that’s OK?’
‘Of course it is,’ she told him. ‘No pheasant for you then?’
‘God, no. Enough’s enough over at their gaff. It’s a fabulous place and they’re great folks, but it’s all a bit formal. They are more sherry in a schooner than beer in a bottle, sort of thing. I know which one of those I am. And thanks for taking care of Woody. He wasn’t here when I got back so I assume he slept with you?’
‘He did,’ Thea informed him as she stepped out into the cold.
Sean’s eyes were sparkly with mirth. ‘That must have been very nice for him.’
‘It was nice for me too.’
‘Well, good. A mutually happy night then.’
Thea laughed. ‘About as good as it gets for a maiden aunt, yes.’
‘So, mistletoe …’ Elmo was asking as Thea went into the kitchen. ‘Is it only, like for before Christmas – or can you still use it after?’
‘“Use” it?’ Rosie asked her son. ‘What do you mean? Use it for what?’
Elmo blushed and took another huge bite of toast and marmalade, gazing at the table.