by Katie Fforde
‘I’ll help,’ said Matthew instantly.
‘So will I,’ said Cindy.
‘And me,’ said Abbi.
With everyone, apart from Caroline and Justin, helping, it didn’t take long for everything to be piled on to trays and carried to the kitchen. Cindy loaded the dishwasher as though she’d done it many times before; Abbi found the stripy apron and attacked the surfaces, while Jo and Matthew did everything else. Geoff and Max, having brought in the dirty dishes, went back to the dining room to carry on drinking port and nibbling at the cheese while they waited for their wives.
The kitchen wouldn’t be exactly as it should be, Jo realised, but at least when Caroline came down in the morning (possibly to make Justin coffee to have in bed) she wouldn’t feel obliged to have a screaming fit that no one could hear.
While they were all wiping and storing and stacking, Cindy said, ‘Do you guys need a lift afterwards? We’ve got our driver, so we could drop you off somewhere.’
‘Actually, I’d love a lift home,’ said Jo. ‘I’m shattered and am probably over the limit. I don’t live far away – just about ten minutes from here. I could walk it, but I’d rather not.’
‘Have your family been waiting for you to get back so they can open the presents?’ said Cindy kindly. ‘We did ours this morning.’
‘My family are in New Zealand. We’re going to have another Christmas when they get back, when we can all be together,’ said Jo. This wasn’t actually a plan, but it sounded a nice idea.
‘So, what are you doing for Boxing Day? Putting your feet up in front of the telly, with a big box of chocolates? That sounds fab!’ said Cindy. ‘I sort of wish we didn’t have to go my parents.’
‘Actually, I’ll be standing in for the regular helpers at the dogs’ charity I support,’ said Jo. ‘So the staff can have the time off.’
‘That sounds fun,’ said Matthew. ‘Can I come?’
Jo was a bit taken aback and didn’t reply immediately.
‘It would mean me staying over in this part of the world, so you might have to lend me the use of a sofa.’
She really hadn’t expected this. He’d been incredibly helpful and kind and had even flirted with her a bit, but she didn’t actually imagine Matthew would want to spend time with her. What she did know was that she definitely wanted to spend more time with him.
‘Well,’ said Jo carefully, ‘it isn’t huge, but the sofa is fairly comfy, and extra help tomorrow would be very welcome.’ She smiled quickly at him. ‘Then I can see if you can do more to help an animal charity than supply celebrities for events.’ Even though the event in question would raise an enormous amount of money.
‘Deal! Let’s call it a day here, and get our lift.’
‘OK, but we must go and say goodbye to Caroline,’ said Jo. ‘And I want to try and get her to promise that Andi will keep her job.’
‘But she’s gone upstairs and is probably making out with Justin on the sofa,’ Matthew protested.
‘Well, they can break off just for a moment, to say goodbye.’ She set off for the door and noticed Matthew wasn’t following. She stopped.
‘Really, there’s no need to do that,’ he said.
‘Yes, there is. Andi’s job is on the line.’ Jo set off briskly, anxious to get this possibly difficult task out of the way.
Matthew joined her halfway up the stairs and they entered the room together.
Caroline and Justin were indeed on the sofa but not, currently, ‘making out’, much to Jo’s relief.
‘We’ve come to say goodbye,’ said Matthew quickly. ‘But we won’t linger – we can see you and Justin want to be alone.’ He took Jo’s arm and made as if to hustle her out.
Jo stood her ground. ‘Caroline, thank you for having me.’ She decided that was appropriate – as Matthew’s girlfriend, she had received hospitality. ‘And thank you for lending me shoes and make-up.’ She cleared her throat. There was no amused smile in Caroline’s slanting eyes, and she’d been hoping for that. There had been a certain comedy in the situation, after all. ‘And will you forgive Andi, and let her keep her job?’ She nearly went on to say how much the job meant to Andi, but decided not to. Caroline was looking so frosty.
‘I don’t know,’ said Caroline thoughtfully. ‘I hate being deceived, you see. I find it rather difficult to forgive.’
‘It was only fairly minor, surely,’ protested Jo. ‘Does it really matter who cooks your Christmas dinner?’ She should have known by now that of course it mattered, but it was too late.
‘You won’t like it when you find out that you’ve been deceived, too.’
‘Come on, Caro,’ said Justin in a low voice. ‘Keep it clean.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Jo.
‘Come on, love,’ said Matthew, pulling harder on her arm. ‘Time to leave these young things alone.’
Jo didn’t move. ‘Caroline?’
‘That lovely young man you’ve snagged for yourself isn’t quite the animal-loving innocent he pretends to be. Although, to be fair, he is an animal-lover.’ Caroline was smiling now, possibly at the prospect of Jo bursting into tears.
Justin broke in. ‘Come on, woman – he swore us to secrecy!’
‘Yes,’ came voices from behind her. ‘We all promised not to say anything.’
Now Jo did feel deceived. Everyone knew something about her supposed boyfriend except her.
‘Maybe you’d better tell her, Matthew,’ Caroline said. ‘Unless you want me to?’
Jo turned to Matthew. He was looking down at her apologetically. Then he took her hands. ‘You know I promised to get you Euan Donavan to do an event, so you could raise thousands for your charity?’
‘Yes. Are you saying you can’t get him, after all?’
There was a crack of laughter from one of the men, and the girls all giggled.
‘No, I can,’ said Matthew.
‘Tell her!’ said one of the men. ‘Put the poor girl out of her misery.’
Matthew held her hands very tightly. ‘I am Euan Donavan.’
It was just as well he was holding on to her. She might have fallen over otherwise. ‘But how can you be? You don’t look anything like him.’ Then she thought about what Euan Donavan looked like. Grungy, beanie hat, meltingly gorgeous singing voice. She felt dizzy. It could be anyone under those clothes.
‘Now you know how I feel,’ said Caroline with silky triumph.
‘I don’t know how I feel,’ Jo said truthfully. What she did know was that she didn’t want to give Caroline the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. ‘Except it’s rather marvellous that my boyfriend has turned out to be famous.’
‘So,’ called someone, ‘give him a kiss, to show there’s no hard feelings.’
She caught Caroline giving her a quizzical look, as if Jo might now be daunted by his celebrity and not dare kiss him. But, of course, only Jo and Matthew knew it would be the first time they had kissed.
She reached up to him and pulled his head down to hers and kissed him firmly on the mouth. He took up the challenge, wrapped his arms round her and took charge, kissing her thoroughly and intimately and – Jo realised – knee-weakeningly.
‘I think that means you’re forgiven, mate,’ said Geoff.
Jo and Matthew exchanged looks. His expression was rueful, amused, apologetic. ‘Am I?’
‘Possibly – if you’re still up for helping out with the animals tomorrow?’ she asked. Or was that amazing kiss just part of his pretence?
He nodded. ‘I’m absolutely up for it,’ he said.
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ said Caroline, obviously put out that her big reveal had ended with a kiss, and not tears and foot-stamping. ‘Both of you, get out of my sight! You’re nauseatingly loved-up.’
‘Andi’s job?’ asked Matthew. ‘Secure?’
Caroline glanced at Justin and possibly read something in his stern expression. ‘She can keep it. Oh, and Jo, you can keep the shoes. No one with any sense of style would wear them any
more.’
‘Come on, you guys,’ said Cindy, ‘let’s find our limo and all get home. The driver needs to get back, even if we don’t.’
After the car had left them at the door of the little terraced cottage that Jo rented, Matthew said, ‘I know it’s Christmas night, but if you don’t want me to come in – let alone stay over – I can easily organise a lift.’
Jo had been worrying about bringing Matthew – Euan Donavan even – into her small and far-more-shabby-than-chic little home throughout the journey. Now she realised that if he’d taken one look at it and run, she’d have been devastated.
‘I’d like you to come in. I’m not going to offer you half my double bed, obviously, but the sofa is quite comfy.’
‘And we can snuggle up and watch a movie, before I sleep on it?’
‘Sure. I’ve got some wine.’ She put her key into the door. ‘Come in. And you can tell me why you didn’t want me to know you were famous.’
‘It’s to protect my family from all the nonsense, mostly,’ he said, following her into the little hallway. ‘And I didn’t think you were the sort of girl who’d go for …’ He hesitated, as if not knowing how to describe himself.
‘Someone who performed on the main stage at Glastonbury?’
‘You heard Abbi say that? I was so worried my cover was blown.’
‘Join the club! You’re not the only who had to spend Christmas in disguise.’
She switched on the fairy lights and the table lamps and went towards the fire. It was all laid; it just needed a match.
‘Apart from deceiving you, which I hated,’ he said, taking the matches from her and squatting down so that he could light the fire, ‘I loved it all. It was so much fun, being with you.’
‘I had fun, too.’
‘So you’ll consider being my girlfriend for real?’
She nodded. ‘If you wield your broom and bucket well, and keep up that standard of kissing …’
He laughed and took her into his arms. ‘That can only improve with practice – lots and lots of practice.’
Later, when she’d rather reluctantly left Matthew in front of the dying embers of the fire and gone up to her own bed, she got out her phone. Rather to her surprise, there was a text from Andi.
‘Hope it all went OK and you don’t want to kill me! I’ll give you a really amazing Christmas present.’
Jo texted back. ‘Don’t worry, hon, you already did. He’s about six two, dark blond hair and is currently drifting off to sleep on my sofa. Oh, BTW, his name is Euan Donavan.’ Then she found an emoticon that meant ‘very, very smug face’.
Ella waited on the doorstep hoping someone would let her in soon. It was the day before Christmas Eve and trying to snow – not, unfortunately, in a way that would turn this little corner of Scotland into a winter wonderland, but in a way that just made it cold and miserable. She loved Scotland, and this part, Crinan, was her favourite, but she had to be honest. Although she’d added many layers over her top, including a parka with a furry hood, on her bottom half she was only wearing a tutu and stripy tights, and she was freezing.
Her grandmother, Ella knew, would say she should have worn a thermal vest, to keep her kidneys warm. She thought about her grandmother now, preparing to spend Christmas with her parents, at home in Surrey. They would no doubt be talking about this mad business idea and sighing, half proud, half despairing. But they’d been doing that ever since Ella had decided she wanted to go to drama school, and even though she was now twenty-three they probably wouldn’t stop.
Ella adjusted the tiara, which kept slipping down over her eyes, knocked out of place by the parka hood, and banged on the door again. The family weren’t expecting her, but she knew it was the right address and she knew there were people inside, she could hear them. The Christmas spirit she had dug down deep to find was rapidly departing. She sighed. She had dragged two very large, very heavy suitcases behind her some little way from where she was staying, and she needed to get inside as soon as possible, before she froze to the spot.
At last the door was pulled open. A harassed-looking man glared down at her, and Ella’s first thought was that he looked all wrong. When Jenny had enlisted her services she’d given Ella the low-down on her three children and their uncle – Jenny’s brother. She’d created an idea of what sort of man he’d be and he wasn’t conforming.
He looked around thirty, not quite old enough to be an uncle, she felt, and he certainly wasn’t jolly. For an uncle (in her book, always older with dubious breath and taste in tweed jackets) he was quite attractive. He was tall, dark and OK-looking, wearing a Christmas jumper she could easily have chosen herself. Pushing her tiara back yet again, she wondered if maybe she should have left it off until she was inside.
‘Hello!’ she said as brightly as any children’s TV presenter. ‘I’m Ella. I’m your Christmas Fairy!’
If anything, Brent Christy – and it must have been him – looked even more grumpy. It made her feel like an unwelcome trick-or-treater.
‘Really?’ he said, with the upward inflection that expressed complete incredulity. ‘Is that even a thing? Well I’m sorry, I haven’t got time for anything like that now. I’ve got a house full of kids, no central heating and no Wi-Fi, so if you don’t mind—’
As he moved to shut the door again, Ella put her wellington-booted foot in the way so he couldn’t. ‘No! It’s not like that. I’m not just a passing lunatic – your sister hired me. To help you!’
It was supposed to be a surprise, but a happy one. Jenny and her husband Graham had had to leave the country to go and look after his parents, who were elderly and lived in France. Graham’s father had debilitating Parkinson’s, and when his mother had had a nasty fall only five days before Christmas there’d been no one else around to help. It was a crisis situation, and it had chosen Christmas to occur.
The children had really not wanted to go with their parents. Their grandparents’ elegant apartment was too small for the whole family. Their mother had valiantly tried to find somewhere they could all stay but it was Christmas, everywhere was closed or full.
‘It was then I had to ask Brent to step in,’ Jenny had told Ella on the phone, obviously glad to get it all off her chest. ‘And, bless him, he said he’d take the children up to Scotland, to where we were all supposed to be having Christmas. The kids are thrilled!’
But she had gone on to say that while she was touched and grateful she had felt it was a big ask for a younger brother and wanted him to have help. She had found Ella’s website during a desperate Google search, trusting there would be someone out there who could assist. And she’d been right: the Christmas Fairy.
Annoyingly, instead of throwing himself on her neck in gratitude, Brent was just disbelieving and annoyed. ‘Jenny did what?’
‘Booked you your own Christmas Fairy!’ Ella persisted. ‘She found out about me and booked me to help you through the festive season. Please can I come in?’ He didn’t appear to even begin to appreciate his sister’s generosity; Ella was getting very well paid for this gig.
He was resistant. ‘It’s really not a good time. We’ve had a very long journey, the kids are all starving and I can’t find a corkscrew.’
Ella made a ta-da gesture to the suitcases. ‘I can sort all that, if you only let me in.’ Her smile barely disguised her gritted teeth.
He shrugged, as if to say that her presence could hardly make things worse, and let her drag the first of the suitcases into the house. After the initial shock, he finally seemed to remember some of his manners, and picked up the second bulging suitcase and brought it in behind Ella.
From the outside the house was similar to the others Ella had seen dotted around Crinan, but inside it was obviously a holiday let, which stopped it being cosy. Challenge number one, thought Ella, get some Christmas spirit in here!
A little girl of about seven appeared. This must be Mia, Ella realised. She’d been given a rundown on everyone so she could spread her fairy m
agic. Although she was tempted, Ella didn’t think she should demonstrate her fairy magic by greeting her by name – that could be scary – so she just smiled. ‘I’ve brought your supper! In my suitcase. How about that?’
‘What is it?’ The little girl gave her a stare that reminded Ella how unnerving small children could be. She wished she could say it was cupcakes for dinner.
‘It’s delicious!’ She forced enthusiasm into her voice. ‘It’s boeuf bourguignon. It’s got little tiny onions, squares of bacon, mushrooms, all sorts of delicious things. And on top—’
‘I don’t like stew,’ said Mia.
Ella took a breath. ‘But don’t you like getting a big pile of mashed potato, turning it into a mountain range with your fork and making a lake for the gravy? Then arranging peas on top of the mountains to look like trees?’ She paused to give time for Mia to picture the scene. ‘Then, when you’ve done all that, you mash it all together with your fork and the potato tastes really yummy.’
She did realise that on the whole children weren’t encouraged to play with their food, but she wasn’t a parent-substitute. She was a fairy, and fairies were supposed to be subversive.
The tiniest hint of amusement lifted the corner of the un-jolly uncle’s mouth. ‘It sounds amazing,’ he said. ‘I’m Brent.’
‘And I’m Ella.’
‘Let me help you with your things.’ He paused, his hand on the handle of the heaviest case. ‘You weren’t expecting to stay the night, were you? All the bedrooms are taken.’
‘No, no,’ said Ella hastily. ‘I’m staying very nearby. Now, where’s the kitchen?’
While she was unpacking the slow cooker containing the stew, which, thank goodness, hadn’t leaked, an older girl appeared. She must have been Judith, sixteen and serious, who played the violin.
‘Who’s this, Brent?’ the girl asked.
Ella put an ice-cream container full of very buttery mashed potatoes on the counter. How would Brent describe her? He didn’t have all that much to go on. She was looking very silly: stripy tights, sagging tutu, a lopsided tiara in her damp and tangled blonde hair. But she’d been given a job and she was going to do it.