Claude's Christmas Adventure

by Sophie Pembroke

  Jack must have thought so, too, because he sat down at the table, saying, ‘Well, in that case … Thank you.’

  I had just wolfed down the rest of my gingerbread, when something occurred to me. Kathleen had said ‘hamper’. Wasn’t that the word Daisy had used to describe the box of interesting smells that morning? That had definitely had a lot more than just mince pies and gingerbread in it.

  Which meant that, somewhere in the kitchen, there had to be all sorts of other interesting foods, waiting to be eaten. And maybe, if Jack and I stayed long enough, Kathleen would let me sample them, too …

  Getting the whole family back into the car and off the ferry in France wasn’t any easier than it had been getting them on in the first place.

  Bella had checked in with the Find Claude campaign just before they docked though, and while there wasn’t much there yet, they had received one message from an older teenager who lived on Maple Drive, who said she’d seen Claude chasing a cat earlier in the day, before she saw the page.

  ‘She’s out shopping now,’ Bella had reported, as she shut down the computer again. ‘But she’ll keep an eye out when she gets home.’

  ‘At least we know he was okay this morning,’ Daisy had said, sighing with relief. ‘We’ll just have to hope for another sighting soon.’

  ‘Of course, this would be a lot easier to monitor if I had my phone …’

  But in all the chaos of getting off the ferry, Daisy still hadn’t managed to find the key to the vanity case. And now they were safely in France, it seemed her parents hadn’t even managed to make it out to meet them.

  ‘Where did you arrange to meet them?’ Oliver asked, surveying Caen’s busy port.

  ‘Well, we didn’t. Not exactly,’ Daisy admitted. She’d just assumed they’d be there, waiting to greet them. After all, it was their fault they’d come this far in the first place.

  Oliver sighed. ‘Do you have their French mobile numbers?’

  ‘Only on my phone.’ She remembered the receipt she’d found in her purse earlier. ‘But I do have the number of the chateau.’

  ‘Which we can’t call, because we have no phones,’ Bella pointed out. Again.

  ‘Besides,’ Oliver added, ‘They’re supposed to be here.’

  But they weren’t. Even Daisy could admit that, now the crowd was thinning out.

  ‘There’s a pay phone,’ she said, spotting one across the way, and praying it took credit cards. Her head was pounding. Why couldn’t anything just be simple for once? ‘I’ll give it a go. You stay here with the kids.’

  ‘Daisy, darling!’ Her mother’s voice sounded the same as always; part distracted, part lovingly disappointed. ‘Where are you? We expected you hours ago.’

  Why? Daisy wondered. She’d given them the ferry times. She supposed they had written them down wrong. Or not written them down at all. Either was equally likely.

  Once they’d got Jay’s birthday wrong for three years in a row, thanks to a stubborn insistence that their calendar knew better than Daisy did when her own son was born.

  ‘We’ve only just got the car off the ferry,’ she said, knowing it wasn’t worth arguing with her. Mum believed her own version of reality with a ferocity that defied all logic. ‘I thought you were coming to meet us?’

  ‘Well, it’s just as well we didn’t! Imagine how long we’d have had to wait.’

  Right. Of course.

  Daisy sighed, and rubbed her temples with her free hand. ‘Look, we’re here now. Can you give me some instructions on how to reach you?’

  ‘Why not just use that fancy phone of Oliver’s to find us?’ Mum asked. ‘He’s always saying how it can do anything.’

  Including playing mindless games and avoiding conversation with his family. ‘We’re having a technology-free Christmas,’ Daisy informed her. That sounded much better than ‘I accidentally locked all our phones and tablets in a case and lost the key.’ Surely the key had to be somewhere. It would show up when she unpacked, Daisy was certain.

  ‘I’ll get your father,’ Mum said, and dropped the phone before Daisy could object.

  The last thing she wanted was her father’s idea of helpful directions.

  ‘Hello, my angel!’ Dad sounded unnaturally jovial, so Daisy assumed gin and tonic hour had started a little earlier than normal this festive season. ‘You made it to our fair country, then! Sorry we couldn’t come and meet you. There was an issue with the range cooker your mother insisted on. Also, my latest nemesis – a collared dove who seems to think our kitchen is its new palace.’

  ‘I thought she’d just written the time down wrong,’ Daisy admitted, ignoring the part about the bird.

  ‘Oh, she’d done that too. The calendar says you should have been here six hours ago.’

  ‘The calendar is, once again, wrong.’ Really, was it a surprise she was so unable to keep her own life in order? Look what she was descended from.

  ‘It usually is.’ There was a rustling noise at the other end, which Daisy knew from experience was her father organising his map collection. ‘Now, you need directions, correct?’

  ‘Yes. But Dad, just the simplest, most basic ones you can manage, please.’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘Great.’ Daisy pulled a leaky pen and an old receipt out of her bag and proceeded to take notes.

  ‘Now, the thing you need to understand about French roads, is that there’s always at least two ways of doing things. The way everyone else goes, and the best way. I’m going to tell you the best way.’

  Oh God. Daisy rested her head against the plastic surround of the pay phone, and resigned herself to being lost for the next several hours.

  Ten minutes later, with a series of scrawled instructions in hand, she hung up, and headed back towards her family.

  ‘So?’ Oliver asked, looking up from wiping what looked like apple mush from the twins’ faces. ‘Are they coming?’

  Daisy shook her head. ‘The calendar thought we should be here six hours ago, and there was some sort of trouble with the oven and a bird. Which hopefully won’t affect dinner,’ she added, as the thought occurred to her. Oliver and the kids would not be happy if she’d dragged them all this way, away from Claude, and there wasn’t even a decent meal at the end of it.

  ‘So what do we do now?’ Bella asked. Jay was curled up in her lap, half asleep, apparently worn out by his epic crying fit earlier. His soft toy Claude was clasped tightly in his arms, black ears poking out, a poor substitute for the real thing.

  ‘Grandad has given me directions,’ Daisy said, and Oliver and Bella groaned in unison. ‘I’m sure we’ll be fine.’

  Oliver tossed the apple-covered baby wipes into a nappy bag and stuck them in the side pocket of the change bag for Daisy to deal with later. ‘Well, if we want to get there before Christmas Day, we’d better set off now.’

  ‘It’s only an hour’s drive, Dad says,’ Daisy protested. ‘And mostly on two or three roads. Depending on which way we go.’

  Oliver paused. ‘How many possible routes did he give you?’

  ‘Well, he said there were two. And then he described six. Or seven. I might have lost count.’

  Eyes raised to heaven, Oliver shouldered the change bag. ‘Right.’

  ‘It’ll be fine.’

  ‘You keep saying that,’ Bella interjected.

  ‘I keep hoping it’s true,’ Daisy said. ‘It is the season of miracles, after all.’

  But that logic was wearing thin, even for her.

  Just one hour, and they’d be at the chateau. And then they could figure out how they were going to get home to Claude again.

  ‘These mince pies are delicious. So is the gingerbread,’ Jack said, watching as Claude devoured his third piece. Were dogs allowed to eat gingerbread? He suspected not, but he also knew he stood no chance of keeping Claude away from them. He just hoped the McCawleys didn’t blame him for any ensuing stomach upset.

  ‘I’m glad,’ Kathleen said. ‘I don’t really have a
sweet tooth, but I suspect my daughter sent them for me to give to guests. So they’ve served their purpose, I suppose!’

  It seemed a shame that Jack and Claude were the only guests she had to share them with, but Jack couldn’t help but feel grateful for the glimpse of the Maple Drive he’d been hoping for when he moved there.

  ‘Your daughter won’t be with you for Christmas?’ He knew it could be difficult to get everyone together over the holidays, but he didn’t like the thought of Kathleen alone this Christmas Day. And he couldn’t help but think that if she were his mum, he’d make a point of being there. A hamper wasn’t the same as company, after all.

  Kathleen shook her head. ‘Unfortunately not. She says she wants to be, of course, but … she lives in Australia, you see, and her husband’s family are all over there …’ She sighed. ‘They’re hoping to come over in the spring, instead, which will be nice. And perhaps my son will be able to join them – he’s working over in America at the moment, on a five-year contract. But he’s met a girl, so whether or not he comes back at all, we’ll have to wait and see. All I know is that they’re keeping him too busy to come home for Christmas!’

  ‘You didn’t think about going over there?’ Kathleen was obviously disappointed to not have her family visiting, but then, America was a long way – and Australia even further.

  ‘No, not really.’ She gave him a half smile. ‘It’s probably just old age, or maybe I just did too much travelling in my younger days, but these days I just can’t face getting on a plane. Lily and Hugh keep trying to persuade me to move out to Australia with them, where they can look after me. They go on and on about the quality of life, the opportunities, the weather … but I lived abroad for so many years, now I really just want to spend my last days here, at home. Where I belong.’

  ‘I know that feeling,’ Jack admitted. ‘But I’m sure you’ve got plenty of days left to enjoy your home!’

  ‘I hope so! But not as many as you.’ She studied him critically. ‘So, you’ve spent time abroad too? Of course you have. Army?’

  Jack nodded. ‘Ten years. I saw a lot more of the world than I ever imagined existed when I was twenty-one.’

  ‘I would say the same,’ Kathleen said, with a grin. ‘But I was married to a civil servant in the Foreign Office by the time I was nineteen. My whole world suddenly opened up, and I loved every moment of it.’

  Jack thought about all the parcels he’d delivered to Kathleen over the last few months, each with exotic postmarks and interesting stamps, and often in unusual shapes and sizes. ‘I did wonder. You get a lot more post from overseas than most people on my patch!’

  ‘I still have a lot of friends, all over the world,’ Kathleen said. ‘Mostly we email, or Skype occasionally – it’s amazing how easy it is to keep in touch these days. And many of them like to send packages at this time of year. I ship out a lot of tea and biscuits, myself!’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Jack said, with a laugh. ‘But still, it’s not the same as being with them, is it? Seeing the people you love, day after day, whenever you want.’

  ‘No,’ Kathleen admitted. ‘It’s not. So, how are you finding civilian life?’

  ‘It’s taken a little adjusting to,’ Jack admitted. ‘When you’re in the forces, they take care of everything for you – I never had to worry about registering with a doctor before, or finding a place to rent or even buying my own socks! Everything I needed just showed up when I needed it, or I could just go down to stores and get it. Even my friends were just there, whenever I needed them.’

  They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their tea, the only noise the sound of Claude wolfing down biscuits.

  Then Kathleen said, ‘You miss them, then? Your army family?’

  How had she known? That they weren’t just friends to him, they were family. The only family he’d known since his parents died.

  ‘They are family, aren’t they?’ Kathleen went on, as if she’d read his mind. ‘When you’re together like that, strangers in a foreign land – and I imagine even training in this country you’re that too. It must be nearly impossible for outsiders to understand the life you live, the challenges you face, the risks you take. So the people you serve with …’

  ‘They become your brothers and sisters,’ Jack admitted. ‘And your parents, your children. Your people. It’s been … hard. Leaving them behind.’

  ‘I’m sure. Are you still in touch, though?’

  Jack nodded. ‘When we can be. We Skype occasionally. Email. Same as you, I suppose. But most of them, they have other people they want to talk to, when there’s time. Their real family.’

  ‘And you don’t? No family on the outside?’

  ‘Not any more.’ Jack set down his empty teacup. How had he ended up opening up to this stranger? Were his secrets so cheaply bought, for a cup of tea and a mince pie?

  Or maybe he’d just been waiting for somebody to tell them to. Someone who would understand.

  He looked down at Claude, who was watching him from his seat on the floor. It sounded crazy, even in his head, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Claude had brought him into Kathleen’s house for a reason. That he’d sensed that Kathleen needed the company – and maybe that Jack did, too.

  Kathleen tilted her head as she looked at him. ‘I have to ask … why did you leave? What were you looking for, back in the civilian world?’

  And wasn’t that just the question he’d been asking himself lately?

  Jack fiddled with the silver case from his mince pie. ‘Well …’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kathleen interrupted. ‘You don’t have to tell me. My daughter’s always telling me I’m too nosy, asking all these questions.’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ Jack assured her. ‘In fact … it’s nice to have someone ask, to be honest.’

  Kathleen smiled, with the same understanding she’d shown since he arrived. ‘Well, in that case …’

  ‘I guess it was just time. Ten years … that was a third of my life. And I loved it, I did. But I didn’t want it to be the only thing I ever did. I wanted to have a life of my own as well, outside of the army. A place where I belonged. I just haven’t quite found it yet.’

  ‘And why is that, do you think?’

  Jack considered. He’d been so sure he was looking in the wrong place, that Maple Drive couldn’t give him what he wanted. But what he’d been looking for was a community, a place where he might be invited in for a cup of tea and a chat, where he would know everyone’s names. And yes, maybe a place where he might find love, family, and a future that he was excited to wake up to every morning. But those things took time, like Bill said. And right now …

  Well, there he was, drinking tea and having that chat – thanks to Claude, anyway. And he did know all his neighbours names, even if they didn’t know his yet. But maybe that was because he hadn’t told them. Hadn’t said, ‘Hi, I’m Jack. I’m your new postman – and I live around the corner, by the way.’

  Yes, the inhabitants of Maple Drive might not all make much of an effort to get to know each other. But in the last twelve hours he’d had long, proper conversations with most of them – starting with Mrs Templeton and her aversion to icicle lights, then Holly and her cat lead, all the neighbours who didn’t know Claude, and now Kathleen.

  Not bad for one day. And he hadn’t even been trying.

  Imagine how he might get on if he made an actual effort.

  ‘I think,’ he said, realising that Kathleen was still waiting for an answer to her question. ‘I think I was waiting for it to come to me, rather than going out and looking for it. But I think I’m ready for that to change, too.’

  Kathleen beamed. ‘Well, that is good news! So, tell me about this life you’re looking for then. When you get to my age, other people’s dreams and ambitions are the only things you can look forward to!’

  It was the second time she’d said something like that, like there was nothing left to her life except waiting for the end. And yes, okay, she wasn’t
young any more, Jack could see that. But still, he didn’t like the idea of Kathleen counting down to her death.

  Suddenly, he wanted to give her something to look forward to. Something to remind her that there were still good things in the world for her.

  But how on earth would he, Jack Tyler, go about that? He had no idea.

  So instead, he settled back to tell her about his hopes for his new, civilian life.

  ‘I guess I was looking for somewhere to belong, more than anything.’ As he spoke, he felt a furry head press against his leg, and reached down to rub Claude between the ears. The little dog apparently took that as permission to jump up into his lap.

  Kathleen smiled at the sight. ‘Looks to me like you belong to somebody already.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘This little fella is only on loan,’ he explained. ‘As soon as the McCawleys get home, he’s going back.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Kathleen replied. ‘But I think you’ve made an impact on him already. And once a dog is attached to someone … he won’t forget you anyway, is my bet.’

  ‘That’s a nice thought,’ Jack admitted. He quite liked the idea of Claude popping out to say hello whenever he had post for number 11. He looked down at the small dog in his lap. His ears were lowered, and Jack suspected his eyes were closed. Every now and again his rear end wiggled, as if he were wagging his stumpy tail. ‘In the meantime, I’d better go and see if I can find him a home for the night. I’m not allowed pets at my rental,’ he explained.

  Kathleen looked concerned. ‘Any ideas? I’d take him myself, but I’m a little too old to learn how to care for a dog!’

  ‘You’re never too old,’ Jack said. ‘But don’t worry. I’m going to take him next door to Holly, first, and return her lead. I’m sure the McCawleys will be back by then.’ As long as they hadn’t gone away. But if they had … surely they’d have realised Claude was missing and come back for him by now? Or made arrangements for someone to take care of him?