Cross Stitch

by Amanda James

  Veronica narrowed her eyes and puffed out her chest – the old Ratchet was back for a moment or two. ‘Yes, why not? Don’t be so ready to write off us older folk.’

  ‘I’m not. Just really bloody impressed!’ Sarah laughed. Older folk – she doubted there were other older folk in the country.

  A satisfied nod of the head and a smile returned Ratchet to Veronica. She looked at Sarah sidelong and smoothed out her quilt with long ivory fingers. ‘Of course the Spindlies keep me informed of most things nowadays too. I email and ask them about how Corbin’s doing and you and John, of course. By the way, ask him to pop his head round before you leave. I have overcome my fear of him, you know.’

  Sarah could tell by the knowing twinkle in her eye that she realised exactly why John had chosen to stay away today. That both alarmed and astounded her. ‘How in the name of all that is holy, to quote you when we first met, did you know?’

  ‘That’s not all. I have been expecting you for a while, just got it out by a few days. I know lots of things. Must be a combination of my great age and stitching, perhaps I have developed an extra sense? The Spindlies agreed to tell me things because they have decided that I have earned my metaphorical stitching medal. I was doing it right up to the grand old age of seventy. I now realise I was but a lass.’ She gave a wheezy chuckle. ‘Anyway, they more or less forced me to retire, but I have my finger on the pulse still.’

  ‘You certainly seem to have, yes,’ Sarah said, bewildered at the amount of crazy information whirling around her brain.

  ‘Right, Corbin said that I wasn’t to get you too frazzled.’ Veronica patted Sarah’s bump. ‘Not with you in your condition … so let’s talk of the old days, eh?’

  ‘The old days for you, only a short while ago for me. That in itself is just mad, isn’t it?’ Sarah marvelled.

  The receptionist, Pam, brought tea and biscuits and for the next hour they reminisced about how they met, Gerry and the 1979 trip, the 1941 trip, and laughed awkwardly about the way Veronica had inadvertently been part of ruining Sarah’s wedding, and then almost came to blows with Wesley when she’d managed to get into Sarah’s school. Now, of course, Veronica was truly mortified at her behaviour. She apparently had learned a lot about positive relationships in the classroom since then.

  ‘However, I do still think teachers need to be a bit more assertive than they are. Children need to know who the grown up is, you know?’ she said, sticking her chin out.

  Then the talk turned to Veronica’s marriage and life with Edward and her long and esteemed stitching career. Sarah discovered that Edward had never known about it, apparently he wouldn’t have coped.

  ‘Edward was a down to earth meat and potatoes man. Luckily I never got into a pickle like poor Corbin, and Teddy spent most of his time at work or at the allotment, so he never wondered where I’d popped off to.’

  ‘But weren’t you ever missing overnight?’ Sarah wondered.

  ‘Yes, of course. But he was increasingly deaf as he got older and once his head touched the pillow he was out like the proverbial. I didn’t return to it until after the kids were in their early teens, so no worries about them waking and finding me gone at unusual times.’

  Sarah helped herself to another chocolate biscuit. ‘That was lucky then. I won’t have that worry as my two will be in “the business” so they tell me.’

  ‘Yes, so I hear. How marvellous! That was why your travelling went tits up and why we ended up crossing paths in the first place, wasn’t it?’

  An explosion of laughter burst from Sarah’s lips and half the biscuit ended up back on the plate. ‘I never expected you to just come out with that phrase, even though you found it so funny before,’ Sarah spluttered.

  Veronica squawked ‘You’d be surprised how I have mellowed over the years. I have been known to say bugger sometimes!’

  ‘You little tinker.’ Sarah grinned. ‘But tell me, didn’t Evelyn ever wonder what Marcel was up to? And Corbin?’

  ‘No. Marcel was a travelling salesman – a perfect job to fit with “the business”. And Corbin was already at university and away from home when he started. I had wanted to confide in her but she’s very much like her dad in temperament and there seemed little point in upsetting her. The powers weren’t too keen either, of course.’

  All too soon Veronica became visibly tired and John texted Sarah to tell her time was up. She asked him to pop his head round, which he duly did and was rewarded with a huge warm hug and kiss from the previously prudish Miss Ratchet.

  ‘Might I say you are looking remarkably well for a woman of your years?’ John flattered.

  ‘You might indeed. And may I say what a pleasure it is to be hugged by a fine virile specimen such as yourself?’ Veronica chuckled wickedly and Sarah hid a smirk at John’s red face.

  ‘Two minutes, Sarah. I want to beat the snow, okay?’ John patted Veronica’s hand and left them alone to say their final goodbyes.

  ‘Sarah, open that drawer in the bedside cabinet, would you?’ Veronica asked, dabbing tears away from her eyes with a lace hanky. ‘Gawd look at me, I promised myself I wouldn’t get all wussy.’

  In the drawer Sarah found a small box shaped package wrapped in red shiny Christmas paper and an envelope addressed to her. She held them up to Veronica questioningly. ‘These?’

  ‘Yes. You aren’t to open them until Christmas day. Make sure you open the gift before the letter. And don’t ring to thank me or anything. You’ll understand why when you read the letter. I’m not very good at saying things that mean a lot to me, face to face.’

  It was clear by the tremor in her voice that she was barely holding it together and Sarah felt a huge lump of emotion rise and lodge in her own throat.

  ‘Thank you, Veronica. I came here in such a rush that I didn’t think to bring anything for—’

  Veronica flapped her hanky. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, woman. You just being here was worth all the presents in the world. Thank you so much for coming and I wish you every happiness for the future, my dear.’

  Sarah sat on the bed and hugged her again. Her heart was so full it left no room for any words she might have wanted to say.

  ‘Now go to that lovely husband of yours. I don’t want you getting stuck in the snow.’

  Sarah stood and walked to the door. She opened it and then gave Veronica a little smile and a wave. Old Horse Face, Ratchet Features and other names Sarah had given to her when she’d been a fierce old crow at the beginning, had become Veronica, a compassionate and worthy Stitch whose lively spirit was now waving back at her from behind the eyes of a frail old lady.

  ‘Bye, Veronica. It’s been grand meeting up again,’ Sarah managed.

  ‘That it has, my dear. Now run along.’

  Sarah waved once more and closed the door behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  John drew curtains back on a perfect white Christmas morning. Well, it should have been perfect but Sarah seemed intent on ruining it. Since their return from Southampton two days ago, the snow had come down heavily – along with Sarah’s mood. She hadn’t been herself at all. She mooched about, kept shaking the gift box from Veronica, holding the letter up to the light, and yesterday had asked him if he thought she should open it early. When he said she should stick by Veronica’s wishes, she’d sighed and scrunched up her face.

  Though he had been thankful that Veronica hadn’t whisked Sarah away to beyond the grave when they’d visited, his sense of foreboding about the meeting hadn’t been wrong. Old Ratchet’s incredible revelations had really put the damned cat amongst the pigeons. Once he was over the shock of it all, he and Sarah had batted back and forth an argument about the pros and cons of getting Corbin to tell Lucy about ‘the business’ and he had been dead against it. Sarah hadn’t been, and desperately wanted Lucy to be put out of her misery. Of course he wanted his sister to be happy, but John wanted nothing to do with sticking his nose in her private affairs. It was their business, not his and Sarah’s.


  The sun broke through a cloud and cast a wintery sparkle over the snow-clad hills. The Murray’s farm three fields away stood out red against the white and smoke puffed from it’s chimney into a sky growing ever bluer. A pair of robins hopped along the fence fluffing their feathers and in the distance church bells began to peal Christmas greetings to the village. It was real traditional Christmas card scene, one that lifted the heart and invigorated the spirit, but his wife wasn’t here to share it.

  Upon waking, John had stretched his hand but found that her side of the bed was already cold. He let the curtain fall back into place and set out to see what she was up to. A heavy sigh left him as he walked downstairs. Why couldn’t things have just gone on nicely without all this upset? They had both been looking so forward to this Christmas and now …

  ‘Merry Christmas, my darling!’ Sarah, wreathed in smiles, held her arms open to him as she sat by the fire next to the Christmas tree.

  John stood by the door pleasantly surprised, but a little puzzled, at her transformation in mood. She jumped up, gave a little shiver and wrapped her dressing gown more closely around her. ‘Come on, open your presents. I have managed three cups of tea waiting for you, my lazy bones.’

  John stepped forward and into her embrace. ‘Why, what time is it?’

  ‘Eight-thirty. I have been up since six, but then I always was over-excited at Christmas.’ She gave him a big kiss and hugged him again.

  ‘You certainly seem a lot more cheerful than you have been for the last few days.’ John sat on the sofa and rubbed his eyes.

  ‘I am. And that’s because I have sorted my head out – thanks to Veronica’s brilliant present and letter.’ She looked at him and grinned. ‘Mind you, it’s a good job you weren’t up when I opened it. I cried buckets.’

  Oh great, what the hell had the old witch given her? ‘Right … good, I think.’

  ‘It is good, honestly nothing to worry about. Here read the letter while I make you a lovely breakfast.’ She handed it to him on her way out. Then she popped her head back round the door. ‘And we have to be at Mum’s for one-ish, so I think we should get Lucy and Corbin round before that … oh and look at what’s in the box before you read the letter. It’s on the arm of the chair.’

  Getting Corbin and Lucy round? They never agreed to that. What the hell was Sarah on? Still, at least she was a cheerful little soul at the moment. John sighed, grabbed the box and shook out the letter. Taking the box in his fingers he slowly prized up the lid. It was a brown leather box, battered with age and he worried that the flimsy hinge might snap. Nestled against a black velvet cushion was the beautiful diamante conch brooch that Veronica had worn when they had first met her, the brooch that Sarah had adored, the one that Edward had given to his sweetheart before the war, the one Sarah had told him Veronica had worn on her wedding day. Wow, no wonder Sarah had cried. It must have been a wrench for Veronica to give something as precious as that away.

  John put it on the cushion next to him and opened out the letter.

  Dearest Sarah,

  By now you will have opened the gift box and I can just picture your face. I don’t have to ask you if you like the brooch. I remember how much you admired it that day in my cold little cottage by the sea, way back in 1939. My goodness, that was such a long, long time ago. I had thought of giving it to Evelyn, but somehow it didn’t feel right and she’s got lots of my other things. It just felt fitting somehow that you should be its new owner. I hope you will wear it now and then?

  So, as you know, I’m not much cop with the emotion bit face to face so here is what I need to say:

  Without you I would never have become a Stitch – you were my inspiration and mentor. And that day in that 1979 Bristol park when you told me about the holes in time, threads of humanity and answered all my questions, you really opened up my mind, made me take stock of what was important to life … to our very existence. As you probably guessed, for all my bluster, I was a bit of a wuss underneath, but from that day on, I changed irrevocably.

  I have been privileged to know you, Sarah, both as a woman and a formidable Stitch, so thank you, thank you so much.

  John noted that the paper was still damp at the end of that sentence and he could see why. The old trout really knew how to tug at the heart strings.

  Talking of stitching, I hope you will reconsider. It would be a great loss to the world and I think your future happiness if you never went on a mission again. Without giving too much insider information away, I feel that Lucy might need your support and encouragement if she ever does decide to go for it. I think she could be as good as me … and nearly as good as you in time – no pun intended! Perhaps that’s the reason our families are linked – we have lots more lives to save in the future. Your two babies, as you know, will become a Needle and Stitch, and eventually, one day, you will become the matriarch and Chief Stitch of the whole clan! I am sure that would appeal to your Super Stitch mentality. ☺

  Anyway, my dear, I’m signing off now. We won’t meet again, but my spirit will live on through Corbin and Lucy’s children. I am ready to go to my Edward now – have been ready for a while actually. LOL. Hey, get me using slang stuff. I’m down with the kids!

  Much love,

  Veronica xxx

  Sarah bounced back in before John had time to clear his thoughts. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ She ran her fingers over the brooch.

  ‘It is, and the letter, too.’

  ‘It really is, and I’m so grateful to her for helping me to make a decision about stitching.’

  John felt his heart sink. ‘I thought you had already made it. You aren’t going to.’

  ‘Yes, but I could tell by the look that passed between you and your dad the other week that you didn’t believe me.’

  John hadn’t at first, but as he’d reflected the other day on the drive to Southampton, he was really pleased about it. Now though, a nice ‘normal’ family life was teetering on the edge of a brooch and a letter, soon to topple into an abyss of ‘madness and mayhem forthcoming’ by the looks of it.

  ‘Yeah, but do we really want all that worry and stuff that goes with time trips, now we have the babies coming?’ John stretched his hand out and pulled her onto his knee.

  ‘I won’t do it for a good few years after the twins, sweetheart, and then only now and again. But Veronica’s words have made me realise how much I would miss it if I packed it in forever.’

  Before John could respond the phone rang and Sarah rushed off to answer it. A few minutes later she came back, another big smile on her face. ‘Right you, open your present from me and then jump in the shower. That was Lucy to wish us Merry Christmas, and I asked her and Corbin to pop over at about eleven for a sherry.’

  John groaned and rubbed his hands vigorously over his face. Something he tended to do when he was frustrated. Sarah always commented that he looked like a hamster shoving nuts into its cheeks. ‘Bloody hell, Sarah. We didn’t agree to tell Lucy. Let’s just keep out of it. Just because Ratchet wants her to go into the business doesn’t mean that—’

  Sarah kneeled in front of him on the carpet. ‘Look, I promise I won’t try and convince her of anything – won’t even mention her stitching in the future.’ Sarah licked her little finger and crossed her heart. ‘I just think we should persuade Corbin to tell her. Trust me, he will be so pleased that he doesn’t have to hide it any more and she will be delighted that he’s not up to any shenanigans.’

  ‘But if Corbin wanted to tell her he would have already, wouldn’t he?’

  Sarah pulled a face and ruffled his hair. ‘No, silly. He’s worried that she would go crazy, perhaps even leave him if he did. Veronica mentioned that Lucy always wanted a down to earth life after her unorthodox upbringing. Normality, you know?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I know,’ John muttered.

  ‘So, we’re agreed, yes?’

  ‘You’re agreed. I am keeping well out of it.’ He watched Sarah’s face fall, and felt a bit like th
e bad guy, but this had to be said. ‘Seems to me that you want to be the centre of attention, Sarah. Veronica had you covered with the Chief Stitch thing.’

  To his surprise, Sarah nodded. ‘And she borrowed your Super Stitch term, too, yes I know. I hold my hands up to it, I guess. But I truly believe that Lucy needs to hear the truth and I would love you to be behind me on this.’

  John lifted his hands high in despair. Seems his sense of foreboding was justified the other day. Veronica had certainly chucked a few spanners in the works. ‘Okay, you win. But that’s exactly where I am going to be … very much behind you. If this blows up in your face then you have only yourself to blame.’

  The conch brooch looked just perfect twinkling on the green velvet top Sarah had matched with the black leggings she’d bought when she’d been out with Ella. Turning sideways she smoothed the top down over her bump and felt a surge of happiness – it had definitely grown since yesterday. It was all going to be fine. Christmas was here at last and it had snowed. John loved his present – a hot air balloon ride – and she loved the spa day gift from him too. Gwen was cooking up a master feast and John had agreed, albeit it reluctantly, to her plan. He would come round when it all went swimmingly.

  Sarah put a little dab of perfume, a present from Gwen, on her wrist. She was convinced that it all would go swimmingly. She could feel it in her gut and her gut was rarely wrong.

  Lucy and Corbin brought the breath of winter in on their coats and as she closed the door behind them the scent of holly from the wreath hanging on it made Sarah wrap her arms around herself with contentment. This was so exciting. John had agreed to give her a moment to discuss the situation with Corbin while he asked Lucy to help with a few canapés and sherry.

  Corbin settled by the fire and gave her his signature stubbled dimpler. ‘So, Sarah, how are you this fine Christmas?’

  ‘I am very well and so it seems is your grandmother.’ Sarah grinned back.