The Art of Friendship

Home > Fiction > The Art of Friendship > Page 10
The Art of Friendship Page 10

by Lisa Ireland


  ‘I can’t ever see a time when I would want to leave, but if I did I’m sure I would manage somehow.’

  ‘No one ever enters a marriage thinking it’s going to end, but things happen. You’re a smart girl, Libby, too smart to let yourself be dependent on a man.’

  Libby had shaken her head. Her poor mother. Obviously her parents’ marriage wasn’t built on the sort of love Libby and Cam had. She simply didn’t understand that Libby would never want to leave. ‘I promise I won’t, Mum. I’ll go back to uni eventually. But right now I just want to focus on the wedding.’

  Mum never let an opportunity go by to complain about the fact that Libby was yet to make good on that promise.

  ‘I can call her right now if you like?’

  As Cam repeated his offer, Libby realised she hadn’t given him an answer. ‘No, no. That’s fine. I’ll ask her. I mean, it’s a good excuse to have them over to see the house. Maybe it’ll make up for me putting her off that first weekend we were here.’

  In the end, her mum had been delighted with the invitation – well, pleased at least. Delight wasn’t really an emotion Mary was familiar with. It was a relief, because there’d been some tension between them since the move. The original plan had been to have her parents over on their first Sunday in the house, but after the debacle with Kit, Libby had put them off until the following day. Mum had been highly put out at having to change her plans and Libby didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if her parents had a full social schedule. In any case her mother had steadfastly refused to visit since then, coming up with all manner of excuses as to why she and Dad were unable to drive the fifteen minutes it would take them to get to Arcadia Lakes from Woodvale. Libby had visited them instead and even taken flowers, which of course had not gone down well. ‘What a waste of money, Libby,’ her mum had said. ‘I don’t know what you were thinking when you know we have a beautiful garden of our own.’

  So she’d been surprised when her mum had accepted the Christmas lunch invitation without complaint. Maybe Cam was right: maybe she was getting to an age when cooking Christmas lunch was simply too much for her. The thought that her mother could be anything less than formidable was a foreign one to Libby, and one that didn’t sit well with her.

  Kit was more of an issue. She kept insisting that she didn’t want to intrude and as late as yesterday morning she was refusing to budge on her position. But, to Libby’s surprise, she’d done a complete turnaround in the afternoon and texted to say she was coming. Who knew what had happened to change her mind? Libby was just happy she had.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Mum!’ Harry’s excited voice pulled her from her thoughts.

  ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Come and give me a kiss.’

  Harry hugged her with the most warmth she’d felt from him in some time and landed a kiss on her cheek. ‘Can I open my presents?’

  ‘Go see if Dad’s awake, he’ll want to . . .’ She didn’t bother finishing the sentence as Harry had taken off towards the main bedroom already.

  Moments later Harry burst back into the room with a groggy looking Cam trailing behind him. Cam rubbed his eyes and flopped down on the couch next to Libby, draping an arm around her once he was seated. She moved closer and kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘Merry Christmas.’

  Cam grinned. ‘Merry Christmas, gorgeous.’ He kissed her again, this time more deeply.

  ‘Yuck! Stop it, you two.’

  Libby laughed. ‘Sorry.’

  Cam laughed too. ‘Settle down, Harry. It’s a sad day when a man can’t kiss his beautiful wife on Christmas morning.’

  Harry screwed up his face. ‘Enough with the mushy stuff. I just want to open my presents.’

  ‘Well, go on then,’ Cam said. ‘We’re not stopping you.’

  Libby’s eyes pricked with tears. This was what Christmas should be like. Laughing and joking mixed in with the odd tender moment. Being with those you loved most in the world. She felt overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude. How lucky was she? Her life was pretty much perfect. Since the move, free from any financial stress, she and Cam were getting along so much better. He’d been spending long hours at work, but the challenge of the new job seemed to suit him. At home he was calm, centred and more attentive than he’d been in years.

  Last Christmas her joy at watching Harry open his presents had been tempered by the argument she knew would ensue when Cam opened their bank statement in January. This year she had no such worry. Even the thought of entertaining her parents didn’t fill her with the same dread it usually did. Maybe they’d be impressed with the house. Maybe, for the first time since her wedding, her mum would look at Cam – indeed at her – without an expression tainted with disappointment. Of course, her mother would never come right out and admit that they’d done well for themselves; it just wasn’t in her nature. But a day free from discussing what a shame it was that Libby had forfeited a career in law would be nice. Perhaps now her mother would see that she hadn’t made a mistake by choosing to focus on family instead of a career. And, if all else failed, there was plenty of room in this big house to get away and have a moment alone if needed. Hopefully this would ensure that it would not be one of those Christmases that ended in tears.

  Libby realised Cam was looking at her, his brow furrowed. ‘Hey, babe, something wrong?’

  She smiled and shook her head. ‘Not at all. In fact, I was just thinking how lucky we are.’

  Cam took her hand in his and squeezed it.

  *

  Libby was still putting on her make-up when she heard the intercom buzz. It would be the gatehouse, letting them know her parents had arrived. ‘Cam, can you get that?’ she shouted. No reply came, but the intercom didn’t buzz again, so clearly he’d dealt with it. She lightly sprayed her freshly blow-waved hair, dabbed her wrists with the Chanel scent Cam had given her earlier that morning, and applied a coat of festive red lipstick to her lips. She was as ready as she’d ever be to face the onslaught.

  When she reached the living room she was surprised to hear the sound of Kit’s voice talking to Cam. She made her way to the entrance hall.

  ‘Merry Christmas!’ Kit said, coming forward to embrace Libby.

  Libby squeezed her tight. ‘I’m so glad you came. I really wasn’t sure that you would.’

  Kit smiled. ‘Well, you didn’t give me much choice, did you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Getting Contrary Mary to do your dirty work.’ Kit retrieved the large basket that she’d set down by the front door and started to move towards the living room.

  ‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.’

  Kit swung around to face her. ‘Are you telling me you didn’t ask your mum to call me?’

  ‘She called you?’

  Kit’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Well, wonders will never cease. I was sure she was calling at your request.’

  Libby shook her head, momentarily dumbstruck.

  ‘She phoned me yesterday afternoon and told me to “get over” myself.’

  Libby felt her jaw go slack.

  Kit laughed at her expression. ‘In true Mary style she told me that I would ruin everyone else’s day if I didn’t come because you’d be so worried about me. She said I was being selfish wanting to sit and “wallow” in my grief and that my mother would “roll over in her grave” if she knew I was being such a stick in the mud.’

  ‘Oh, Kit, I’m so sorry. I would never . . . you should have known I wouldn’t ever ask her to say something so hideous to you.’

  Kit grinned. ‘Don’t worry. I never attributed the actual words to anyone but Mary, though I am surprised she called at her own behest. I was sure you must have asked her to.’

  ‘No. I can’t believe she did such a thing.’

  Kit shrugged. ‘You know what? I think she was trying to help, and in her own strange way she kind of did. I
mean, she was right about one thing. Mum would hate to think of me sitting on my own on Christmas Day. Being here with you and Harry will be lovely . . .’ she glanced over at Cam, who’d just settled himself back on the couch, ‘and Cam of course. Besides, there’s nothing like a day with Mary to distract me from any morose feelings I might have.’

  Libby smiled. ‘I don’t know what came over her, but I’m so glad you’re here.’

  Kit walked into the kitchen, placed her basket on the bench and pulled out a bottle of sparkling wine. ‘Shall I pop this one? I thought we might all need some fortification before she gets here.’

  ‘Ooh, good idea. I’ll get the glasses.’ Libby looked over at Cam, willing him to make some type of friendly overture. ‘Are you going to join us?’

  Cam grinned. Either he’d interpreted her marital shorthand correctly for once or he really wanted a drink of some kind. ‘Absolutely.’ He got up and made his way to the kitchen as Kit expertly popped the cork.

  She quickly poured three glasses and raised hers aloft. ‘Merry Christmas to my favourite people in the . . . hang on, where’s Harry? We can’t have a Christmas toast to my favourite people without him here.’

  ‘He’s in the shower,’ Cam said.

  Libby rolled her eyes. ‘We could be waiting for some time. Maybe we need to have another toast when he gets out, because I, for one, can’t wait much longer for a drink. I definitely need at least one under my belt before my parents arrive.’

  Kit and Cam both laughed their agreement. ‘In that case, bottoms up,’ Kit said. ‘We’ll save the mushy stuff for later.’ She took a large gulp and then nodded towards the basket. ‘Should I put the presents under the tree?’

  Libby nodded. ‘That’d be great. You know how Mum likes to delay the present-giving until after we’ve eaten.’

  ‘Maybe we should do the presents before lunch this year,’ Cam said. ‘Our house, our rules.’

  ‘Let’s not rock the boat. Having Christmas here instead of at her place was probably enough change to spring on her. Let’s quit while we’re ahead.’ Libby walked around to the other side of the bench. ‘Please, Cam, for my sake?’

  ‘Whatever you want, babe. It was just a suggestion.’

  ‘Hey, Aunty Kit, Merry Christmas!’ Harry, now dressed in board shorts and a t-shirt, entered the room and made a beeline for Kit.

  As she watched them embrace Libby felt a return of the sentiment that had enveloped her earlier in the morning. How lucky she was to be here with the people she loved most in the world. Kit may not be Harry’s biological aunt, but their relationship couldn’t have been closer if she were. She was a far better aunty to Harry than any of his real ones. Cam’s siblings all had their own kids to worry about. They sent gifts for his birthday and Christmas and showed a cursory interest in him when they visited, but none of them adored him the way Kit did.

  ‘Is that for me?’ Harry asked, eyeing a large rectangular parcel Kit was placing under the tree.

  ‘Harry!’ Libby said.

  Kit grinned. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out.’

  ‘When are we doing presents?’ Harry asked.

  ‘After lunch,’ Libby said.

  ‘Oh, Mum, why do we have to wait so long? Can’t we do it now?’

  ‘No. Nanna and Grandpa aren’t even here yet. And besides, you know Nanna likes Christmas done a certain way.’

  Harry screwed up his nose. ‘I don’t see why we always have to do everything her way. We should get a say too.’

  Libby watched Cam and Kit exchange a glance. The one thing the two of them agreed on was what a dragon her mother was. She became aware of her pulse tapping in her temples. Yes, her mother could be bloody annoying, but there was something about Kit and Cam’s solidarity on this issue that irritated her. Despite her odd ways, Mum loved her, and Harry, and it was important to Libby that her son respected his grandparents. She opened her mouth to admonish Harry, but Cam got there first.

  ‘That is not a very nice way to speak about your grandmother. Traditions are important, Harry. Nanna and Grandpa are getting older and they like things done a certain way. It certainly doesn’t hurt us to indulge them a little. Okay?’

  Harry nodded as Libby shot Cam a grateful look.

  ‘Who’s for a top-up?’ Kit asked, waving her empty glass in the air. ‘Harry, you need to get yourself a juice or a water or something so I can do a mushy toast to us all.’

  ‘Steady on, sunshine,’ Libby said. ‘I thought you were on call today?’

  ‘Yeah, about that . . .’ Kit looked sheepish.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m actually not on call at all. There were already two others who put their hands up first, so I wasn’t needed. And to be honest, I don’t really do that on-call type of counselling work anymore. My role’s a bit different these days.’

  Libby lifted her eyebrows. ‘I see. So you lied to me?’

  Kit came to stand next to her, slipping an arm around Libby’s shoulders. ‘Don’t be mad, Lib. I thought I’d be better off on my own and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. But I see now that I was being silly. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be today. Honest.’

  Libby smiled and slid her arm around Kit’s waist. ‘I’ll forgive you this one time, but don’t do it again, all right?’

  ‘Deal. I do have maybe one little favour to ask though.’ Kit slid from Libby’s embrace and headed for the fridge.

  ‘Oh yeah? What’s that?’

  Kit returned with the bottle and began topping up their glasses. ‘I was thinking that if I’m truly going to enjoy myself today I might need to avail myself of that well-appointed guest suite you have back there.’ She nodded her head towards the doorway that led to the bedrooms

  Libby grinned. ‘I think that might be arranged.’

  They clicked their glasses together and began to laugh as the intercom buzzed.

  ‘Let the games begin,’ Cam said as he went to pick up the receiver.

  Libby winced. ‘Oh God, I haven’t even got the nibbles out yet. That’ll be a black mark against my name.’ She hurried to the fridge.

  ‘Relax,’ Kit said. ‘It’ll take them a couple of minutes to drive around from the gatehouse, and then a little longer to unload the car. Send Harry to the door to run decoy when they arrive and we should be home and hosed by the time they make their way in here.’

  ‘Let’s hope you’re right. I really want today to go well. Mum seems to be mellowing a bit with age, and I’d really like us to work on having a closer relationship now we’re back living in the same city. You know I always envied your relationship with Jude. You were so lucky to have her.’

  Kit nodded as she scooped olives from a container into the serving bowl Libby pushed across the counter to her. ‘She loved you too, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, but she was your mum, not mine. I know my relationship with Mum will never be the same as the one you had with Jude, but I’d like to get to a place where we’re comfortable with each other. This is the first time she’s been to the house, so I want the day to go smoothly.’

  ‘Your parents haven’t been here yet?’ Kit’s tone was incredulous.

  Libby sighed. ‘No. Mum wanted to come over the day after we arrived but I put her off, and, well, you know how that sort of thing goes down with her. She got snippy then and decided she wouldn’t “trouble” us until Christmas Day.’

  Kit winced. ‘You put her off on my account? You should have said something.’

  ‘Actually I don’t think that would have gone down well with you on that particular occasion.’

  ‘Sorry, Lib. But I honestly would have understood if I’d had to share you with Mary.’

  ‘In any case, this is the first time they’ve been here and I really want to make it a nice day for her. I’m hoping this will be the beginning of a fresh start for us.�
�� She unwrapped a round of camembert and placed it on the cheeseboard next to the wedge of cheddar Kit had just unwrapped. Hopefully Mum wouldn’t notice the cheese was still chilled, or there’d be a lecture about letting it breathe properly to enhance the taste. With any luck she and Dad would want a tour of the house before they started on the nibbles.

  Kit placed a small bunch of grapes on the board, while Libby emptied a box of water crackers into a bowl.

  ‘There you go,’ Kit said. ‘All done.’

  The doorbell sounded and Libby grinned. ‘Just in the nick of time.’ She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and looked at Kit. ‘How do I look?’

  Kit eyed her from head to toe before stepping forward and tucking a wisp of hair behind Libby’s ear. ‘Like the perfect hostess, my love. Nothing to fault.’

  Libby took a deep breath and nodded. ‘Right then. Off I go.’ She made her way to the entrance hall, while Kit picked up her glass and headed back to the living room.

  Somehow, Harry beat her to the door. ‘Merry Christmas, Grandpa,’ he said as her father embraced him. Her mother stood slightly behind them, her arms filled with an enamel-coated baking dish, which was covered with a tea-towel. The turkey, no doubt. Despite Cam’s offer, Mum had insisted she be the one to cook it.

  ‘Here, Mum, let me take that.’ Libby held out her arms but her mother just shook her head.

  ‘I’m fine. Just point me in the direction of the kitchen.’

  ‘Merry Christmas, darling.’ Her father leaned in and kissed her cheek. ‘This is some place you’ve got here.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad. We’ll just get this turkey into the kitchen and I’ll give you the tour.’

  `Harry grinned and immediately headed out the door, while her mother strode purposefully down the hall towards the main part of the house. Libby hurried after her.

  Kit stood as they entered the living room and moved towards them, smiling like a school photographer had just told her to say cheese. ‘Hello, Mary, Merry Christmas.’

  ‘Hello, Kit. Merry Christmas to you too. You have a little lipstick on your teeth.’

  ‘Oh.’ Kit’s smile disappeared as she ran her tongue over her teeth. ‘Better?’ She pulled her lips back and smiled again.

 

‹ Prev