25 Days 'Til Christmas

by Poppy Alexander

  “We’ll leave them to it,” said Paul, ushering Daniel out of the room.

  “Daniel!” came a cry, followed by Hayley swaying precariously down the hallway toward him, tottering on her platform heels.

  He winced, before putting on a polite smile. “Hayley, how are you?”

  “A bit drunk,” she admitted, giving him a smacking kiss on both cheeks.

  “No! Really?”

  “That girl,” she said, ignoring his gentle sarcasm and pointing into the kitchen at Kate. “She’s special.”

  “I know.”

  “She’s the one for you,” she continued, staring at him owlishly. “I wish I was. But she is,” she said, regretfully. “Be nice.”

  “I will be,” he said, his polite smile replaced with a genuine one. “I fully intend to be.”

  “Good,” she said, dismissing him and reeling away, bouncing off the wall. “I’m dying for a wee . . .”

  Kate was just putting her phone away when it rang. “Go ahead,” said Cara. “I must get some more wine for this lot. Daniel, Christmas Steps thing, remember?” she added, as he came back into the room.

  Kate was staring at her phone as it rang.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  She turned the screen toward him. Greystone Manor, it declared.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  She looked anguished. “I can’t,” she said, holding it out to him. “I can’t cope with any more . . .”

  He gave her a concerned look and held it to his ear.

  “Hi, this is Daniel,” he said. “I’m with Kate, but she can’t answer at the moment.”

  He listened and then smiled.

  “It’s Ursula Walker. And she says it’s good,” he told Kate, holding the phone out toward her. She took it, cautiously, as if it would bite.

  “Kate,” said Ursula. “It’s all going to be fine.”

  “How can it be? The local authority has told me . . .”

  “I know.” In those two words Ursula communicated exactly what she thought of the local authority. “So, I’ve been thinking hard about Jack,” she went on. “To be honest I’ve struggled to think of anything else. You and I both know that Jack needs to be with us and—let me be quite clear—as a school we need Jack too.”

  “But how . . .”

  “Ways and means. I can’t say it’s been easy. I had to call our governors and trustees together for an extraordinary meeting last night. They weren’t thrilled about it but as a registered charity we have a duty to provide bursaries for students who can’t afford the fees.”

  “You are so kind,” interrupted Kate, “but—even with a bursary—I’ve got to somehow pay the rest, plus nursing-home fees for my mother-in-law too, I’ve got no job . . .”

  “No, I really do think I can help you with Jack, at the very least,” she interjected. “What I meant to say is that they have approved a full bursary for Jack. These things are rare. Rarer than they darned well should be, in my view. Too many schools just offer a few percent discount on fees to lots of parents so they can say they are meeting their obligations . . .”

  “Sorry, did you say a ‘full bursary’?” interrupted Kate belatedly, this fresh surprise having to shoulder its way through so many earlier ones before it began to make any sense to her. “I just thought I heard you say you were offering a ‘full bursary’ . . .”

  “I did.”

  “So, yeah, so . . .” Kate was still floundering. “What does that actually mean? When you say ‘full’ does it mean the fees get paid—well—fully?”

  “Jack’s fees will be totally paid by the bursary. Also, I don’t want you to worry about the uniform. It can cost quite a bit to kit the boys out when they first start—everything at once—and I appreciate that’s daunting, but I am pleased to say there is a small discretionary fund for that too. Bring him in so we can take a look at sizes, there’s an excellent secondhand uniform cupboard run by the PTA. I know what you’re thinking, you don’t want him in rags; but honestly, this is really good stuff. God knows, the boys grow so quickly, they don’t get time to wear things out . . . Kate?” she added, realizing she had heard nothing from the other end for a while.

  Kate, now sobbing, handed the phone back to Daniel wordlessly.

  “I think she’s pleased,” he said to a concerned Ursula. “Yeah, it’s definitely joy,” he added, as Kate slid down the wall and sat on the floor, her head on her knees, sobbing. “Will you please quickly tell me what you just told her?”

  “So,” said Daniel, “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day, don’t you? Would you like me to take you home? Pick up Jack on the way?”

  “No! I’m fine. I can’t remember the last time I felt this energetic,” crowed Kate, folding the thick wad of cash Cara had just handed her and stowing it carefully in the inside pocket of her jacket. “I’m dying to see Jack,” and she was, “but I’ve finally got some money to go and get all the brilliant presents he deserves that I wasn’t going to be able to afford. I need to do it in secret. I’ll get him from Seema after that.”

  “You’ve not slept for days. I think I’d better be your minder today. Plus, you’ll need the car if this is the kind of major shopping I’m thinking it is.”

  Jack was hugely curious about the mysterious parcels that had appeared in the back of Daniel’s car. By the time Daniel took him and Kate back to the flat, everyone was flagging.

  “Thank you,” she said, as Daniel brought up the last bag, this one full of the wrapping paper she would be using once Jack was safely in bed. She put her hands on his chest and leaned forward to give him a kiss. It was a gentle, tender, meaningful kiss. But it was on the cheek. As she did so, Daniel kept his arms rigidly at his side, though the urge to wrap them around her and draw her closer still was powerful. She dipped her head, and rested in briefly against him before drawing away with regret.

  “First thing tomorrow,” he said. “Back to Christmas Steps. And this time I’ll take you there myself, to make sure you don’t run away.”

  “I know,” she said, blushing. “Sorry. Ten o’clock tomorrow. Christmas Eve. Have a lie-in. You need sleep after all this too.”

  Christmas Eve

  Kate woke up with a start. She could hear Jack in the sitting room. He had taken it upon himself to switch the telly on, she noticed, but it was the Christmas holidays, so she would let him have that one. She had a moment of panic, thinking she had left unwrapped presents for him to find, but then she remembered: she had finished her marathon wrapping session before she went to bed, blearily putting away the scissors and tape before falling into a deep sleep after midnight. Yikes, it was nine o’clock already. She didn’t want Daniel turning up when she was still in her raggedy old pajamas, the same ones she had had since Jack was born. She poked her head around the door to tell Jack to get himself some breakfast. She would then have a really speedy shower and chuck some warm clothes on.

  “Off and get dressed, you,” she said, picking up his plate and mug. “Warm clothes please, it’s cold and I don’t know what we’re going to be getting up to today.”

  “I do,” said Jack, slyly. “Me and Daniel have a secret mission.”

  “So, what’s this secret mission,” teased Kate when Daniel turned up. He smiled at Jack conspiratorially.

  “If I told you then it wouldn’t be a secret mission, would it?” he said. “Anyway, far more interesting for you is what you are going to be doing this morning.”

  “Which is . . . ?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Daniel introduced Kate to Grace, who greeted her warmly. “You’re the one,” she cried. “Daniel’s told us all about you. We’re all meeting up shortly, just needing to make sure we’ve got staff cover for all the last-minute Christmas shoppers. By which I mean the men,” she added, with a crooked smile.

  “Oi,” said Daniel, “that’s not necessarily true, I think men are unfairly maligned.”

  “Have you got all your presents?”
r />   “Erm, no,” he admitted. “That’s why I’ve got Jack. He’s my personal shopper for the morning.”

  “Not just boring shopping,” protested Jack. “There’s the . . . other thing,” he said, without moving his lips and giving Kate an anxious look.

  “Yeah, yeah, all good,” laughed Daniel. “Come on, let’s get going—busy day. There is just one other thing,” said Daniel to Kate. “Once Grace and the team have finished with you, I need to go and see Noel in the hospital. I was trying to get to him yesterday but . . .”

  “But it turned into a busy day,” admitted Kate.

  “Yeah, and actually it’s fine, because—really—I need to take you with me.”

  “Ookay,” said Kate, puzzled. “But you said he’s terribly ill . . .”

  “That’s why he’ll want to meet you. Trust me,” said Daniel. “Grace will explain.”

  Jack was delighted to go back to Krishna’s for the afternoon and it gave Kate a chance to drop off the presents she had bought them the previous day.

  “You shouldn’t have,” said Seema, “but I’m glad you did. We’re going to have to drink this together,” she said, holding up the present Kate had given her, which was clearly a bottle. “We’ve got lots of catching up to do, I gather.”

  “It might be bath oil,” teased Kate.

  “It isn’t though.”

  “No, I know you too well,” admitted Kate. “We’ll catch up.”

  “But things are good?”

  “Getting there.”

  Seema gave Daniel a naughtily appraising look and said, “I know what I’d really like for Christmas.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s not your Christmas present because (a) as you’ve said yourself, you’re Hindu so you’re not even supposed to get Christmas presents, technically, and (b) he’s taken,” Kate shot back without thinking.

  “Glad to hear it,” said Seema. “About time.”

  “I think I might have accidentally told Seema you and I are a thing,” admitted Kate as they walked to the hospital.

  “Good,” said Daniel simply.

  “Which, I suppose, we sort of are,” she went on, testing her soul tentatively for pain, as a tongue seeks out a mouth ulcer, expecting it to hurt. It didn’t. Not now.

  Ignoring this lukewarm assessment, he reached for her hand to cross the road, and when they got to the other side he didn’t let go.

  “It was amazing that I’d already seen the shop, though, wasn’t it?” she asked as they walked. “That I’d considered it, before I even knew you, or knew about the wedding group idea.”

  “But did you think it was right for you then?”

  “Totally. It was perfect. I just also knew that I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent and rates, especially as I was getting started. It takes time to set up a business. Early cash flow and underinvestment bury more new businesses than any other factor, even when there are amazing ideas that should do well.”

  “You’ve done your research.”

  “I have.” She had spent more time daydreaming about setting up a business of her own than she was prepared to admit. Even to herself.

  “You don’t recognize it, but you’re pretty good at sorting out problems. You’re pretty impressive.”

  “You say that, but the shop isn’t a solution, although I’d love it. I still can’t afford it,” she said, regretfully. “I just can’t.”

  “Let’s wait and see.”

  “Are you sure I should be here?” she said again, hanging back as they got to the double doors leading to the ward. The nursing sister had given permission and confirmed that Noel was “comfortable.”

  “He knows you’re coming,” said Daniel. “He insisted.”

  “This is her?” asked Noel, almost inaudibly, as Daniel and Kate sat themselves on either side of the bed.

  Daniel nodded, taking the frail old man’s bony hand in his own strong, warm one.

  “Thank you,” he said to Daniel before turning to smile at Kate.

  She smiled back, unperturbed by his fragility. She had seen extreme age in other people at Maureen’s nursing home, and in Noel she recognized the signs: the paper-thin skin barely covering a map of blue veins; faded, watery eyes; and just a few wisps of hair on his bony scalp.

  “Tell me about yourself, my child,” he said, his voice faint, but gentle and kind.

  “We didn’t talk about terms and conditions,” said Kate anxiously as they left, nearly an hour later. Noel had fallen asleep, drifting serenely into slumber with each of his hands outstretched, one holding Daniel’s and the other Kate’s. Together, without a word, they had gently placed his hands on the covers and slipped away.

  “Doesn’t matter. I can sort that out with him later,” said Daniel. “I was going to come in tomorrow once I’ve finished my helpline shift. I don’t want him to be alone at Christmas and it’s his birthday tomorrow too. The point is, he’s taken to you. You’re the one to take over the shop. The detail? We’ll work it out.”

  “I don’t want you to be alone at Christmas either. Won’t you come and spend it with us? Once you’ve seen Noel and said happy birthday?” said Kate. “Nothing fancy, just me and Jack in our pajamas?”

  “Hmm. Maybe . . .” said Daniel, stopping in the street, and turning to face her. “There’s nothing I would like more, and don’t get me wrong, but it seems to me like you and Jack need to be together, just the two of you, tomorrow. You’ve got the perfect Christmas lined up, more so than you know,” he gave a satisfied smile.

  “What were you and Jack up to this morning?” she exclaimed, suspiciously.

  “You’ll see.”

  They wandered through the streets from the hospital, down through Christmas Steps, where the team were making the most of the last few hours of shopping before taking a few welcome days off over Christmas.

  On the high street, the pavements were still bustling, but there was a sense of winding down. The light was fading, the Christmas lights were twinkling above, drunks were reeling out of pubs, well-refreshed from Christmas parties, saying extravagant goodbyes to workmates; excitement at the holidays tempered by drunken sentimentality at the thought of not seeing each other for a few days—even the people they usually did everything to avoid.

  A deep peace spread through Kate’s body and mind. As they wound their way down through St. Nicholas’s market, sidestepping last-minute shoppers in the narrow, stone-flagged corridors, the noise, the sights, and the smells were like a cozy blanket, enveloping her and warming her.

  As they went past St. Stephen’s Church, they had to flatten themselves against the wall to avoid getting in the way of an influx of people flowing through the double doors into the church.

  “Shall we?” said Daniel, cocking his head in the direction of the entrance.

  “Do you know what?” said Kate. “Why not.” She had not been inside a church since Tom’s funeral.

  They joined the tail end of the crowds and found themselves right at the back. There was a hum of chatter, and laughter, the high ceilings and stone interiors turning the speech into a soothing white noise that surrounded them.

  The candles were lit, casting a golden glow onto the children’s excited faces, and casting the side aisles into deep shadow.

  Then, as they waited, side by side, leaning against the back wall, the church fell quiet.

  Kate looked around, confused, then a lone voice, in the flickering gloom, pierced the silence. There, slowly processing up the aisle, was a phalanx of angelic choirboys in their white cotton robes, a little boy at their head who couldn’t have been much older than Jack, holding a candle that illuminated his bright blond hair.

  “Once in Royal David’s City,” he sang—pure, simple, and crystal clear, as Kate’s eyes welled up and spilled over.

  The choir sang the second verse and by the time the congregation joined in thunderously with the third, Kate was sobbing.

  “Are you okay?” said Daniel in her ear, his arm around her shoulders as he rummaged in
his pocket for a tissue.

  “I can feel,” she told him. “I can really feel again. It’s like I’ve been dead, and I’ve come back to life.”

  By the time they left the church after the nine lessons and carols, Kate’s eyes were pink and her nose was blocked, but she was elated. It was as if the cork which had been holding in all her emotions since Tom’s death had finally become dislodged. She was exhausted, but filled with joy, for the first time in years.

  And Christmas was real again. Like it had been in the past.

  “One last surprise,” Daniel told her as they all arrived at the flat. Jack was so excited he was hopping from foot to foot.

  “Me first, me first,” he said, as they opened the door to the flat. “I want to see your face.”

  She let him scamper ahead and then went in, Daniel behind, with a hint of nerves at what would be revealed.

  When she first went into the sitting room, she thought there might be something the matter with her eyes, perhaps as a result of being dazzled by the street lights or from being made bleary by all the crying.

  The cramped, ugly room had been rendered invisible because the only thing Kate’s eyes would allow her to look at was the tree.

  It was intensely overdecorated with baubles of all colors, sizes, and shapes, competing for her attention with what must have been six sets of lights, some colored, some just white, all twinkling on different settings. There were streams of multicolored tinsel, some arranged horizontally, some vertical, and some just—well—“random” was the only word for it.

  “Me and Daniel did it,” squeaked Jack. “We did it today, when you were out. D’ya like it? Do you? It’s for you. Look, there’s my salt-dough snowman on the top. I made it, and Daniel put it on the top. See?”

  “You couldn’t be Christmas Tree Girl and not have your own tree,” explained Daniel, a little sheepishly.

  “I was ‘Christmas Tree Girl’?”

  “Of course,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what else to call you. I thought about you all the time . . .”

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching up and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for making Christmas matter again. For making me a better mother. For making me want to wake up and live fully again.”