Christmas Cheer

by Bella Osborne

  ‘Yes, that would be great.’

  ‘Okay. See you tomorrow,’ she said, before leaning past Beth to shout goodbye to Leo.

  Beth was horrified that she had forgotten to collect Leo from school and so grateful to Petra for bringing him home. In London, she had paid for a child minder to do school drop-off and pick-up so hadn’t had to think about it before, but that was no excuse and she felt wretched. Leo was in the living room cuddling Doris. Beth went over and put her arms round both of them – well, as much of Doris’s large frame as she could.

  ‘I’m truly sorry, Leo. No excuses. I got caught up here. Forgive me?’

  Leo’s bottom lip was stuck out and his eyebrows were knitted into a deep frown. He returned his mother’s hug but said nothing. Beth got the message loud and clear.

  It took days to get to all the wallpaper off and the wall underneath was a disappointing treasure to unearth. The plaster was old and cracked and a lifetime of bumps had made its surface worse than a crumbling cliff face. Beth made a cup of tea, brought in one of the kitchen chairs and sat and stared at the wall for a while. Doris sat next to her and looked too. From time to time the dog tilted her head as if admiring a great work of art. ‘I know, it’s bumpier than a teenager’s face,’ said Beth, and Doris groaned appropriately before settling down for a nap. Beth couldn’t afford to get a plasterer in but if she painted over it now it would look such a mess and nothing like the smooth sleek white walls she had dreamed about.

  Beth decided to leave it for now, mull over her limited options and, in the meantime, she would tackle Leo’s bedroom, or what would briefly be Leo’s room. She was thrilled to discover there were only three layers of wallpaper on those walls so it was relatively easy, and she was just finishing as Petra dropped Leo off.

  Leo followed his mother upstairs. ‘We’ve been learning about rockets and fireworks at school,’ said Leo, fidgeting from one foot to the other as Doris circled him. ‘And about firework safety too.’

  ‘Great,’ said Beth, scraping at a tricky bit next to the skirting board.

  ‘They have this massive bonfire on the village green and there’s a competition to make the best guy and, if it wins, it goes on top and gets burned! Can we make a guy, Mum, pleeeeease?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ Beth was pleased to see him excited about something.

  ‘Can I use your trousers?’ he said as he ran to her bedroom with Doris close at his heels.

  ‘No!’

  Beth was regretting letting the hire car go. It was true she hadn’t used it much but, in a village where the arrival of a bus was seen on the same scale as water into wine, she was fast realizing the benefits. A quick trip into Stow-on-the-Wold and a rummage round the couple of charity shops there would most likely turn up an outfit for a guy, but there wouldn’t be a bus until tomorrow and then it would be when Leo was at school.

  Leo and Doris were in the back garden and Beth was meant to be drinking a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. She found she was grinding her teeth as she watched Ernie sitting huddled under the willow tree. She was mulling over whether to ask someone for a lift. It didn’t sit comfortably, as she wasn’t the sort of person that liked to rely on others, but she had a small boy who she would do anything in the world for. She listed the options in her mind: Petra had a pale pink moped but she wouldn’t be insured to ride it and wouldn’t fancy having Leo on the back either, so that was out of the question. Simon had a car but she had no idea when he was at work and when he wasn’t and didn’t want to disturb him. It was looking increasingly like she was going to have to call Jack if she wanted a lift.

  She boiled up the kettle and invited Ernie in for a cuppa. He came into the kitchen, sat on the tearoom reject chair opposite Beth, and hugged his mug.

  ‘Do you go to the shops in Stow, Ernie?’ she asked. Ernie shook his head. ‘I need to go to Stow but I don’t have a car any more.’

  Ernie’s eyes were fixed on his tea so she assumed he wasn’t really listening.

  ‘I need to get a lift from someone with a car. Someone that isn’t Jack,’ she said as she mimicked Ernie and stared into her mug.

  ‘Shirley got a car,’ said Ernie, without looking up.

  ‘Shirley?’ said Beth. Ernie nodded. ‘Has got a car?’ Ernie looked up and nodded again. ‘Shirley with the wheelie trolley has a car?’ Ernie was looking worried as he nodded for a third time, this time much slower. ‘Thanks, Ernie, that’s good to know.’

  Ernie finished his tea, thanked Beth, let himself out and went back to sit under the willow.

  When there was a knock at the door, Beth was still chuckling to herself about Ernie’s revelation, although she doubted he had got his facts right. If Beth was smiling as she opened the door it soon disappeared as she took in the sight of Shirley, minus her wheelie trolley, wringing together gloved hands.

  ‘Ernie says you need a lift urgently,’ said Shirley, as she nodded her head to the driveway. Beth looked over to see a very shiny old car.

  ‘It’s not exactly urgent,’ said Beth, feeling her palms start to sweat.

  ‘Do you want a lift somewhere or not?’ asked Shirley, as Doris came to investigate though she soon wandered off again without a sound when there was no trolley. Leo took Doris’s place and Beth felt his small warm hand grip hers.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Okay, yes please, a lift to Stow would be terrific. If you’re sure?’ Shirley was already walking back to the ancient car. Perhaps she lives in the car, thought Beth.

  Beth put the lead on Doris and a coat on Leo and they joined Shirley at the shiny car. Shirley pointed at the dog without saying anything. ‘I didn’t like to leave her because Jack says she eats walls if she gets left,’ said Beth, making what she hoped came across as an apologetic face.

  ‘In the back,’ said Shirley, pointing at Doris and then at Leo who was wrestling with his car seat.

  It was a strange little car. It had a domed bonnet, a lot like an old Beetle, and wooden edges at its van-like rear. Beth got in the passenger seat and was relieved to see seat belts, which she hurriedly did up. She checked on Leo and he was strapped in too. Doris was next to him taking up the rest of the back seat, sniffing wildly. The car smelled heavily of vinegar, Beth looked around for any evidence of it being a mobile chip van or of Shirley living in it, but there was nothing to suggest either. As Beth was looking around she spotted that right in the very back was Shirley’s wheelie trolley, and she prayed that Doris didn’t spot it too.

  Shirley fiddled around the steering column and, at last, the vehicle chugged into life. Shirley took hold of the very large three-pronged steering wheel and gripped it tightly as she revved the engine. ‘Ready?’ she said, her eyes glinting like a racing driver’s.

  ‘Err, well …’ but it was too late for second thoughts as the little car took off down the gravel track leaving Willow Cottage and a happily waving Ernie behind.

  Beth found she was clinging onto the seat and bravely let go. Shirley was so small she was actually looking through the steering wheel rather than over it. Due to the recent rain, the ford was flowing nicely through the village and across the road. Beth looked at Shirley and then back at the ford. She wasn’t going fast but she certainly needed to slow down. Some tourists were crouched down innocently feeding the ducks as Shirley’s little car hit the water at about twenty miles per hour and sent a beautifully arced shield of water over the top of them. The ducks took flight, quacking in alarm as they did so. Shirley and Leo started to cackle with laughter as Beth looked on in horror.

  ‘What sort of car is this?’ Beth asked, the question more to take her mind off imminent death than anything else.

  ‘Nineteen sixty-four Morris Minor Traveller,’ replied Shirley, turning to give Beth her beaming false-teeth grin. ‘Marvellous, isn’t she?’

  Beth could think of quite a few words to describe the death trap she was destined to spend her final moments in but marvellous wasn’t top of her list. ‘Oh, she’s something else,’ said Beth
, nodding her encouragement in the hope that Shirley would turn her eyes back to the road. Shirley seemed happy with the response and returned to facing forward. Beth exhaled and looked in the back; Leo looked quite relaxed and smiled at his mother, Doris on the other hand appeared to have a strong sense of foreboding as she was hunkered down on the seat. Beth and Doris exchanged worried glances.

  The same short and straightforward journey in the hire car was like a rally event in the Morris Minor, as Shirley appeared to know a short cut that took them down various back roads, each one getting narrower and narrower. When they met the inevitable tractor coming the other way, Beth actually breathed in, which was going to make no difference to the size of the vehicle. She heard the hedgerow clatter against the paintwork on her side but somehow they made it past without crashing. Eventually they popped out onto a normal-sized road, which thankfully led them quickly to the A429, and Beth at least knew they were nearly there.

  As they drove into Stow-on-the-Wold, Shirley took her eyes off the road again and turned to Beth. ‘So, where are we going exactly?’

  ‘Charity shops please.’

  ‘Charity shops?’ repeated Shirley, with more than a hint of a question in her voice. Shirley continued to look at Beth, who was amazed that they were still going in a straight line and hadn’t hit anything.

  Mercifully, Leo stepped in to provide an answer. ‘I want to make a guy to go on the top of the huge bonfire they have on the village green.’

  ‘Oh, now you’re talking!’ said Shirley, and she swerved the car across the road and headed towards a neat line of parked cars. Shirley appeared to be braking but very little was happening to slow the car down. Beth closed her eyes as she imagined the cars all concertinaing as they hit the first one. The car halted without a crash and Beth opened one eye.

  ‘Here we are then,’ said Shirley, her tone relaxed. ‘See you back here in thirty minutes.’ Shirley got out of the car as if everything was completely as it should be. Beth gave herself a mental shake and hoped her heart rate would eventually return to normal. She got out and collected Leo and a sullen-looking Doris from the back seat as Shirley opened up the back doors and retrieved the wheelie trolley. Just in time, Beth managed to steer Doris away before she saw her nemesis.

  A short walk brought them to a jam-packed charity shop. Doris sat outside and looked forlornly through the glass door. The charity shop was a whole new experience for Leo and he was amazed at the eclectic mix of clothes available. The first pair of trousers he chose were orange and in a size that reminded Beth of their tent. She was trying to dissuade Leo on the basis of the huge amount of stuffing that would be required when he found some average-sized bright red cords that he loved even more. A white shirt, with long pointy ends to its collar, and a black suit jacket completed the ensemble. Leo was disappointed that they didn’t have the right style of Guy Fawkes hat but Beth was able to persuade him that they would make one along with a papier-mâché head. She wasn’t totally sure how, but that was a problem for another day.

  Whilst browsing Beth also found some denim dungarees in her size that would be a much better option for decorating than her skinny jeans. She discovered the hat section, and like a child in a sweet shop, she marvelled at the variety that was there. Beth had always had a thing for hats; she loved them and found herself smiling as she picked some out. She put on a navy beret and looked in the mirror – it really suited her but her smile faded as she remembered why she had stopped wearing hats. It was one of many things Nick had encouraged her to change about her appearance. She held onto the beret as she rummaged through the others.

  Armed with their purchases, they returned to the Morris Minor at the same time as Shirley and the wheelie trolley. Doris went apoplectic and Beth struggled to restrain her as she barked frantically and lurched at it.

  Shirley calmly rolled her eyes, put the trolley in the boot of the car and went round to the driver’s door. ‘Well, get in then.’

  Being in the car with a large dog barking at full volume was no fun. Leo had his hands tightly over his ears as Beth hung onto Doris’s lead from the passenger seat whilst Doris was hanging over the top of the back seat only inches away from the trolley. Shirley seemed oblivious as she manoeuvred the car into the path of a bus and they started the treacherous journey back to Dumbleford.

  ‘Doris! Be quiet!’ shouted Beth, but she was barely audible. Doris briefly glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of a plea for support. ‘Come on, Doris, be a good dog.’ Beth tried to mollify the animal to no avail. After an ear-splitting fifteen minutes they arrived back in Dumbleford, sailing through the ford again at speed and creating a mini tsunami that made the ducks take flight once more.

  Shirley drove the car around the green and up to the large Tudor house that dominated it, and then confidently down the side of the property, directly into a large open garage at the back. As the darkness of the garage enveloped them, Doris paused for a moment, giving Beth a chance to hook the lead onto the handbrake as she scooted out of the car. She leaned back in through the rear door, released the lead and was then able to drag Doris out. She was keen to get her as far away from the trolley as quickly as she could.

  ‘Thanks for the lift, Shirley.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Shirley, heading for the back of the vehicle. Beth pulled Doris away and turned round to see Leo picking up conkers from under a giant horse chestnut tree.

  ‘Come on, Leo,’ she called, as she took in the large garden and equally impressive rear view of the house. Beth had lots of questions she wanted to ask Shirley but now was not the time. Beth vowed not to make assumptions about people after this, although she knew she probably would.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carly shut the kitchen window as the flat was starting to feel chilly. ‘It sounds like Beth and Leo are going to have fun on Bonfire Night,’ signed Carly. ‘Shall we go out somewhere?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ replied Fergus.

  ‘But there are some really good displays in London. They had a funfair at Wimbledon Park last year and the fireworks at Alexandra Palace are meant to be spectacular.’

  ‘Too many people. Too much noise,’ said Fergus, with an apologetic shrug. Whilst his confidence was good at small social gatherings he was still not great in a crowd. The indistinguishable noise was often overpowering and always seemed to outweigh any enjoyment. He had become much more confident over the last couple of years as his sign language and lip-reading skills had improved but there were still some things he shied away from.

  Carly was a little downhearted; she liked fireworks night. It had always been a big thing when she was a child and there was something about fireworks that she found mesmerizing.

  Fergus was fiddling with his phone. ‘Nick texted me today.’

  ‘What did you do?’ asked Carly.

  ‘Deleted it. Did you get one?’

  Carly nodded slowly. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did you do?’ asked Fergus, tilting his head slightly and making his dark hair flop to one side.

  ‘I said I’d meet him for a coffee.’

  Fergus’s eyes widened. ‘Why? He’s a shit who hit your friend.’

  ‘I know, but I feel sorry for him.’

  ‘You shouldn’t. There’s no excuse. I’m not happy about you seeing him on your own, Carls.’

  Carly wasn’t used to the laid-back Fergus making statements like that and she chuckled. ‘Why? Because he’s a good-looking charmer?’

  ‘No, because he hits women. I’ll come with you, if that’s okay?’

  Carly felt a little glow of something inside. Despite all her values of being an independent woman, there was still something powerful about a man who wanted to protect you.

  Carly pondered what he’d said and Fergus waited. ‘Okay. Fine. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about what we talked about in the restaurant.’

  Fergus pulled a face. ‘Going to Ireland?’

  Exactly as she thought, he had forgotten. ‘No, about us
being happy.’

  ‘I’m still happy.’ He pulled her into a hug and squeezed her tight. He relaxed his grip a little and kissed her tenderly on the end of her nose, making her smile. ‘I love you, Carly Wilson,’ he said.

  Her hands were trapped in the hug so she spoke instead. ‘I love you, too.’ He smiled broadly. ‘I know you said you were happy just as things were but I’ve been thinking. Do you want to take the next step?’ She knew she was talking fast.

  He was squinting at her lips, which probably meant he hadn’t understood her or it meant he had understood and that was his reaction. The silence stretched between them. Sod it, thought Carly, time to change the subject.

  She pulled her hands free. ‘Shall we watch a film?’

  ‘No, football is on.’ He was still looking puzzled and still focusing on her lips as if they held the answer. Carly subconsciously licked her lips and the spell was broken. Fergus let her go and settled himself on the sofa and Carly’s shoulders sagged. Where did she go from here?

  Jack and Simon were now regulars at Beth’s house most evenings as they worked on the kitchen. The units appeared to have been the easy part and they were all put together in a couple of nights. Fitting them to the exacting standards of Jack and Simon was another challenge. They had both approved of her choice of cabinets, doors and worktop which she liked to think didn’t bother her but if they had not been impressed she knew she would have taken it personally. Having left behind a state-of-the-art stainless steel and black gloss kitchen in London, she knew she had to choose something that fitted with the cottage’s history as well as feeling up to date. What she had chosen was simple grooved oak doors painted in an off-white shade with worktops in natural oak stave – it was the best she could afford.

  She had managed to salvage the sink and the men were measuring and re-measuring before they committed to cutting a sink-sized hole in the longest length of worktop. Jack’s lean muscles tightened under his T-shirt as he moved the worktop to a better angle. Beth found herself mesmerized and, realizing, she hastily looked away. ‘Anyway, I have a guy that needs stuffing,’ she said quickly and left them smirking over their fresh cups of tea and custard creams as she retreated to the living room.