Beth noted that Jack averted his eyes. ‘No, not really. Anyway, in real life James Bond would be behind a desk doing loads of paperwork.’
‘But what about having a licence to kill?’ asked Carly.
Jack shook his head.
‘You’re deliberately spoiling it now!’
Carly and Doris went home and things returned to some semblance of normality. A few days later, Beth’s living-room carpet was finally fitted as were some inside shutters for the windows as Beth hated curtains. Shortly afterwards, the furniture she had ordered online arrived. Two simply styled deep purple sofas now dominated the living room. She still didn’t have a coffee table but it wasn’t an essential. She had bought an ornate photo frame a couple of weeks ago and now Elsie and Wilf’s photo had pride of place on the windowsill. Leo was desperate to have a television again but she wanted to save the money she’d earned at the pub for Christmas. But would Christmas be Christmas without a television? It was a double-edged sword. For now she’d stick to the plan and perhaps she could get a television in the January sales.
A busy lunchtime shift had Beth realizing that flat shoes were the way to go. She was waiting on the other side of the bar for Petra who was making up her wages. As she leaned on the bar and eased her feet out of their shoe prison, she moaned with relief just as Jack appeared.
‘You all right?’
‘My feet are literally killing me. I think they are starting by eating my toes and then working their way up.’
He chuckled. ‘Can I get you a drink or is this the last place you want to be?’
‘A drink would be great. An orange juice, thanks.’
They found a table and slipped into an amiable chat.
‘How are the feet?’
‘Relenting but they’re not looking forward to another shift tonight. Apparently it’ll be a busy one because they’re switching on the Christmas tree lights.’
‘Annual event on the green,’ said Jack. ‘Is someone taking Leo?’
‘I can’t and Petra is working too, so Leo and Denis will be in here.’
‘I could take them both, if you like?’ said Jack, with a shrug.
‘Thanks. They’d love that.’
‘What are your plans for Christmas?’ asked Jack, sipping his Diet Coke.
‘Presents first thing, then lunchtime shift here followed by a late dinner and too many chocolates. How about you?’
‘I’d not thought about it until you mentioned the lights switch-on. I guess I’ll come here with the other waifs and strays.’
‘What about your parents?’
Jack looked like he was considering his answer or perhaps he was considering whether to answer or not. ‘It was only ever my mum and she’s with a guy that … well, we don’t get on. I’ll drop by on Christmas Eve and we’ll swap presents but that’s all.’
‘Family can be complicated like that,’ said Beth and they both nodded and took synchronized sips of their drinks.
‘How about your mum and dad?’
How could she tell him that she was giving them a wide berth in case it tipped off Nick as to her whereabouts? She went for a censored version of the truth.
‘They’re away for Christmas, making the most of retirement, so we’ll catch up with them some other time.’
‘What about Leo’s father?’ asked Jack, as casually as he’d asked about Christmas.
Beth felt her pulse quicken; this was a piece of her past that she rarely shared. ‘He’s not with us any more. He was killed before Leo was born.’
‘Killed?’
‘He was a soldier. Mortar attack.’ She found sticking to facts made it somehow easier to explain. Their relationship had been tragically cut short but nearly seven years later she had moved on, taking the fond memories with her.
Jack’s face looked pained. ‘I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘It’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t okay, but you carry on. I was lucky I had Leo to focus on.’ They exchanged knowing nods. Beth finished her drink. ‘I’d better get going. Thank you for the drink.’
‘Sure. I’ll pick the boys up from here just before six then.’
‘Great. Thanks, Jack. That will make their day.’
It was almost midnight and Carly was on the sofa in the flat watching every juddery tick of the clock. She’d been stewing gently all evening and, now that Fergus was nearly an hour later than he’d said he would be, she was coming to a perfect simmer. The front door clicked and she stood up ready to ambush him. Fergus tried to hold onto the door as he staggered inside, grinning inanely. He was drunk.
‘Carly!’ he swayed precariously towards her. ‘Carly Wilson. I love you.’ He emphasized the point by wagging a finger in her face. If she hadn’t built herself up into such a strop she might have laughed. He started to frown and leaned forward. The smell of drink was overpowering. ‘Did you hear me?’ he said. ‘I love you!’
Carly started to sign and Fergus closed his eyes. ‘Not reading, not reading!’ he chanted. ‘If you’re telling me off, I don’t want to know.’ He opened one eye. Carly had stopped signing and was giving him a long hard stare. When she lifted her hands to sign again he quickly shut his eyes tight. He looked quite childlike and vulnerable as he stood there swaying slightly. He was still grinning as he tentatively opened an eye. Carly was not seeing the funny side of the situation. She knew it was funny but she wanted to be cross with him, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.
‘Come on, Carls. Where’s the fun gone?’
He was right. The fun had gone. She hadn’t noticed it slip away but somehow it had. When did he start going out and getting drunk without her? When did she start clock-watching and gaining a sense of gratification when he was late? This wasn’t how they used to be but she wasn’t sure how to put things straight. The silence seemed to close in around her as she started to realize everything that was at stake.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, and he read her lips.
Fergus steadied himself and came towards her. He pulled her tenderly into a hug and they both cried gently as he rocked her in his arms. ‘I don’t know either, Carls. I wish I did.’
After a few minutes they pulled apart and studied each other’s tear-stained faces.
‘This is crazy,’ said Fergus very quietly as he pushed his fingers through his wayward hair.
Carly nodded. He was right. ‘You sit down and I’ll get you a strong coffee.’
When she returned there was no sign of Fergus but she could hear a noise like a frantic burrowing badger coming from the cupboard.
‘Found them!’ called Fergus, before he marched into the room with a box under one arm and dragging the artificial Christmas tree behind him.
Carly raised an eyebrow and placed his coffee down a safe distance away.
‘Let’s decorate the Christmas tree,’ he said enthusiastically. Carly stood quietly watching him and thinking. She was thinking about the other years they had done this and reminisced about the year gone by. This year’s memories weren’t going to make it such a fun occasion. She watched as he put up the tree and, with his hands on his hips, surveyed it proudly, even though it was the easiest thing to erect. ‘Come on, Carls, let’s do this together,’ he said, taking her hand.
Chapter Twenty
The Christmas tree on the village green was now lit up every night and its multi-coloured lights and flashing star on the top were a sight that warmed the most ‘bah humbug’ of hearts. Ernie had taken to standing in front of it for at least thirty minutes at a time until someone took him off for a cup of tea and a warm-up. Every time Beth passed the tree, she felt the little sparkle of Christmas glimmer inside her as well as the usual growing anxiety that she wasn’t ready for it yet. The few shifts at the pub were bringing in enough money for their day-to-day needs, leaving her depleted savings to pay for utilities and the remaining work on the cottage. Thanks to Beth grabbing her glue gun when she left Nick, she had a way to make Christmas presents for people and she alw
ays felt that homemade gifts were so much nicer – something that Nick had flatly disagreed with. Now that the Christmas meals were in full swing the tips were adding up, too. Perhaps a TV wasn’t out of the question.
Beth’s phone rang. It was Carly. ‘Fergus has gone …’
‘What?’ Beth quickly digested all that this could mean.
‘I was at work and he texted to say his grandmother had been taken ill and he was going to Ireland.’
Beth felt a sense of relief that it wasn’t one of the more disastrous scenarios her mind had conjured up.
‘But he’ll be back when she gets better.’
‘I don’t think so. He’s taken some of his computer stuff from the playroom. Not all of it but don’t you think it’s odd to take stuff like that if you’ve been called to a sick relative?’
Beth pulled a face. ‘I don’t know.’
‘He’s taken his ukulele. I think he’s left me, Beth.’
And there it was, the statement Beth had been dreading. ‘I think he would have said if he was going to do that. What else did he take?’
‘Some clothes including three jumpers. That’s excessive isn’t it?’
‘No, not at all. When I went to Ireland I would have been glad of three jumpers. Very wise I’d say. I think you’re going all Miss Marple again and overthinking this.’
‘We put the Christmas tree up together the other night. We had Christmas songs playing and it was lovely. I thought things were looking a little brighter and now this …’ Carly’s voice was getting quieter with every word and Beth suspected she was fighting back tears.
‘Come on. This is Fergus we’re talking about. He’s one of the good guys. I know things have been a bit rocky but he wouldn’t lie about his grandmother being ill, would he?’
‘I guess not,’ said Carly, followed by a sniff.
‘If you’re in any doubt, ring his family, offer your best wishes and ask someone to let you know when he’s arrived.’
‘It’ll look like I’m checking up on him.’
‘No, it won’t. It’ll look like you care. Okay?’
‘Yes. Good idea. Thanks, Beth.’
Beth was still reflecting on Carly’s phone call when she opened her front door to a large tree.
‘Rockin’ around the Christmas tree …’ sang Jack from behind the foliage.
‘Are you branching out, Mr Selby?’
‘Very funny. Can I come in? It’s brass monkeys out here,’ said Jack as he shoved the tree into the hall. Beth barely managed to hop out of its way.
‘It’s huge! If you’ve stolen this from the village green people will notice, you know.’ She was grinning at her own joke.
Jack’s face bobbed from behind the tree. ‘Someone I know was selling them cheap so I got two.’
‘Who buys a spare Christmas tree?’
He propped the tree carefully against the wall. ‘I usually have one in the living room and one in the conservatory,’ he said, rather haughtily. ‘But this year I thought maybe you would like it. And, to be honest, I couldn’t be bothered to decorate two.’
‘Ah, now we have the truth. What do I owe you?’
‘Nothing. It’s your Christmas present from Doris.’
‘Then how could I refuse? Please thank Doris for me.’
‘Hang on,’ said Jack as he nipped outside and quickly returned holding something up. ‘You’ll need a stand.’
‘You think of everything. It’s a lovely tree, thank you. That’s another Christmas job I can tick off my list. Still need to get decorations though.’
‘I’ve had an idea about that,’ said Jack. ‘There’s a Christmas Fayre on this evening not far from here. I thought you and Leo might fancy going. It’d be a chance to get some decorations. Just a thought.’ He was rubbing his hands together and shifting about uneasily.
‘Yeah, that’d be great. One condition.’
‘Name it.’
‘You have to help decorate this afterwards,’ she said, pointing at the tree.
‘Deal,’ he said with a broad grin.
The chill in the air had made the Christmas Fayre extra Christmassy and thanks to Jack’s charm and haggling, they had come away with lots of sparkly things for Beth to glue to some plain picture frames to make them bespoke and special, as well as a bumper selection of decorations. The decorations were all handmade, some more rustic than others but, as they were each allocated a place on the tree, they all seemed to work together. The three of them stood back to admire their handiwork. Beth frowned at the tree.
‘Something missing?’ asked Jack as Leo gave him a playful nudge.
‘Yeah, we forgot a tree topper. You know like an angel or a star. Never mind, we could make one,’ said Beth, turning to face Jack and Leo. She looked from one to the other. ‘What’s going on?’ She narrowed her eyes.
‘We got you something,’ said Leo. His enjoyment at the secret he was clearly sharing with Jack was palpable.
‘We?’ questioned Beth, turning her stare onto Jack.
He shook his head. ‘He chose it!’
‘He paid!’ countered Leo.
Beth put her hands on her hips and a giggling Leo presented her with a brown paper bag. She opened it carefully to reveal a twig reindeer with a light-up red nose. Leo and Jack were already high-fiving each other and staggering about holding their sides as they laughed.
‘It’s fab. I love it,’ she said, bringing them to an abrupt halt. She got onto the chair they had been using to put on the higher decorations and placed the reindeer at the very top. A quick flick of a switch and the reindeer’s nose started to flash. ‘Perfect.’
She climbed down and stood with Jack and Leo as they admired the tree. It was a job well done. A tap at the window made them all jump but they quickly relaxed when they saw Ernie’s face peering inside and giving them a big smile as he pointed at the tree.
‘What does Ernie do at Christmas?’ asked Beth as she watched through the window as Ernie walked away.
‘Mmm. Good question. He used to spend it here with Wilf. The last couple of years I know Petra has brought Christmas dinner over from the pub, so I think I’ll see if I can convince him to come to the pub with me.’
Leo gave his mother a pleading look but didn’t say anything.
‘If you don’t mind having a late dinner, you and Ernie could always eat here with us,’ said Beth. She tried to sound casual but for some reason it seemed like a big thing to be asking.
Jack was scratching his head and biting the inside of his mouth, which made for an unusual sight. ‘I think Ernie would like that.’
‘I’d like it too!’ said Leo. ‘Doris is invited too, isn’t she, Mum?’
‘Yes, Doris is invited too.’
‘Cool!’ said Leo. His eyes wide, he looked towards Jack awaiting his definitive answer.
‘Yeah, okay then. Thanks, I’d love to come,’ he said as he leaned in and kissed Beth lightly on the cheek. In that fleeting moment she could smell his aftershave, feel the roughness of his chin against her cheek and feel something stir inside.
The next few days whizzed by in a frenzy of glue gun crafting, last-minute shopping, school plays, shifts at the pub and late night present-wrapping. Carly was calling every evening with an update on the Fergus situation as well as his grandmother’s health. The old lady had suffered a stroke and some other complications so things were not looking promising. Fergus had told Carly he was struggling with his deafness as none of the family could sign apart from his little brother who had learned a little Irish Sign Language from a friend, swear words mainly, but still. The trouble was, Irish Sign Language differed to the British Sign Language that Fergus was used to so it was all proving to be a struggle. His lip-reading had improved but it was still not perfect so he had been reduced to asking people to write things down which Carly knew was always a last resort as it made him feel like an idiot and he hated that feeling.
The good thing seemed to be that they were missing each other. They were te
xting each other constantly, which was a big improvement. So, despite Carly’s fears, he didn’t appear to have left her. They had also exchanged apologies for the last few months and were now making plans for Christmas. Maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder after all?
Beth had made reassuring noises on each phone call with Carly and hoped, as Carly did, that Fergus was missing her as much as he said he was. When the phone went on 23 December, Beth knew who it would be.
‘Hiya, Carls, happy Christmas Eve Eve!’
‘And to you. What ya doin’?’
‘Removing giblets from a turkey,’ she said as she balanced the phone precariously between her ear and shoulder. ‘How about you?’
‘Euw!’ said Carly with feeling. ‘I’ve put the last of the presents under the tree and poured myself a large glass of wine.’
‘What’s the latest?’
‘No change is all the hospital will say so the family are still on high alert and keeping a bedside vigil. He’s sent me some lovely texts, I think he really is missing me and not only as a BSL interpreter.’
‘That’s good, and are you missing him?’
‘More than I thought possible. I just want things back how they were. I don’t need a proposal but I do need Fergus. I know that for sure.’
‘Great. What’s happening about Christmas?’
There was a deep sigh from Carly’s end. ‘He says he’ll be home for Christmas even if he has to get leprechauns to carry him but I’m not so sure. I spoke to his mum tonight whilst he was at the hospital and she was all apologetic that he wouldn’t be back for Christmas and asked if I had considered flying over there!’
‘So, what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’
‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, Carls, you’re kind of running out of time.’
‘I know, but I don’t want to spend Christmas surrounded by his family. And I don’t want to be on my own. I want it to be just the two of us here.’
‘Then you’d better hope those leprechauns are fast runners!’
Christmas Cheer Page 9