Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Abby Clements

  ‘Opposites attract, I suppose,’ Rachel said, with a shrug. ‘And old friends, well, even when your lives go in different directions, you have all that history together, don’t you?’

  ‘I suppose,’ Diana said, sounding unconvinced. ‘Listen, Alfie’s whining for a walk, I’d better take him out. I’ll be thinking of Bea today. All fingers crossed. You’ll let me know how she gets on, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course, Diana. Speak to you soon.’

  Aiden poured their morning coffee into two mugs. ‘What about that Reindeer Wonderland event you mentioned?’ he said. He and Rachel had decided it was better to keep Zak and Milly busy, take their minds off their grandmother’s operation.

  ‘That’s what I was thinking,’ Rachel said. ‘I suggested it to them. I just need to convince Milly it’s going to be more fun than a trip to Oxford Street.’ Rachel could hear her daughter talking on her phone in the bedroom. She hadn’t been out of her room all morning.

  ‘Reindeer Wonderland sounds brilliant,’ Zak said, overhearing them and bounding into the kitchen. ‘Ice skating outside, real, live reindeers, are we going, Mum? Please can we go?’

  ‘Let’s talk to your sister again in a minute,’ Rachel said. ‘But I’m fairly sure it can be arranged, yes, Zak.’

  Aiden put an arm around his son and planted a kiss on the top of his head. ‘You be good for your mum today, Zak. And if you see Santa, could you tell him that I’ve been a really good boy this year?’ He paused. ‘And for the record I’d love a yacht. And if he has space on his sleigh, then a Porsche too.’ Zak giggled and leaned in to his dad for a hug.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t join us later?’ Rachel asked Aiden.

  Aiden looked at his son briefly and then back at Rachel. He dropped his voice to a lower, more serious, tone. ‘I thought you understood,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I do,’ Rachel said. ‘It’s just, it would be so nice if—’

  Aiden breathed out slowly. ‘You know I’d love to, Rach. But my head’s still spinning from the quote that last furniture company gave me – I’ve got to find someone else who can install the shelving and units more cheaply. And then with Mum’s operation—’

  Zak jumped in right away, ‘Is Granny Bea going to be OK?’

  ‘Don’t worry, honey,’ Rachel said, ruffling Zak’s brown hair and trying to push aside her own fears. ‘After her operation, Granny Bea is going to be ready for anything.’

  Rachel, Milly and Zak’s first stop was the outdoor ice rink, close to the entrance. Rachel queued up at the boot-hire stand, and Zak and Milly sat down on a bench to watch couples and families sweeping around the ice with varying degrees of elegance.

  ‘A pair of size 5s, size 4s and size 13s please,’ she asked the surly female stall attendant, handing over her Uggs, Milly’s DMs and Zak’s trainers.

  ‘Here,’ the woman said, dumping three pairs of skates unceremoniously on the counter. Rachel started to wonder if this had been the best place to bring Milly and Zak. It had been years since she’d been ice skating and she was sure she’d be spending half the time on her bum.

  Rachel walked back to the bench and knelt in front of Zak, helping him get his small feet into the ice skates as Milly put on her own. There was a faraway look in Milly’s eyes.

  After a shaky start, all three of them were soon gliding around the rink – Milly had a real talent for it. Rachel slowly started to remember the ice skating she’d done when she was younger and was able to lead Zak around. As Milly spun in the centre of the fairy-lit rink, a wide smile on her face, for a moment all of Rachel’s worries disappeared.

  ‘But he definitely liked it, didn’t he, Mum?’ Zak said cheekily. He had smuggled Rudolph Junior a mini mince pie while Rachel was distracted.

  ‘You really mustn’t do that again, Zak. Like the reindeer keeper said,’ Rachel said, trying to keep a straight face, while out of the corner of her eye she could see Milly failing to stifle her giggles. ‘I mean, imagine,’ Rachel continued, ‘if he ate mince pies from everyone who came in here he’d soon be far too fat to take off.’

  ‘And then,’ Milly chipped in, ‘how would Santa deliver all of our presents?’

  Rachel took a bite from her own mince pie, then shook off a small lump of mincemeat that had fallen down on to her snowflake scarf.

  She put her arms around her daughter and son and they walked towards the elaborate enchanted lake in the middle of the park, with Santa’s grotto in the centre of it. A few metres in front of them was the jetty, where green and white-clad elves rowed visitors out in sleigh-shaped boats.

  ‘Now, who’s up for rowing out to the grotto?’ she said, pointing to the lake ahead of them. Families and couples wrapped up in duffel coats and bobble hats were piling into the little boats captained by elves. Zak and Milly didn’t waste a minute, they raced each other across the park, towards the water, their laughter ringing out.

  From: Carter@yahoo.com

  To: Millypede@gmail.com

  Hi Milly,

  I’m not being funny, but it’s been a couple of days and I haven’t heard anything from you. Have I done something wrong? What’s going on?

  C x

  From: Millypede@gmail.com

  To: LaurieGreenaway@virgin.net

  Hi Laurie,

  Me again. Can I ask your advice? About this guy. I don’t know – he was so nice at first, and now he’s just being well – intense. He seemed really cool when we met, but that was only once. My friend Kate called me today and said he’s been asking her and some of my other friends about me. What do you think I should do?

  Milly x

  From: LaurieGreenaway@virgin.net

  To: Millypede@gmail.com

  Hi Mills,

  Hmm. So he’s really keen. Nice, but also a bit of a turn-off, right? Maybe give it a bit of time, play it cool, see if he chills out a bit. It’s good (and of course a sign of his fantastic taste) that he obviously really likes you. As you’re away from home, you have some space to make up your mind, right? Wait and see, I reckon.

  Good luck,

  Love,

  Laurie xx

  Rachel had expected to find Aiden at home when they got back, but the flat was empty. She settled Milly and Zak down with their tea and left the room to call him.

  ‘Rach,’ he said, picking up almost immediately.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Where are you? How did it go today?’

  ‘I’m on my way back from the hospital,’ he said. There was the trace of something in his voice that she barely recognised, it sounded like fear. ‘It didn’t go well.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rachel said, her heart starting to race. ‘Didn’t they remove the tumour?’

  ‘No, It’s not that …’ His voice broke. ‘Something happened in surgery, Rach. Something went wrong.’

  Rachel’s hand flew up to her chest. ‘What do you mean, wrong?’

  The line went silent for a moment.

  ‘Mum didn’t come around from the anaesthetic, Rach. She’s in a coma.’

  CHAPTER 15

  Wednesday 6th December

  Laurie put on a red gingham apron and cast her eye over the array of ingredients laid out in the cottage kitchen. Outside it was a dark winter evening, but inside the cottage it was bright and cosy.

  She tried to ignore the muddied mess of the kitchen walls, made worse by her attempts to cover up the initial smoke damage. She really hadn’t held back at the farmers’ market at the weekend, and there was a lot of food left over – the only problem was that she didn’t have a clue what to do with any of it.

  She scanned the recipe books on the kitchen shelf, looking for something simple enough for her to manage. She pulled one out, a hand-made hardback, with gold lettering across the cover. She saw right away that it wasn’t an ordinary recipe book – on the cover were the words: Bea’s Countdown to Christmas. She thought then about Rachel’s emotional phone call earlier that evening – she’d called to say Bea had fallen into a coma. Laurie had i
nsisted that they stay in her flat as long as they needed. They needed to be there, and she’d find something to keep her busy in Skipley.

  Laurie sat down and opened the book. Inside were prettily handwritten Christmas recipes with dates next to them. It was all so organised – Laurie saw that according to Bea’s plans, some of the dishes, like the Christmas cake, should already have been prepared.

  The recipes looked simple enough for even Laurie to follow. She found one for glazed ham and figs that looked grand and impressive in the illustration, and checked she had all the right ingredients.

  She poured a glass of wine and sipped it as she went, preparing the ham and figs according to the step by step instructions. Cooking wasn’t all that hard, was it? She looked at the half-drunk bottle of red wine on the counter. Perhaps that was the secret. She put the food in the Aga, being careful to set the oven timer – no way she was going to get caught out this time.

  The landline phone rang.

  ‘Laurie.’ Siobhan’s warm Irish tones couldn’t have been more welcome. She curled up in the squishiest armchair there and poured herself another glass of red wine as they talked.

  ‘How’s it all going?’ she said. ‘How are you coping out there in the countryside? Are you starving?’

  ‘No,’ Laurie said. ‘Actually, I’m cooking a meal right now. A proper one.’

  ‘Crikey,’ Siobhan said. ‘Have you been brainwashed?’

  ‘Nope,’ Laurie replied. ‘There’s just not much else to do around here. Danny’s cut off access to my work email, so I can’t even check my messages.’

  ‘And you’re OK about that?’

  ‘I wasn’t at first,’ Laurie said. ‘But now – actually I don’t really mind that much.’

  ‘Well that’s good to hear. And how are the locals?’

  ‘Oh, some are nice. Not all of them welcome outsiders with open arms, but I’m working my way in.’

  ‘How? Bake sales?’

  ‘Noo …’ Laurie laughed, ‘actually, no … I’m doing some charity work.’ She carried on talking over Siobhan’s laughter. ‘How’s school going anyway?’

  ‘Oh fine, most of my Year Tens are coming to the after-school art club now. It’s chaos – but hopefully we’ll get a few more passes this year.’

  ‘Sounds good. And have you met Rachel?’ Laurie asked.

  ‘Indeed I have,’ Siobhan said, ‘we went to Jay’s gig together the other night.’

  ‘Oh, you did?’ Laurie asked, feigning nonchalance.

  ‘Yes – she’s lovely. First time I’d been out in ages, actually. I’ve been, how can I say it, a bit tied up lately.’

  ‘Tied up?’ Laurie said. ‘It’s P.E. Man, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yep. Ed. Totally into it.’

  ‘I knew it!’ Laurie, said. ‘I can’t believe you’re deserting me. Sorry – what I mean, of course, is good for you, you deserve it. I mean, Christ, it’s been long enough coming. Right – I want the full run-down when I’m back.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Laurie paused for a moment, thinking of Jay, the gig they’d all been to without her. ‘How’s everything else in the block?’

  ‘Do you mean how’s Jay?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Laurie snapped back, defensively.

  ‘Well, not that you care, but he’s fine, I think. I haven’t seen him much lately. He’s been doing more of his furniture stuff, I think. Are you wondering about that blonde girl, the singer?’

  ‘I’m not wondering anything,’ Laurie said. ‘Is she a singer? What, in his band?’

  ‘Look, do you want me to ask him about her?’ Siobhan said. ‘Find out what’s going on, rather than us just guessing?’

  ‘No!’ Laurie said. ‘Definitely not. Don’t ask him anything. I don’t want him to think I’m snooping around, that I can’t let go.’ The oven timer pinged. ‘Look, Siobhan, I’ve got to go, my dinner’s ready. But thanks for ringing.’

  As she got the ham out of the oven, Laurie looked again at all the food she had – the ham alone was big enough for two people, and then she still had all the cheeses she’d picked up at the farmers’ market. What was she going to do, sit here alone gorging herself on the whole lot? Then something else caught her eye – the blackened walls. She couldn’t let Rachel come back to that mess.

  A thought flitted into Laurie’s head. She did her best to dismiss it, but, to her annoyance, it wasn’t going anywhere. It was what Ben from the café had said about Diana. She was an interior designer, right? Surely, in return for a nice dinner, she’d be able to offer a bit of advice on fixing things up?

  Maybe Diana had her reasons for being the way she was, Laurie reasoned. Perhaps she’d been a little hasty in writing Rachel’s neighbour off so quickly. She hadn’t been that bad at the community centre, she’d even introduced Laurie to the other women – and, Laurie thought idly, Patrick. Her eyes drifted back to the walls – surely Diana would be able to suggest something?

  Taking a deep breath, Laurie got up, pulled on her coat and headed over in the direction of what she was pretty sure was Diana’s cottage. She must be mad, she thought, as she walked towards a house that was nearly identical to Rachel’s, only with an even more immaculately pruned front garden. A Christmas wreath hung on the door, just above a bronze knocker. Before she could change her mind, Laurie lifted the knocker and brought it down in a series of quick raps.

  When Diana finally opened her front door, she looked almost pleased to have a visitor, and to Laurie’s relief accepted her invitation graciously. In the background the TV blared Don’t Tell the Bride into an elegant, Laura-Ashley-inspired vision of a living room, with white sofas and flowered drapes. ‘Wait a second while I grab Alfie,’ she said, going up the stairs. ‘He always likes going to Rachel’s place.’ As she waited in the hallway, wondering who or what Alfie was likely to be, she caught sight of some cardboard in the green recycling box in Diana’s kitchen. She stepped forward to take a closer look. Ha! Laurie thought with a rush of satisfaction. A Domino’s pizza box was poking out the side.

  ‘Spray paint,’ Diana said, tears of laughter coming to her eyes. ‘You tried to paint over it with that?’ She held up the can in disbelief.

  ‘I know,’ Laurie said, starting to see the funny side. Diana had been kinder than she’d expected about offering to help. ‘Desperate times. I’ve not painted much myself before.’

  ‘Listen,’ Diana said, ‘this should be easy enough to fix. It doesn’t take an interior designer, you’ll be able to get everything you need at the hardware store on the high street. Some emulsion will do it, a couple of layers. Take a photo in daylight and then you’ll be able to match the colour better.’

  Half an hour later Laurie and Diana were sitting at the kitchen table in the cottage, most of the way through a bottle of Malbec.

  Alfie, it turned out, was a ‘chiweenie’ – with the body of a dachshund, the ears of a Chihuahua and – based on this evening’s performance – the appetite of a Great Dane. Under the table, he darted between their feet, trying to catch scraps, every so often emitting a high-pitched yap.

  ‘You did pretty well, here,’ Diana said, loading her fork up with ham. ‘An improvement on your last effort, anyway.’ A sly smile crept on to the corner of her lips.

  ‘Thank you,’ Laurie said, not rising to the bait. It had been with a mixture of pride, surprise and relief that she’d realised the meal was not only edible, it was actually quite tasty.

  Diana drained her third glass of wine. ‘No, thank you,’ she said, slurring her words a little. ‘For inviting me. I know you must have thought I was stuck up.’

  It was only because her mouth was full that Laurie managed to maintain a tactful silence.

  ‘I know that’s what most people think, nowadays,’ she went on. ‘But it’s not that. You know what? It’s just been a really, truly crap year, Laurie. And sometimes trying to be nice, on top of it all,’ she said, banging the table for emphasis, ‘is just too damn difficult.’

&nb
sp; Laurie saw her neighbour in a new light. She hadn’t planned on getting Diana plastered – but if she’d known it would reveal the real Diana, she might have.

  ‘I’m over it, really I am,’ Diana said, taking another sip of wine. ‘But seriously –’ she shook her head mournfully – ‘you think you know someone …’

  ‘… and they leave you for a man?’ Laurie ventured.

  ‘How did you …?’ Diana squinted tipsily and waggled her finger in Laurie’s direction.

  ‘Just a hunch,’ Laurie lied.

  ‘I mean how could I not have realised, right?’ Diana said, sweeping Alfie up on to her lap and stroking his bat-like ears.

  ‘He may not even have known, himself,’ Laurie said. ‘Anyway, now you can move on to better things.’

  ‘You’re right, you know,’ Diana said, stroking Alfie’s head so that his eyes looked even bulgier. ‘Actually, since Richard left the business has been going from strength to strength, so he did me a favour on that front.’

  ‘What kind of interiors do you specialise in?’ Laurie asked.

  ‘Oh, I do everything really – cottages, windmills, barns …’ she said. ‘Been doing it for years, but with a bit of a push behind the marketing it’s really taking off at last. Aiden and I have worked together on a couple of barn projects. You know, I keep telling Rachel she should get involved.’

  ‘Really?’ Laurie asked, surprised. She’d always assumed Rachel was content being a stay-at-home mum.

  ‘Yes – genius, she is. The way she’s decorated the kids’ rooms here – all her own ideas.’ Laurie smiled, thinking of the pirate ship in Zak’s bedroom. ‘I’d like to be able to offer that kind of thing – and I’d be happy to pay for her to have a bit of training. You can teach the details, but you can’t teach flair – and that’s what Rachel’s got. Anyway, work on her for me, will you? She keeps coming up with excuses.’