Every Woman for Herself

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘Mouse Hunt!’ Father announced loudly, putting his empty glass down. ‘The one who finds the most wins the chocolate mouse. Come on Jess!’

  He seized her hand and she looked surprised. ‘But isn’t it just for the children, Ran? I mean—’

  ‘Children? No – why should they have all the fun?’ Dragging her with him he rushed out into the hall and flung open the door of the grandfather clock.

  ‘Aha! One!’

  ‘Come on, Mace,’ I said. ‘Not finding any is a true mark of shame.’

  ‘Don’t you Rhymers have an unfair advantage? You will know where they all are from previous years.’

  ‘Oh, Em and Gloria always find more new places – and this year there are fifty, because there are more of us to find them.’

  The others, swept along by Father’s enthusiasm, had left the room on his heels, but I tarried long enough to remove a green mouse from the music box on the mantelpiece, and two more from behind the fire dogs.

  Mace, getting into the swing of things, beat me to the slightly warm one in the light fitting.

  We had a good number by the time we passed Em in the kitchen (there never are any in there – it’s too under her feet) and descended the stairs to my cottage.

  ‘Will there be any down here?’ Mace asked.

  ‘Not usually, but there might be this year,’ I told him, resolutely bolting the door at the bottom of the stairs. ‘There, that should hold the others off if they think of it.’

  ‘Oh?’ he said, a gleam in his eyes. ‘Isn’t that cheating, or did you have something else in mind?’

  ‘I’ve got a couple of things to say, Mace.’

  ‘And I’ve got something to say to you, too, darling – or break to you before dinner, when your father tells me he intends to spill the beans.’

  ‘Spill the beans?’ I echoed, forgetting my own news. ‘About what?’

  ‘You first,’ he ordered. ‘And this had better be a confession that you’re dying to marry me after all!’

  ‘No-o…’ I said, avoiding his dark eyes. ‘No – I – it’s…’ I took a deep breath and took the plunge. ‘Mace, I’m pregnant.’

  Mace stopped lounging elegantly against the table and stared at me. ‘Pregnant? My God! Charlie – but you told me you couldn’t – that you were—’

  ‘Barren? I know. And I’m sorry, Mace. I did think I was.’

  He strode across the room and seized me. ‘Sorry? What the hell are you sorry about? It’s wonderful! Aren’t you pleased?’

  ‘I’m still stunned. I can’t believe it, or that it will be all right. But Gloria and Em both predicted it, and that the baby will be fine.’

  ‘Darling, of course it will be all right!’

  ‘It’s not only that I’m afraid of losing it like the others, whatever Em and Gloria tell me; but I’m past forty, which is old for a first baby. And there’s a higher risk of something being wrong with it.’

  ‘There’s more chance of everything being right with it.’ He looked searchingly down at me. ‘My secretive little Undine! So, how long have you known?’

  ‘Only a few days,’ I assured him hastily. ‘Gloria knew first, and she bought me a pregnancy test. I still don’t feel any different than usual, which is partly why I didn’t want to tell you yet. Only, Em and Gloria both seemed to think I should tell you tonight for some reason.’

  ‘Not tell me? Of course you should bloody tell me! I’m the father, aren’t I?’ he demanded hotly, his arms tightening around me.

  ‘Of course, but you had to marry Kathleen, and I didn’t want you to think I was trying to force your hand.’

  ‘But Charlie, it’s the other way round this time – I want to marry you, and you won’t even stay overnight at the cottage with me!’

  ‘Because of Caitlin. It wouldn’t be fair to her to suddenly appear in your bed one morning – and then disappear when you got tired of me.’

  ‘Which would be never – so she’s going to have to get used to it. In fact, when we are married she’s going to think it pretty odd if we don’t live together.’

  ‘I don’t know what to do any more,’ I said helplessly, putting down my handful of hot, sticky sugar mice.

  ‘Just as well I do, then. Let me tell you my news: I’ve bought the Parsonage from your father, lock, stock, barrel and Rhymers. I’m moving in, and the only people moving out are Ran, Jessica, and the twins – and then only as far as my cottage. We’ve done a sort of house-swap.’

  My knees buckled slightly and he held me up, close against him, which made it even harder to concentrate on what he’d just said. ‘You and Father have been plotting this behind our backs? How could he do this to me? The devious old sod!’

  ‘Tut, tut,’ Mace said. ‘Is that any way for a dutiful daughter to speak about her father?’

  ‘He isn’t strictly speaking my father; and how can you expect the rest of us just to fall in line with your arrangements?’

  ‘Why not? Isn’t it the perfect plan? The Parsonage continues being everyone’s home just like before, except I thought Em and Chris might like a private suite in the attics, so they can be on their own when they want to be.’

  I pushed him away as much as I could (which wasn’t very far) so I could look up at him. ‘Is this just a negotiating move? You can’t possibly want to take on the whole clan!’

  ‘It’s more of a coup. Think of the advantages, Charlie – we can turn the Summer Cottage into the Skint Old Woman offices and Chris can run it, full time. Em continues her reign over the household, but they’ll have their own private spaces too. You can write for the magazine, paint in your verandah, and generally continue leading your odd Charlie Rhymer existence, and Anne and Bran can come and go as they please. The twins will be near, which Caitlin will like, and even Ran can use the house as a bolt hole if Jessica gets too much for him. What do you say?’

  Not a lot – the ground seemed to have been efficiently and ruthlessly cut from beneath my feet, and if I didn’t grab Mace I was going to fall an awfully long way …

  ‘What about Gloria and Walter?’ I said weakly.

  ‘I included them in with the family – they will stay here, won’t they, if you all do?’

  ‘But Mace…’

  ‘I do have one condition, though: you have to come with me to London sometimes, because then I’ll have you all to myself. I have a fantasy about you and me in the conservatory … all that lush, tropical greenery … the hot, steamy air…’

  The air seemed to be getting a bit hot and steamy now. But it’s interesting that it’s not just me who fantasises about dragging people behind bushes.

  ‘So what do you say, darling?’

  ‘I think I’ve been overwhelmed by superior fighting forces.’

  He was just overwhelming me again when the verandah door burst open letting in a cold blast of air and several people.

  ‘Cheats!’ Anne said. ‘We had to run round in the cold and get the key out of the frog!’

  She unbolted and threw open the door to the stairs, and the girls rushed down followed by the two dogs.

  There was a crush of bodies in the little room, and then it emptied just as suddenly again – including, I noticed, the mice I’d put down on the table.

  ‘Oh dear. I’m going to get the booby prize for Least Mice,’ I said ruefully.

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I get to wear the reindeer headband and fluffy tail all through dinner. But I can take the flashing nose off to actually eat.’

  ‘I can hardly wait,’ he said.

  Party Games: Snapdragon

  Snapdragon is an old English custom that well deserves reviving, since it is highly dangerous but still legal. It makes an exciting finish to a Christmas meal, the adrenaline rush aiding digestion.

  Involving the same technique as igniting the Christmas pudding (and there is something so deeply symbolic about setting light to the finale of a meal the woman of the house has spent the entire day producing) you simply pile a great heap of
raisins onto a fireproof dish, pour alcohol such as brandy over the top, and set light to it.

  Everyone then tries to snatch a raisin without burning their fingers or setting fire to themselves.

  Tip: have a lid large enough to cover the whole plate, a fire extinguisher, and a fire blanket to hand, for those unforeseen moments.

  Father won the Mouse Hunt, which put him in an excellent mood for dinner, though everyone except me was laden with sugar mice anyway.

  Mace said I looked cute in the reindeer headband, but I noticed his lips kept twitching whenever he looked at me. Personally, I was still in a state of numbed shock from his deviousness (and Father’s) and so was everyone else when we got to the sherry trifle and Father told them all about his and Mace’s plans.

  I’ve never known a family gathering be so silent for so long. Then Em and Anne turned as one and looked at me.

  ‘I know – Mace just told me downstairs.’

  ‘Bloody good tactics, Mace!’ congratulated Anne. ‘Surrounded and out-manoeuvred, Chaz.’

  ‘Mahomet came to the effing mountain – nice one,’ agreed Em. She looked thoughtfully at Mace. ‘That seems … very satisfactory.’ Then she turned and gave Chris a poke in the ribs with her elbow, and he choked on his wine. ‘But don’t you ever hold out on me again, Chris, or I’ll be wearing your guts for garters. Right?’

  ‘Right,’ he agreed, his eyes watering. ‘But I was sworn to secrecy, because Mace wanted to sort it out and then tell Charlie first. It seemed to me the perfect solution all round.’

  ‘I’m to live in Mace’s cottage?’ Jessica said slowly, as she caught up with the plot.

  ‘You said you wanted somewhere small with all mod. cons.’ Ran pointed out. ‘Well, the cottage has it all – and a study for me. But I’m warning you, Jess, if you don’t let Em teach you how to cook, the wedding’s off!’

  ‘Cook? I can cook!’

  ‘You can wash a lettuce leaf – but I’m not a bloody bunny! You learn to cook, I’ll set the date for the wedding.’

  ‘If it means getting her out of the house, I’m game,’ Em said grimly.

  ‘No, don’t, Mummy! We want to stay here too,’ wailed Febe. ‘We don’t want to go and live in a cottage, it isn’t fair!’

  ‘No,’ agreed Clo. ‘Em doesn’t mean it. She’s only joking, aren’t you, Em? Please say we can stay here!’

  ‘No, you can’t,’ Jessica said rather snappily. ‘You are my little girls, and you will live with me and Ran.’

  ‘The cottage is lovely,’ I told them. ‘There are little bedrooms tucked into the roof, and you can come and stay here in the Parsonage whenever you want to.’

  ‘Yes – keep your attic rooms here – share you out,’ agreed Anne. ‘Come and go as you please.’

  Caitlin, who had been nodding off into her trifle, her lap full of mice, said: ‘Daddy? Where am I going to be?’

  ‘Here, of course, with me and Charlie, and everyone.’

  ‘Oh good! So you are going to marry Charlie? And I can be a bridesmaid again?’

  I said ‘No!’ just as Mace said, ‘Yes.’ We looked at each other.

  ‘You better had, Charlie,’ Ran said, ‘after all this swapping over and stuff. The man’s gone to a lot of trouble for you.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Haven’t you told Mace your news yet?’ demanded Em.

  ‘Can we get down now?’ interrupted Clo. ‘We’re all full, and we think there are some mice we haven’t found.’

  The children vanished, while everyone looked at me like I was about to produce a rabbit out of a hat.

  This was not an announcement I ever expected to make – and especially not while dressed as a reindeer.

  ‘I’m – well, Mace and I are—’

  ‘Charlie’s having my baby,’ Mace announced proudly, like I’d just accepted a particularly lavish gift. (Which I suppose, in a way, I have.)

  Even Bran was staring at me, the string tail of a sugar mouse dangling from his lips.

  ‘Em and Gloria don’t think I’ll lose it this time.’

  ‘You certainly won’t, my chicken!’ Gloria said from the end of the table,

  ‘Freya said she saw you with a baby ages ago, in the crystal, but she didn’t like to say anything,’ Em added.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Anne. ‘And you said Lilith predicted happy outcomes to old issues in the cards, didn’t you? She’s certainly having an issue!’

  ‘Did anyone happen to see me with Charlie and the baby?’ enquired Mace with suspicious meekness. ‘Or don’t I come into it?’

  ‘You already came into it – nothing but trouble, you are!’ Gloria said. ‘It said so in the leaves all along.’

  ‘It must have said something else, too. Like: “they lived happily ever after”?’

  ‘Yes – bound to have,’ enthused Anne. ‘Jane Austen said a large income was the best recipe for happiness she ever heard of, and Mace is bloody rich! So didn’t it mention that in the leaves, Gloria?’

  She sniffed. ‘It might have: but I didn’t want my Charlie taken away from Upvale again, with her child that should be born here.’

  ‘I’m not going to take her away, or not for more than a couple of weeks at a time, anyway. You know she can’t stay away for long – she wouldn’t be happy: I understand that.’

  Gloria sniffed, and gave him a dour look; but she is starting to like him, I can see.

  ‘In fact,’ Mace went on, ‘the only trouble I seem to have caused is through you trying to avoid the trouble you think I might cause.’

  We all looked at him: and actually, when you think about it, he is quite right.

  ‘Isn’t it all in the interpretation of what you see? I hope Charlie was troubled by me – she certainly drove me mad. And I went to a lot of trouble to win her. Isn’t that trouble enough, Gloria? Aren’t there any “happy ever afters” in there?’

  ‘There might have been,’ she conceded reluctantly, then got up. ‘You’d better have a nice cup of tea. And Charlie.’

  ‘I’ve suddenly gone off it,’ I told her firmly.

  ‘Champagne!’ announced Ran. ‘Walter, fetch it in, there’s a good man. And we haven’t had the fortune cookies or Snapdragon yet!’

  Mace and Chris exchanged a startled look across the table: ‘You don’t think we’ve had enough excitement for one day?’ suggested Chris tentatively.

  ‘It’s Christmas Eve,’ Father said, as if that were an answer. ‘We always have fortune cookies and Snapdragon. The champagne was for toasting the house exchange, but we can toast the baby too.’

  ‘Time for Snapdragon?’ asked Bran hopefully.

  ‘Bran, take that string out of your mouth before you swallow it,’ Em said. ‘And save the rest of the mice for tomorrow, or you’ll be sick, like last year.’

  ‘Have you Rhymers ever thought of doing things the same way as everyone else?’ Chris asked despairingly.

  ‘No, what would be the fun in that?’ Em said, astonished. ‘This is our way – and yours, now, too. After all,’ she added, ‘you and Mace and Father have worked out what you want, and now you’ll just have to go along with the family way of doing things.’

  My fortune cookie said that my chi was flowing in a creative direction, but it’s a bit late with the message, because it’s already done that.

  When the lights went out and the raisins in brandy were lit, I missed my turn, because Mace took the opportunity of pulling me to the back of the room and kissing me until I was breathless. But then, I’d been burnt already.

  * * *

  We found Caitlin asleep on the bottom step of the stairs, and Em went to find a soft blanket so that Mace could carry her home without waking her.

  ‘So what happens on Christmas Day?’ he asked me, looking slightly apprehensive.

  ‘We get up, have breakfast, and open our presents. Then you and Caitlin come up and we play Hunt the Thimble for an hour or so, to work up an appetite for Christmas dinner, which is at about two. And we have the w
orks, with a flaming pudding afterwards, and home-made crackers. Then we take the dogs out for a walk, and come home, and play some quiet games. Then it’s a sort of tea-cum-supper, and by then we’re all usually exhausted and go to bed early. Only Gloria and Walter go home after Christmas dinner and have another Christmas dinner in their house and watch TV.’

  ‘It might take me a year to recover from all that – and you shouldn’t get too tired either.’

  ‘Tired? I’m not tired in the least!’ I said indignantly.

  He smiled, and hoisted Caitlin into his arms. ‘I am and I’ve still got a Christmas stocking to stuff.’

  ‘At least she’s asleep,’ I consoled him. ‘I’ll let you out downstairs.’

  I kissed her flushed cheek, tucking the soft blanket around her.

  ‘Goodnight, you devious actor you,’ I said, giving him a kiss over Caitlin’s head.

  ‘I’ll tell you something, darling,’ whispered Mace confidentially on the doorstep. ‘I prefer you as a reindeer!’

  And he strode off, laughing, into the night.

  I’d forgotten I was still wearing the headband and fluffy tail.

  * * *

  After he’d gone I went and looked Undine up in the dictionary, and apparently I am a water spirit that has obtained a human soul by bearing a child to a human husband. (Either that, or I have a preoccupation with running water, especially urine – but I think not.)

  * * *

  Next morning Caitlin ran past me into the house squealing with excitement and trailing a pillowcase full of presents behind her: not that there weren’t a sackful more waiting for her.

  She thundered off up the stairs to the Parsonage, while I closed the verandah door before letting Invasion of the Infidels sweep me into his arms.

  ‘Mace, if I marry you, you must promise me one thing,’ I told him seriously.

  ‘Anything,’ he agreed, with one of those devastating smiles.

  ‘Then just don’t turn into an alien, like my first husband did.’

  ‘Did he do that? Must have been a defence mechanism.’

  ‘What do you mean? Are you insinuating that I—’