A Family For Christmas

by Linda Finlay

  ‘I’m just pleased everything worked out,’ she smiled. ‘Grandfa Sam and Nan have made me really welcome. They’re a lovely couple, and so close, aren’t they?’

  ‘Just the way a marriage should be, I’ve always thought,’ he replied, staring at her intently.

  ‘Anyway, I’ve really enjoyed the hustle and bustle in the lead-up to Christmas,’ Eliza said quickly. ‘The customers are especially friendly at this time of year. It is satisfying helping them make their selections and decorating the boxes as they want. Mind you, Nan reckons Christmas Eve will be the busiest day yet, with husbands hurrying in to buy something at the last minute. It was the same at the perfumery. That’s the only thing I’ve missed, actually, making perfume.’

  ‘That’s quite a speech, Eliza. You are enjoying your job, though, aren’t you?’ James asked, stirring his drink thoughtfully.

  ‘Yes, I am. Why, don’t you enjoy yours?’ she asked. He shrugged then grinned. ‘Did I tell you I’ll be finishing my apprenticeship come the New Year?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Only about a thousand times, James Cary. I think I should be getting back now,’ she added, draining her mug. ‘Nan was looking tired and, pot luck or not, I’d like to help prepare luncheon. No doubt you’re hungry?’ she teased.

  He stared out of the window and frowned. ‘The weather’s closing in and, with Minty taking longer than ever to make the journey, I think I should be heading back. I need to speak with Father before I leave anyway, so I’m afraid my visit today is short,’ he said.

  Her heart plummeted. She’d really been looking forward to their time together and knew Grandfa Sam and Nan enjoyed sharing luncheon and listening to his tales about the tannery.

  ‘Never mind, Guv said that as I’ve been working late each evening I can finish at noon on Christmas Eve,’ James smiled. ‘I should be here by mid-afternoon and we’ll be able to spend the festivities together.’ He reached out and took her hand. As he stared into her eyes, her heart flipped and this time, she didn’t look away.

  All that week the weather worsened, with snow blowing in from the hills. By Christmas Eve the pavements were coated white and although there was a steady stream of customers anxious to make last-minute purchases, they didn’t dally. By noon all the boxes had been sold, and the window on Nan’s side of the shop was bare. Grandfa Sam, looking ashen, began to cough and Nan insisted he close the shop.

  ‘If it continues snowing like this, we’ll have a white-out and there’ll be no customers on the street anyway. Go and rest beside the fire, I’ll tidy up here and then be up to make you a brew. Good job I took a basket of baking down to Jim earlier,’ she muttered.

  At the mention of James’s father, Eliza ran over to the window and stared out. The sky was dark, with lowering cloud ominously threatening more snow, and everywhere was deserted.

  ‘I do hope James gets here soon,’ she cried.

  Nan looked at her with wise old eyes. ‘I rather fear he’ll be lucky to get here at all, Eliza. Those hills up from Musby are steep and get blocked by snowdrifts.’

  ‘But I’ve made him a cake,’ she muttered, then realized how stupid she sounded. ‘I hope he’s all right,’ she added, recognizing how much he had come to mean to her.

  ‘Don’t worry, he’s a sensible lad. He’ll only attempt the journey if he thinks he’s a fair chance of getting through. Come away upstairs and we’ll have a cup of tea. That’ll make you feel better,’ Nan said, covering the counter with a cloth.

  The family Christmas Eliza had so been looking forward to didn’t materialize. In fact, they didn’t celebrate at all. Grandfa Sam took to his bed, coughing and spluttering. While Nan fussed over him, doling out liberal doses of linctus and rubbing his chest with liniment, Eliza found herself staring out of the window, willing James to appear. Surely if he’d really wanted to see her he would have found some way to get here, the gremlin in her head demanded. The day that should have been filled with joy and celebration crawled past and it was with relief they tamped down the fire and went to bed.

  Although weak and still coughing, Grandfa Sam insisted on opening the shop the day after Boxing Day.

  ‘Someone might be ill,’ he said when Nan complained he should be resting. Nan raised her eyebrows but knew better than to argue.

  The morning dragged, with hardly a soul venturing out in the abysmal weather. Nan spent the time showing Eliza how to make up new stock for the shop. Then they replenished the depleted shelves, setting out dishes of scented soaps and salts where the boxes had been. At noon, with not a customer to be seen, Nan persuaded the spluttering Sam to take his luncheon break first.

  ‘I wonder if I should go and visit Jim. He might be running low on bread,’ Nan muttered.

  Eliza looked out at the snow-filled sky. ‘I’ll go, if you like,’ she offered, suddenly wanting to be outside.

  ‘I’m not sure, dear. This is a bad time of year for him, what with his wife going then.’

  ‘Oh, how terrible to die at Christmas,’ Eliza cried. ‘Had she been ill for long?’

  ‘Die? Ill? Why no, dear, I think you must have gotten the wrong end of things. His wife ran off with James’s uncle Wilf, that’s our younger son …’

  ‘Hush thy mouth, woman.’ Grandfa Sam’s icy voice sliced the air, cutting Nan’s explanation short as he hobbled back into the shop. ‘We have no other son.’

  33

  The atmosphere in the rooms above the apothecary’s was as frosty as the weather outside. The arguments between Grandfa Sam and Nan became increasingly bitter, reminding Eliza of life back home. She began to wonder if there was any point in ever getting married. Perhaps she’d stay single, like Fay, for the woman had always seemed happy with her own company. Yes, so happy she couldn’t wait to get rid of you, a voice inside her head reminded her. Even James hadn’t bothered to come to see her, she thought. Surely if he really cared he’d have found some way to brave the elements.

  Grandfa Sam’s cough showed no sign of improving, which didn’t help his temper, and unless a customer braved the snow, he spent most of his time sitting beside the fire in the parlour staring into the flames. Although they were alone in the little shop for most of the time, Nan didn’t say any more about James’s uncle and Eliza didn’t like to ask. It seemed to her that families meant trouble. She’d harden her heart from now on and concentrate on her work.

  It was the middle of January before the weather began to improve. Eliza was in the kitchen helping Nan to prepare their luncheon from the meagre supplies left.

  ‘I’ll be glad when the fishing fleet can go out again and the butcher can get his supplies from the abattoir. Then perhaps we can have something other than soup,’ Nan grumbled.

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ said a voice from the doorway.

  ‘James! You did give me a fright creeping up on me like that,’ Nan scolded, but she looked pleased to see him anyway.

  Despite her resolve, as soon as she saw his dear face, Eliza’s heart began thumping in her chest.

  ‘Well, what kind of greeting is that, when a man travels through snowdrifts and scales icebergs to bring his favourite ladies some decent meat?’ he laughed, placing a sack on the kitchen counter. ‘There, a brace of pheasant, no less, plucked and ready for the pot.’

  As Nan clapped her hands in delight and began inspecting his spoils, James turned to Eliza.

  ‘I’ve missed you something terrible these past few weeks. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I set out to see you, only to have to turn back,’ he declared, gazing at her with those cornflower eyes.

&
nbsp; Eliza cursed herself as she felt her cheeks flush. ‘Well, it has been cold,’ she conceded. He looked so crestfallen at her response she wished she’d held her tongue. Despite everything, she really had missed him more than she could ever have imagined.

  A rasping cough cut through the silence.

  ‘Is Grandfa unwell, Nan?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s been real poorly since before Christmas. Nothing I try will ease that coughing for more than an hour.’

  ‘Has he seen the quack?’

  Nan sighed. ‘You know your grandfa; he insists there’s nothing a doctor can give him he can’t make up himself in his dispensary.’

  ‘Thinks the apothecary can heal himself, eh? I’ll go and see him,’ James said, going through to the parlour without looking again at Eliza.

  ‘Poor James, I think he was expecting a bit more of a welcome than that, Eliza,’ Nan chided.

  Eliza sighed. ‘Well, he didn’t hurry himself, did he?’

  Nan stared at her in surprise. ‘We’ve just had the biggest freeze in history, Eliza,’ she reminded her.

  ‘Besides, it seems to me relationships just mean hurt,’ Eliza muttered.

  ‘Whatever do you mean?’ Nan frowned.

  ‘Father bullied Mother, James’s father got hurt, you and Grandfa Sam have been arguing so much I bet you wish you lived by yourself,’ she burst out.

  Nan stared at Eliza in amazement and the room was heavy with silence.

  ‘Oh, Eliza,’ she said sadly, ‘I know Grandfa Sam and I have exchanged some pretty harsh words but underneath it all we love each other dearly. I was that worried when he was ill and couldn’t bear to think of life without him.’

  ‘Oh,’ Eliza muttered, realizing at last that the woman’s short temper had probably been masking her anxiety.

  ‘To live without love must surely be a sad state of affairs.’ Nan gave her one of her knowing looks. ‘Now maybe I’ve misread the signs but you can’t tell me you haven’t missed James these past weeks.’

  ‘Yes, but …’

  ‘No buts. You can’t wrap yourself in cotton wool in case you get hurt. You’re worth more than that and so is James.’

  ‘I’ve been stupid, haven’t I?’ Eliza admitted.

  ‘Not stupid, just a bit confused, maybe. Now a man needs a bit of encouragement – that’s if the woman wants his attentions, of course,’ Nan said, winking at Eliza then turning back to the pot. ‘Relationships are a bit like a good meal: you take good ingredients, sprinkle them with seasoning to add interest, then stir regularly with love so that the flavours combine and develop harmoniously. Of course, you can have all the good constituents, but if they are thrown together any old how, left to get on with it, or ignored even, well, you can’t be surprised if they separate, can you?’

  Eliza stared at the woman as she took all this in, then nodded. ‘Yes, I can see what you’re saying.’

  ‘So that’s the end of your staying-by-yourself malarky?’ Nan asked, eyeing Eliza shrewdly.

  ‘Yes,’ she grinned.

  ‘Thank the Lord for that. Now go and make the boy tea, then let him see some of that love I know is bubbling away inside you. I’ll be in when I’ve given this meal some attention,’ she said, looking meaningfully at Eliza.

  James looked up warily as she entered the parlour, but she gave him her brightest smile.

  ‘Tea, anyone?’ she asked, going over to lift the kettle from the fire.

  ‘Not for me, girl,’ Grandfa Sam said. ‘Happen I’d like a bit of a nap.’ He turned away so she didn’t see the wink he gave James.

  ‘Perhaps we could go for a walk, if you wouldn’t be too cold?’ James asked lightly, but the irony wasn’t lost on her.

  ‘I’d love to. I’ll get my shawl. I’ve lined it with a piece of material left over from my cloak but it will be better if we can keep warm together.’

  Beaming at the significance of her words, James jumped to his feet.

  The wind was rising again as they hurried along by the harbour where the fishing boats had taken shelter once more. By tacit consent, they turned into Carla’s café where the proprietress greeted them effusively.

  ‘Ah, my bambini come in from the chill. I will get you my speciality chocolatina on the house, yes?’

  Settled at their favourite seats beside the fire, James grinned at Eliza across the table. ‘Better late than never,’ he said, handing her a small package. ‘It was meant to be for Christmas of course, but …’ He shrugged. Carefully she folded back the paper and drew out a small purse.

  ‘It’s beautiful, thank you,’ she whispered, stroking the soft leather.

  ‘Made it myself from an off-cut at the tannery. Cleared it with Guv, of course. Thought with you making all that profit at the shop you’d need something to put your wages in.’

  She smiled, wondering how she could ever have contemplated not seeing him again.

  ‘That’s thoughtful, but we’ll need more customers if we’re to break even this month. The weather’s kept most people indoors.’

  ‘I know. It’s been driving me mad not being able to visit you. It wasn’t the happy family Christmas we’d been planning, was it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Poor Grandfa’s been really poorly and then he and Nan had a terrible spat and …’ Her voice tailed off.

  ‘That doesn’t sound like them. What was it about?’

  ‘It was about your uncle, but I didn’t understand.’

  ‘They didn’t tell you?’

  ‘Not really. Grandfa told Nan to be quiet,’ she said, moderating the truth.

  ‘It’s a sorry tale. Grandfa and Nan had two sons: my father, James, known as Jim, and Wilfred. Father fell in love with my mother, Annie, they married and had me, but apparently she’d always had a thing for Wilf. Anyhow, they ended up running off together.’

  ‘And she left you behind?’ she asked, wide-eyed.

  ‘Father made her choose.’

  ‘Oh, James, that’s terrible.’

  ‘Well, I was too young to know much about it. Grandfa and Nan pitched in to help bring me up, but Father became bitter and turned in on himself. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good chap, just wary of women – apart from Nan, of course. You can see why my mother’s and uncle’s names are never mentioned, though.’

  Eliza nodded, suddenly understanding more about James as well.

  ‘That’s why you are so close to your grandparents.’

  ‘Yes, they’ve been my steadying influence, I guess. And that’s why I value their opinion,’ he said, staring at her intently. ‘Vowed never to get involved with a woman, but Nan soon put me right on that score,’ he grinned ruefully, and Eliza couldn’t help silently sending up thanks for the shrewd woman’s advice. It would appear she’d been instrumental in sorting them both out. ‘Well, water under the bridge as they say, except …’ He paused and took a sip of his drink, then stared out of the window as if weighing up his next words.

  ‘Go on,’ she encouraged.

  ‘Well, lots of things really. I’m fond of you, Eliza, and would like us to spend more time together. I went spare as a spindle not being able to reach you over the holiday, and it made me realize that long-distance relationships aren’t a good idea. Obviously, you weren’t as bothered.’

  ‘I’m sorry for earlier. I was confused until Nan put me straight,’ she explained. ‘I really did miss you.’ She paused, deciding it would be futile to say any more but the words poured out nonetheless. ‘Why, I even made you a cake,’ she cried.

  His eyes
lit up. ‘You did?’

  ‘Yes, it was full of currants and spice. Nan helped me and …’

  ‘No, you clod,’ he interrupted. ‘Much as I love cake, I love you more.’ There was silence while he sat there looking as shocked as she felt. ‘I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but I was pleased to hear you say you’d missed me. When I arrived earlier, I thought perhaps you hadn’t.’

  ‘I’m sorry, James. I’m not very good at displaying my emotions. I guess …’ She was interrupted by Carla placing fresh drinks in front of them.

  ‘For my two love birds. You sit there staring into each other’s eyes and let your chocolatini go cold,’ she admonished.

  ‘Sorry, Carla,’ James said. ‘We haven’t seen each other since before Christmas and have so much to catch up on.’

  ‘Ah, well, I forgive you then and leave you to more lovey-doveys, yes?’ she laughed, clearing away their old mugs.

  ‘Perhaps you do show your emotions after all,’ James laughed. ‘Anyway, I’ve been thinking for some time now that I’d like to move back to Salting Regis. We could spend more time together, get to know each other better.’

  Eliza’s heart started thumping so loudly, she picked up her spoon and stirred her drink vigorously in case he should hear it.

  ‘But what about your job?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve finished my apprenticeship but my heart’s not in tanning hides. Truth to tell, I only left here at Father’s insistence. He thought I should spread my wings and get a qualification. Grandfa Sam thought it best, too, but I have found out I prefer making shoes and boots for local people, rather than saddles and stirrup butts for the farming community. Not that there’s anything wrong with them, of course; I just like the more personal touch and besides …’ He shook his head. ‘That’s quite enough of me. You must be bored rigid. Tell me, have you made any perfume recently? Grandfa said he offered you the use of his equipment.’