Make a Christmas Wish

by Julia Williams

  ‘She’s bound to be curious,’ Dad said.

  ‘But what if she hates me?’

  ‘How can she hate you?’ That was her dad all over: always good at knocking down his daughter’s insecurities. ‘She’ll probably be pleased that Adam’s found a lovely girlfriend. Try to concentrate on the fact it’s Adam you want to be with, not Felicity. Don’t worry too much about it.’

  But Emily couldn’t be soothed.

  ‘What if I hate her? I mean Livvy sounds like a total nightmare, and she must have got that from somewhere,’ Emily said.

  ‘And the sky might fall in,’ said Dad. ‘You worry too much. Now come on, let’s get going or we’ll be late, and you do want to make a good impression, don’t you?’

  ‘Thanks for coming, Dad, I appreciate it,’ said Emily, as she took his arm and they walked down her street. ‘And I hope you don’t mind we’re not coming to you on Christmas Day.’

  ‘Mind, of course I don’t mind,’ said Dad. ‘You know me, I like to have fun at Christmas. If you’re there I’d have to be fussing about looking after you.’

  Dad still hadn’t quite worked out which worthy village lady was going to host him this Christmas, but ‘I’ve had three offers,’ he had said with a twinkle. Emily had laughed, ‘And I’m guessing they don’t know about each other? I’ve a good mind to ring them up.’

  ‘Don’t you dare, young lady. I never interfere with your love life.’

  This was perfectly true. After Graham he hadn’t asked questions, and just offered support. And last Christmas, in between being hand-fed strawberries at inappropriate times by the then squeeze, he’d offered sympathetic and helpful advice about how Emily should cope with the situation she’d found herself in. Still, grateful as she was to him, Emily was relieved not to have to be playing third wheel to her dad this Christmas. It was going to be much better all round seeing him on her own territory.

  Dad was clearly not all that desperate to spend time with his daughter either. The action in Little Bisset was likely to be much more interesting than anything he’d find visiting her. If she could only get over the hurdle of meeting Felicity for the first time with no major hiccups, Emily might even start to get excited about her first Christmas with Adam, despite her nerves.

  Emily had already warned Adam to tell Felicity that her dad was a notorious flirt, but he’d assured her Felicity hadn’t so much as looked at a man since her husband died. Maybe she would turn out to be that rare thing; a woman who didn’t succumb to her dad’s charms.

  ‘How are you feeling, Pumpkin?’ Dad said as they walked arm in arm down the high street.

  Emily squeezed his arm with gratitude. Despite his frequent emotional dalliances, Dad could often show surprising empathy.

  ‘Quite frankly I’m terrified. I understand why Felicity wants to check out the woman who’s replacing her daughter, and I suppose I have to do this sometime. But bloody hell, I wish it were over.’

  ‘Don’t worry so much,’ Dad said again. ‘If it all gets too tricky I can always turn my charm on her.’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ laughed Emily, but she did feel a bit better.

  Adam had told her she was fretting too much as well, but Emily couldn’t quite believe him. However he clearly loved Felicity, and she’d been very good to Adam and Joe. In the first awful months after Livvy died, Emily, of course, stayed away, wanting to keep a low profile. Felicity had been a great support for Adam and Joe, even though she knew that things hadn’t been good between him and her daughter.

  ‘I’ll never forget that,’ he’d told Emily. ‘She was like a rock and she’ll always be part of my family.’

  From that moment Emily had resolved to do her best to like Felicity too.

  Emily’s nerves hadn’t calmed down by the time they arrived with her bottle of Pinot Noir, and port provided by Dad. She felt as if she were about to attend the worst kind of job interview.

  It was another windy evening, though thankfully not raining. A mangy black cat ran across their path as they got up to the front door.

  Since she’d talked to Joe, Emily was beginning to have weird fantasies about Livvy returning from beyond the grave, to punish her. She wasn’t normally fanciful, but then again it wasn’t like her to imagine someone had pushed her so she spilled her wine, or tripped her over or dropped things on her toes. Her foot still felt dodgy.

  And even though Emily knew it was so utterly barking she couldn’t admit it to anyone – not even Adam – she kept feeling as if there was a malicious presence around her. It was probably only her anxiety about whether Joe and Felicity could ever accept her, and her guilt at the fact that the person standing in the way of her and Adam’s happiness wasn’t around any more. If it were her she’d sure as hell come back and haunt the other woman.

  Adam opened the door and gave Emily a cautious peck on the cheek, and shook Dad’s hand. He looked nervous too, and Emily could see someone hovering in the background.

  ‘This is Felicity,’ Adam introduced her to a smiling neat fair-haired woman in her late sixties. She was thin as a pin, and very elegant. She didn’t look very scary.

  ‘Emily, welcome,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’

  And she gave Emily a hug. The woman whose daughter she’d replaced; the woman whose daughter was dead. Emily, choked by her generosity, wasn’t sure she deserved it.

  ‘Adam, you never said your mother-in-law was so young and pretty,’ said Dad. Oh God, he was off. He had that smooth patter down to a fine art.

  ‘And Adam never told me that Emily’s father was such a charmer,’ said Felicity with asperity. But she blushed. ‘I’m Felicity, you must be Kenneth.’

  ‘At your service,’ Dad said, taking her hand and kissing it.

  ‘Please make him stop, someone,’ Emily laughed. ‘I don’t want to have to vomit into my dinner.’

  ‘Adam’s doing the cooking tonight, would you believe?’ Felicity said.

  ‘I’m not that incapable,’ protested Adam.

  ‘No of course you’re not, dear.’ Felicity patted him on the arm, and gave Emily a knowing look. ‘Which is why you and Joe survive on takeaways when I’m not around.’

  Emily suppressed a snort. That was exactly what Adam did when she wasn’t in the house. She liked the fact that Felicity had the measure of him. They exchanged conspiratorial glances.

  ‘You have to forgive us poor pathetic men,’ said Dad. ‘We all miss a woman’s fine cooking.’

  ‘I’m surprised you can keep a straight face,’ Emily retorted. ‘I swear you never cook for yourself, but there’s always some mug in the village who’ll bring you round some dinner.’

  Felicity raised an eyebrow. ‘You look quite well fed to me,’ she said, and Emily had to laugh. None of the adoring village women ever called Dad up on anything. Felicity might do him some good. In that moment, Emily knew that she liked Felicity. Maybe Christmas was going to be OK after all.

  Livvy

  I’m fuming, and stamp around the house knocking over Christmas cards and rattling the Christmas tree, for all the good it does me. Everyone’s getting on so famously they pay no attention. What is Mum playing at, being so welcoming to Emily and her dad, having shared jokes about Adam? That’s what she and I used to do. Am I so unimportant to her?

  She misses you, the thought pops into my head. It sounds like Malachi’s thought, not mine. Maybe. She’s doing a good job of pretending otherwise. She takes everyone into the lounge, and is pretty soon cosying up to Emily’s dad. He keeps complimenting her, and though she bats it back, she’s acting all coy. Since when has Mum started flirting with men? And if she’s got to choose one, she’d better bloody well not choose him!

  I’m determined they’re not going to get to the end of the evening without acknowledging my presence.

  First things first; I decide to make the sauce boil over. Adam’s actually quite a good cook, but he’s done an overcomplicated recipe involving lamb noisettes. Typical Adam, when he does cook, he
tends to do it in style. While he’s busy bringing in drinks, I turn the gas up on what’s supposed to be a slow-cooking redcurrant sauce. I’ve discovered over the last few days I can properly touch things now, so it’s pretty easy to get the sauce to start bubbling, and sticking to the bottom of the saucepan.

  ‘Shit!’ Adam runs into the kitchen just in time to see half his beloved sauce boiling over on the cooker.

  ‘Everything OK in there?’ Felicity calls.

  Adam has not very subtly left her, Emily and Kenneth to bond. Jeez. I might be dead, but I can still read my husband like a book.

  ‘Fine,’ calls Adam, though I can see him panicking. He rushes round trying to scrape congealed sauce off the top of the cooker and back into the pan. It’s quite comical watching him, and I am laughing until, woof! It hits me. A strong burst of emotion. Adam is really suffering. Suddenly I want to reach out and comfort him, tell him it will be all right.

  I can feel his panic and near despair. He stares at his reflection in the kitchen window and I get a strong sudden sense of his sadness and guilt. He’s not sure about what he’s doing. He misses me. There’s still love for me there. I can feel it. It makes me more determined. If only he could see or hear me, I know he’d realize he’s making a big mistake.

  Adam

  I stare out into the darkness, wondering if I’m doing the right thing. It matters so much to me that my mother-in-law and my girlfriend can get along. I’m glad that Kenneth is here to act as a buffer. Judging by the roars of laughter coming from Felicity, he at least is a huge success. I know Felicity is trying very hard to make this work for all of us, but I worry that it’s all so fragile still, it could go disastrously wrong.

  The thing is, though, even if Emily hadn’t come on the scene when Livvy died, would I be a mourning widower right now? My relationship with Livvy got so complicated, so rotten, I’m not sure there was anything left of the love we once shared. It makes me sad that we lost that. We were so young when we met, and she was so gorgeous and fun to begin with. We got married far too soon, after Livvy fell pregnant, and I wanted to do the right thing. Looking back, perhaps that was our first mistake. Because we lost that first baby, and then the next, and suddenly my bright vivid wife was full of a sadness and pain that I couldn’t take away from her. I think a lot of the joy went out of our relationship back then, only I couldn’t quite see it at the time. And after that the drinking started. Livvy had always enjoyed alcohol, but she began to drink in an unhealthy compulsive way, and I’d felt powerless to stop her.

  We were so happy though, when we finally had Joe; we moved into this house and Livvy even stopped drinking for a while. I really thought we’d turned a corner. We both had visions of filling it with Joe’s brothers and sisters. Of course, that never happened.

  Somehow over the years we lost each other, and that early heartache resurfaced and ate away at Livvy in the most destructive way. I tried to help, but she wouldn’t let me in. She was locked in a world of pain and I couldn’t help her. It killed me to see her like this, but in the end she rebuffed me so often, I found myself focusing on work, and spending as much time with Joe as I could to give her a break. In the end all we had in common was Joe. I’d still be sad about that now, and about the way Livvy died, without Emily, but would I feel any different today? I suspect not.

  The temperature drops suddenly, and I feel a whoosh of something – cold air? – go through me, and am overwhelmed with grief, for what we had and what we lost, and for what Joe doesn’t have any more. Livvy was a good mum to him. Left to me he’d never have come as far as he has. I admired her for that, even in the worst times. I’m not sure I’m up to being his champion the way she was, though I’m going to try my hardest. She got him his place at college, and had already started planning for him to live an independent life. ‘Oh Livvy,’ I whisper, ‘I’m not sure I can look after Joe well enough without you.’

  That sense of grief overtakes me again, almost like a physical pain. And what’s weird is, though I’m bent double over the sink, howling like an animal, but silently, I have the strangest feeling that this isn’t my pain. I pull myself up straight and stare at my reflection in the window.

  ‘You’re losing it,’ I say to myself, and then for a fleeting second I could swear I see Livvy standing behind me.

  ‘Get a grip, Adam, get a grip,’ I tell myself. This is ridiculous. Joe’s recent oddness is beginning to take its toll. There’s nothing wrong here. Just not enough sleep and being overwrought with everything that has happened. Still, I do wish desperately I could see Livvy again so I can ask for her forgiveness. That way Emily and I can face our future together with a fresh start.

  Chapter Eight

  Livvy

  I can feel Adam’s pain washing over me in waves. For a fleeting hopeful moment, I think he sees me, and then the connection is gone and he pulls himself together. Joe comes in to help lay the table and I watch them fondly as they potter about together. Adam’s patient with Joe, always prepared to give him space and time. It’s one of the many things I love about him. My two boys: how I miss them.

  Kenneth comes to join them, to ask for another beer, and the three of them start on a good-natured chat about the football. Joe seems to have decided Kenneth is all right, because he’s joining in. Sometimes when he meets new people he can appear totally standoffish, as he doesn’t engage straight away, but Kenneth has clearly passed muster.

  ‘Do you want to see my astronomy lab?’ Joe asks, a clear sign that Kenneth is accepted.

  ‘Maybe later, Joe,’ Adam says automatically. Joe often wants to do things straight away, when it’s not totally convenient, but Kenneth replies, ‘I’d be honoured to,’ and I wish I could hug him before remembering that he’s the enemy.

  I don’t linger long in the kitchen. I can’t risk Joe starting on about me being there again. So I go and see what Evil Emily and Mum are up to, and immediately wish I hadn’t.

  ‘So you and Adam,’ Mum’s saying. ‘Tell me about when you met.’

  Emily blushes. As well she might.

  ‘I hope this isn’t too difficult for you, Felicity,’ she says.

  ‘Difficult?’ Mum sighs. ‘Difficult is never seeing Livvy again despite the differences we had. Difficult is worrying about Joe. It’s not what I would have chosen, but it’s what’s happened. I don’t want to see Adam unhappy, which he has been for a long time,’ – that gives me a jolt, I hadn’t realized Mum was so perceptive, and I feel a moment of gratitude that she does seem to be missing me – ‘and I can see how happy you make him. To be quite honest, over the last few years with Livvy, I didn’t often see him with a smile on his face. You’ve brought that to him, Emily. Maybe it’s meant to be.’

  Huh! Happy with Emily and not with me? Mother, whose side are you on? My earlier feeling of gratitude evaporates into anger. I fan the fire in the lounge with fury. A log flares up and tumbles down into the grate, sparks flying everywhere.

  ‘Tsk, tsk.’ Mum gets up to sort it out.

  Traitor! I snarl at her, but she’s looking through me as usual. I had no idea it was so bloody hard to haunt people.

  ‘Anyway,’ Mum comes back and sits down next to Emily and pats her hand, ‘I’m pleased Adam has someone. And I think you’re good for Joe. Just be careful you know what you’re taking on.’

  ‘I think I know,’ says Emily.

  Do you? Do you, really? I think bitterly. You’ve no idea how hard it’s been. No one has. I put in all the groundwork and you reap the benefit of my labours. Once again, it doesn’t seem at all fair.

  Joe, Adam and Kenneth return from the kitchen bearing plates of steaming food, so I settle back in and wait. I want them to notice me. But I need to bide my time.

  Adam

  I’m relieved to see that Emily and Felicity are getting on like a house on fire when Joe, Kenneth and I come back in. They’re bonding over Benedict Cumberbatch (‘Such a sweet boy,’ says Felicity) and George Clooney (‘How lucky is Amal?’ sighs Emi
ly), till I cough to remind them we’re here.

  ‘Dad gets compared to George Clooney a lot, don’t you Dad?’ says Emily, with a sly grin.

  Kenneth has been widowed a few years now. Emily is always saying how lonely he is.

  ‘It has been known,’ Kenneth demurs, till Emily teases him with, ‘Or at least that’s what your fan club in the village tell me.’

  ‘Oh do they now?’ Felicity actually twinkles. I’ve never seen her twinkle. She looks a little pink, and hot under the collar. Good God, is she actually flirting with Kenneth?

  ‘It might have been mentioned,’ Kenneth says modestly, ‘but Felicity, has anyone told you you resemble a young Helen Mirren?’

  ‘Not this week,’ says Felicity. ‘You were doing quite well up until then.’

  Emily and I exchange glances. This is super-weird, but if it helps the evening go off without a hitch, then I for one am all for it.

  The first course passes without incident. If anyone notices my burnt sauce they’re far too polite to mention it. Kenneth is good company, regaling us with tales of the village women who pursue him constantly, as if it’s some kind of hardship.

  ‘Come on, Dad, you can’t have your cake and eat it,’ laughs Emily. ‘Either accept their very generous attention or be single again.’

  ‘You have no idea what it’s like to be so much in demand,’ says Kenneth mournfully.

  ‘Yes, well that’s quite enough of that,’ says Felicity with another twinkle. She seems to be enjoying putting him in his place and it’s very entertaining, so the atmosphere is quite jolly. I am feeling relaxed by the time Joe and I clear the plates away and bring in dessert.

  ‘Shop-bought, I’m afraid,’ I say. ‘But it’s triple chocolate pudding. Joe’s favourite.’

  ‘And yours,’ says Joe.

  ‘OK, and mine,’ I concede.

  ‘Just as well you do all that swimming,’ says Felicity. ‘Otherwise you’d both get really fat!’