The Country Village Christmas Show

by Cathy Lake

  What on earth had happened to Kyle? What could the VERY worst thing be? Her heart raced as she ran to him, her maternal instincts screaming at her to be at his side already.

  The kitchen door was open and she wondered where Goliath was and why he hadn’t rushed to greet their visitor, but as she passed the lounge, she heard him snoring. Elaine must have left him there overnight so he could sleep by the fire. Perhaps he sensed that Kyle didn’t have any post with him, so it wasn’t worth rushing into the hallway.

  Clare opened the front door, then flung her arms wide and her son dashed into her embrace.

  ‘Mum! Oh, Mum!’

  She held him tight while he cried, his tears trickling down her neck and onto her dressing gown as she stroked his hair. Kyle was a good bit taller than she was, but she could reach his head as he was bending forwards to hug her.

  ‘Why don’t you come in, darling, and let me make you a drink?’ she asked and felt him nod against her shoulder. ‘It’s very cold and you must be in need of something warm.’

  ‘M-my things are in my c-car.’

  Things? Had he come to stay?

  ‘Where is your car?’

  ‘Out on the road.’

  ‘It’ll be fine as long as it’s locked. It’s very quiet around here. We can get them later.’

  ‘O-OK.’ He sniffed, trying to be brave, reminding her of the little boy he had once been. Love for him welled in her chest, overwhelming, all-encompassing. Even though he was officially, legally, an adult, she would do anything for her baby.

  She closed the door and led him into the lounge, her heart skipping with his every sniff.

  ‘You sit down while I build up the fire then I’ll make some tea.’

  He nodded and slumped onto the sofa, kicked off his trainers and dragged the throw over himself. Clare turned to the fire and stepped over Goliath, who opened one eye and then closed it again. Once she’d thrown some logs on the fire and stirred the embers into flames, she set the fireguard in place and returned to Kyle’s side.

  ‘I’ll make some tea then we can talk. Are you hungry?’

  He shook his head, his lower lip trembling. ‘I c-couldn’t eat a thing.’

  ‘Not even a runny boiled egg with soldiers?’ She couldn’t help herself. When he’d been a little boy this meal had always been her way of tempting him to eat.

  ‘Oh . . . OK then.’ He nodded, his eyes downcast, his dark hair ruffled as if he’d been dragging his fingers through it all night. ‘But just two eggs and three pieces of toast with plenty of butter and a pinch of salt on the side.’

  ‘Of course.’ She squeezed Kyle’s shoulder, then went through to the kitchen, working quickly so she could get back to him and find out what had happened. She knew that a warm drink would help, and that food was a good idea if she wanted to get any sense out of him. Kyle with low blood sugar could be as incoherent as a toddler having a tantrum.

  When she’d put the food and two mugs of tea on a tray, she carried them through to the lounge and found Kyle on the sofa, his legs now tucked under him, Goliath next to him with his head on Kyle’s shoulder. It was the sweetest sight.

  ‘He remembers you, darling,’ she said, trying to work out how long it had been since Kyle last visited Little Bramble. She handed him the tray then took her own mug of tea from it and placed it on the side table before sitting on the sofa her mum usually occupied. It felt strange, like sitting in the head teacher’s chair.

  ‘I haven’t seen him in about two years,’ Kyle said, meeting her gaze. ‘That’s awful isn’t it, Mum? I haven’t seen Nanna in that long, apart from that day when she met me in Bath just before the summer.’

  ‘She met you in Bath?’

  ‘She was on one of those OAP trips, a coach thing, and because she was in Bath, she rang me and asked to meet for a cuppa.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’ Clare felt a bit hurt that she hadn’t known, but then why would she? They didn’t have to tell her everything. What was a positive here was that her mum had been out and about, even if it was a few months ago. ‘But look at how Goliath’s gazing at you.’

  Kyle turned his head slightly and laughed. ‘He’s a lovely dog. I think he knows I’m upset.’

  ‘Yes, love, and about that . . .’ She let the not-quite-a-question hang in the air, hoping that Kyle would feel ready to explain why he was so distressed.

  He sipped his tea, then dipped his soldiers into the eggs, exploding the runny yoke so it ran over the edge of the shells like lava from a volcano, as Clare tried to stay patient and drink her tea. Even when Kyle shared his breakfast with Goliath, she bit her tongue and took deep breaths. Kyle could never be rushed into anything and she knew well enough that he needed to eat before talking. When he finally wiped his mouth and hands on the piece of kitchen roll she’d put on the tray, then drained his tea, she almost cheered.

  ‘OK, Mum, firstly I’m sorry for turning up unannounced like this and for dragging you out of bed.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, Kyle, and you are always welcome wherever I am. I know this is Nanna’s home but for now it’s mine too. Besides which, Nanna will be delighted to see you. So . . .’ She put her empty mug on the side table and waited.

  ‘You know how well Rick and I were getting on?’

  Clare nodded. Rick Brody was Kyle’s boyfriend of eleven months. He was the same age as Kyle and they’d met in Bath, where they were studying performing arts and working part-time as baristas. Rick was blond, blue-eyed, thin as a lath and, from what Clare could remember of him (she’d only met him a handful of times because he found parents tedious) very stylish. He shopped for vintage items in charity shops and loved combining colours, so whenever he entered a room, he was sure to be noticed, often like a scarlet macaw. She’d found him pleasant enough, in spite of his aversion to parents, and Kyle had been besotted with him, so she’d done her best to accept him as part of the family and to encourage Jason to do the same.

  ‘I thought you two were quite serious?’

  She ran her gaze over Kyle’s dark hair, his shadow of stubble that still hadn’t really spread from his upper lip or chin, leaving gaps whenever he had tried to grow a beard. His eyes were the same shade of green as hers but in the lounge, lit only by the fire and one lamp, they seemed much darker.

  ‘We were, at least until I caught him shagging that bloody area manager.’

  ‘Oh . . .’ She shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry, Kyle.’

  ‘That’s OK, Mum. It was weeks ago.’

  Weeks?

  ‘But you didn’t tell me?’

  He looked up. ‘Didn’t I? Gosh, Mum, I really thought I had.’

  ‘It’s OK as long as you’re OK. But you still seem upset. That’s understandable, love, a relationship breaking up is a big deal –’

  ‘No, no, Mum. See, after I caught them in the stockroom, I told him it was over. SO over!’ He shuddered. ‘No way was I putting up with cheating.’

  ‘OK, then, so why are you so sad?’

  He rubbed Goliath’s head and the dog grunted in appreciation.

  ‘See, I fell in love with Lydia.’

  ‘Lydia?’ Clare tried to keep the surprise from her tone and her face, but last thing she’d known, Kyle and Rick had been discussing their life together after university and now there was someone else. For both of them.

  ‘Oh, she’s gorgeous, Mum, and she fixed my broken heart after that bloody cheating Rick. In fact, Mum, you’d just love her. Well, you would have loved her. But the . . . the utter bitch has . . .’ His eyes filled with tears and he fanned his face with his free hand, the other one still caressing Goliath.

  ‘Has she cheated too?’

  He shook his head. ‘She said she thinks I’m too young.’

  ‘How old is Lydia?’

  ‘Twenty-six.’

  ‘And you two dated?’

  He nodded. ‘For a few weeks but now she doesn’t want me . . . but I LOVE her!’

  ‘
Her?’ Elaine appeared in the doorway, her face scrunched up in confusion, her hair doing its best impression of an upturned brush. ‘I thought you were gay, Kyle.’

  ‘Nanna!’ He held out his arms and she hurried towards him. While they hugged, Clare picked up her mug and Kyle’s tray.

  ‘I’ll make some more tea while you explain to Nanna why you’re here.’

  Clare left the lounge, wanting to give herself a chance to think about what Kyle had said. She knew he was a gentle young man and that he wore his heart on his sleeve, but to fall in and out of love so easily? Well, it worried her. He really had seemed to be deeply in love with Rick and now there was a woman instead? Or there had been a woman but she had decided he was too young, after sleeping with him, it seemed. The phrase young people of today flashed through her mind and she shook it away. Was she really at that stage of life where she found the younger generation’s behaviour confusing? Not really, she realised, she was just confused by Kyle’s ability to transfer his affection from one person to another within such short spaces of time.

  The thought that it could be because he was from a broken home made her heart sink, but then her common sense remonstrated that Kyle had been an adult when her marriage had ended, so for most of his life he’d had parents who lived together. It was habit for her to blame herself, but in this case she suspected it had more to do with Kyle’s libido and choice of partners than anything she or Jason had done.

  When she’d made three mugs of tea, she went back through to the lounge. Kyle was flanked now by Goliath and Elaine, the blanket covering the three of them, and it was a heart-warming sight. Her mum had never been this affectionate with her, but when it came to Kyle she was far more tactile. Perhaps it was a grandmother-grandson thing; or maybe it was because something had affected Elaine’s ability to love Clare in that way. Whatever it was, she was glad right now that her mum could love Kyle as she did. She popped another log on the fire then sat back and sipped her tea.

  ‘Tell me again, Kyle, why you were in love with a woman. I’ve always told people that my grandson is gay and I’m quite confused. Does that mean you’re a bisexual?’ Elaine tilted her head as she waited for an answer.

  Kyle sighed and pulled a face at Clare.

  ‘I’m not gay, Nanna, or even bisexual – I’m pansexual.’

  ‘Pansexual?’ Elaine asked, her lips pursing together. ‘That’s a new one for me.’

  ‘I thought I was gay initially, then I thought I must be bisexual, but then I realised it’s got nothing to do with gender at all. I just find myself attracted to the person.’

  ‘Right.’ Elaine was nodding and smiling, clearly pleased with learning something new.

  They sipped their tea in silence for a bit then Clare asked, ‘So is it definitely over between you and Lydia?’

  Kyle’s lower lip jutted out and he looked as if he was five years old again.

  ‘Yes. She said she needs a mature man, not a . . . a boy!’

  He started sobbing and Elaine pulled him into her arms, whispering platitudes and stroking his messy hair. Clare watched them, filled with admiration for her mum for being so understanding about this new revelation and for her son, a young man who loved openly, loved people for who they were without any form of prejudice, and who wasn’t afraid to love. To be able to make yourself vulnerable enough to care about someone was incredible and Clare doubted that she’d ever be able to do it again. She had committed herself to Jason, had worked hard over the years to stay true to him and their relationship and look what had happened. She couldn’t imagine feeling that way again, ever wanting to open herself up to the possibility of hurt. It was a big ask and she felt she was at the stage of her life now where it was too much, where the risk was too high. She hoped her son wouldn’t feel the same, that he would pick himself up, dust himself off and find love again.

  ‘Can I stay here for a while, Nanna?’ Kyle took the tissue Elaine offered him and blew his nose loudly. ‘I don’t want to go back to Bath.’

  ‘What?’ Clare jumped to her feet. ‘You can’t quit now, Kyle. You’re almost there.’

  ‘Mum, I have practically a full year left and I just can’t face it. I want to defer for a year.’

  ‘Oh, Kyle, but it’ll be harder to go back.’

  ‘Mum, I know what I want.’ He met her eyes and she saw in his, despite the tears, a steely determination that was all too familiar. Her son might be gentle, he might fall in love easily, he might be the sweetest man she’d ever met, but he was no pushover and when he made up his mind about something, that was how it was going to be.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, offering him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘You know best. Just please promise me that you’ll take a few days to think about it. Let the dust settle.’

  ‘That sounds like a good idea, Kyle,’ Elaine said, ‘Your mum’s right.’

  Clare swallowed her surprise. Her mum was backing her up?

  ‘I’ll think about it.’ Kyle nodded.

  ‘But you are welcome to stay for as long as you like,’ Elaine said. ‘We can make up one of the spare rooms for you, make it all comfy and cosy.’

  Kyle’s eyes lit up and Clare’s heart swelled. He wanted to be here with them and that was fine with her. Better than fine, actually. For a few days, weeks or possibly longer, she would have the chance to spend time with her mum and her son.

  ‘We could even have an old-fashioned family Christmas,’ she said, enthusiasm taking hold of her and sparking an unfamiliar feeling in her belly.

  Was that excitement? She hadn’t felt excited about anything in what felt like a very long time.

  ‘That would be lovely!’ Her mum grinned. ‘We can get a real tree and get Goliath one of those little hats and . . . Oh!’

  Clare smiled at Kyle as Elaine covered her face, clearly embarrassed that she’d actually become a bit emotional. It was as if Kyle’s arrival had brought something they had been missing and clearly, it seemed, needed.

  ‘That sounds wonderful, Nanna.’ Kyle clapped his hands. ‘I’m already excited.’

  Sinking back onto the sofa, Clare watched the flames in the hearth, sipped her tea and listened to her son and her mum as they chatted about what they’d like to eat for Christmas breakfast, then dinner, about their favourite brands of champagne, and about whether bread sauce was actually any good.

  A feeling washed over her, soothing the excitement and the worries about Kyle, gently reminding her that she was sleepy and that she could drift off if she just closed her eyes.

  It was, she realised, contentment. She was experiencing a moment of true contentment and really, really enjoying it.

  Chapter 12

  ‘What’ll you have?’ Jenny asked.

  ‘Um, I’m not sure really. What are you having?’ The aromas of beer and chips met Clare’s nose, along with something garlicky. The Red Squirrel offered basic pub meals and had a restaurant at the rear with a Michelin-starred chef.

  ‘A gin and tonic.’

  ‘I’ll have the same then, thanks.’ Clare nodded.

  ‘Why don’t you go and find us a table?’

  Clare looked around the bar of the village pub. It was Friday evening and quite busy, so there weren’t many spare seats, but she spotted a table for two in the corner near the fire. She weaved through the tables until she reached it, then she removed her coat and scarf, draped them over the back of the chair and sat down.

  When Jenny had sent her a text the day before asking if she fancied going for a drink, Clare had paused before replying. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Jenny again, but she felt a bit nervous about the thought of going out in public for a drink. It had been quite some time since she’d been to The Red and the last time she’d been there she’d been married with a young son. Her life and circumstances were very different now and something had fluttered in her belly as she’d got ready to come. It was a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Why, she wasn’t sure, because it wasn’t as if she an
d Jenny were going out ‘on the pull’ as they’d called it when they were younger. (Not that Jenny had ever been looking for herself because she’d been devoted to Martin even as a teenager.) But even so, she was a single woman now and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. There was a certain vulnerability to it that hadn’t been there before she married Jason, as if, now that she was single, she no longer had that security.

  When Jenny turned around at the bar, Clare waved at her. Jenny smiled, then made her way over. When she reached the table, she set down two glasses filled with clear liquid, ice and slices of lemon.

  ‘I figured you’d want ice and a slice. I also got something for us to nibble.’ She pulled two packets of crisps and a bag of roasted nuts from her bag.

  ‘Great, thanks.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I’m constantly starving at the moment.’ Jenny ran her hands through her hair. ‘I’m thinking that it could be the big M.’ She grimaced.

  ‘The big M?’ Clare frowned.

  ‘Yes, you know . . .’ Jenny lowered her voice ‘. . . the menopause.’

  ‘Oh!’ Clare laughed. ‘That bloody thing.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Does it increase your appetite then?’ Clare had been trying to forget about the fact that she had been experiencing some changes in her own body. Yes, there had been some weight gain, but she’d put that down to comfort eating. Anyway, walking Goliath was having a positive effect on her waistline and she hoped it would continue to do so.

  ‘It can do.’ Jenny raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, it can make you put on weight, anyway, and I’m certainly experiencing that.’ She opened her black waterfall cardigan to reveal a black T-shirt and skinny jeans.

  ‘Jenny, you’re like a stick.’ Clare shook her head.

  ‘Look at this.’ Jenny glanced around them, then raised the bottom of her T-shirt to reveal a small belly. ‘I’ve not had a pot like this since after the twins were born. It’s appeared all of a sudden and I am not amused. Martin thinks it’s really funny.’

  ‘Your belly is tiny and actually quite cute, Jenny. I wish mine was that small.’ Clare ran a hand self-consciously over her own stomach, feeling the curve beneath the high-waisted leggings she’d put on under her thigh-length grey wool tunic. With the grey knee-high boots she’d purchased in the January sales last year, she’d felt that she looked casual but smart enough for an evening at the local pub.