by Jules Wake
‘Was that a deliberate pun?’ I asked with a groan.
‘No, but it can be if you like.’
‘Hmm. I’ll give Mike a call. He’s a mate of my cousin Bella. He does the annual service for me.’
‘Shall I make a cup of tea while you call him?’
‘I don’t think we want to hang around in here too long, do you? It’s almost as cold inside as outside. God knows how long the heating’s been off.’ I hoped my pipes wouldn’t freeze.
Mike picked up straight away and talked me through various diagnostics and possible solutions, none of which tempted the pilot light back into life.
‘Think your …’ I didn’t quite catch the word ‘… has gone. It’ll take me a couple of days to get the spare part. Monday.’
‘Monday?’ I echoed in horror. ‘You can’t get here any earlier?’ I clutched my viola to me. I needed to practise.
‘No, like I said, it needs a part. Today’s Friday. With next day delivery that’s Monday. They don’t do weekends. And I’ve got emergencies stacked up. Old folks living on their own. Can’t you go stay with your folks for a couple of days or Bella’s? Sorry, this weather has been a killer, I’m completely chocka. At least you’ve got somewhere to go. I’ll get to you on Monday … if I can but I can’t promise. I’ll text you Monday morning. But it might not be until Tuesday.’
‘OK, if it could be Monday, I’d be so grateful.’
‘You and the rest of west London, love.’
‘Thanks, Mike.’
‘Cheers.’
I switched off my phone.
‘Not good news?’
‘Nope. He reckons it needs a spare part which he can’t get until Monday at the earliest and then he might not be able to get here until Tuesday.’
Nate lifted his shoulders. ‘You’re more than welcome to stay with us.’
‘It’s all right, I can go and stay at Mum’s,’ I said, even though the thought was already making my throat constrict. It would be fine. The neighbours were just going to have to put up with the noise. There was no way I could go another day without playing. I was probably being completely neurotic but I was sure I could already feel my fingers stiffening up.
With a raised eyebrow he studied my face. ‘Is that what you really want to do? Where will you practise? There’s plenty of room at ours. You can practise in a nice warm space. And if you’re really worried about outstaying your welcome, you can cook for your supper. Win-win all round.’
I looked towards the lounge, where I could see Grace rearranging my candles for me on the little side table.
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because …’
‘We’re two grown adults. And nothing’s going to happen while Grace is under the roof, I promise you that.’
‘I wasn’t worried about that … It just feels a bit … soon.’
‘Viola, it’s bloody freezing in this flat. It’s warm and cosy at mine. You’ll be doing us a favour. Besides, you were coming back this afternoon anyway. And we’re seeing you tomorrow, if you haven’t forgotten, we’re going Christmas tree shopping. That leaves Sunday, and you don’t have to spend the day with us then; you can treat the place like a hotel if you like.’
The awful thing was that I was really, really tempted. I could already picture myself and my viola in the little back study room beyond the dining room, with the light pouring in through the big bay window.
‘It’s a sensible solution,’ said Nate, his voice gentle. ‘Am I worse than your mother?’
I shot a guilty startled look at him.
‘Sorry, that was presumptuous of me, but I did notice she’s rather a dominant character. You were a lot quieter, less Viola, when you were around her.’
‘I could go to my cousin Bella’s.’
‘You can also be a glorified babysitter at mine.’
‘Bella’s all right,’ I protested, but it was hard fighting a battle that I didn’t really want to win.
‘Or you can come to ours, where you can do as you like … well, apart from making Yorkshire puddings for us. Come on.’ He stepped forward and lifted my chin with his hand, looking down into my eyes. ‘I’d like to look after you. You’ve done so much for us. What have you got to lose?’
Chapter 20
We were all glowing rather rosily when we arrived back at Nate’s house like a little band of Merry Men, with Nate carrying my holdall over his shoulder and a bulging Tesco bag in each hand, Grace marching along with my music stand and music portfolio bag and me carrying my viola case and another Tesco shopping bag.
Tesco had been bedlam, with empty shelves and people panic-buying as if we were about to be snowed in until after Christmas, but we’d managed to snag the all-important chicken, potatoes and a dozen eggs, so that dinner was assured as well as supplies to get us through the next few days. I have to say, Nate and Grace were dreadful shoppers. No wonder there was no decent food in the house.
It was just after two o’clock when we’d disrobed, hung all our wet things up in the utility room and put away all the shopping and I felt exhausted.
‘I could do with a nap,’ I said, sipping at a cup of tea, slumped at the breakfast bar. Nate was looking anxiously at his mobile phone.
‘Everything all right?’
‘Just work. There’s a conference call in half an hour that I really ought to dial into.’
I frowned, not understanding the problem.
‘I’m not expecting you to be my babysitter.’
‘Nate, what would you do if I wasn’t here? Grace would be perfectly happy watching Frozen for the ninety-nine millionth time.’ I nudged her. ‘Wouldn’t you, trouble?’
She beamed at me. ‘I’ve got a wobbly tooth. Look.’
I flinched as she waggled the tooth in my face. ‘Eeuw,’ I said as she laughed delightedly. ‘Why don’t you go and do your conference call and Madame Wobbly Tooth here and I will go up to the attic and check out the Christmas decoration situation? And then, when you’ve finished, if you could give me a couple of hours to practise that would be great.’
‘What about my sheet for my costume?’
I exchanged a glance with Nate and smiled. ‘I’ve had an idea about that. I’m calling in the cavalry.’
When Grace wrinkled her face in confusion, I added, ‘I’m going to get by with a little help from some friends.’
Last night while I was having my little meltdown, when Nate had suggested making lists and breaking the tasks down, I’d had my lightbulb moment and realised that I was overlooking an obvious source of help. I worked for the London Metropolitan Opera Company, for goodness’ sake, alongside world-renowned stage crew. I was friends with an extremely talented make-up artist who could face-paint donkeys, cows and sheep with one hand tied behind her back, a wardrobe lady who drove a sewing machine with the verve and speed of a Formula One racing driver and I knew any number of set and props people who could all pitch in to help. The parents of Notting Hill were in for a nativity they would never forget.
‘Let’s have a look and see what we’ve got,’ I said, pulling the first big fifty-litre box marked Xmas Decs – Blue & Silver, 2011,2015, 2018 towards me. There were two more boxes the same size, marked Red & Gold 2010, 2013, 2016 and Nordic, 2012, 2014, 2017. It seemed an awful lot of Christmas decorations. But then I guessed in this house you’d have a sizeable tree.
‘Where do you have the tree normally?’ I asked, opening the first box to find boxed sets of plain blue and silver glass balls in varying sizes, along with white strings of lights, dusted with what looked like ice crystals, and there were also lots of icicle-shaped decorations on silver strings. There was clearly a snow and ice theme going on here. I’d never had a themed tree in my life.
‘In the hall by the stairs. It’s a really big one,’ said Grace, reaching for a silver ball and holding it up to the light.
‘And do you have another one?’
Grace shook her head. ‘No, just that one. But ca
n I help when we get the tree?’
‘Of course you can! And we could put it somewhere else, like in the snug. Then you can see it all the time, because that’s where you spend the most time.’
‘Can we?’
‘Yes.’ I smiled at her sudden enthusiasm. I loved having my tree in the lounge and at night switching the main lights off and just having the tree lights on. It seemed to make the room so much more cosy and special. At Bella’s house the tree was always put up in the kitchen diner. To me it seemed a terrible waste to have a tree in the hall.
‘So what happens on Christmas morning?’ I asked, leaning back on my heels and studying the well organised box of decorations, loath to disturb them. If I was being cynical, the box felt like insta-tree, the sort of soulless decorated trees you see in department stores and restaurants that have been done by a team of decorators to ensure that everything co-ordinated with that year’s theme.
‘Father Christmas –’ her eyes brightened ‘– comes and he leaves a stocking on the end of my bed.’
‘And do you leave carrots and mince pies out for him?’
She shook her head, carefully nestling the silver ball back into its squeaky plastic packaging. ‘Mummy doesn’t want soot on the carpet.’
I snorted and Grace looked up in confusion. I couldn’t help it, I shouldn’t, but I had to laugh – it was hilarious. Making up imaginary reasons to avoid putting out food for an imaginary person.
‘S-sorry,’ I finally spluttered. ‘I’d just never thought of that before.’ I couldn’t wait to tell Bella; she’d think that was funny.
‘And what sort of things do you get in your stocking?’ I asked. Mum had been hopelessly practical when it came to stockings: bottle openers, playing cards, pencil sharpeners and on one memorable occasional a vegetable paring knife. I was thirteen at the time. Despite the sensible bent of all my gifts, I still remember the thrill of the lumpy stocking at the end of the bed.
‘Pink things,’ said Grace. Then she whispered, ‘I don’t really like pink.’
‘Oh.’ Nearly everything she wore out of school was in some shade of pink or cream or white. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’
‘Purple,’ she declared. Then, with a little frown, she added, ‘And red –’ followed by a pause ‘– and blue.’
There was plenty of scope there, suddenly I wanted to put together a stocking for her. Full of things she’d love: a couple of Beast Quest books, some purple ear muffs, a special Christmas tree decoration – Bella and I bought each other a new decoration every year – one of those Jelly Cat soft toys I’d seen some of the other little girls at school playing with, and that she’d had on her lap in the office that day, and perhaps some new wellies, the right size, although I wasn’t sure I could stretch to Joules. There were usually some fun ones on Portobello Market. In fact there was a whole world of stocking inspiration there.
‘Viola?’ Grace waved at me.
‘Sorry, I was busy thinking. So do you open your stocking with Mummy and Daddy?’ Eek, was that wise, reminding her that things would be different this year? But I knew from staying at Bella’s house – it had become a tradition because waking up there was far more fun than being on my own – that any chance of sleep after five on Christmas morning was a non-starter. Even at sixteen, Laura still climbed into bed with Mum and Dad and the two little ones to open her stocking.
Grace gave a little shrug. ‘I have to wait until after breakfast.’
I did a double take and then regretted it. Every family was different; it was naughty of me to judge. But after breakfast – even at thirty I’d have expired with excitement and frustration.
‘And what about the rest of the day – what do you do?’
Mummy gets ready and I watch a DVD. I always get a new DVD in my stocking. Do you think Father Christmas knows there’s a Frozen II?’
‘He probably does, but I’m not sure it will be out on DVD in time for this Christmas.’
‘Oh,’ Grace sighed.
‘But there must be other DVDs you’d like,’ I said, rather pleased at this turn of conversation. I could get the inside track as to what she’d like.
‘Hmm, Daddy and I saw Toy Story 4; I like Toy Story better. And have you ever seen Finding Nemo?’
‘Yes, lots of times. With Ella and Rosa, when I babysit.’
‘Can I meet them? Can they come and play one day?’
About to say a blithe yes, I suddenly paused, the question hitting me headlong in the chest, stirring up a flurry of second thoughts. It would so easy to say yes, of course, but a little thread of fear darted into my head. I was bowling along with all of this far too quickly and too easily. I’d only met Nate a couple of weeks ago and in truth I didn’t really know him.
I sat back on my heels, feeling a little cold as practicality and logic intruded. There was no denying the attraction I felt for him, but had I let that blindside me? Had it given me a false sense of knowing him? Introducing Mum had been fine; she took people as she found them. She’d liked Nate but she’d exhibited no further curiosity about him or Grace. God, if I brought Bella here or introduced her kids, there’d be a thousand questions and I’d have to start thinking about things and what other people might think. Nate had made it clear that, despite the attraction between us, he couldn’t and wouldn’t act upon it. I understood his reasons, even if my stupid emotions weren’t playing ball.
‘We’ll have to see,’ I said, hating that I’d resorted to that miserable catch-all phrase. ‘Do you have any cousins? Who else comes on Christmas Day?’
‘Granny and Granddad come; they have a dog, Coco. She’s cute but she sleeps a lot. I think she might be dead now.’
Her heartless deadpan tone made me laugh and ruffle her blonde curls.
‘Right, well. There are plenty of decorations up here for us to raid but there are too many to bring down.’ And I really didn’t want to mess up the system. I was guessing that the dates on the boxes referred to the years that the decorations had had an official outing. And, to be perfectly blunt, these were the most boring Christmas decorations I’d ever seen. I had a much better plan. After lunch I’d phone my mum. Rather bizarrely, for someone so practical and unsentimental, she never threw anything away and last year she’d invested in a smaller artificial tree with new simpler decorations, saying that as I no longer lived at home it wasn’t worth putting up a big tree, which meant all my childhood decorations were bound to be stored away in the storage cupboard in the basement of the apartment block.
‘All done. Thanks, Viola,’ said Nate, walking into the kitchen, where I was compiling the online shopping list along with my faithful assistant, who kept making very helpful suggestions as to what should go into the basket. I wasn’t sure what Nate would say about the Coco Pops or the pack of Fun Size Mars Bars that she assured me were regular purchases.
‘How was the conference call?’ I asked quickly.
‘Successful. I have a happy client and I think the other side are going to settle, which means no court case, no negative publicity and everyone can breathe easier.’
‘Well, the boss and I have done the shopping list, but you might want to add some bits and bobs –’ I paused and gave a quick sidelong glance to Grace and winked at her ‘– and check that certain things are approved items.’
Nate smiled. ‘I’ll do that.’
‘Are you OK if I go up and …?’ I nodded towards my viola case, which was open and lying in the dark corner of the dining area where the dining table used to reside. It was the cooler part of the room and I thought the safest place to gradually bring my viola back up to room temperature.
At his nod, I scurried forward to scoop up my baby.
‘You look happier already,’ teased Nate.
I shrugged, a little embarrassed, but it had been nearly two whole days now.
‘Go,’ he said, nodding towards the door, handing me my folding music stand and music.
‘Thank you.’
As soon as I sett
led my chin into the chinrest and my fingers found their place on the fingerboard, I sighed and lifted my bow, making a few experimental notes and lapsing into an easy familiar piece from La bohème; it’s a crowd-pleaser and always brings in bums on seats, so we perform it at least once a year. I played for myself for a few minutes, enjoying the lightness of the room amplified by the brilliance of the snow outside. From here I could see the communal garden and our solitary snowman, the black hat not so jaunty now that further snowfall had dimpled its brim and collapsed its crown.
After that I settled down to serious work, playing and replaying a tricky section of a new opera that I was due to perform in January. Although rehearsals didn’t start until then, there wouldn’t be many, three or four with the full orchestra, two Sitzprobe rehearsals with the singers and after that a few full stage rehearsals, so I needed to make sure I’d nailed the music well before we went into official rehearsal sessions. For something like Nutcracker or La bohème, I’d played them so often the music came easily, my fingers almost remembering the notes by themselves, but for this piece I needed to work hard so that by the time we got into rehearsal my playing would fit seamlessly with the rest of the strings.
When I finished, with a slight ache in my shoulder, I packed everything away, the sense of calm and all was right with the world enveloping me like a blanket. I was always like this if I went more than a day without putting in some practise hours. Now I felt so much better, the earlier panicky feelings of last night vanquished.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket where it had been on silent and pulled faces at it, almost as if it was a little ticking time bomb in my hand. There were a slew of texts from Bella, which I’d been ignoring all morning. I was trying to justify to myself that I’d been busy rather than cowardly.
Snow day today. Do you want to come over? Ella and Rosa are desperate to build a snowman. And we’re getting the tree tomorrow. Are you working? Or can you come? What time shall we go? Probably best if you come over in the morning first thing, then we can get it delivered and you can help the kids decorate it early evening if you have to go to work. I’ve got a ton of stuff to do so that will be perfect. Bx