Notting Hill in the Snow

by Jules Wake

  I stared at the screen, irritated by what I realised was the usual subtext that she wanted me to entertain the children today and tomorrow.

  Did you get my text? When are you coming over? Ella and Rosa starting to climb the walls and worried the snow will melt before you get here! Fat chance. Bx

  Fun as it had been building a snowman with Grace, today I wanted to stay snug and warm and, by the looks of things, so did Bella.

  Are you coming? Soup and bread for lunch? Actually could you grab one of those nice loaves from Gail’s on your way? Bx

  Then there were three missed calls, a minute apart from each other and one final text.

  Girls very disappointed.

  My mouth dropped open and I stared at the screen, a white-hot flash of heat rushing through me. Cheeky cow. I actually got as far as typing in WT with stabby fingers before I managed to rein in my fury and thought better of it. Breathe, Viola. Breathe.

  Part of me wanted to ignore the texts and just not reply but I also wanted to push back for a change and take a stand.

  Sorry

  … no, not sorry. I wasn’t even at the arse end of feeling vaguely sorry. Why was I apologising?

  Busy today and tomorrow. See you soon

  Then I added Vx because it did look a bit bald and then looked at it again. OK, that was probably a bit abrupt but she needed to know that I was feeling aggrieved. Oh, God, was I being as passive aggressive as she’d been? So I added, Hope the girls built their snowman.

  Maybe that was a bit snarky? I changed it to,

  Hope you’re all enjoying having fun in the snow. xxx

  That was a bit better. Resolved, I pushed the send button and, with unusual firmness, switched my phone off.

  In the meantime, I had a Yorkshire pudding batter to whip up.

  Chapter 21

  ‘This tree?’ asked Nate, holding another one straight.

  I shook my head. We were in the churchyard of the rather imposing St John’s Church, where each year Pines and Needles set up shop bringing trees down from the Highlands. All the helpers were in jolly Santa hats, bundled up in several layers against the cold and seemed imbued with festive spirit. Today, after almost constant snow the day before, the sun had burst out as if to say I’m back, you hadn’t forgotten me had you? The brilliant blue sky made a startling contrast against the thick layer of snow on the roofs as ice crystals twinkled in the sunshine. Lots of families were wandering around, with shiny-faced excited children dressed in thick gloves and bobble hats, darting about the paths between the piles of trees.

  ‘This one?’

  Again I shook my head and he pursed his lips but he hadn’t yet reached the completely pissed-off-with-my-tree-deliberations stage, or at least I didn’t think so.

  There’s an art to choosing a Christmas tree and, despite my parents’ academic priorities, it had been one of our family traditions, including a Dad and daughter expedition to seek out exactly the right specimen, followed, when I was older, by a trip to the pub for a half of London Pride for Dad and a glass of the normally forbidden Coca Cola for me.

  ‘After we’ve got the tree and before we go to get the decorations, would you like to go to the Churchill Arms? We can get a drink and something to eat. Do you know it?’ I asked with a sudden touch of nostalgia; maybe I should have asked Dad to join us.

  I was surprised to see incomprehension on Nate’s face. Surely he’d heard of the Churchill Arms. It was a Notting Hill landmark all year round, famed for its exuberant outdoor displays of flowers, but at Christmas it came into its own. Grace would get a kick out of a visit there.

  Nate shook his head. ‘I don’t. But I like the sound of a pint after a hard day’s Christmasing. I had no idea finding a tree was going to be so much work.’ He put his hands on his hips and shook his head with a mournful expression which made Grace burst into giggles.

  ‘Daddy, you’re silly. This is fun.’

  ‘Hmph,’ he said, tapping the bobble on the top of her hat.

  He singled out another tree. ‘How about this one?’

  ‘You’re rubbish. Look.’ It had a decided kink at the trunk a quarter of the way from the top, which I pointed out.

  ‘Nate, darling. I thought it was you.’ Like a hawk homing in on its prey, a woman swooped down, cutting in front of me – I’m not sure she’d even noticed me – grasping his arms and kissing him on both cheeks. ‘How are you? We never see you these days!’

  Oh, bums, I’d recognise that Cossack hat anywhere, even without the flowing blonde tresses cascading down her back.

  ‘Hello, Zoe, how are you? Hello, Cassie.’ Nate gave them both a good-natured smile. ‘Out hunting for a tree?’

  Angel-faced Cassie at her mum’s side was in her own little Cossack hat and the two of them looked rather glamorous.

  Zoe sighed. ‘Not our main tree. Obviously that one’s done professionally but Cassie and Hannah wanted one in their playroom and I thought why not. Hello, Grace, dear.

  ‘We really must organise a play date for Grace and Cassie; it’s been ages. And then you could stay for a glass of wine or something. It would be so super to catch up.

  ‘Aren’t you brave, tackling a tree on your own without a woman’s touch?’

  Nate beamed at me. ‘Viola’s in charge. I’m just doing the hunter gatherer bit and getting the tree. Decorating it is down to Viola and Grace.’

  Zoe turned sharply. ‘Oh …’ there was an affected pause ‘… it’s you.’

  Her attempt to convey a mixture of surprise and curious enquiry failed but she nailed the hell out of Queen Bitch.

  ‘The nativity girl. How lovely to see you.’ Her sickly-sweet smile said anything but. ‘I do hope it’s going to come together in time.’ Like heck she did.

  With a coy look and a winsome smile at Nate, she added, ‘You’ve set everyone quite a challenge on the costume front. I mean it’s all right for us. I was lucky enough to find the most wonderful angel costume on a website and it was only thirty pounds. Cassie adores it; it’s got the sweetest gold-trimmed wings. And we’ve found an adorable flashing wand that lights up with five different sequences. But I do feel for those poor children in the chorus and the animals. Just leggings and T-shirts. I think you’re making a bit of a mistake there; parents are coming to see their children in the nativity. They want to see them in proper costumes.’

  I nodded politely, which was quite a feat when I’d rather have scratched her eyes out.

  ‘As long as the children enjoy themselves,’ I said. ‘That’s the main thing.’ I smiled down at Cassie, who was actually a little poppet. I wasn’t sure, with a mother like this, how long that would last. ‘Are you enjoying the singing?’ I asked, giving Cassie a smile.

  ‘Yeth,’ she lisped. ‘I really like Away in a Manger and I like that we all sing together. I don’t like it when I have to sing on my own.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Cassie,’ snapped Zoe before turning to Nate, a malicious smile tipping at the edge of her mouth. ‘And how is Elaine? Have you heard from her? Poor thing, she must be missing Grace dreadfully. The sacrifices that woman has made for her career. But she’s doing it for the girls and I have to admire her.’

  God, this woman was so fake. If she were Pinocchio, her nose would be about three feet long by now.

  Nate gave her a tight smile. ‘Nice to see you, Zoe, but we need to get on. Important work to be done; Grace here is very particular about her Christmas tree.’ He winked at Grace, who beamed at him, her hands clasped together.

  ‘I think I can see one, Daddy.’ She grabbed his hand and began dragging him to a section of trees which were a little bit smaller than the ones we’d been looking at. I followed them more slowly, feeling Zoe’s narrowed eyes on my back.

  ‘That one, Daddy.’ Grace pointed, making Nate pull out a tree from the pile of trees against which it leaned.

  ‘That looks good.’ I grasped the needle-covered trunk and stood back to assess it. ‘What do you think, Grace?’

&nb
sp; She tilted her head and perused it with the grown-up concentration I’d become so familiar with. ‘I think it looks perfect.’

  Nate rolled his eyes and muttered something like, ‘Same as the others,’ under his breath. Grace gave him a dismissive look and mouthed, ‘Men,’ at me, which made me giggle and Nate roll his eyes again.

  ‘We’ve got ourselves a winner,’ I declared.

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Nate but, despite his words, there was a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Who knew choosing a Christmas tree was so complicated?’

  ‘You’ll thank me when you don’t have to do battle with it, and the stand, trying to make it look straight or having to keep turning it round because it looks like it’s leaning to the left or the right,’ I said. Thank goodness I’d checked that there was a decent Christmas tree stand in the house. Before I’d convinced Dad to invest in one, I’d experienced a few too many makeshift attempts at securing trees in pots and buckets, which had invariably ended in disaster.

  We took our contender to the big silver drums where a very jolly young Scot with big elf ears and the most gorgeous accent took charge and put the tree in the netting machine, tagged it with Nate’s address and promised delivery in a couple of hours.

  ‘Shall we look at the decorations?’ I suggested. There was a fine selection for sale at the wooden cabin on site. Grace was captivated by the small display. ‘And we could pop to Portobello Market to get some, before we go to the pub.’ I glanced at Nate. This was turning into quite an expedition.

  ‘Fine by me. It’s nice to be out in the fresh air, especially in the sunshine. And we don’t need to be anywhere until you go to work this evening.’

  ‘Can we have some like that?’ Grace asked, pointing to the gaudiest, fattest piece of silver tinsel.

  We bought a string of coloured lights, some wooden reindeer with glitter in their horns and a pack of purple baubles dusted with fake snow. There was also a display of very beautiful hand-painted glass baubles I fell in love with but at eight pounds a pop they were a little on the expensive side.

  As Nate went to the cash desk, Grace stayed by the display. ‘That one’s really pretty.’ She pointed to a pale golden bauble with tiny snow crystals etched into the surface and then to another very pale blue bauble with a tracery of curlicues.

  Leaving her there, I followed Nate to the cash desk and stopped beside him, saying quietly so that Grace couldn’t hear, ‘I’d like to buy a couple of the glass ones as a gift for Grace. As a memory of today. Buying the tree. The snow. The sunshine. Would that be all right?’

  He shrugged. ‘If you want to, but don’t feel you have to spend your money on her; you’ve already been extraordinarily generous with your time.’

  ‘One of my favourite things about Christmas is getting all the decorations out. When you unwrap them, special Christmas memories come flooding back.’

  A sudden smile lit his face. ‘You’re right. I’d forgotten. I remember as a child, it was a big deal. My sister always wanted to be the one to find a glass reindeer that my gran had given us one year.’

  While Grace was playing with the ends of the tinsel poking out of the paper bag, I surreptitiously paid for the two glass baubles and slipped them into my handbag, planning to give one to her later. The other I’d save for her stocking.

  And then, just when I thought we were home and dry, a familiar voice said, ‘Viola, fancy seeing you here.’

  Shit. It was flipping Bella with Ella, Rosa and Laura. The girls came running towards me, Ella throwing her arms around my leg, Rosa hanging back, letting her more dominant sister take charge while Laura gave me a shy grin.

  ‘Hi guys,’ I said, ducking to give Ella a kiss and holding out a hand to Rosa, who sidled up to me for a kiss. Laura hugged me. ‘Hey, Aunty V.’

  ‘Hi Bella.’

  ‘Well, hello, Little Miss Busy.’ Ouch, there was a touch of snide in her voice, I was in the doghouse, but she came and kissed me on both cheeks before stepping to one side with a ridiculously arch look towards Nate. She didn’t say the words, Well, hello again, isn’t this fun, but she might as well have done.

  With a sigh, I said, ‘You remember Nate – this is his daughter, Grace.’ I could see her totting things up with acuity, taking two plus two to fifty-five in mere seconds.

  ‘How cool meeting you here – it was meant to be. You can help us choose a tree,’ said Bella.

  ‘We’ve actually just bought a tree,’ I said. I could see how this might play out if she had her way.

  ‘Excellent, that means you’ve got the inside track. You’re already warmed up.’ She herded Ella and Rosa towards me. ‘What do you reckon, girls, do you want Aunty V to help you find the tree while I go and look at the wreaths and –’ she paused with a sickly grin before adding ‘– search out the mistletoe?’

  ‘Actually,’ Nate chipped in before I could say anything, ‘we’ve been here a while and Grace is getting a bit cold, so we need to head off.’

  With those no-nonsense words, Nate earned my heartfelt gratitude.

  ‘That’s all right. V can stay and help us.’ She looked down. ‘Nice snow boots, by the way. Your feet look dead cosy in those.’ God, Bella had absolutely no subtlety whatsoever.

  ‘Unfortunately, we’re on our way to see Phyllis,’ said Nate. ‘Otherwise, I’m sure Viola would have loved to stay and help. Sorry, Bella, it’s nice to see you again but we’ve got a lot to do today and Viola’s working later.’

  ‘You’re going to Viola’s parents’?’ Bella’s sums had just tripled.

  ‘Yes,’ I said hurriedly. ‘To get some old Christmas decorations out of the storage room.’

  ‘Nice to see you,’ said Nate again, putting arm around me and steering me towards the exit.

  ‘Oh. OK. Yes. Right. Well. Nice to see you too,’ said Bella, too sideswiped by Nate’s decisive attitude to say any more.

  ‘Come on, Grace,’ he said.

  ‘Wow,’ I muttered, ‘that was impressive. Thank you.’

  ‘You need to stand up for yourself a bit more.’ He turned out of the St John’s Church yard. ‘If you’ll excuse me saying it, your family is rather demanding.’

  ‘Bella’s OK,’ I said tentatively. ‘I enjoy spending time with her and my nieces.’

  ‘Sorry – was I being interfering?’ Nate apologised.

  I put an arm through his. ‘Actually, no, it was rather nice having a knight in shining armour coming to my rescue.’

  Portobello Market was much quieter than usual today; the weather had kept the tourists away and some of the fruit and vegetable stalls looked a bit sparse. The snow had clearly affected transport routes as there were still lots of roads closed, with some parts of the country experiencing record levels of snowfall.

  There was one stall that I was particularly keen to check out, as I wanted to buy a couple of decorations for myself and the girls, Ella, Rosa and Laura as well as Tina’s daughters. I thought I’d also get one for Bella as a peace offering, although, to be fair, she was so thick-skinned she probably didn’t need one. It was a vintage stall, where the lady gave new life to items by decorating and embellishing them with old bits of jewellery and bric-a-brac.

  Grace skipped between Nate and me as we stopped at the market stalls, the poor stall-holders in fingerless gloves, clapping their hands and blowing on them. It wasn’t the weather to linger and it was a relief to track down the stall quite quickly. While I perused Verity’s Vintage decorations, Grace was drawn to a stall opposite which displayed the tackier end of decorations and dragged Nate with her. They came back carrying baubles featuring rather too jolly Santa faces; with their rosy cheeks and slightly manic eyes they looked as if they’d been on the sauce since the first of December.

  After twenty minutes the cold won the battle against shopping. Poor Grace’s nose was quite pink and, even with my cosy borrowed snow boots, my feet were starting to get a bit chilly, so we picked up our pace to walk down to the very end of Portobello Road, our feet slipping
and sliding in the slush created by the amount of traffic walking down the street.

  As we got nearer to the street, I could feel my pace picking up and Grace had to skip to keep up. Nate grinned at me. ‘Excited?’

  ‘Sorry, I … I’m just looking forward to you seeing it.’ I shook my head. ‘I can’t believe you don’t know it. Do you actually live in Notting Hill?’

  Nate frowned. ‘I’ve spent too much time going to work, coming home and then, at the weekend, sticking to the tried and tested. Same cafés and coffee shops. That siege mentality. After a week at work you just want to batten down the hatches and enjoy being at home and not having to go anywhere or be anywhere.’

  ‘But you might as well live in a village or in the country. There’s so much to do and see here. How long have you lived here?’

  ‘Since just before Grace was born. I guess, once you have a child, you spend more time at home.’

  ‘Maybe – perhaps it’s because I’m still footloose and fancy-free, but one of my favourite things is to pinpoint a new pub to visit and walk there or part way there. You see different things and discover different parts of London.’

  We were almost there. I slowed on the corner and then pointed across the road. ‘Ta-dah!’

  Grace gasped.

  ‘Whoa!’ said Nate. ‘That’s a lot of Christmas trees.’

  ‘I know – it was ninety-seven last year and over twenty thousand lights.’

  ‘No!’ He stared at me and then back at the building. ‘That’s just crazy. It’s amazing.’

  Every conceivable surface of The Churchill Arms was covered in Christmas trees and all of them were covered in tiny gold white lights. They were around the outside at ground level, on the first floor obscuring the windows, with more on top of the roof and around the corners, on little platforms.

  Grace’s eyes were on stalks.

  ‘What do you think?’ I asked, feeling a little smug.

  ‘It’s incredible.’

  ‘It’s fabtastic,’ said Grace. ‘Can we go inside?’

  I looked at Nate, suddenly thinking that he might not want to take his seven-year-old daughter into a pub. Just because my parents had taken me everywhere at Grace’s age, whether age appropriate or not, didn’t mean that every parent was of the same mind.