by Karen King
‘What other balloon things have you made?’ Sam asked.
‘I’ll show you.’ Meg fetched the box of balloon animals that she’d made up that morning and took them out one by one: there was a crown hat, a teddy, a turtle, a rabbit, a monkey, a giraffe, a unicorn and a dinosaur. Then she took out the last two – a balloon reindeer and a balloon Santa – and held them up proudly.
‘They’re fantastic!’ Sam said, his eyes wide. ‘Can you show me how to make them? We can get some of the balloons, can’t we, Dad?’ he asked.
Leo picked up the Santa admiringly. ‘These are pretty spectacular. I don’t think we’ll be able to do anything like this,’ he said. ‘How did you learn to make them?’
‘And why do you make them?’ Sam chipped in. ‘Do you sell them?’
‘One question at a time,’ Meg said with a grin. ‘I make them because I organise children’s parties with Oliver, my… husband. And I learnt to make them because I saw a man making balloon animals when we went to Blackpool when I was younger, and I was so fascinated that my parents bought me one of the balloon kits he was selling. I practised a lot and now I can make all sorts of things. They’re really popular at our parties. Sometimes children ask for something special – a little girl asked for a unicorn once – so I learn how to do it and that’s another one added to my list.’
‘Can I have a balloon-making kit, please, Dad?’ Sam begged.
‘Sure, if Meg tells me where she gets them from.’ Leo grinned at Meg. ‘I think you’ve just come up with a solution to keep Sam occupied.’
‘I’ll give you the website later. But right now, we need to drink this up and get to the Fayre,’ Meg said. She had a couple of spare packs of balloons in her car; she’d tell Leo later that she’d give Sam one for Christmas. ‘I’ll show you how to make some of the animals too.’
Sam’s eyes sparkled. ‘That’ll be ace. I want to make one of those poodles for Mum. She loves poodles. We’ve got two – one black and one white – they’re a bit naughty but cute,’ he added.
‘Thank you,’ Leo whispered to Meg as she put the balloon animals back in the box. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen him so enthusiastic about anything for months.’
She smiled. ‘It’s a pleasure.’
She was glad that Sam was coming out of his mood. It must be hard for Leo – he seemed a good dad, and he clearly cared about his son.
Oliver would have made a good dad too, she thought, her mind casting back to how he got the children involved with making up silly songs at the parties, putting a tune to them and playing them on his guitar while the children loudly sang along. It was a shame he didn’t want to be one.
It didn’t make sense to her. Oliver loved children; he was good with them. Why didn’t he want one of their own? Was it because he didn’t think their marriage was strong enough, and he didn’t want their child to grow up in a broken home, as he had done? Oliver rarely spoke about his dad, Markus, but she knew Markus had walked out when Oliver was a baby then turned up years later and popped in and out of his life whenever he needed anything.
It suddenly occurred to her that she had never stopped to consider why Oliver didn’t want children. Mum had asked that too, she remembered. Maybe she really should have asked him.
She shook the thought from her head. This wasn’t just about Oliver not wanting children. It was about him lying about it. But even if he had told her the truth earlier, would she have been able to accept not having children? Was Oliver enough for her?
20
Sally
The hall was bustling with activity when they walked in. Tables were laid all around the large room and across the middle, while more were being set up. Sally could see a tombola table with an assortment of interesting goods to win, a Christmas crafts table with some beautiful handmade decorations, and a toy stall. She was so pleased that they’d got involved with this Fayre; it had taken both their minds off their marriage problems and had certainly cheered Sam up. She liked Sam, and Leo – although she was bothered that Leo and Meg were getting a bit close. She just hoped Meg wasn’t on the rebound, looking for a bit of attention from someone else. Sally knew that her daughter still loved Oliver and was heartbroken over him. Meg was vulnerable right now, and Sally hoped Leo wouldn’t take advantage of that.
'Sally! Meg!’ Rose was waving as she walked over to join them.
‘I’ve put you over here, Meg, by Leo,’ Rose said, leading them over to the left wall where two empty tables stood side by side. ‘I thought you might feel more comfortable being by someone you know. And Sally, the cake stall is the other side of the hall. I hope that’s okay?’
‘That’s perfect,’ Sally told her. She enjoyed Rose’s company; she was so outgoing and friendly.
‘Hello, Granny!’ Sam said, looking quite cheerful. ‘I’m glad you’ve put Meg next to us because then I can help both her and Dad.’
‘I think he would have deserted me and helped you,’ Leo said with a grin. ‘Those balloon animals have got him hooked.’
‘Ah, but you have the Santa Skittles,’ Meg told him. ‘I can’t wait to see those.’
‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Leo and Sam will show you the ropes. See you all later.’ And with a cheery wave, Sally went off with Rose.
There was already a big selection of cakes laid out on the table: the inevitable mince pies and gingerbread Santas and reindeers, a three-layered Victoria sponge, butterfly cakes, iced cakes, and in the centre of the table, on a silver stand, was a large Christmas cake decorated with holly, mistletoe and a Santa on a sleigh. It was a lovely display.
‘Did you make the Christmas cake?’ she asked Rose.
‘No, my mum did. She’s made a Christmas cake for years, and being almost ninety isn’t going to stop her.’ Rose reached in her handbag and took out a book of raffle tickets. ‘We’re raffling that cake; it should raise us a few pounds.’
‘I’ll buy some raffle tickets for it. I’ve made a Christmas cake but I’ve left it at home.’ Sally’s voice faltered. How silly, but thinking about the Christmas cake had suddenly made her think of Ted and all the Christmases they’d spent together. It had always been a family Christmas for them; even when Dan then Meg had left home, they had always come back for Christmas. Now it was a divided Christmas. Her with Meg – thank goodness she still had her darling daughter, although she did wish Meg and Oliver hadn’t split up – and hopefully, Dan and Katya would invite Ted over. She realised she hated to think of him spending Christmas alone.
Maybe I shouldn’t have walked out like that, she thought. Maybe I should have left it until the new year.
What difference would it have made? She still would have left and then Ted would have had the next Christmas on his own. You can’t stay together just for Christmas then up and go. She took out her purse and paid for a few strips of raffle tickets, then set about putting her own cakes on the table. Luckily, she’d found some pretty, decorated plates in the cottage so had placed the cakes on those.
‘Now I fancy a slice of that,’ a deep, rumbling voice said as Sally took the chocolate and orange gateau out of the plastic container she’d carefully placed it in. She looked up to see Rory smiling at her.
‘Thank you. I’ll be cutting it up later so I’ll save you a slice, shall I?’
Rory pointed to one of the chocolate flakes decorating the top of the cake. ‘Make sure it’s a slice with one of those on, will you?’
‘I knew you’d turn up soon,’ Rose said with a smile. ‘He never can resist cake,’ she told Sally.
‘Are you helping out on a stall or just sampling the cakes?’ Sally asked him.
‘I’m over on the house signs stall in the corner.’ He pointed over to a table where she could see some decorative house signs painted on bark and slate. ‘Bit of a hobby of mine; keeps me busy in the winter when there’s not many people wanting boat trips.’
‘They look unusual – I must pop over and have a look later,’ she said. ‘Have you been doing it for long
?’
‘A good few years now. They’re nothing fancy, mind. I’m no artist, but folks often like something a bit different.’
‘They look good to me,’ she told him. One of them had already caught her eye: a highly polished piece of bark with some flowers around it and the words ‘The Beeches’ written in a lovely calligraphic script in the middle. It surprised her that Rory wrote in calligraphy; he seemed such an ‘outdoor’ sort of man, but he obviously also had a softer, more creative side. She’d always wanted a name for their house but Ted thought it was a bit pretentious. ‘A number is enough,’ he’d said.
Maybe she could buy a sign for her new house? She had no idea where she’d be living though. She hadn’t thought beyond coming down here for Christmas.
Rory went off to his table as people started to pour into the hall. It was quite a crowd. I hope we raise a lot of money, Sally thought. Enough to buy presents for all the children in hospital. Obviously, the children would have presents from their parents and families too but it would be nice to cheer them all up with a few more. It was such a shame to be in hospital over Christmastime.
Quite a crowd had gathered around the cake table, so Sally and Rose were busy serving for the next half hour or so. When finally there was chance to get away, Sally offered to fetch a much-needed cup of coffee for herself and Rose. As she walked back with the drinks she spotted Oliver standing at the entrance, watching Meg.
21
Meg
Meg felt something, she wasn’t sure what. A feeling of being watched? She glanced over at the door and her heart skipped a beat. ‘Oliver!’
His eyes met hers then he smiled and walked over, and her heart did a giddy little leap. He’d come to see her. Did he want to talk? To apologise? God knew she wanted to talk to him.
She turned to Leo, who was supervising an extremely loud game of Reindeer Hoopla. ‘Would you watch my stall for a moment please? Oliver’s just arrived.’
Leo nodded. ‘Of course.’
Meg started walking towards Oliver, her eyes on his. Closer and closer they got until suddenly he was standing in front of her and she longed to wrap her arms around him and kiss him. Instead they stood feet apart, but their eyes locked so intensely she knew he still loved her just like she still loved him. Knew it for certain. For a moment they stood in silence, staring at each other as if there was no one else in the room but them. Oliver’s deep voice broke the spell. ‘Hello, Meg.’
‘Hello, Oliver.’ She had no idea how she managed to keep her voice steady, how she stopped herself from flinging herself at him. ‘How did you know I was here? Did Dad tell you?’
‘Yes, he phoned me last night,’ he admitted, adding quickly, ‘I was thinking of phoning him but wasn’t sure if I should, what with him and your mum splitting up too. He’s pretty cut up about it, Meg.’
‘I know, so is Mum. I’m not sure they can work it out though.’
Oliver looked over at the stall where Leo was now selling someone a balloon dinosaur. ‘You seem to have settled in well down here.’
‘We’re just helping out. The villagers are raising funds for Christmas presents for the children in the local hospital,’ Meg told him.
‘Meg, can we talk?’ he asked softly.
She nodded, although looking at him – his dark hair tousled, his eyes gazing at her intently – talking was the last thing on her mind. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, trace her finger over his lips then kiss them slowly. ‘I’m tied up here for another hour or so though; I can’t just abandon my stall.’
‘Then I’ll help you,’ he offered. As they walked over towards the stall together, she longed to reach out and wrap her hand in his. They always used to hold hands when they walked along, sit as close as they could on the sofa, always within reach of each other. The thought that they would never hold hands again filled her with sadness.
‘Leo, this is Oliver, my… husband,’ she said as they reached the stall.
Leo held out his hand. ‘Hi, I’m Leo. Sam – my son here – and I are in charge of the games.’
‘It looks like you’re all having fun,’ Oliver said easily as he shook Leo’s hand.
‘We are, but it’s manic. Give me a shout if you need me to cover again, Meg,’ Leo said as he shifted over to his own stall, which Sam had been proudly manning alone.
Meg and Oliver slipped behind Meg’s table. Oliver looked admiringly at the assortment of animals Meg had made with the balloons. ‘This is a fantastic display.’
‘Thank you.’ It felt so strange, so awkward, almost as if they were strangers. She wanted to cry for the love and closeness they’d once had.
A young girl approached the stall, clutching her mum’s hand. ‘Can I have a unicorn balloon, please?’
‘What colour do you want, sweetheart?’ Meg asked. ‘I have white or pink.’
The girl pondered for a moment then decided. ‘Pink, please.’
Meg passed her the pink unicorn, took the money the little girl handed her and put it into a box under the table.
The table was a magnet for children, and Meg and Oliver were both busy serving them for the next hour or so. Leo and Sam’s table was busy too, and laughter often exploded from the children participating in the games. Now and again Sam shouted something to Meg and she laughed, glad to see that he and Leo were getting on so well. Her own takings box was brimming, and when she’d glanced over at the cake stall, she’d seen a crowd of people around that too. In fact, all the stalls were busy. It looked like the Christmas Fayre was going to be a success.
And Oliver was standing beside her, helping her. He’d come to see her. He wanted her back. And she wanted him back too, so desperately, she admitted to herself. Seeing him again had brought everything rushing back, made her realise how much she loved him.
But Oliver had made a future together impossible. Even if Oliver said he’d changed his mind, she would always wonder if he’d just been saying it to please her.
* * *
The hall was emptying now, most of the stalls bare of their goods, including Meg’s. All she had left was a balloon dinosaur and a pink poodle. I wonder how much we’ve collected, she thought as she turned to Sam and handed him the two remaining balloon animals.
‘Would you like these for helping me?’ she asked. He really had been a big help today, transforming into a smiling, helpful lad. He and Leo had been joking about with each other and she’d caught a glimpse of an easy bond between them. Meg wondered if Sam’s mother knew how unhappy he was about her going away without him. But then, she had a right to her happiness too, didn’t she? You couldn’t expect her to take Sam on her honeymoon, especially when he had a loving father he could stay with.
‘Yes, please!’ Sam eagerly held his hands out for the balloon animals.
‘Looks like it’s been a success,’ Oliver said. It had been so good to be with him again. ‘When will you know how much you’ve raised?’
‘We’re meeting up later. Then Rose will go and buy the presents on Monday. I think her brother is going with her too,’ Meg told him, closing up her balloon kit.
‘That went really well. Rose is pleased. We’ve been completely cleared of cakes,’ Sally said as she came over to the table. She smiled at Oliver. ‘Hello, love.’
‘Hello, Sally.’
Mum and Oliver had always got on well. Although Oliver clearly adored his own mum, Faye, she had moved over to Portugal years ago and he hardly saw her, so Sally was like his substitute mother. Oliver didn’t have much of a family, actually, she acknowledged. Oliver had told her that neither of his parents had any siblings and he’d hardly ever seen his grandparents on either side. It had been just him and his mum when he was growing up. You’d think he’d want a family of his own, to fill his life with people who love him.
‘I’m off for a drink with Rose and Rory so the cottage is empty for a few hours if you two want a bit of privacy to talk things over,’ Sally said.
‘Thanks, Mum.’ Meg turned to Oliver
. ‘Do you want to go for a walk, to the pub or back to the cottage?’
‘Can we go for a walk?’ he asked.
She’d hoped he’d say that. She wanted some fresh air after spending the afternoon cooped up in the hall. Besides, she found it easier to talk when walking, rather than the intimacy of being close together in a small room. It would be too easy to end up falling into Oliver’s arms. And maybe into bed. But the problem would still be there.
‘Sure. Shall we walk along the harbour? It’s only a few minutes down the hill,’ she suggested. ‘Where’s your car parked?’
‘In the car park here. Yours?’ he asked.
‘Same,’ she told him. ‘They’ll be fine there for another couple of hours, but first let me put my balloon stuff in the car.’
‘I’ll put it in mine,’ Sally told her, taking the box off her. ‘You two get yourselves off.’
* * *
They walked down the hill side by side, not quite touching. Meg wondered if Oliver had his hands in his pockets because, like her, he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and taking her hand, slipping into the easy familiarity they’d always had. She missed him so much her soul ached.
‘It’s a pretty village. What made your mum come here?’ Oliver asked as they walked past the rows of pastel-coloured terraced houses.
‘It’s where she and Dad spent their honeymoon. So it’s got lots of special memories for Mum. She said that she wanted to come here to think things over, to make sure she was making the right decision.’
‘Do you think they’ll get back together?’
They were almost at the harbour now; she could smell the sea air, hear the seagulls squawking.
‘I don’t know. Mum is sad, of course, but she seems so… different… when she’s not with Dad – sparkly, happy. Dad is upset, angry, being stubborn… He’s told her unless she comes back for Christmas, they’re finished. I think they’ve just grown apart and Dad will settle for that but Mum can’t.’