Christmas for Beginners: Fall in love with the ultimate festive read from the Sunday Times bestseller

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Christmas for Beginners: Fall in love with the ultimate festive read from the Sunday Times bestseller Page 25

by Carole Matthews


  Lucas shakes his head, tutting. ‘And he thinks I’m the flaky one.’

  Then I see that Matt is standing by the Christmas tree. He’s in a smart coat and he’s wearing his heavy, gold mayoral chain of office. By his side is a very pretty young woman. She dresses like Aurora does, in faded jeans and boots with a chunky jacket. Her hair is dark and wavy. She is wearing make-up and has combed hair. They’re laughing together and his manner is easy and relaxed with her, as it is with everyone.

  Matt must sense me watching them as he turns around and our eyes meet. He smiles and ushers his date towards me. My stomach rolls as they approach.

  ‘I love the bling,’ I say when they’re in front of me.

  ‘Fancy, eh? Comes with the turf.’ He strokes his gold chain. ‘How are you coping with all this?’

  ‘I’m doing surprisingly well,’ I tell him.

  ‘This is Victoria,’ he says, turning to his date. ‘She teaches at Ashlands primary school in Aylesbury.’

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ Victoria has a warm smile and a gentle face. I bet she’s a hit with her pupils. We shake hands. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. This is a great place you have,’ Victoria says. ‘Matt has been telling me all about it and how much he loves coming up here.’

  ‘We very much appreciate that he does.’ I avoid looking at him as I’ve no idea what the expression on my face is doing.

  ‘I’d love to bring my school kids up here for a day out. Do you do that kind of thing?’

  ‘We haven’t. As yet,’ I admit. ‘But it’s something my marketing manager, Bev, is considering.’ Bev will be pleased that I’ve promoted her. No pay rise, obvs.

  ‘We should talk, then,’ Victoria says. ‘At the start of the new term, I’ll call her.’

  ‘Great.’

  They look good together. A perfect couple. And she seems like a really nice woman. Ideal girlfriend material. In fact, she’d probably make an even better wife. So why am I not pleased?

  ‘I’ve come to give a hand with the animals, if you need help,’ Matt says and stops my musings.

  ‘I think we’ve got it covered.’ I turn to Lucas, who nods that we have. ‘You can relax until it’s light-switching-on time. Have some wine, try your hand at the tombola!’ I sound too jolly.

  ‘Let me know if there’s anything you need,’ he says.

  ‘I will. Lovely to meet you, Victoria.’

  ‘Likewise.’ She’s endearingly earnest and enthusiastic. ‘Matt talks about you a lot.’

  Does he? Again, an exchanged glance between us that’s loaded and unfathomable. I hope that she doesn’t notice.

  ‘See you shortly,’ Matt says, taking his gaze from mine.

  ‘Yeah.’ I pin a smile on my face and stay like that until they move away.

  ‘New girlfriend?’ Lucas looks disappointed. ‘I thought you two were going to get it together.’

  ‘I’m with your father,’ I remind him.

  ‘You think he’s being faithful while he’s away?’ Lucas snorts. ‘You saw all those young girls fawning over him. Good luck with that one.’

  ‘You have a very low opinion of him.’

  ‘That’s because I know him better than you. You’re more suited to Matt, you know that. Bev says so, too.’

  But Bev also knows why this needs to work with Shelby, whereas Lucas does not. I think he’ll be furious when he finds out, and I’m dreading telling him. If I’m honest, more so than Shelby.

  ‘We should get the animals set up,’ I say. ‘Time’s getting on.’

  ‘He’s not coming, you know,’ Lucas says.

  ‘He’ll be here,’ I counter. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Lucas says. ‘Daddy doesn’t care that this is a big day for us and for the students. Daddy Dearest just thinks of himself.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ I tell him and hope to goodness that I’m right. I need Shelby here, otherwise I think I might go a little bit mad.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  We take the animals out of their pens and lead them into the barn where they take up their places in the nativity scene. They have been beautifully dressed in festive livery and it makes me laugh out loud to see them. I’m guessing that Bev must have been busy on eBay.

  The sheep and goats have little Santa hats on, held by elastic under their chins, and they look unbearably cute. The geese must be in an agreeable mood as they’re wearing jaunty Christmassy neckerchiefs and aren’t currently trying to nip anyone. Teacup has a festive scarf which he’s currently trying to eat. Sweeny and Carter are in situ in the adjacent stables which are framed by arches of holly. Just their huge presence is calming. Everyone is looking very spruce and angelic.

  And, something that gladdens my heart, our feral farmyard cat – Phantom – with his half-face and goosestep gait is up in the rafters of the barn looking down on the scene. We rarely get a glimpse of him and it’s nice that even he has deigned to join in on this our special day.

  The only problem – as usual – is the alpacas. As Lucas said, they’re already strangely frisky and are skittering about. Perhaps it’s because they’ve been haltered for a while and it’s one of the very many things that they don’t like. No one has even tried to get near them with Christmas adornments.

  ‘We’ll stay here,’ I say to Lucas. ‘Until they calm down.’

  ‘OK.’

  To prove my point Johnny bounces round in a circle and takes me with him.

  ‘Chill out, man,’ Lucas tells him and rubs his neck.

  As there’s activity in the barn, the crowd start to gather around, even though we’re not quite ready for them.

  The donkeys, Harriet and Hilda, are much more relaxed and settle in their corner of our Bethlehem/deepest Buckinghamshire stable. Lottie and Erin have been busy behind the scenes and they lead in Ringo, Buzz Lightyear and Beyoncé all dressed for the occasion – humans and ponies. The ponies have red sparkly ribbons threaded through their manes and tails plus, as promised, red glittery hooves. The ponies look quite pleased with their glamorous selves. Especially, Beyoncé. The sheep, as malleable as ever, mill about at the front of the scene, just content to look for something they can eat.

  Jack and Tamara are dressed as Joseph and Mary. They take their places in the stable behind the crib. Three more students are dressed as the three wise men and even more as shepherds are ushered in. It’s apparent that a lot of old tea towels and bed sheets have been pressed into service. I blame that on Bev. Joseph is totally ignoring Mary and, instead, is staring open-mouthed at the two rather skimpily dressed teen Christmas elves, which I don’t remember being part of a traditional nativity set-up.

  When they’re all assembled, Lucas flicks a switch and lights come on all over the barn. It’s late afternoon now and is getting dark, so they shine out brightly. The star twinkles and the stable is bathed in a mellow and suitably holy glow. Behind us is a painted backdrop of a city nightscape with little fairy lights peeping through the windows. Even the blond, blue-eyed Baby Jesus doesn’t seem so freaky now he’s in context. It all looks so much better than I’d hoped and I wonder how I ever doubted that we could pull this off.

  Bev comes to the front of the barn and addresses the people who’ve braved the cold to be here.

  ‘Thanks, everyone, for coming along today. I hope you’ve enjoyed some mulled wine, played some games, visited our sequined Santa, won something you want on the tombola and, last but not least, have learned something of the work we do here. If you haven’t, then do speak to one of our staff or our students who are here today and are happy to tell you all about us.’

  Everyone gives a big clap.

  ‘The students are going to sing a couple of Christmas songs for you and then our resident poet, Lucas Dacre, will read his festive poem.’

  Next to me, Lucas fidgets uncomfortably. I admit to being worried by this as I still haven’t heard it.

  The rest of the students
come into the barn and gather round. Bev gives them the signal to start singing and, as one, they launch into a chorus of ‘O, Holy Night.’ It’s beautiful and tuneful and I had no idea that our motley crew of badly behaved, troubled and autistic kids were capable of making such a wonderful sound. I don’t know when they’ve been practising this – behind my back, obviously – but they’ve nailed it. By the time they finished, word and note-perfect – well almost – there’s not a dry eye in the house.

  Buoyed by success, they then launch straight into ‘Jingle Bells’ with equal aplomb. It’s breathtaking – and I’m not just being biased because they’re my miraculous misfits. The applause is enthusiastic and heartfelt. Encouraged by cheering, they do another round of ‘Jingle Bells’ and everyone sings along at the top of their voices. When the collection buckets go round the crowd, they jingle with spare change.

  Across the barn, I see Matt standing with Victoria and he winks at me. Job well done. I smile back in acknowledgement and see Victoria take note of the exchange between us.

  Then it’s Lucas’s turn and my heart is in my mouth. It’s so disappointing that Shelby isn’t here to see this and I grumble to myself under my breath.

  Bev shouts out. ‘Please put your hands together for our own award-winning poet, Lucas Dacre, with a specially written Christmas poem.’

  ‘Take this,’ Lucas says and hands me Tina’s halter. Our diva also does a merry dance in a circle, nearly knocking me over. What on earth is wrong with them today?

  ‘Woah,’ I say, trying to calm her down.

  Bev comes up next to me and takes Johnny and Rod.

  ‘They’re a nightmare,’ I tell her. ‘Even more twitchy than usual.’

  ‘Performance pressure,’ Bev says.

  ‘I hope Lucas doesn’t suffer from it. Now, I mean. Not . . . you know . . .’

  She laughs at me. ‘Do you ever stop worrying?’

  ‘No.’

  Lucas goes to the front of the barn and pulls a sheet of paper from his back pocket.

  He looks squarely at the crowd. ‘This is called “Nativity Schmativity”’.

  Then he takes a deep breath and launches in, spitting it out in his usual style.

  ‘You’re forgetting the true meaning of Christmas!’

  She said,

  ‘I am?’

  I replied,

  ‘You mean that kid in the shed?’

  ‘Our lord and our saviour was born in a stable.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  I baited,

  ‘I thought that was fable?’

  It was pagan tradition to decorate trees,

  At the solstice of winter,

  their gods to appease.

  The Roman god Bacchus said:

  ‘Eat, drink, be merry,

  Feast of the beast and the vine and the berry’.

  The Americans stole European folklores,

  creating the hybrid they called ‘Santa Claus’.

  Mix it all up with commercial allusions

  And the meaning of Christmas is lost

  . . . to confusion.

  The crowd applaud and Lucas does a mock bow.

  Bev turns to me. ‘An interesting take on “write us a lovely, festive poem please, Lucas.”’

  ‘He always sounds so angry and unhappy,’ I say, concerned.

  Bev shrugs. ‘That’s poets for you. Miserable buggers.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I have limited experience of poets, but can only agree.

  ‘We do have one extra surprise, though.’ Bev claps her hands and shouts out, ‘Is everyone ready for the big finale?’

  My heart is in my mouth. A surprise? Oh, my goodness. What now?

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Lucas takes centre stage again and this time he’s wearing the most tasteless Christmas jumper I’ve ever seen. It has a tiny elf outfit on the front and mulit-coloured pom-poms all down the arms.

  He gives me a wry smile and then turns to the kids. ‘Ready to do your bit?’

  They all shuffle about excitedly.

  ‘This is called “Everybody, It’s Christmas”.’

  Everybody, it’s Christmas!

  And the kids shout out their echo of, ‘Christmas!’

  Everybody, it’s Christmas!

  Christmas!

  the happiest day of the year,

  where everyone gathers together;

  their hearts full of goodwill and cheer.

  Everybody, it’s Christmas!

  Christmas!

  that most wondrous day of the year,

  the time for peace and celebration

  and over-indulgence, draws near.

  Everybody, it’s Christmas!

  Christmas!

  that most magical day of the year,

  children rapt in anticipation,

  as they wait for St Nick to appear.

  Everybody, it’s Christmas!

  Christmas!

  the high point in everyone’s year,

  fifty-two weeks,

  we’ve been waiting,

  well, that day

  it is finally here.

  The atmosphere’s intoxicating,

  ’cause that day

  it is finally here.

  Everyone’s here celebrating,

  ’cause Christmas is finally here!

  All the kids, now quite giddy with excitement, shout and cheer ‘Christmas!’. The audience go into a frenzy of applause once more. Lucas grins across at me and I blow him a kiss. His look says, I can fake Christmas if required. And he has. That poem was totally out of Lucas’s comfort zone, but he delivered it at perfect pitch. I couldn’t be more proud of him. He’s even managed to put his anti-Christmas sentiments aside to do something for the students.

  ‘I need to get the mayor to turn on the lights now,’ Bev whispers to me. ‘Still no sign of Shelby?’

  ‘No.’ No text either.

  ‘I’ll give him a piece of my mind when I see him,’ Bev says. ‘Do you want to leave the alpacas with the kids?’

  ‘I’m not so sure. They’re a bit of a handful today.’

  ‘No change there, then.’

  ‘Jack could probably cope with them. I think they’d pull the girls over. Where’s Alan?’

  ‘It’s only for five minutes. I’d like you down at the front with me.’

  ‘Do I have to?’

  ‘Yes.’ She pulls my arm.

  I hope she’s not going to give me a bouquet or anything like that. I’ve had enough of the limelight for one day.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  ‘The moment we’ve all been waiting for!’ Bev shouts out. ‘Our mayor, Mr Matt Eastman, will be turning on the Christmas lights!’

  Matt steps forward and says, ‘I know it’s already been said, but thank you to everyone for coming along and supporting Hope Farm. As I’m sure you’ve learned, they do great work here with challenging issues and limited funding. I hope you’ve all bought cakes, sampled the wine and cider on offer and will be taking home some of the crafts that the students have made. Dig deep and don’t go home with any loose change in your pockets! There are plenty of buckets around waiting to be filled.’

  Bev passes him the switch that Alan has rigged up for the lights and Matt continues, ‘It gives me very great pleasure to turn on the Hope Farm Christmas lights!’

  The lights shine out in a burst of multi-coloured twinkling and there’s much applause. It’s an idyllic scene with the beautiful Christmas tree and a backdrop of a nativity scene. Couldn’t be more festive if we tried.

  It’s so perfect that I let out the breath I’ve been holding. Another thing gone without a hitch. Bev’s right, I do worry too much. Our students have been brilliant. The animals have been a big hit. We have put our best foot forward and this day could not have been better. Well, Shelby could have been here, but you know how I feel about that.

  Then, before the crowd can disperse, Bev says, ‘Just one more thing before you go!’ She waves over to Alan and, looking rather be
mused, he reluctantly joins her.

  Bev stands in front of him and immediately drops to one knee. ‘I never thought I’d do this again at my time of life, but now that I’ve found you, you’re not going anywhere. Alan Taylor, would you do me the very great honour of becoming my husband?’

  It’s fair to say that Alan could not look more surprised if he tried.

  The crowd hold their breath while Alan tries to find his voice. When he does, he says, ‘I will.’

  Cheering ensues as Bev jumps to her feet and hugs her new fiancé. I find myself crying as I cheer too.

  ‘Wow.’ Lucas is at my side. ‘Did you know about that?’

  ‘No!’ I laugh. ‘I’m nearly as surprised as Alan.’ I’m so pleased for them both. I think it was such a shock when he had his stroke that it’s crystallised her feelings for him.

  The local paper have sent a photographer and he comes up to take a photograph of the newly engaged couple. Then he asks Matt to pose in front of the Christmas tree.

  As he does, there’s a terrible racket from the nativity scene behind him. I know what it is instantly. ‘Oh, shit! Not now! Not now!’

  Rod Stewart has decided to mount Tina Turner. Jack is so shocked that he drops all of their halters. I knew it was wrong to leave one of the students in sole charge. When our boys go, they have a mind of their own and the strength of an ox.

  And, believe me, when alpacas mate, they don’t do it quietly. As you would imagine, of course, our alpacas do it much louder than any others. Instantly, the racket starts up. Their mating call is known as ‘orgling’ and it sounds like someone blowing bubbles under water. Quite amusing, in its own way, but not exactly what you want at the end of your open day in the middle of the nativity scene.

  Not content to be on the sidelines, Johnny Rotten joins in. They can do this any time of the year and they frequently do. Our students don’t need sex education. They just watch this lot getting it on. But must they do it now? In front of a crowd? Do they sense that love is in the air and it’s made them feel a bit romantic too? Heaven only knows. They could do it in the privacy of their own pen when everyone’s gone home. But, no. Instead, we are treating our unsuspecting guests to an alpaca orgy. The noise of the three of them at it is ear-splitting. If this was going on in a hotel room next to yours, you’d be ringing the front desk to complain.

 

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