by Pamela Fudge
‘Never thought it would happen,’ Sandy said, ‘you and Owen going your separate ways, we always thought you would end up together for real.’
She was beginning to get on my nerves and I thought her extremely tactless discussing my liaison with Owen – or lack of one - in front of Stuart, so I said flatly, ‘It wasn’t going to happen. You, of all people should know that.’
‘I suppose so, but it seemed such a shame. We introduced them you know,’ she informed Stuart, ‘thinking they would be the ideal couple, but the relationship never was…’
‘…what it seemed,’ Stuart finished for her. ‘I know, but I’m hoping ours will eventually be exactly what it seems.’
I breathed a sigh of relief when we managed to get away, after making promises to meet up while they were in the area.
‘I must apologise for Sandy,’ I pulled a face.
‘Don’t,’ he said, putting his hand over mine on the trolley handle. ‘If I was still carrying any doubts about the role Owen played in your life for so long, she has completely abolished them. I should be thanking her.’
I felt I should have been cross that he had obviously still had his doubts, but I’d be the first to agree that our circumstances had been unusual, to say the least. I was also pleased by what Stuart had said about his hopes for us.
We finished the rest of the shopping without further interruption, Stuart proved to be a master at packing and in no time I had paid an eye-watering amount to the cashier and we were making for the exit.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Owen commented, when we had finally home and had hauled everything into the house, ‘the food and the decorations.’
‘A bit over-the-top, you think?’ I tried not to sound defensive. ‘Well, maybe it is, but that first year in the same house I think we both tried to over-compensate because of the missing parent in each family – and it’s kind of stuck.’
‘But the children are adults now,’ he pointed out.
‘Didn’t you have traditions?’
‘Only the skiing – but I suppose it’s different when you have kids.’
‘It is,’ I agreed, ‘even when they’re grown up.’
‘I’d like to meet your children,’ Stuart said suddenly.
‘And so you shall,’ I promised, from the depths of a cupboard where I was organising the tins, and then surfacing, I added, ‘but it will have to be all five of them – Owen’s as well - I’ll tell them about you when they are all at home. It will make things easier.’
‘Easier?’
‘If I tell one on the phone the first one will be sharing the news with the others before I replace the receiver. I want them to hear it from me – otherwise you will seem like a guilty secret.’
‘And I’m not?’
‘No reason for me to feel guilty – or to keep you a secret.’ I spoke emphatically, and I believed it, but that didn’t stop me wondering what the reaction was going to be.
Chapter Nine
I don’t know how I did it in the time, but by the week before Christmas everything was just about organised. I had even managed to make Owen’s tiny sitting room look festive with garlands and holly, though I cheated with the tree and plumped for a fibre optic one. At the last minute I also bought a smaller one for Arthur. His face was an absolute picture when I’d set it up and flicked the switch.
‘I’d no idea they had such things,’ he stared at it, scratching his thinning curls in amazement.
‘You don’t like it,’ I stated, disappointed, but accepting that his taste would obviously run to the more traditional.
‘Oh, I do,’ he assured me. ‘How on earth does it change colour like that? I shall waste hours just looking at it. Wait until I tell our Ron about it.’
I smiled pleased with the way the pretty tree made the room immediately seem more festive.
‘Our children will start arriving from tomorrow,’ I said, realising how much I was looking forward to seeing them for more than a few hours. ‘They’ve all managed to get Christmas off, which is pretty amazing, though some will be arriving earlier and others leaving later. The bit in the middle, in particular Christmas day, we’ll all be together for, which is the important thing.’
‘Are you sure we won’t be imposing – Gizmo and me? Christmas is a family time.’
‘Isn’t there a saying along the lines of friends being the family that you choose for yourself?’ I asked, ‘and anyway, I think Owen and I have managed to prove that you don’t have to be family to become a family.’
‘True,’ Arthur beamed.
Wishing to be neighbourly, and with Arthur’s help over the names, I wrote a Christmas card for each person living in the close, with an invitation enclosed to join us for mulled wine on Christmas Eve.
‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ he warned, ‘because they do seem to prefer to keep themselves to themselves. Win was the only one I ever managed to become friends with – and now you.’
‘Really?’ I felt disappointed, but had to admit that friendly greetings we few and far between whenever I ventured out and were more likely to come from the postman, milkman and paperboy than the other residents. Still, I felt I should at least make the effort.
‘Oh, I don’t think so, dear,’ was my first response from the elderly lady three doors along, and, ‘thenk you, but mey husband and ay are fa-ar too busy,’ came from the exceedingly snobbish female half of the couple on my other side. I immediately decided that I didn’t want her looking down her long nose at either my Christmas decorations or my family. I could just imagine her reaction should she learn of our circumstances. No one else even bothered to respond. Well, I had been warned by Arthur and should have expected it, I supposed.
For the first time I began to miss my old multicultural neighbourhood, full of working parents and commuters who were never too busy to pass the time of day, and accepted everyone at face value.
A meeting at the school the following evening, which had culminated in a festive get-together of tutors and admin staff, went on longer than I had anticipated. Having said that, I had really enjoyed it and arranged to meet up with the people I was particularly friendly with in the New Year. It was time to get my social life back on track now things were settling down.
I arrived home to a note on my doormat informing me that Mai and Ella had arrived and were waiting next door. I didn’t have to think to hard about which next door was referred to and hastened to tap on Arthur’s door.
The girls wrapped me in warm hugs when I followed Arthur in, and assured me they had been very well looked after in my absence - and followed that up with the demand to know why could they had never been allowed to have a sweet little dog like Gizmo when they were all growing up.
‘Erm, because it was left to me to look after the rabbit, the fish, the gerbils, and all manner of other sundry animals,’ I reminded them laughing, and Arthur was quick to join in with similar memories of the pets Ron had been allowed to own and then not taken care of. I shuddered and accepted that I had actually got off lightly when he mentioned a snake.
I was loath to hurry them away and it was quite late by the time we finally made it indoors with heavy holdalls the girls assured me were stuffed with Christmas presents.
‘No dirty washing then,’ I said, dumping the bag I was hefting into the spare room, ‘that’s a relief.’
‘We-ell,’ Mai said, with a cheeky smile, ‘there may be just a couple of things.’
‘And a couple among my things, too,’ Ella admitted, ‘like the top I want to wear on Christmas day, my favourite jeans and…’
‘Stop,’ I held up my hand, ‘I get the picture.’
We all looked at each other and burst out laughing, happy to be together and already getting into the usual banter.
Mai was my daughter, eighteen years old, slim and blonde, and Ella was Owen’s nineteen-year-old daughter, also slim and blonde, easily mistaken for twins – and they often were. Only three and four years old when Owen and I
cobbled our families together, they had bonded immediately and been inseparable ever since.
Studying at different universities didn’t seem to have affected their close relationship in the slightest. I could only guess at the phone bills they were running up and made a mental note to get Owen to check they were on the best mobile contracts for their usage. Watching them settle in to the twin bedded room, it seemed as if they’d never been apart and nothing had changed. I found myself wishing, rather futilely, that Alice could have been as accepting of the change in our circumstances.
How different it was next morning for me to wake to the sound of bright chatter from the two girls already up and pottering in the kitchen by the sound of it. I was proved right when my bedroom door inched open and two smiling faces – one above the other – peered in.
‘Good morning,’ I couldn’t keep the huge smile from my face, finally admitted how much I missed having the family around me and determined to enjoy every minute of the time they were here.
‘You’re awake.’ Mai was first through the door with a cup of tea, closely followed by Ella with two slices of toast on a plate.
‘What would you have done if I’d been asleep?’ I asked, biting into hot toast liberally spread with butter.
‘The same as we’ve been doing for the past hour,’ Ella said cheekily. ‘just keep boiling the kettle and toasting the bread until you woke up. I’m afraid we’ve used almost a whole loaf of bread.’
‘Good grief,’ I said.
‘We didn’t waste any,’ Mai assured me, ‘because we ate most of it ourselves and even took some round to Arthur.’
I almost choked on my tea. ‘Good grief,’ I said again.
By the time I had enjoyed the luxury of breakfast in bed, and a long leisurely shower, coffee was waiting for me in a kitchen that had been cleared of all signs of breakfast. While dressing I had been treated to the sound of the vacuum cleaner being vigorously applied to carpet and as I sipped my coffee I could see through the window that washing was already pegged on the line and blowing well in a brisk December breeze.
‘You have been busy,’ I approved, taking my drink to sit at the dining table where they both joined me.
‘So have you,’ Ella said setting the biscuit barrel down, ‘the tree looks gorgeous.’
‘Thank you, your Dad helped, so if you’d said it looked terrible I would have advised you to blame him.’
‘It was nice of you to find the time to decorate his house as well,’ Mai said. ‘You’ve been really busy. Is there anything that we can do?’
I watched them devouring biscuits one after the other and wondered where they were putting them all – and after all that toast, too.
‘No, everything is under control, just the turkey to collect – a fresh one of course. Are you two getting enough to eat?’
They looked at each other and then at the depleted biscuit supply and giggled.
‘Lots of beans on toast and pot noodles, but the bursary won’t run to biscuits.’ Mai went to put the lid back on the barrel, and I stopped her, saying, ‘Eat up, both of you. I don’t grudge you anything and certainly not a measly packet of biscuits or three – though I’ll keep the fancy Christmas ones hidden for now, if it’s all the same to you,’ and watched their eyes light up.
It was just lovely to enjoy their cheerful company and with no teaching until the new term in January and the preparations for Christmas all in hand I was free to do just that. We made mince pies, just as we had used to do when they were small children and made up the blow-up bed for Connor while the pies were in the oven.
‘It’s a lovely work space.’ Ella looked around enviously, ‘and I have an assignment to complete before I go back. Do you think…?’
‘Of course,’ I agreed immediately. ‘Someone had best make use of it, because so far I’ve only written Christmas cards up here.’
‘Mu-um,’ Mai tried to sound disapproving and stern, but didn’t quite bring it off, ‘what about the novel?’
‘Still up here.’ I tapped my head. ‘What with moving and Christmas there’s just been too much going on.’
I caught a look between them but couldn’t quite interpret its meaning, so I just continued, ‘Plenty of time when the festivities are over. January and February are dreary months, anyway. The ideal time to be snug indoors, I’ll make a start then. Actually,’ I said, more as a distraction than anything else, ‘you can both help to carry the presents down and put them under the tree. They’re in that cupboard and.’ I went on as they fell over each other to get there first, ‘no feeling or guessing the contents or it will spoil the surprise.’
I was wasting my breath, and I knew it, as I watched them almost wrench the door from its hinges and began to ooh and aah over the brightly wrapped parcels.
We were loaded up when the doorbell rang and all tried to get down the stairs first guessing it heralded the arrival of Connor.
‘You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,’ he beamed, taking in the three of us weighed down with gifts. ‘They’re all for me, I take it.’
Somehow we hugged and kissed around our burdens, and then he said appreciatively, ‘Something smells good,’ and we ran shrieking to rescue the mince pies with Connor following more slowly and laughing loudly.
‘Nothing much has changed – except the house,’ he commented, watching the three of us tripping over each other to take pies from the oven and lift them from the tins onto wire cooling trays. ‘Haven’t you heard the saying that too many cooks spoil the broth?’
‘Be quiet, smart arse,’ commented Ella cheerfully, ‘just try one of these and see what you think.’
We all watched him anxiously as we waited for the verdict and he took his time delivering it. First admiring the pie - transferring it from hand to hand because it was still hot enough to burn his fingers – he took a bite and we each held our breath while he chewed slowly apparently savouring the texture and the flavour.
In the end Mai lost patience. ‘Oh, get on with it, Connor, do. You’re not on Come Dine With Me, you know.’
Refusing to be hurried, he carried on eating slowly and then said, ‘I believe I would need to test another before being able to give an honest opinion,’ and with that he snatched another from the cooling tray and ran off, laughing and spraying crumbs everywhere, with the girls in hot pursuit.
‘OK, OK, I give in,’ he yelled when he was finally pinned down with the girls on top of him. ‘They’re perfect.’
‘Jeez,’ Ella said, getting up and dusting off her hands as if she had just beaten him in some sort of tournament, ‘all that just to get him to state the obvious. No wonder he’s not a judge on Ready, Steady Cook.’
By this time I was laughing so hard that I had to hold onto the worktop because I was in real danger of collapsing. ‘Stop now, that’s enough,’ I pleaded. ‘Girls, the parcels won’t put themselves under the tree.’ I indicated the pile we had abandoned in the middle of the dining room table while we rescued the pies from the oven. ‘And, Connor, you’re in my office on a blow-up bed, so if you’d like to bring your bags in. I’ve put a clothes rail up there for you.’
Mai looked up from where she was artistically arranging presents in a circle under the tree. ‘You are joking,’ she scoffed, ‘I don’t think he ever familiarised himself with coat hangers. He always hung most of his clothes on the floor – and he probably still does.’
‘Well, I won’t even dignify those remarks with a response,’ he said, and lifting his nose snootily in the air, he made for the door, where he paused to ask, ‘Is it all right to park in the close, because I saw a net or two twitching in what I took to be disapproval?’
‘They don’t seem to be the friendliest of neighbours,’ I said regretfully, ‘but as long as you’re not over a driveway, I don’t think they can have anything to say. Your car can fit in alongside mine at the front, though, so put it there.’
‘We decided to come by train using our student passes,’ Ella was standing back to ad
mire the effect of the prettily arranged packages. ‘Less trouble all round.’
‘And if you want to go into town for any reason, you would rely on public transport, of course, so I won’t need to offer anyone a lift – even if they miss the last bus home.’
He said all of this in such a reasonable tone that I hid a smile and watched Ella hesitate.
‘We-ell,’ she said finally, ‘when you put it like that, you are, of course, the kindest, most generous of brothers.’
I loved it when the children talked like that, easily dismissing the fact that they weren’t blood relatives – Connor being my son and Ella Owen’s daughter. It always made me feel a bit emotional.
Blinking quickly, I encouraged, ‘Bring the car in, and get your stuff upstairs and then you can all decide what you would like for dinner, while I make sandwiches for lunch.’
‘Shepherds’ pie,’ they all yelled in unison without even a pause for thought.
‘Well, that’s really going to stretch my culinary talents,’ I said, ‘and I don’t know why I even bothered to ask for a preference when I already knew the answer. We could invite Arthur, he’d love that. Did I tell you he’s coming joining us on Christmas day?’
‘Lovely,’ Ella said, and then she hesitated and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence before she asked, ‘And your new man – will he be joining us, too?’
Chapter Ten
The words, ‘your new boyfriend,’ seem to ring out and we stood in a weirdly silent tableau. I’d been caught in the act of buttering bread and froze on the spot with the knife poised, Connor had stopped halfway through the door and was obviously uncertain whether to continue forward, or come back into the room, and Mai sat up so suddenly that she knocked a plastic reindeer off the tree and had pine needles in her hair.
Oh, Ella,’ she said in a reproving voice, ‘you know we agreed not to say anything.’
