Christmas at the Beach Hut

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Christmas at the Beach Hut Page 26

by Veronica Henry

‘He’s a clever old thing,’ said Jack, and then handed him the final parcel, a lump in his throat. ‘This,’ he said carefully, ‘is from your mum.’

  Nat looked down at it, nodding, then peeled the paper away.

  Dr Seuss. How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Jack shook his head with a smile. Talk about a message from beyond the grave. Fran knew him too well. She’d known he would be Grinchy.

  ‘What’s it about?’ asked Nat.

  ‘It’s about a grumpy old creature who steals everyone’s Christmas presents. Because he doesn’t like Christmas. But in the end, he does. Because everyone loves Christmas, right?’

  ‘Read it.’ Nat thrust the book at him.

  He pulled his son onto his lap, relishing the very bones of him, feeling the softness of his blond hair against his own cheek. He read him every word, conscious that this was a reminder from Fran to Jack to enjoy himself, despite what had happened. She was a monkey, he thought. But today, her memory was bearable. It was the gentle throb of a healing wound, not a sharp pain.

  He looked up as he heard voices outside. He was surprised: it was still early, only just eight o’clock. Clouseau pricked up his ears. Nat’s face lit up.

  ‘Let’s go and see who it is!’

  Nat scrambled off Jack’s knee and ran to the door. Jack followed in his wake. Outside he could see Harley and Lizzy. And behind them, Leanne and River. He felt the fizz of surprise; like a tiny silver fish leaping in his belly.

  ‘Happy Christmas everybody!’ Nat stood on the step, waving his arms. ‘Happy Christmas!’

  ‘Happy Christmas, darling,’ said Lizzy, and gave him a hug. ‘Hey, Jack. We’ve got extra guests for lunch. Do you think we can manage?’

  Jack came down the stairs with a smile. ‘Definitely.’

  Leanne looked at him with a wry shrug. ‘Gatecrashers. What can you do?’

  ‘Well, luckily I’ve got a piece of lamb big enough to feed an army.’

  ‘And we bought every sausage in Lidl,’ said Lizzy.

  Jack looked up at the sky. It was a mild morning, with a blustery breeze. If he wrapped up warm he could cook everything on the barbecue. It would taste so much nicer.

  ‘Shall I make everyone a coffee?’ he said.

  ‘Actually,’ said Lizzy, ‘that would be great. Could you look after Leanne and River? Me and Harley have got an errand to run.’

  ‘Have we?’ said Harley, doing a double take.

  ‘Yep,’ said Lizzy.

  ‘Sure,’ said Jack. ‘I’ve got apricot Danish pastries, if anyone’s interested.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Leanne. ‘My favourite.’

  ‘Good,’ said Jack. ‘We aim to please.’

  He held out an arm to usher her into his hut. Nat and River clomped up the steps behind her, already engrossed in conversation.

  ‘Right,’ said Lizzy to Harley. ‘Come on.’

  Harley followed Lizzy’s determined stride back down the beach to the car park. Ten minutes later, they were driving down a row of Victorian houses in Tawcombe set in a sinuous curve above the harbour.

  ‘Most of these are flats,’ said Harley. ‘But he’s got one of the whole houses. He inherited it from his parents.’

  Lizzy could see why Leanne might have been drawn to the lifestyle Tony had to offer. The house was large and gracious, in grey stone, probably built as a holiday home for an eminent businessman in the 1800s. She pulled up on the road outside.

  ‘Sure you want me to come with you?’ Harley asked. ‘Only he might get nasty if he sees me.’

  ‘Let him,’ said Lizzy. ‘Tony Brice needs to learn that he can’t bully people.’

  Harley followed her up to the front door. He felt anxious. It was all very well, Lizzy saying Tony needed to learn, but he didn’t want to see his nasty side. Not on Christmas morning.

  Lizzy pressed on the doorbell, undaunted. After a few moments, Tony opened the door. He looked red-faced and dishevelled.

  ‘What do you want?’ he scowled, then saw Harley. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘We’ve come to pick up some things,’ said Lizzy, polite. ‘Most importantly, River’s stocking. I think it’s here? And a few clothes to keep everyone going. Until we can collect it all.’

  She smiled brightly. Tony stared at her. He was turning everything over in his mind, working out what to do, how to react.

  ‘Harley knows where everything is, so he can give me a hand.’

  ‘He’s not coming in here,’ growled Tony.

  Lizzy crossed her arms with a sigh. ‘It would be so much easier if you co-operated.’

  ‘Who the hell are you, anyway?’

  ‘I told you. You brought my friend back here, remember? You threw her out when she wouldn’t give you what you wanted. Made her walk home in her bare feet.’

  Tony shook his head as if to indicate he had no idea what she was talking about.

  ‘I imagine it probably happened a lot so you’re having trouble remembering which one she was. But don’t worry. The police can help jog your memory.’

  ‘The police?’

  ‘Assault is assault. Even after all this time.’

  ‘I never touched her.’

  ‘Oh, I think you did.’

  Harley could see the odious man trawling about in his memory bank, trying to locate the incident, trying to work out the implications.

  ‘You better come in,’ he said eventually. ‘You’ve got five minutes to get what you want.’

  ‘It’ll take as long as it takes,’ said Lizzy sweetly, breezing past him. ‘Come on, Harley. You get River’s stuff and I’ll get your mum’s.’ She produced a roll. ‘I’ve brought bin bags.’

  It took the two of them about a quarter of an hour to gather most of the things River and Leanne would need. They trooped back down the stairs with bulging bags. Tony was in the hallway, arms crossed, glowering.

  ‘Stocking?’ said Lizzy.

  ‘It’s still in the back of her car.’

  ‘OK. We’ll fetch it on the way past.’

  He put out a hand to stop her as she headed for the door. ‘I’m guessing … that’s the end of what we were talking about earlier?’

  ‘Well,’ said Lizzy. ‘It’s not up to me. It was my friend you assaulted. But if I were you I wouldn’t give Leanne any trouble. Or Harley.’

  They stared at each other for a moment. Harley shifted awkwardly, his heart beating, not quite sure of the dynamics of this exchange. All he knew was that his admiration for Lizzy was growing by the minute. She was fierce.

  Then Tony nodded.

  ‘There’ll be no trouble,’ he said.

  ‘Excellent. Merry Christmas.’ Lizzy gave him her brightest smile and swept out. Harley followed her, and they headed for the car, swinging the bags into the boot. Harley nipped back and got River’s stocking and the rest of the stuff from the back seat of Leanne’s car, then laid it carefully on Lizzy’s back seat.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Harley admiringly as they drove off. ‘You don’t take any prisoners, do you?’

  ‘Nope,’ said Lizzy, then gave a shudder. She was having flashbacks to the Ship Aground, Caroline and Tony dancing to INXS. The smell of Marlboro and sticky cocktails. Tanned skin, white teeth.

  Harley was slightly in awe. When he’d first met Lizzy, he’d thought she was a cosy, comfy, mumsy type. She was far from it.

  She was a ninja.

  His phone chirruped. He looked at it. There was a text from Hattie.

  We’re just leaving. Merry Christmas xx

  He texted back,

  Merry Christmas xx

  and looked sideways at Lizzy, wondering what she would say when they all turned up.

  43

  By midday, Harley and Jack were standing outside the two adjoining huts, wrapped up in their coats and hats. River an
d Nat were playing football and Clouseau was desperately trying to join in, to their great mirth. Jack had fired up the barbecue that he’d found in a cupboard in his hut, and the coals had just reached the perfect temperature.

  ‘This is going to be so much better cooked on here,’ he said, throwing the butterflied leg of lamb he had brought down onto the rack. A delicious spicy aroma hit the air as the hot grill seared its lines into the skin. ‘This has been marinating for three days, so it should be super tender. We can add the sausages right near the end.’

  ‘This is the craziest Christmas lunch ever!’ Harley said to Jack, handing him a beer. ‘Man. We should trademark this.’

  ‘We’re just a bunch of waifs and strays, really.’ Jack took a swig.

  ‘It’s Lizzy who’s brought us together,’ said Harley. ‘Imagine if she hadn’t turned up? We’d all be sitting on our own feeling sorry for ourselves.’ He chewed his thumbnail. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ grinned Jack. ‘Try me.’

  ‘Her family are on their way down.’

  Jack gave a whistle of surprise. ‘OK …’ He grimaced. ‘Is she going to like that?’

  ‘She told me last night she was going to go home after lunch. I think she’s missing them.’

  ‘They can’t be that bad. She’s not the sort of person who attracts bad people.’

  ‘No.’

  Harley looked awkward and Jack realised that perhaps he had been tactless.

  ‘So what’s the deal with your mum?’ He tried to sound casual.

  ‘She’s left the guy she was with. Thank God. I just hope she doesn’t go back to him. I don’t think she will …’

  Jack put a hand on his shoulder. ‘She’s lucky to have you, mate. You’ve got her back.’

  ‘I have to, don’t I? After what my dad did.’

  ‘You don’t have to be your dad. You know that, right? You get to have your own life.’

  Harley took a swig of his beer. ‘I need to figure out a few things first.’

  ‘Sure. And remember – you don’t need to figure it all out straight away. Take your time. And if you ever need someone to talk to …’

  Harley touched his beer bottle to Jack’s. ‘Thanks.’

  Jack prodded at the meat, then flipped it over. It gave a satisfying sizzle.

  ‘I feel like a different person here,’ he said, looking up at the bright blue sky. Above them a cluster of clouds tinged with gold, as if applied by the most patient gilder, hovered next to the sun.

  ‘It’s not like this every day,’ said Harley. ‘There’s a lot of rain.’

  ‘I don’t mind rain,’ said Jack.

  Standing here in the winter sunshine, wielding his barbecue tools, wearing a striped apron that Lizzy had dug out for him over his coat, he felt like himself again for the first time in a long time. Clemmie had phoned him earlier, to say Merry Christmas, and had sounded suspicious.

  ‘You sound like your old self,’ she said. ‘What’s going on down there?’

  ‘A lot of fresh air,’ said Jack. ‘And some headspace.’

  ‘Well, good,’ said his sister. ‘Mum and Dad send lots of love. And a hug for Nat.’

  There was a purity to the realisation, a massive sense of relief mixed with optimism. It seemed it was possible, however fleetingly, not to be weighed down by grief and responsibility. He wanted to wallow in the realisation; to lie down and wriggle around with joy. But he had Christmas lunch to cook.

  Next door, Leanne laid the table ready for the most impromptu Christmas lunch any of them had ever known. She managed to make it look festive despite the lack of accessories. It was surprising what you could do with an artistic eye, and just laying the table properly gave it a ceremonial air. The cutlery gleamed and the glasses glittered in the candlelight – luckily they hadn’t run out of tea lights. Lizzy was boiling up mounds of peeled potatoes to make the mash, which would go with both lamb and sausages, and frying up onions for onion gravy. And then there would be a big bowl of peas. That was it.

  ‘This is definitely the way forward.’ Lizzy declared. ‘Normally I’d be juggling chipolatas and sprouts and stuffing balls and having a nervous breakdown.’

  ‘Oh, I love all of it,’ said Leanne. ‘I could spend hours faffing about with decorations.’

  ‘I think the key,’ said Lizzy, ‘is to do the bits you enjoy and sack off the rest. Here, have one of these. Jack made them.’

  She thrust a plate of canapés at her: crostini topped with toasted goat’s cheese and walnuts and drizzled with truffle honey. Leanne took one.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said with her mouth full. ‘These are amazing.’

  ‘He’s a bit of a foodie, I think,’ said Lizzy.

  ‘He seems lovely.’ Leanne took another, avoiding Lizzy’s eye, feeling her cheeks go pink. ‘Thank you for this morning, by the way. I don’t like to think what would have happened if you hadn’t turned up.’

  Lizzy leaned back against the kitchen work surface and helped herself to a crostini.

  ‘Be kind to yourself,’ she said through the crumbs. ‘Don’t beat yourself up for falling for the wrong man.’

  Leanne sighed. ‘I’m a fool. I was completely taken in. I need to dig a bit deeper next time, before I throw myself into it. But it’s tough. At the time, it seemed like the easy option.’

  ‘So what will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know. We need to find somewhere to live, for a start. Which will be really tricky at this time of year. Especially as I don’t have a proper job.’

  ‘Listen,’ said Lizzy. ‘I’m going to talk to Caroline. Ask her if you can stay here while you sort yourself out. I’m sure she’ll say yes. They really only use it in the summer.’

  ‘Would she really?’ Leanne looked amazed.

  ‘I think so.’ Lizzy wasn’t going to go into details, but she was pretty sure her friend would step up when she heard the story. After all, reaching out to help Leanne was the best kind of retribution for the way Tony had treated Caroline all those years ago. Revenge was an ugly motive, but this gesture had a simplicity and a generosity to it that Lizzy was sure Caroline would respond to.

  She wiped her hands on her apron and went to strain the potatoes. The truth was she was anxious to get lunch over and done with. Now she had made her mind up to go home, she wanted to get on the road. It was the first time ever she had woken on Christmas morning without her family and she was missing them. She wondered what they were doing. She knew the food would have arrived, so they wouldn’t be starving. But would they have a clue what to do with the turkey? They’d better cook it properly or they’d get food poisoning …

  She laughed at herself. She had gone back to her default mode. Worrying about them all. But that was what she did. Looked after them. They were her family. She felt a pang that made her stomach swoop with longing. She wanted to see them. Feel them. Listen to the twins’ ridiculous nonsense; feel Simon’s stubble on her cheek; scrumple up all the wrapping paper from their presents and put it in the fireplace.

  She poked her head out of the hut where Jack and Harley were sharing a beer in front of the barbecue.

  ‘How are we doing? Ok if I mash the spuds?’

  Jack gave her a thumbs up. ‘Nearly done. I’ll put the lamb on a plate to rest while the sausages finish.’

  Just before one, they all assembled round the table, River and Nat sitting on piled-up cushions next to each other, already the best of friends. Half a dozen people who barely knew each other. Half a dozen people with their stories and their baggage, their mistakes, their broken dreams, their tragedy, their dilemmas, all stuffed into a little beach hut by the sea. The sun streamed in through the window, lighting up their faces. Jack opened a bottle of champagne and they all raised their glasses in a toast, even the little ones who had been given the tiniest splash.

 
‘Merry Christmas!’

  ‘Merry Christmas!’

  ‘Mewwy Cwithmath!’

  And they all fell upon the food – the platter of pink lamb with the charred edges and the caramelised sausages and the mashed potato that was the consistency of double cream and just fell off the spoon.

  Before he sat down, Jack went outside for a moment, pretending to check the barbecue, but really to take in a deep breath. Christmas was ok. He had survived. More importantly, Nat was having the time of his life: fresh air and seaside and new friends. He could never have predicted that this was the day they were going to have. He’d imagined something quiet and reflective, with just the two of them pottering about and chilling. Not mucking in with this motley crew who were already worming their way into his affections. He went back inside and saw Leanne look over at him, patting the back of the chair next to her. ‘Come and sit down,’ she mouthed over the hubbub. He hesitated for just a moment. He could sense more change on the horizon. Then he watched as she leant over and helped Nat cut up his sausage. He swallowed, then strode across the room and pulled out his chair to sit down.

  Harley watched as Jack leant over and filled his mum’s glass up with wine. Her eyes sparkled their thanks. She looked, he thought, a different person. All the strain had gone from her face, and she was laughing, properly laughing. He felt a profound sense of relief. There would probably be tough times ahead, but it would be just the three of them together, without the malevolent presence of Tony. They would figure it out. He would make sure of it.

  And in the fullness of time, he would tell her his decision: to go and see Richie. He didn’t want to upset her, but it was something he needed to do, if he was going to figure out who to be. The thought of seeing his dad after all this time gave him a strange cocktail of feelings. Uncertainty, excitement, but also a strong sense of looking forward to the future. His dad was out in a couple of years. He wanted him in his life. Not to upset the equilibrium, but to recalibrate it. His dad wasn’t just someone who had made a massive mistake, he was a man who had taken his small son to see Star Wars. It was that man that Harley was going to see.

  At the end of the table, Lizzy looked up at the clock. How soon could she escape? She wanted to do the bulk of the journey before it got dark. She hated leaving all her new friends, but she thought they would be ok without her. Somehow, she felt reassured that Harley and Leanne and River had Jack and Nat next door. Jack would make sure they didn’t go hungry, at the very least.

 

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