by J Wells
“I didn’t even get to try the main course; I might run over and see if there’s anything left, a bit of quiche or something.”
We exchange smiles.
“Would you like me to grab you a plate of something?” she asks.
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
As she walks past, she leaves me with a waft of her floral perfume and Josh. He looks like he’s waiting for me to say something. I fidget on my chair.
“Oh, I just wanted to thank you for adding me as a friend on Facebook.”
I raise an eyebrow. Is that all he can find to talk about? Not knowing what to do with myself, I rub my hands up and down my arms.
“I changed my name; how did you find me?”
“Come on, Tash, give me some credit. We have over three hundred and fifty mutual friends, so it really wasn’t that difficult. Natasha Cartwright … using Danielle’s surname, surely you could have thought of something a little more original?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Obviously not.”
“If you don’t mind me asking … why brown all of a sudden?”
I screw up my face, not understanding. Then I see him gazing at my wig.
“Oh, you’re talking about this?” I say, twizzling my hair. “I felt like a change.”
“I never had the courage to dye my naturally blonde locks, but I saw the wig online and it caught my eye.”
His eyes crease at the corners as he smiles.
“Dark hair suits you…”
He reaches towards me, and with only the briefest touch his finger strokes my cheek. I don’t pull away and find myself smiling back at him; it’s almost like a sense of finality to those ten years we spent together and a touch of reminiscence.
“Anyway…” He coughs, clearing his throat. “Suppose I’d best go and join Michelle before all the profiteroles are eaten.”
I’m back on my own, people watching. Holding a plate of chocolate gateaux, Angela walks over to join Josh and his family. Handing the plate to Josh, she swiftly lifts Savannah from Michelle’s arms, and her little fingers get knotted in her mum’s hair. Laughing, Angela takes her hand and untangles the dark strands from the infant’s grasp.
I’m pretty good at reading body language, so I continue to stare. My gaze turns to Josh and I laugh to myself. His eyes are settled very nicely on a blonde-haired waitress who clearly can’t see what I can, her tunic pulled tight across her chest as she bends quite innocently refilling a bowl of fresh fruit. With her back towards him, Michelle’s lost in conversation with his mum.
“How crafty you are,” I mutter to myself. Maybe I was too close to see what was under my nose the entire time.
My eyes make a detour to Danielle, who’s sitting at the table feeding Logan. She has a small spoon in one hand and Adrianna’s hand clasped in the other. I always thought once a cheat, always a cheat, but looking at my sister-in-law I can’t help thinking that some people can change. My eyes make their way back to Josh, and I see that he is still fixated on the waitress. Clearly some leopards will never change their spots.
I peer at the food that’s left on the table; it’s odd feeling full while I watch everyone else around me eat. I glance up when I hear the DJ announce the first dance, calling for the happy couple to make their way to the dance floor. I get up off my chair and make my way to the library, grabbing a fortune cookie from a glass bowl as I pass.
The chairs around the edge of the room are filling up fast, so rather than struggle to find one, I lean against the curve of one of the bookcases. Danielle and Adrianna are wrapped around each other, circling very slowly to Aerosmith’s ‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’. Every now and then Danielle’s hand shifts from the small of Adrianna’s back to her arse, and just as quickly Adrianna slaps it away.
Logan seems to have lost his red dicky bow and jacket, and is on all fours crawling round the wooden floor, chasing the DJs multi-coloured lights. One minute I see him, the next he’s disappeared under the many underskirts of Adrianna’s gown. Danielle crouches down and manages to grab him beneath his arms. He pouts and protests initially, but once he is sandwiched between them there’s a cheeky grin on his face again as they continue their dance.
A hand begins to nudge its way between the bookcase and my lower back. I glance to my left. Seeing Gabriel, I step forward and he loops his arms around my shoulders.
“Where have you been? Out for a crafty fag?”
He shakes his head. “You’ve got to be joking; I gave up that dirty habit months ago. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I am, I was just beginning to wonder if you’d gone home.”
“As if. I took the picture up to our room, sat on the bed for five minutes and fell asleep.”
I glance down at my watch.
“You’ve been over an hour!”
“Must be the four-poster bed, it was so comfy.”
I grin to myself, seeing his red mottled cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
I find myself clapping with everyone else as the first dance comes to an end. The tempo changes and the dance floor fills. Edna’s doing some odd kind of jive with Boris, an uncle of Dad’s who lives in Scotland. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him since I was a kid. I watch a group of old biddies in the corner jigging up and down in a circle around their handbags.
Hughie’s shouting out to the DJ to play some sixties number. He’s anything but a gregarious man, yet his arms are hung around Angela as they stand swaying back and forth.
“I didn’t tell you, did I?” I say, nudging Gabriel’s side. “Angela’s asked if we’d like to extend our stay here.”
“What, by an extra couple of days?”
“No, she’s asked if we’d like to stay over the Christmas holiday. I’ve told her yes, so I hope it’s okay with you.”
He glances down at me, straight-faced.
“Looks like it’ll have to be.”
I frown.
“I’m just kidding; I don’t care where I am as long as I’m with you.”
His words make me feel warm and complete inside. Everyone’s laughing and dancing, seemingly so happy. I blink as if taking a picture in my mind while I can still enjoy a little happiness myself. It’s not that I begrudge my friends and family, I don’t. I glance up at Gabriel, who’s mouthing the words to Black Box’s ‘Ride on Time’. When he looks down I force a smile. It just feels so unfair that my life is to be so short-lived.
Unable to hold eye contact any longer, I blink and look away. Most people are up on their feet dancing, and I notice only a handful of chairs still occupied, most of them by Danielle’s French relatives. We were introduced earlier, though most were not fluent in English, so when I did say hello all I got back was smiles, a few nods and the odd broken sentence.
Clement, Danielle’s grandfather, is standing rather unsteadily behind his wife Renee’s chair. His face shows his age by its network of deep lines and wrinkles; the old chap has what I’d say is a well-lived-in face, yet from the soft expression he wears as he gazes down at her I surmise that his life has been a particularly happy one. Bending slightly, he slips a cream knitted cardigan from the back of her chair and places it around her small, frail shoulders. My mind’s transported back to Regent’s Park, and then I think of Nan and Granddad. Those small gestures, no matter how insignificant, seem to have so much meaning behind them.
I can feel myself stiffen in Gabriel’s arms. He squeezes my shoulder.
“Are you finding this all too much? Shall we grab a seat?”
I breathe heavily. “No, I don’t need a seat, I need some air. I need to get out of here.”
I don’t wait for his response and pull myself out of his arms. Leaving him standing there, I make my way through the sitting room, into the hall and out of the front door. I don’t turn to see if he’s behind me but just keep walking. I walk around the hall’s perimeter, and hearing the music coming from inside I lean back against the cold stone wall. Shivering, I rub my arms and stare up at the clear night sky
, then frown at the fortune cookie I still have clenched in my hand.
“What’s the point?” I mutter, and stretching my arm as far as I can I throw it into the darkness.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Gabriel whips off his jacket and tosses it at me. “Put this on before you catch your death.”
Wrapping myself in the warm material, I turn away so I don’t have to look at him. The stones beneath his feet crunch as he walks back into my line of sight.
“Out with it, Natasha, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I blurt out.
He steps closer.
“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”
“I’m never going to be that little old lady, am I?” I whisper. “When I was a girl, Adrianna and I used to stop over at my nan and granddad’s some weekends. Adrianna was always in a rush to get downstairs and for Granddad to cook her breakfast, whereas I used to follow Nan round while she tidied up the rooms and made her bed. She folded her nightgown and laid it on her pillow with such precision. She had two very special teddies, well Scottie dogs actually; she placed one on her side of the bed and the other on my granddad’s side, always making sure their noses touched. If for any reason Granddad got up after Nan and he was the one to make the bed, her nightgown was stuffed under her pillow and the sweet little Scotties were thrown on the bedcover any old how…”
“Is there a point to this conversation?”
“Every morning after Nan passed away, Granddad made the bed exactly as she had done, with everything in its place. Without fail those little white Scottie dogs sat with their noses touching, and her nightgown was folded and laid on her pillow as if she had done it with her own hands. My point is, when I’m no longer here, who’s going to remember where I used to lie each one of my little teddies when I got out of bed each morning?” I shake my head, looking down at my feet. “The truth is, no one…”
He frowns as I kick at the loose stones.
“It doesn’t matter, just hold me.”
He grabs my hands and pulls me into him, leaving my face to rest against his soft cotton shirt. The windows are misted by condensation so neither of us can see in, but it doesn’t take away the soft beat of music playing in the background. Gabriel shuffles and then sways from side to side, and I find myself swaying too.
“You know what?” He reaches down and lifts my chin. “You look even more beautiful under the stars.”
I grin. “That’s because you can’t see me as well in the dark.”
He laughs. “You wouldn’t understand, you don’t paint. I don’t see just your face, I see the way the silvery light falls and bounces off it, the subtle way it highlights your cheekbones and in a split second can change the depth and total appearance of your features.”
I step back, giving him a playful punch to his chest.
“Gabriel, you’re talking bullshit.”
He kisses the top of my head, and his arms tighten around me.
“Maybe, but it’s cheered you up.” He places his finger over my lips. “So why not shut up, enjoy the moment and dance with me?”
The afternoon sun lies low in the sky, but on a positive note, there’s not a cloud to be seen. I’m lying on the bed, glancing out of the sash window where the heavy blue velvet curtains have been pulled aside. I spot a solitary robin that’s settled on my window sill, and I watch as it pecks with intent at the wooden frame. Then in an instant it has flown away and I’m left alone.
Christmas Eve has come round so fast. I can’t fault Angela and Hughie’s kindness, letting me and my family stay here over Christmas. It’s unfortunate that Mum had plans of her own, or so she said, but I’m sure it’s just another one of her excuses to drink away reality.
All the cards have been posted, the presents have been wrapped, everyone’s getting into the spirit of things and here I am, lying flat on my back like I have been for the last seven days. The four-poster bed is certainly comfy and there’s no denying the Tulip room is grand, but I can think of far better places I’d rather be. If only I’d listened and taken Gabriel’s advice, but while Danielle and Adrianna danced the night away, I insisted on spending the majority of their wedding night standing outside in the cold, hence why I’m now confined to bed with a chill.
I must have stared at these walls and furniture for so long I know every inch of them. I glance at the oak dresser and begin counting my Christmas cards. My eyes stop at the fourth one along, which shows a massive snowman with two large balls, and the words Ho! Ho! Ho! in red glitter across the top. I’m think it’s the musical card Josh slipped into my hand as he and Michelle left after paying me an unexpected visit a couple of days ago to say their goodbyes, as they were flying back to the States for the holidays. Gabriel must have taken them aside and had a word with them before he brought them upstairs, as they kept nagging me to have another course of chemo. After they left, I lay quietly in thought. I think this was the first time I’d actually listened to anybody and started to reconsider my options. Would one more course of treatment really be much worse than the way I’m feeling now? Somehow I don’t think so, but the decision I make will be my own.
I jump as the bedroom door flies open. Gabriel bends down to get through without bumping his head on the frame, and beams at me. Logan’s legs are wrapped around his neck, and he’s giggling while flicking his fingers at Gabriel’s ears. Adrianna is next to enter, her arms wrapped round a red ceramic pot. I frown when I see the overly large smile she wears, and then see why. Dad comes up behind her, carrying a rather pathetic-looking fir tree wedged under his right arm. As he enters, I catch sight of Danielle not far behind, holding onto the tree’s dark stubby trunk.
Staring at them, I push myself up on the mattress with my hands.
“And what’s all this in aid of?”
“Well, if you won’t come downstairs for Christmas, then Christmas will have to come upstairs to you, won’t it?” Adrianna pipes up.
Dropping Logan to his feet, Gabriel heads back onto the landing to retrieve a plastic box overflowing with so many decorations that I can hardly see his face. He’s trying so hard to make Christmas extra special for me. The next moment Gabriel is perched on the dressing table, and I watch as he jumps from one chair to the next, tacking silver tinsel like chains around all four walls. With his legs stretched wide between two chairs I can’t help but take a quick peek, but it soon turns into a long stare as I notice how his stonewashed jeans hug the creases just below his ass.
The floor creaks and my eyes shoot towards Adrianna’s knowing grin. The cheeky mare has the audacity to give me the thumbs up. Smirking, I roll my eyes and shake my head. I watch her as she walks towards the large oak wardrobe and places down the gilt-framed photo of Mr Pooch and the Monet-inspired portrait of me wandering between poppies. She bends over, sticking her arse in the air as high as she possibly can, and shakes it. Adrianna snorts as she leans the portraits back against the wardrobe doors.
“Hang on, Adrianna,” Gabriel calls.
Jumping down off the chair, he marches in front of her and announces that he’s going down to his car to fetch a hammer and a couple of nails. I guess his intention is to knock both frames into the wall. Adrianna and Danielle stand in the corner of the room tittering, egging him on; to be honest I think it’s them who put him up to it.
Dad calls over, waving his hand. “Don’t you dare.”
Somehow I don’t imagine Angela and Hughie would have been too impressed to find we’d knocked holes into the walls of their stately home.
I can’t help but smile, seeing them arguing between themselves yet trying to do everything possible to make this Christmas as perfect as they can. I don’t say a lot but lie back and watch them work, all except Logan, who crawls up onto the bed to join me. I pull him towards me and roll him up inside the quilt.
“Bloody hell, what have you done to the bab? He gave up his afternoon naps months ago.”
“Blame Gabriel; it must be over an hour and half he h
ad the little man running around the adventure playground,” Danielle calls out as she adds soil to the pot and positions my own little Christmas tree inside, then proceeds to pull shimmery silver baubles out of a small cardboard box.
I can’t help noticing Dad’s hand holding onto Gabriel’s shoulder and the smiles that pass between them. In the next moment Adrianna bites the head off one of the chocolate Santas and launches it at Gabriel’s head. He ducks and it shoots past, landing out of sight between the wall and dressing table.
“Over a year ago, maybe…” Gabriel smiles, squaring up to Adrianna. “I’m not blind, I can see, probably better than you,” he jokes, prodding her side.
The jokes are short-lived as Dad begins to get in a flap. He and Danielle are trying to pull the dressing table away from the wall before the chocolate melts onto the carpet, but it’s far too heavy and won’t move. Gabriel turns to offer a helping hand, while Adrianna seizes the moment and grabs another chocolate Santa from the small net bag. She doesn’t unwrap it, but throws it at Gabriel; it bounces off his head.
He spins round to face her.
“Nice one, but I hope you can run,” he hollers, grabbing the net bag filled with chocolate Santas.
She squeals, and Logan murmurs in his sleep as she runs out of the bedroom, Gabriel close on her heels.
“Bunch of muppets, the lot of you,” I chuckle.
“Muppets maybe, but we’re your muppets,” Danielle titters.
Initially I frown, though thinking about it, it’s kind of nice. It’s Christmas, we’re all together, mucking around as we do, and for the first time in a long while I feel like we’re a complete family. The only nagging feeling I can’t seem to shake off is that Mum isn’t here to see us.
I yawn and slide further down the bed.
“Is this going to take long? I’m kind of tired; in fact I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
It’s as though the small amount of energy I had has been sucked away in the last few minutes.
“In that case,” Dad says, popping his head up from behind the dressing table, “shut your eyes like Logan. By the time you wake up, we’ll be done here.”
