by Alex Brown
‘Wow!’ the presenter enthused. ‘He really is an extraordinarily brave dog. And his handler, Edward Clarke, too, who was sadly killed along with two other soldiers. Can you tell us what happened?’
Mack coughed to clear his throat, and after dipping his head momentarily he looked again at the camera, and Kitty could have sworn that he was looking right at her and Teddie when he said, ‘Ed was the bravest, nicest bloke you could ever meet. He always had our backs and he died a hero.’
‘A hero,’ Teddie repeated quietly, engrossed as she listened to Mack. Kitty kissed the top of her head and whispered, ‘That’s right, my love’ into her daughter’s fluffy bed hair.
‘Monty had detected some explosives in an abandoned building,’ Mack continued, ‘and went with Ed to make them safe, but something went wrong as the next thing me and the lads knew was that Ed and Monty were running towards us with Ed shouting for us all to get clear too. We did, but by this time there were explosives going off all around us, because the building wasn’t abandoned, you see − it was an ambush. We could see women and children on the second floor and there was no way we could leave them, so Ed turned back. We all did, managing to get the civilians to safety, but not all of us made it.’ Mack fell silent and the army guy to his left took over, explaining how dogs in the field were rehabilitated when they got back home – the ones that made it.
Kitty switched off the telly as soon as the presenter wrapped up that section of the news and turned to Teddie, who was beaming up at her.
‘Are you OK, sweetheart?’ she asked tentatively, wondering with hindsight if she should have let Teddie watch at all, but it had all happened so quickly.
‘Yes. My daddy is a hero. He saved the people, that’s why he went to Heaven.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Kitty said resolutely. And then it dawned on her. No tears. For the first time, she didn’t feel sad talking about Ed. Her hero. And she was pleased that the whole world would get to hear about his bravery. She felt proud of Monty, too, and vowed to see if there was a way that she could bring him home for good. And as for Mack … Kitty realised that she couldn’t wait to see him.
Chapter Nine
The whole village, or so it seemed, had turned out for this evening’s carol concert on the village green. The giant Christmas tree near the duck pond was twinkling like a beacon to welcome everyone, and Cher, the landlady of the Duck & Puddle, was handing out plastic cups of mulled wine to all the adults as they went past. Children and dogs were scooting around all over the place making the now six-inch-deep snow flurry up and around like a giant snow globe.
Kitty sighed at the beautiful sight in front of her before tugging her crimson woollen scarf up higher to cover her frozen chin. She grinned as Taylor came trudging through the snow towards them with Monty, chest-deep, trotting alongside.
‘Monty!’ Teddie squealed, and then giggled as she knelt down in the snow, encouraging him to lick her face.
‘Oh, darling, I’m not sure that’s a brilliant idea,’ Kitty started, but then wondered if it really mattered: it was nearly Christmas after all. Teddie was happy, she was happy, and Mack had said he was hoping to be able to visit soon, so life felt pretty rosy right now. She decided to relax. In the unlikely event that Teddie caught some kind of infection from letting the Labrador lick her face after cleaning his own bottom, then they’d deal with it. They’d come through so much in the last four years that Kitty felt quite invincible. She turned to Taylor. ‘Thanks so much for bringing Monty along.’
‘No problem. He’s a superstar now! A special dog. Are you sure you want him back? Maybe I should keep him!’ She laughed and then added, on seeing little Teddie’s crestfallen face, ‘Only joking.’
‘We’re going to build it up, walk him lots and see how it goes, aren’t we, Teddie?’ Kitty smiled, ruffling her daughter’s hair, then mouthed to Taylor, ‘Thank you! Are you sure it’s OK?’
‘Absolutely. There’s no rush, better to be sure, and the rescue centre’s definitely happening now that we have enough money, so Mum’s much more chilled knowing all the pets will have a lovely new home in the barn and she’ll get her sofa back.’ Taylor laughed, and they all started walking towards the crowd.
‘Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la. ’Tis the season to be jolly …’ The Tindledale choir were in fine voice, accompanied by the village’s brass band, when Kitty, Taylor, Teddie and Monty made it to the main event. Dan, the chef, had his food truck nearby and was doing special hog-roast baps smothered in apple sauce from April’s orchards. Molly from the butcher’s in the High Street was cooking up a storm with her honey-and-mustard-coated mini-sausages on cocktail sticks, and the air was infused with the delicious scent of comfort food and Christmas cheer.
‘Can we go outside please, Mummy?’ Teddie asked through a mouthful of sausage, half of which she had fed to Monty, who was licking his lips and giving her a doleful look from his one good eye, eager for more of the tasty treat.
‘Sure, come on, let’s go and play in the snow.’ Kitty smiled and took Teddie’s hand.
Outside the marquee, a group of children from the village school were making and throwing snowballs over near the trees, which had a trillion little lanterns with tea lights inside hanging from their branches. It was magical and Kitty had an urge to join in the fun. After making a massive snowball each, Teddie and Kitty started throwing them at each other and within seconds Taylor had joined in too. Monty was doing his best to keep up with them all, his retriever instinct in overdrive as he hurtled towards every snowball that Kitty, Taylor or Teddie threw in the hope of bringing it back to them. But even a superstar hero dog like Monty couldn’t contend with the forces of nature when the snowballs disintegrated on landing.
Some of the older children were now throwing snowballs up in the air to see who could hit the top of a tree first. Kitty, feeling like a big schoolkid herself, started gathering up as big a ball as she could muster. Soon it was the size of a football, and Taylor added another big lump of snow to it before Kitty lifted the giant lump in both hands and hurled it as high as she could towards the nearest tree.
‘Wahey!’ Taylor yelled, and the crowd erupted too when a near avalanche of snow plummeted down from the top of the tallest tree. ‘Amazing. Did you see that, Teddie? Your mummy is a snowball queen.’ Taylor swivelled around intending to high-five Teddie, but she wasn’t there.
‘Teddie?’ Kitty realised too. ‘Teddie! Teddie where are you?’
‘She’s stuck in the snow,’ a teenage boy bellowed from over near by the tallest tree.
‘Oh, my God. No!’ Kitty panicked and immediately ran towards where the huge pile of snow had landed. A group of about six people were already there, scrabbling with their hands in an attempt to get to her, but it was no use.
‘There’s a small ditch here. Maybe the weight of the snow has forced her down in to it. We need shovels,’ one of the men said urgently.
‘Please. Please get her out.’ Tears poured down Kitty’s face as she dropped to her knees and joined in the desperate search, flinging off her gloves and clawing at the snow. But it was no use. Taylor threw her arms around Kitty’s shoulders before dropping to her knees too and joining in.
‘She’s going to be fine. We’ll get her out,’ Taylor said firmly, squeezing Kitty’s ice-cold bare hands with her own as she pointed to the group with shovels that had miraculously appeared in seconds from nearby back gardens. Digging like demons, they quickly moved a mound of snow aside, but Kitty still couldn’t see Teddie. It all seemed to be taking forever, though Kitty knew it had been only moments. Then to her left she spotted Monty, who had homed in on a certain spot a few centimetres to the left of the tree. Digging with his paws, the dog swiftly burrowed down into the snow. The group followed his lead and shovelled the excess snow away until Teddie’s little red wellies could be seen poking out of a ditch. Monty was straight in and tugging at the corner of her coat as if to pull her out of the ditch.
Kitty dashed forward as a m
an appeared just in the nick of time and with his back to her, and, in one swift movement, he had Teddie standing upright.
‘Mummy!’ Teddie spluttered, pushing snow from her hair as Monty smothered her with licks and happy snuffles.
‘I’m here!’ Tears of relief coursed down Kitty’s cheeks. ‘Are you OK, sweetheart?’
‘Yes, Mummy.’
The man turned towards her, and Kitty gasped as she swooped Teddie up into a cuddle.
Mack was actually standing right in front of her with a massive grin on his face.
‘Mack!’ Teddie yelled, giving him a curious up-and-down look as if working out what was different. And then she got it: ‘Where’s your chair with the wheels on?’
‘I don’t need it so much now,’ Mack laughed, glancing down at his lower half and holding out his arms to show off his new legs.
‘Can I see?’ Teddie wriggled free from Kitty’s hug and did her usual scrutinising stance with hands on her knees to get a better look at Mack’s jeans-clad legs with trainers at his feet.
‘Wow! You did it, you got back on your feet.’ Kitty couldn’t believe it, and in her shock and relief at Teddie being OK, and delight at seeing Mack here and walking, she threw her arms around him.
‘I sure did.’ Mack reciprocated and pulled her into his chest, their eyes meeting momentarily as a silent understanding passed between them.
‘Kiss! Kiss!’ Teddie was bouncing up and down right in front of them now, eagerly pulling a sprig of mistletoe out of her coat pocket to hold up in the air.
Kitty and Mack pulled apart to look at each other again.
‘I’m up for it if you are.’ Mack grinned in his usual laid-back way, and, the second Kitty opened her mouth to reply, he kissed her, even flipping her backwards in an embrace with one hand on the centre of her back, the other hand behind her head, just like they do in the movies, and much to Teddie’s delight. She let out a big gasp before throwing the mistletoe up towards their heads, then giving Monty an enormous squeeze.
When Mack let her go, Kitty felt her face flush with adrenalin and exhilaration as she turned to fling Teddie up into the air, then drew her in for another cuddle.
‘You’re a cheeky monkey. And where did you get mistletoe from?’ Kitty kissed her daughter’s cheek.
‘I found it in the snow, Mummy,’ Teddie giggled and swivelled her face towards Mack, who was standing close to them with Monty at his feet looking up − his tail swaying, mouth open and velvety red tongue hanging out, making the cold air mist all around his glossy, black Labrador face. After composing herself, and with a very serious look on her little face, Teddie announced, ‘My daddy is looking after your old legs in Heaven.’ Kitty went to speak, but caught Mack’s eye instead, as he nodded and replied.
‘That’s right. And he’s doing an excellent job too.’
‘So you can look after Mummy!’ Teddie nodded firmly, and they all laughed; even Monty was extra sprightly, wriggling his body from side to side as they made their way back along Tindledale High Street. The carol singers were now congregated in the village square, forming a circle around Ed’s column candle, and singing a very hearty rendition of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’.
EPILOGUE
Christmas Eve
As silent snowflakes tumbled down outside the window, Kitty and Mack stood on the landing outside Teddie’s bedroom and watched through the crack in the door, which was slightly ajar, as she sang herself to sleep.
‘Ah, she’s such a wee pet,’ Mack whispered so as not to disturb Teddie. ‘And you’re an amazing mum.’ He put his arm around Kitty and pulled her into him. ‘Thank you for putting me up.’
‘Well, you could hardly have travelled home, not when the whole of Tindledale has been completely snowed in since the night of the carol concert.’ But Kitty knew it was much more than that. Having Mack to stay had made her realise that she had spent the years since Ed’s death in a kind of limbo, mourning his loss; happy sometimes, but never quite properly moving on. She had really enjoyed those phone conversations with Mack, which had now turned into evenings together, curled up on the sofa watching all their favourite Christmas films – it had been right in the middle of It’s a Wonderful Life when Mack had gently touched her chin to turn her face towards his and whispered, ‘So what do you say to you and me going on a proper date?’ And she had grinned and searched his conker-brown eyes as she nodded and replied.
‘Sure, what kind of date did you have in mind?’
‘Oh, well, I’m not sure,’ he had said in his usual easygoing way, but with a slight look of panic spreading across his face. ‘To be honest, I hadn’t got that far. I wasn’t even getting my hopes up. You know … I didn’t want to assume anything and I’m not angling to be upgraded to your bedroom or anything. No, I’m perfectly fine here on the sofa.’ And they had both laughed at his floundering, before kissing – a proper tender kiss this time. Kitty’s heart had fluttered like a little bird on having its cage opened, tentatively, until it became more sure, and then soared, full of wonderment at all the new possibilities the moment presented.
Resting her head on Mack’s shoulder, she let out a small sigh and stroked the back of his hand, pondering on how different this Christmas was going to be with the five of them. Yes, five! She just couldn’t have separated Monty from his friend, timid Lexie, who wasn’t actually very timid at all any more, having taken to snuggling up on the end of Teddie’s bed, even though she knew she wasn’t really allowed on there. Not when she had a perfectly plump bed of her own next to Monty’s. But his bed was empty too.
Kitty shook her head and smiled to herself as she spotted Monty’s velvety black head resting in among a pile of soft toys right next to Teddie’s pillow, his one good eye keeping watch as he guarded his precious charge. Since coming home for Christmas and for ever more, Monty had been glued to Teddie’s side, as if he knew that Ed had sent him to look out for his little girl. Kitty looked sideways at Mack, still marvelling at how he was walking on his prosthetic legs just like a pro, and wondered momentarily if perhaps Ed had sent him too, to look out for her …
‘What is it?’ Mack mouthed, turning to face her, lifting a lock of blonde hair from her face.
‘Nothing. I was just daydreaming.’ She grinned. Mack stepped closer and, as his lips found hers and that same soaring sensation started all over again, she knew that way of being in limbo before was most definitely over. Right here, right now, that was what mattered. She opened her eyes briefly and glanced through the tiny mullioned window over at the village square to see Ed’s candle flickering in the distance, as if winking at her, his forget-me-not-blue eyes twinkling and crinkling at the corners just as they always did, telling her it was all right. Ed had said in his final letter that he hoped she would meet someone decent, find love with someone new, and, even though it was very early days, Kitty had a lovely, cosy, warm feeling that being with Mack really was going to be … not just for Christmas.
THE END
Merry Christmas, everyone xxxx
Read on for another festive treat from Tindledale! Enjoy an extract from The Great Christmas Knit Off by Alex Brown
Prologue
Hettie Honey picked up a lovely lavender lace weight that a customer had abandoned by the till after pondering for what seemed like an eternity that, actually, it wasn’t the right shade of lavender after all. She then walked across the shop floor of her House of Haberdashery to repatriate the ball into its rightful place – a wooden, floor-to-ceiling cabinet comprising twenty-four cubbyholes inset over three shelves crammed with every colour, ply, and type of yarn imaginable. Hettie smiled wryly, remembering the programme she had listened to on the radio not so long ago. Knitting! It was all the rage nowadays and she hoped it would finally catch on in Tindledale, her beloved picture-postcard village and Hettie’s home for the eighty-three years of her life to date. She ran the timber-framed, double-fronted shop adjacent to the wisteria-clad roundel of the oast house her father had built before s
he was even born.
Hettie lifted the tray on which sat the last remnants of her afternoon tea; a cheese sandwich minus the crusts because her teeth weren’t as strong as they used to be plus a pot of tea and a pink iced finger that had only cost ten pence on account of being past its best. Kitty, in the tearoom up on the High Street, had tried to give her the bun for free, but Hettie hated taking charity, especially when she felt there were other people in far more need. Hettie moved to the back of the shop, swept the curtain aside and went through to the little kitchenette area. Years ago this had been her mother’s sewing room, and the wooden Singer machine with its rickety foot pedal still lived there, with a multitude of multi-coloured bobbins all piled up high on the shelf behind it.
After placing the tray on the draining board next to the age-veined Belfast sink and carefully wrapping the crusts in clingfilm to dunk into her warming home-made soup the following afternoon, Hettie picked up the picture frame on the mantelpiece above the fire and ran a finger over the faded black-and-white autographed photo. She allowed herself an enormous sigh. She wasn’t usually one for self-pity or hand wringing, but another one of the letters had come this morning, with FINAL DEMAND stamped across the top in ugly red type. Business had been so slow these past couple of years, and now, with her dwindling savings and pittance of a pension, she had come to realise that it was going to take a darn miracle this Christmas for Hettie’s House of Haberdashery to remain afloat come the new year.
