A Christmas Wedding in the Cotswolds

by Lucy Coleman

  The soundtrack kicks in on cue, as Ethel get things started, and this year Gray has recorded some magical-sounding riffs. A soft tinkling gradually gets louder and louder, until suddenly Jade appears in her fairy costume waving a magic wand.

  ‘Hello, everyone. Are we ready to have some fun?’ Heads turn as the children follow her every movement. She looks like a ballerina in her pale blue dress with a long, chiffon skirt and pale blue satin slippers. Her wings are just big enough to poke up above her shoulders an inch or two, and on her head is a twinkling tiara. But it’s her magic wand as she waves it gently back and forth that fascinates them all.

  Making her way along the gangway, she walks around the edge of the rug to join me. ‘This is Jade, and she’s come to sprinkle a little fairy dust around for us today—’

  ‘Hush!’ Gray puts a finger to his closed lips, looking wide-eyed at his excited audience. ‘I heard a noise up on deck.’

  The silence is immediate as everyone stops talking to hold their breath and listen. Suddenly there’s a sharp rap on the door, which prompts a little chorus of excited shrieks.

  Gray waits a moment or two longer, until the backing track changes and suddenly the cabin is filled with the sound of sleigh bells jingling. A few moments later, he swings open the double doors, letting in a blast of chilly air. Santa looms up, stooping as he steps inside and letting out a jolly, ‘Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas, everyone!’

  One of the littlest ones throws her hands up to her cheeks, her jaw dropping as she stares in wonderment. Tollie makes the most amazing Santa, even though it’s mostly padding. His naturally white moustache and beard, topped off by a very realistic curly white wig, is the image I remember from my own childhood. Rosy-cheeked and with an expression of pure joy on his face, he doesn’t just look good, he looks real.

  ‘I’m thrilled you could all come to see me today. And how colourful you look. We have jumpers with snowflakes on them and even one with my face on it! What’s your name?’ Tollie asks, indicating for the little boy to stand up and show everyone.

  ‘Toby, Santa. And my grandma knitted this jumper.’

  Bless him, he’s probably four years old, at most, and his eyes are shining.

  ‘Well, tell your grandma from me that Santa says she did an amazing job, will you?’ His baritone voice is both gentle and jovial as the little boy sits down, crossing his legs, his face the picture of happiness.

  ‘My chief elf, Immi, will be writing down your requests ready to take back to the North Pole,’ Santa informs them. ‘And her helpers, Jude and Jade, are here to make sure everyone has a really good time. Shall we ask Captain Gray to up anchor and cast off?’

  Everyone is still, following Santa’s gaze at he looks towards the doors and Gray, who is standing in front of them. There’s a little excited chatter until Gray cups his hand around his right ear. ‘Did you hear that?’ he asks in a semi-hushed tone, stabbing his index finger up towards the cabin-top. Everyone falls silent once more. Something scrapes along the top of the cabin, followed by a succession of hollow tapping sounds, and eyes open wide in wonderment. Jade and Jude are now on the mat alongside the children, egging them on.

  ‘Do you think it’s Rudolph and the sleigh?’ Jude asks, and the children’s eyes widen even further in anticipation.

  Santa claps his hands. ‘I wondered when my friend Rudolph would arrive with the presents. Captain Gray, can you do the honours, please?’

  Gray swings open the doors to the cabin once more and Abe, dressed in his Christmas pudding onesie, with a knitted green hat and a large sprig of holly on the top, waves at the children, before handing Gray the first sack.

  ‘Sorry we’re late, Santa. It’s a long journey and we had to stop for a snack, as the reindeers were hungry. Rudolph sends his apologies. Hi, girls and boys.’

  There’s a chorus of ‘Hi’ back as Gray lifts the sacks over the children’s heads to stack them alongside Santa’s bench seat. We’re full to capacity and there isn’t an inch spare, but no one’s complaining.

  ‘Right, it’s time to get under way,’ Gray declares as he disappears out of view.

  I change the backing track to fill in the time it takes for Abe to pull up the anchor and cast off, while Gray heads out to take up his position at the tiller.

  Jude and Jade hand out printed lyric sheets and glow sticks to the parents and children, as the first of the Christmas songs begins to play.

  ‘Who’s going to sing along?’ I ask.

  Hands fly up into the air as the opening strains of ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ fill the air.

  There’s a lot of arm waving, much wriggling about and – most importantly of all – a sea of smiling faces. The drone as the engine kicks into life signals the start of our little forty-minute cruise up past the marina to the junction and back.

  I leave Jade doing a wonderful job of taking the children up to talk to Santa one at a time, to share what’s on their Christmas wish list. Jude, wearing her serious face, diligently makes notes on my special clipboard.

  Tollie is doing what he does best and it warms my heart. Our real-life Father Christmas jokes and laughs out loud in genuine merriment. He’s just a big kid at heart and his rotund belly jiggles as if it really is a part of him. He was made for this role and the kids and adults alike are enthralled – and not a single electronic device in sight! Even the parents have switched off their phones and are content to sit back and enjoy the trip.

  Ethel and I begin handing out the snack boxes and I wish Mum were here, rather than heading to The Bullrush to help Rona do some waitressing while the girls take part. At least she has her two feet planted very firmly on solid ground, but she’s missing out on the fun and I know she’d love this. I hope Mum uses that number I texted her, as anything is worth a shot. The atmosphere on board is magical and we didn’t need fairy dust to make that happen. It just bubbled up naturally in the hearts of each and every child here. As adults we’re transported back to our own childhoods and, hopefully, golden memories of equally wonderful moments.

  December

  25

  Trimming the Tree and Dressing Up

  I survey the pile of boxes Gray and I just carried down from the attic. Then I look across at the naked blue spruce tree standing in the centre of the glass doors which look out over the patio to the rear of the cottage.

  ‘Are you sure you have the energy to trim up tonight?’ he asks, and I can tell that he’s half hoping I’ll say no.

  ‘Gray! It’s the sixth of December already and we’re getting married on the twenty-second. With the next two weekends taken up with cruises, unless you expect me to do it all myself while you’re in London, this is it. I want it to look special, because this is the one Christmas we can lock ourselves away, and it will be just you and me. Besides, I have way more decorations than you, and we need to whittle them down.’

  I find myself staring longingly at the fireplace, which looks like a sad gaping hole.

  ‘You want me to light it again, don’t you?’

  Even Bert the stag, standing on guard, looks a little dismayed. ‘I do and he needs some holly, or something,’ I say, pointing in Bert’s direction.

  We bought a plush rug to place in front of the hearth and the last couple of Friday evenings we’ve scattered the cushions around, to lie in front of it and watch the flames. With the new open-plan layout, it’s not quite the same cosy setting as when the sitting room was separate and Grandma and Tollie would sit in their armchairs either side of the fire. But it’s festive and the glow and warmth of the flames cheer a dark winter’s evening.

  ‘I’ll turn off the heating and you do the honours. Then we’ll make a start.’

  When I return to the room Gray is already on his hands and knees. Lighting fires is an art and he’s getting better at it, but it’s still a bit hit and miss at times.

  I begin opening the boxes and think back to last year. I remember only too well how the pressure was on. Our closest family and friends
were coming to The Retreat for a Christmas dinner that doubled as our engagement party. Hanging fresh bunches of greenery from the large oak beams and having a floor-to-ceiling Christmas tree made it special but I’m a little at a loss about what will look right in here. The furniture is still rather sparse, as, although Gray has had the upfront payment for his current project, we used a part of it to pay off the overdraft.

  As I ponder the best way to decorate this large space, I realise I may still be in shock after the way Gray surprised me yesterday, without any forewarning whatsoever. He suddenly appeared with my coat in his arms, saying we had an appointment and we needed to hurry. We were still dressed in our Santa Ahoy costumes, and he whisked me off to see our parish vicar, Mr Golding, and a solicitor, to swear an oath and sign an affidavit. My dream of getting married in Aysbury’s little parish church, St James’s, is going to come true!

  ‘How did you know you could apply for a special licence at such short notice?’ I’d asked, looking at Gray questioningly. He’d turned to grin at me.

  ‘I didn’t. I was talking to Val, saying that it didn’t feel right having the ceremony at the village hall. She felt the same way, so she rang the vicar. Mr Golding confirmed that the banns need to be read over three consecutive Sundays and we only have two left, but when she told him that your heart wasn’t really in the civil ceremony, he asked to talk to me. He explained the process, and I think you must have a fan there, Immi, because he really did make it all happen. Val and Mum sent our guests a little note to make them aware of the change of venue and the whole thing turned out to be a lot simpler than either your mum, or I, imagined.’

  It made me realise that I’m not the only one who’s a bit of a traditionalist, and that Gray feels the exact same way. He heads over to stand behind me, wrapping me in his arms, and I stop what I’m doing as he peers inside the open box at my feet.

  ‘Oh… not the dreaded lights. Tollie sorted those last year.’

  ‘You’re the man of the house now,’ I inform him with a wicked grin.

  ‘Guess I am.’

  ‘I’m thinking less is more this year. It’s not a cop-out, but, until we manage to get all the bits and pieces we want to make the cottage more homely, I think we should focus on the tree, the table and some sort of big, green extravaganza over there in the corner. It looks so empty at the far end of the room, doesn’t it? The problem is that the entire wall of glass turns into a mirror at night, and there isn’t a lot in the reflection, is there?’

  ‘My darling Immi. I promise that when this project is done, and the rest of the money comes in, we will go shopping. Or, at least, you’ll generate a list of items online and we’ll place those orders.’ He gives me one of his goofy grins and I stare at him. ‘What?’

  ‘Your hair still comes as a bit of a shock,’ I reply, making a sad face. ‘It takes a lot of getting used to.’

  The top is still a mass of curls that flop down over his forehead a little, but the back is very short. He does look handsome and cute, but it’s a different sort of cute.

  ‘It’s my new image. I’m not that guy who scribbles tunes on paper napkins any more, Immi. Once the film hits the cinemas my name is going to be out there. And, most importantly of all, I’m about to become a husband. Our life is changing, and good things are coming.’

  Well, at least the new haircut isn’t just a silly thing he did for the wedding, as that would have been crazy.

  ‘I know,’ I murmur, pushing back against him. ‘It’s time to take control of the Christmas lights then!’

  He groans as I pass him the first box. ‘There are another two of those, but thankfully we’ll only need two sets of lights for that tree. Why did you buy such a big one?’

  Gray looks at me timidly. ‘It’s a guy thing. Who wants to be seen carrying off a little tree, when you can strap a monster onto the roof of your car and pretend you don’t look like a total idiot?’

  That makes me laugh. ‘If you’re an idiot, at least you’re my idiot,’ I declare lovingly. ‘If we sort the tree and the table tonight, then we can laze in front of the fire for an hour or two. I’ll find something to brighten up that corner during the week.’

  ‘Don’t you have a dress fitting?’ Gray asks, frowning.

  ‘Tuesday, after yoga.’ When I know Ursula will be telling me off. I had to make yet another hole in my elf belt as my waist just seems to be getting smaller. I’m on the go all the time but it’s mince pie season and, hopefully, I’m about to begin putting a little of what I’ve lost back on.

  Once Gray has finished untangling the lights and checking that they’re all in working order, he carries in the tall stepladder. As I feed the string of bulbs to him, I keep up a constant narrative.

  ‘The section you just wound around the top is coming undone,’ I warn him, ‘and don’t overstretch!’

  There is a little moaning along the way when sharp ends of the little needles catch him unawares, but eventually we stand back, and as the little white lights twinkle we’re beaming. Last year Gray missed out on this Christmas ritual because he was caught up in the snow, doing his best to get himself and Rona to Aysbury in the worst snow we’d had for many years.

  ‘Right, let’s sit on the floor and decide which decorations we’re going to use,’ Gray says with gusto and I glance at him, surprised at this sudden spurt of enthusiasm. ‘Goodness knows what’s in the box Mum gave us, but she said not to feel guilty if none of the items “see the light of day”, as she so quaintly put it.’

  As I make myself comfortable Gray chooses one of our favourite Christmas CDs, a mixture of carols and classic oldies. With the fire now burning brightly, just the smell of the woodsmoke is enough to transport me back to my childhood. As I open the box from Rona and peer inside, my face breaks out into an instant smile.

  ‘Ah, a Santa Claus made from a cardboard tube!’

  Gray settles himself down next to me as I hand it to him. ‘Not bad for a four-year-old, is it?’ he says with pride. ‘Okay, the face is a little lopsided, but I did that on purpose as it makes him rather endearing,’ he banters.

  I sit back, letting him discover the contents for himself, happy to watch and listen as he shares some festive moments from his childhood.

  ‘Oh, we gotta use these! I made them in woodworking class, and I even signed the backs!’ he exclaims, holding up some decorations – quavers and treble clefs – cut from thin plywood and hanging from lengths of narrow red ribbon.

  ‘It’s so kind of your mum, but won’t she miss having these things on her own tree?’

  Gray stops for a moment, his mind elsewhere as he places them on the floor in front of us. ‘I doubt it. Mum has kept every single thing I made, wrote, or drew – including all of my school exercise books. Besides, her tree in the new place is going to sit on top of the TV unit, but I bet most of the decorations will hark back to my childhood.’

  Rona, too, is experiencing her first Christmas in her new home and it’s a time of change and adjustment for us all.

  ‘You and Tollie must have gone through this when you moved out of Lock Keeper’s Cottage, Immi,’ Gray reflects.

  I nod. ‘We did. He’s not overly sentimental about things – he says his memories are all that he needs to keep the past alive. I kept everything he gave me, but when I decorated my first tree after moving out of Lock Keeper’s Cottage, I went on a shopping spree. I wanted baubles and decorations that reminded me of nature – hence the silver stag heads, the white resin acorns and the wooden snowflakes. I love bells, too,’ I point out and he laughs.

  ‘Yes, I had noticed.’

  I pull out an old sweet tin from the days when they contained enough sweets to last well beyond Christmas, not the modern plastic version that seems to get smaller with each passing year.

  ‘This is my memory tin,’ I explain. ‘Every year I choose three things to put on the tree, for fear of anything breaking. Some of them are very delicate, as Grandma loved glass baubles. Others are home-made, like this o
ne.’ I hold up my version of a Christmas cracker and Gray’s face puckers up.

  ‘Aww…’

  ‘I know. Grandma and I spent hours making a dozen of these little beauties and eleven of them ended up being shredded by Grandad’s Labrador, Bessie. She was the best and usually sweet-natured, but keeping her away from the Christmas tree was an impossible task.’

  With a cardboard toilet-roll tube as the core, we covered them in red paper and tied the ends with gold thread. On the front is a small picture of a robin that I still remember painting. ‘This one is very special,’ I add, holding up a small silver cardboard box about three inches square. On the front is the letter I emblazoned in red felt. ‘Dad hung this on the tree every year and I was allowed to open it on Christmas Eve. As far as I can remember, it began when I was about five years old. It always contained a little keepsake – a ring, a bracelet, and then one year a beautiful little ceramic robin. I loved it and after that I started collecting the whole range. They’re all in here.’

  I dig out my box of treasures, taking off the lid and pulling out one of the screws of tissue paper. Gingerly unwrapping it, I hold up a hedgehog that would comfortably fit onto a two-pound coin. A sense of nostalgia sweeps over me, momentarily taking my breath away.

  ‘You know, Dad always said, “You can’t live in the past, every day is a chance to create a new and exciting memory,” and he was right. But I think I’ll keep these in my drawer in the bedroom, instead of in the box up in the attic.’ I’m talking to myself, of course, and Gray says nothing, but I can feel his eyes on me.