by Rosie Harris
‘I think you should wait until you can practice flying it outside,’ Delia said as she tried to comfort George.
‘Outside!’ Richard exclaimed. ‘What on earth are you talking about, Delia. Fly this outside and it might rise, heaven knows how high, and you might lose control of it and cause an accident. That’s what caused my accident, remember? And look what the result of that has been.’
‘I thought you said it was a drone that flew into your glider.’
‘It was, but what’s the difference?’
‘Well this is nowhere near as big as a drone,’ Delia argued.
‘Maybe not, but it could still cause an accident. Someone out walking, or on a bike, or even in a car. If the window was open it could fly right inside.’
‘Oh Richard, how very thoughtless of me,’ Peggy said contritely. She put out a hand and touched his shoulder. ‘I forgot about what happened to you. Oh dear, what a silly mistake.’ She picked up the helicopter, detached the wire from it and started to put it back in its box. ‘I’ll buy you something else, George, perhaps a car that has a remote control. OK?’
George burst into tears at the thought that she was going to take his present away. Sobbing, he ran from Delia’s arms to his father’s, begging him to let him keep the helicopter.
Peggy put her arms round both of them, telling Richard how sorry she was. Richard patted her shoulder.
‘Not your fault Peggy. It was a lovely thought and a most unusual present.’
‘Can I keep it, Daddy? Please, please, please,’ George begged.
Richard looked perplexed as he stared at George. His face was red and blotchy, and tears were still running down his cheeks. He wanted to say no, and that he must let Peggy replace it with a car, but he couldn’t bear the anguish in his son’s eyes, so reluctantly said, ‘Only if you promise me that you will never fly it outdoors.’
‘I promise, I promise,’ George agreed, hiccupping between each word as he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes to wipe away his tears. He hugged Richard and then turned and hugged Peggy. ‘You are the two people I love most in the whole world,’ he told them sternly.
Richard hugged and kissed him. ‘Now, don’t forget, you’ve promised us that you won’t fly the helicopter out of doors,’ Richard reminded him.
‘I won’t, Daddy. I promise,’ George said earnestly.
‘Right, well we’ll say no more about it. A coffee or a cup of tea would be nice after all that,’ he added looking across at Delia.
‘Yes, of course,’ she said and stood up to go and make it. ‘Lemonade or milk for you, George?’
‘Lemonade, please,’ he said.
From the kitchen, Delia could hear the sound of Richard and Peggy’s voices and catch the odd sentence or two as they laughed and joked together. Once again, a pang of jealousy went through her. He never laughed and bantered with her like that, she thought crossly. When they talked, no matter what it was about, Richard was always so serious. He was polite, considerate and would usually see reason, but he was never what she would call light-hearted.
Was that because he saw her as a servant rather than a friend? she wondered. To him, was she just someone who looked after him and George, ran the house, did the shopping and had even nursed him when he had come out of hospital?
Well, she asked herself, isn’t that what she did? He was her patient, not her friend, so perhaps that was why he was so impersonal towards her – apart from that one kiss that could be brushed off as a one-off burst of playfulness, or worse, as merely an attempt to make her stay caring for him, rather than anything more … She supposed she should have been pleased about his reserve, seeing she was alone in the house with him so much of the time.
She didn’t make any attempt to take part in Richard and Peggy’s cheerful exchange as they drank their coffee. They were comparing the different advantages of helicopters, small power planes like Cessna’s and gliders, something she knew so little about that she knew she would probably say the wrong thing anyway and make a fool of herself.
When Peggy drained her coffee cup and said she must be going, Delia felt a sense of relief. She knew that Peggy was on duty over Christmas, so at least they would be able to celebrate the festive holiday with Mary and Bill, without Peggy being there. As Richard helped her put on her coat, Peggy clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled out a wedge of papers from her pocket.
‘Heavens, I almost forgot about this,’ she said as she handed them to Delia. ‘This is the rota if you decide to start with us after Christmas,’ she said. ‘Any queries simply ring me.’
‘After Christmas?’ Richard frowned. ‘Are you still seriously thinking of going back to nursing?’ he said, staring at Delia in dismay.
‘I certainly hope she is,’ Peggy said, as she placed a hand on the door latch. ‘Don’t worry Richard, I’ll pop round on my days off and keep you company when Delia is working,’ she promised with a cheeky smile.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Christmas Day started very early for Delia. George awoke while it was still dark and crawled down to the end of his bed, in the hope that Father Christmas had been. When he found the bulging stocking hanging there his excitement knew no bounds. He was out of bed and into Richard’s room, hugging the sock full of goodies, eager to open it and share all the wonders with his father. Richard was in a deep sleep and unresponsive to all George’s pushes and pulls.
‘Go back to bed or come in here with me,’ he growled, without even opening his eyes.
George had another go at waking him, but when he found it was impossible to do so he raced off to Delia’s bedroom to show her what Father Christmas had left for him. Delia was a lighter sleeper than Richard and he was able to rouse her fairly easily. He clambered into bed beside her and began to unpack his treasure trove. He was thrilled with everything. There was a packet of his favourite sweets, a comic, an apple, an orange, chocolate, an assortment of hazelnuts and walnuts still in their shells, a packet of marbles and a yo-yo. By the time he had emptied his stocking and Delia had made the appropriate noises of amazement, she was wide awake.
Having eaten some of the sweets and half the small bar of chocolate, George was ready for a nap. He drifted off to sleep in the warmth of Delia’s bed. She felt wide awake.
She looked at her watch; it was only seven o’clock but she didn’t feel sleepy. She crept out of bed and went down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
When she opened the fridge to get the milk out there was the turkey, already prepared for the oven, so she decided that, before she went back up to bed, she might as well turn the oven on and start cooking it.
Mary arrived just after half past nine, laden with presents that she asked George to put under the tree.
‘When are we going to open them?’ he asked.
‘After we’ve eaten the wonderful Christmas dinner that I am going to help Delia to prepare,’ she told him.
‘Is everything under control?’ she asked, turning to Delia.
‘Yes, I think so. George woke me very early so the turkey has been in the oven on a low heat since seven o’clock. The only problem I have is that I haven’t enough pans to cook all the vegetables, not unless I either put several kinds together in one saucepan, or cook them and put them in the oven to keep warm. They’re all prepared and in bowls of water in the fridge.’
‘Why don’t you parboil the root vegetables, drain them and put them into a dish with a little seasoning? If you then pour some cooking oil over them, you can put them in the oven alongside the turkey to roast. Then you have the saucepans free to cook the greens.’
‘What a great idea!’ Delia smiled.
‘Don’t throw away the water you cook them in, we will use that along with the juices out of the turkey to help make the gravy.’
Bill arrived at midday with another bag of parcels. Once again, George was told to put them round the tree for later.
‘We can’t open them until we have eaten our Christmas dinner,’ Bill told him.
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It was almost two o’clock before they sat round the table that, with George’s help, Delia had laid with cutlery, glasses and red and gold serviettes the night before. The meal was a great success, with both men asking for a second helping of turkey.
‘Leave room for the Christmas pudding,’ Mary warned them.
Richard and Bill cleared the table and helped with the washing up. Then they all went into the sitting room. Richard brought out a bottle of port and Mary made the coffee, while Delia made sure that the mince pies were hot before she handed them round.
‘Now can we open the presents?’ George asked hopefully as he looked at the pile under the Christmas tree longingly. George acted as Father Christmas, taking each parcel to Richard first so that he could make sure it was going to the right person. The rustle of paper and the exclamations of surprise and delight as they unwrapped them lasted almost an hour.
Everyone seemed to be very pleased with what they had received and George was ecstatic. He had everything from board games and books, to a glider model making kit.
‘Will you help me do it, Daddy?’ he pleaded, but Richard shook his head.
‘No, not today, son. Perhaps we can do it tomorrow. Don’t open the box because if you lose any of the pieces we won’t be able to make it at all.’
‘Why don’t you come out to the kitchen with me and we’ll make everybody a cup of tea?’ Delia suggested.
‘Tea, we don’t want tea,’ Richard said. ‘We need another drink.’
‘You and Bill have your drink, I agree with Delia, a cup of tea would go down really well,’ Mary told him. By the time they’d made the tea and brought it back into the sitting room, George had persuaded Bill and his father to play one of his new board games with him.
Mary and Delia watched. They didn’t want to join in. They were both feeling pleasantly tired and were enjoying relaxing in front of a glowing log fire.
‘One of the best Christmases I’ve had in years,’ Bill commented.
‘It has been wonderful,’ Mary agreed.
‘Now it is time for George to go to bed,’ Delia stated.
‘Not yet, please,’ George pleaded. ‘It is Christmas, you know.’
‘Well, perhaps you can stay up for another ten minutes,’ Richard agreed, as they all laughed.
‘Why don’t you let your daddy read you a story from one of your new books,’ Bill suggested. ‘I feel too tired to tell you a bedtime story tonight.’
George considered for a moment.
‘It’s that or straight up to bed right now,’ Delia told him.
‘OK,’ he then took a further five minutes to select the story he wanted Richard to read. That decided, he curled up on Richard’s lap and they all fell silent, listening to the story with him. By the time Richard was halfway through the story, George’s head was nodding and he was struggling keep his eyes open. When Mary suggested that he might like to hear the rest of it in bed, he shook his head repeatedly.
‘No, I want to stay here,’ he said firmly.
‘Oh, that’s good,’ Bill said. ‘I want to hear the end as well.’ They all settled back, and Richard started reading again, when there was a ring of the doorbell.
‘Who on earth?’ Richard said, frowning in Delia’s direction.
‘I have no idea,’ she told him, as she stood up to answer it.
‘Probably Father Christmas come to see if you are in bed, George,’ Bill joked.
They heard voices in the hall, then Delia opened the door and Peggy Bristow rushed in. Peggy was looking very warm, yet glamorous. She was wearing a cream suede coat that had a wide fur collar and, when she undid it as she entered the room, they could see that it was lined with the same fur. Under it she was wearing a bright red wool dress and knee high cream boots also trimmed with cream fur.
‘Happy Christmas, everyone,’ Peggy murmured, her eyes fixed on Richard.
‘I’m sure you remember Bill Thompson from our trip to the eye hospital recently, but I don’t think you have met Richard’s mother, Mary Wilson,’ Delia said, introducing her.
‘Hello Peggy,’ George was already scrambling down from Richard’s lap and running over to give her a hug.
She bent and kissed him and ruffled his hair. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything,’ Peggy said and once again her eyes were fixed on Richard.
‘Peggy gave me a helicopter for Christmas,’ George announced to them all. ‘Can I show it to them, Daddy? Please, please,’ he said quickly when he saw Richard hesitate.
Delia saw Richard and Peggy exchange looks, sending signals, so she wasn’t too surprised when Richard said, ‘Very well, but you are simply to show it, not demonstrate it.’
George let out squeals of happiness as he darted upstairs to his bedroom to fetch his precious helicopter. When he returned, he walked all around the room, displaying it to them all and explaining different points to each of them.
‘Right, that’s it,’ Richard said. ‘Put it back in its box and take it back upstairs.’
George obediently picked up the helicopter, carefully put it in the box, and then walked towards the hall. As he reached the door he turned and, lifting the lid of the box, said, ‘Say goodbye to all the people, helicopter, you’re going to bed now.’ As he went to close the box he accidentally touched the remote. The helicopter was fully charged and before he could do anything, except gasp in surprise, it came out of the box and soared high into the air.
‘George!’ The shouts from Richard and Delia were simultaneous and startled George even more, making him press down harder on the remote. The toy zoomed and spun all over the place, until it finally crashed and bounced off the wall behind Bill, narrowly missing his ear. Pandemonium followed. Richard was shouting at him, Delia remonstrating, his grandmother saying how dangerous it had been and Bill assuring everybody that he was all right. George didn’t seem to know what to do for the best and, sobbing loudly, he threw himself in Peggy’s arms since she was the only one who wasn’t telling him off. Richard and Mary were fussing over Bill.
‘Are you sure you are all right?’ Mary said anxiously. ‘It did hit your face, are you quite sure your eyes are all right?’
‘They’re fine,’ Bill asserted gruffly, embarrassed by all the fuss. He had been quite shaken by what had happened, but he was sure George hadn’t meant to do it deliberately. He simply pressed the remote accidentally when he was putting the toy back into its box, but Richard wouldn’t accept that.
‘He did it deliberately, he was defying me,’ he said angrily. ‘I’m so sorry, Bill, you must have been scared to death.’
‘It all happened so quickly I didn’t have time to think about it,’ Bill mumbled.
‘Well George can apologize to you.’
He pulled George unceremoniously from Peggy’s arms and marched him over to Bill.
‘Now say how sorry you are for being so disobedient,’ he ordered. ‘You know Bill has to go to the hospital for treatment for his eyes, well, you could have made them far worse. You might even have blinded him if that helicopter had hit his eye and not his ear!’
In a flood of tears, George said how sorry he was.
‘I know you didn’t mean to do it, that it was an accident,’ Bill said, shaking George’s hand in a man-to-man fashion. ‘Now don’t worry about it, no harm done at all.’
Richard was still angry.
In a flirtatious, teasing voice, Peggy said, ‘Didn’t you ever do anything naughty when you were a boy, or were you always a goody-goody like you are now?’
Richard coloured up, but didn’t answer.
‘Come on, I’ll take you up to bed and daddy can come up and tuck you in,’ Peggy said, taking hold of George’s hand and leading him towards the hall. ‘Let me carry the box, it might be safer,’ she added, taking the helicopter from George. ‘Don’t be too long,’ she told Richard raising her eyebrow suggestively, ‘we’ll only be five minutes undressing and getting into bed.’
There was an awkward silence in the room a
fter they’d left, then they all began talking at once as if an attempt to forget what had happened. The atmosphere had been ruined though. Mary was concerned about Bill and kept squeezing his hand reassuringly. Richard was still angry about George disobeying him and, a couple of minutes later, he rose from his chair muttering that he was going to tuck George in.
‘Don’t say anything else to him about what happened or the poor little devil will be having nightmares,’ Bill warned. Richard didn’t reply and he was gone so long that Delia kept wondering what was going on upstairs.
As if sensing her unease, Mary said, ‘I expect he is reading George a story to try and calm him down.’
He might manage to calm George down but he certainly wasn’t doing anything for her blood pressure Delia thought, as she strained to hear his or Peggy’s footsteps on the stairs.
Finally she said, ‘Shall we all have a coffee?’
Mary and Bill assented and on her way through to the kitchen, she called up the stairs,
‘Coffee time you two,’ in the hope that it would bring them back down immediately.
THIRTY-NINE
After they had eaten lunch on New Year’s Day, Delia began taking the Christmas decorations down. She asked Richard to dismantle the lights from the Christmas tree and pack them away.
‘What’s going on? You don’t need to pack these away until twelfth night and that’s not for ages,’ Richard told her. ‘What’s the hurry?’
‘We both start work tomorrow or have you forgotten?’
‘Of course I haven’t forgotten!’
‘We might not have time to do it when we get home or we might be too tired,’ Delia told him.
‘Are you still going ahead with the idea of taking that job?’ Richard frowned.
‘Yes, I am,’ Delia said firmly.
