A Cozy Christmas in Cornwall

by Jane Linfoot

  Which isn’t what I meant at all, but whatever. And I know Miranda hasn’t been Bill’s easiest guest, but I’m hoping he’s big enough to overlook that. ‘All I’m saying is, if Miranda and Ambie are happy together, I’d hate Milo to get in the way of that.’

  Bill grins at me. ‘I can’t say too much. But it might put your mind at rest to know I’ve already been recruited – I’m firmly Team Ambie.’ Then his lips twist again. ‘And however much I’d like to push Miranda in the sea for winding me up, I’m totally committed to her happy ending.’

  I’m so relieved I almost forget myself and give him a fist bump. But I stop myself just in time and pull back my hand. ‘Great. You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that.’ It doesn’t go halfway to expressing my exuberance, but it’ll have to do for now. ‘So, let’s bring on the film fest then.’

  Bill’s nodding now. ‘I owe you big time for all this, Ivy-leaf. And don’t forget Frozen later.’ His lips twist into another even wider smile. ‘I’ll expect you to be word perfect. It’s always best enjoyed with ice cream so best check there’s plenty in the freezer.’

  If anything was bothering him before with Keef, he’s moved on seamlessly. As for his smile, that glimpse of teeth … my insides turning to hot syrup, really isn’t helpful. And of course it isn’t a date, so why the hell would my brain be turning it into that? That butterfly storm all the way from my waist to my throat is a total waste of wildlife.

  ‘Just one more thing …’

  What now? I take a breath. ‘And?’

  ‘With ice cream … do you go for Ben and Jerry’s or Haagen Dazs?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  His lips are twisting again. ‘It’s one of those really important compatibility questions.’

  Oh my. ‘Haagen Dazs.’

  ‘Because …?’

  I’m being put on the spot, but the answers come straight out because I’m so sure of them I don’t even have to think. ‘The names are less wacky, and it’s more grown up which is not necessarily a good thing, but it’s so much creamier and more delish overall. So, that.’

  ‘Right answer. That’s because the ingredients are better.’ He’s grinning now. ‘In which case, so long as Milo’s nowhere around, I’ll leave you to your mistletoe.’

  And then he marches out leaving me open mouthed, gazing at the knobbly nails in the door that closed behind him.

  27.

  Chestnuts roasting on an open fire …

  with bells on

  ‘Anchovy, mushroom, and brie, and a spicy pepperoni with double cheese coming up.’ Bill is giving a running commentary as he pulls the trays of pizza out of the oven later and slides them onto the serving boards on the kitchen work surface.

  It’s teatime and the film fest is already well underway. We began with The Snowman, moved on to Elf, and then we left Fliss with a few surfies and the kids in the family room while the rest of us came out to prepare the food. Obviously if she’s anywhere within a hundred yards of the action, Libby has to take charge. As she’s so mini she can barely see over the island unit, she piled up a couple of Ambie’s empty champagne crates and stood on those. Once she’d got an overview of the kitchen she allocated all the jobs in a flash then shouted instructions how to do them as we went along. Willow has been filling huge glass bowls with colourful salads, taking them through to the tables in the family room as she finishes them, I have been rolling out the dough they’d made earlier on the baking sheets, and Milo and Bill have been on toppings – or more to the point they’ve been fighting over them.

  You name it, they’ve had a stand off about it. Everything from how to de-seed the peppers to whether the tomato sauce should be spread with a spoon or a spatula. They snarled their way through deciding how big to make the brie chunks, Milo was strutting around insisting one bit of the cheese grater was more right than another. I mean, guys, it’s cheese, just grate it! Then Bill was getting all superior about how many olives to use and what colour they should be. Please, men, just shut the eff up and throw them on!

  Someone needs to tell them, Christmas is the season of goodwill, people are supposed to get on. We’re not aiming for Michelin stars here – edible will do. That’s the ridiculous part – they both sound like they know what they’re doing, but when they lock horns progress stops completely. In the end Libby had to get down from her box and give them a damn good talking to and the same glare she uses for Tarkie when he’s cheeking Miranda, and literally draw lines across the worktop and the job list.

  Bill’s staring at me as he goes in with the pizza wheel to slice the pizza that’s come out of the oven. ‘How about pineapple? Where do you stand on that?’ The man is actually as much a whizz at slicing pizza as he is at getting the toppings on but I have no idea what he’s getting at here.

  ‘If you’re asking about Keef’s joggers, I know the pineapple motifs are pretty huge and hideously bright, but I reckon he’s got the panache to carry them off. That’s probably why they’d been given away in the first place, someone lost their nerve.’

  He’s rolling his eyes. ‘Ivy-star, we’re cooking pizza not trousers – everyone asks these days, and I just wondered, do you take yours with pineapple chunks … or not?’

  Oh that. Why didn’t he just say?

  ‘Hell no, I can’t stand pineapple – except in cocktails, then I love it – or at least I used to.’

  He gives my arm a punch, ‘I’m the same, pineapple gets the thumbs down from me on pizzas every time.’

  Lucky for me, this time there are two layers of sweater to mop up the tingle where he touches me. ‘Which means, in the unlikely event we’re ever in the same town again after Christmas, and if we happen to be in the same supermarket, and we end up hitting the freezer aisles at the same moment, what with liking the same ice cream and pizza, we’ll probably be looking in the same cabinets.’

  He smiles at me. ‘Exactly. And when that happens, I promise I’ll open the freezer door for you.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll look forward to it.’ Except of course it totally won’t happen. Not ever. The day after Boxing Day we’ll all speed away back to London, and I’ll never have to see him again. Which should make me happier than it does. I’d assumed being around him would get easier. You’d think that after ten days the whole good-looks wow-factor tummy-flip thing would have worn off. But if anything it’s got worse rather than better. Seriously, the thought of being freed from that and of never seeing him again should be making me jump for joy, so I have no idea why it’s giving me a pang in my chest.

  As he does the last roll of the pizza cutter he looks across to Milo. ‘Okay, where’s the pen? I need to make labels for these.’

  I give a silent wooohooo, because I can’t believe my luck here. All the time hanging round his bedroom and I still haven’t seen so much as a scrawled note. And I know I sound a bit obsessive, but I’m still on the look-out for the phantom muffin baker. One glance at Bill’s writing and I can rule him out of the search. To be fair, I need all the help I can get with this, I’m running seriously short of suspects.

  At the far end of the island unit, Milo gives a snort. ‘Nice try, mate. You heard Libby – labels are my domain and that’s how it’s staying.’ The taunting way he waggles the pen and pad, he’s really enjoying this. ‘So you tell me what to write then I’ll pass them over to you.’

  Damn. So close and yet still so far away. There’s no way Milo’s backing down on this, so I leave them to it, and turn to Miranda who’s coming into the kitchen.

  ‘Hey, you’re looking glamourous, are you going to be warm enough?’ She’s swapped her many layers of jumpers and ladder ripped leggings for a slinky dress and sheer black tights. The strappy high heel boots with studs are the only part of the outfit that looks anything like what she’d normally wear.

  ‘The dress is a present from Ambie, it was meant for Christmas Day, but he asked me to wear it tonight.’ She pulls at the fabric. ‘It’s on the thin side, but I left him on his own a lot to
day so I didn’t want to say no to this.’

  I’m smiling to encourage her because she doesn’t look completely comfortable in the body skimming, streamlined satin. I’ve never seen her go for such formalised sequin and beaded embellishment either, she’s always been more of a scatter queen. ‘It’s gorgeous, such a Christmassy colour, and so many sparkles.’

  She gives a little shrug and pinches her cheeks. ‘Oh dear, red tends to drain me, and it’s much more uptight than I’d usually choose, and a lot less forgiving with my bulges. I feel a bit like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes not mine.’

  I’m still picking up that she needs reassurance. ‘You look stunning, and you’ll be able to pop a waterfall cardi or two over it later so you feel more like yourself.’

  ‘Thanks, sweetheart.’ Her hand lands on my arm. ‘Sometimes I feel Ambie wishes I were less quirky and more conventional. He’s much more Marks and Sparks than Spanky Dungeon.’

  And I wish my alarm bells weren’t clanging so loudly. ‘You stay true to yourself, Miranda, I’m sure Ambie will grow to love your bondage biker boots and ironic fairy corset dresses, given time. You could always skip the ripped fishnets.’

  She gives a throaty chortle. ‘But they’re my favourite part.’ Then she shrugs away a shudder and starts to smile again. ‘It’s lovely having you here sticking up for me. And I’ve been sent to get high chairs for Oscar and Harriet, I’d love a hand with those too.’

  ‘Sure, they’re over here, let’s take one each, and I’ll light the tea lights in the family room at the same time.’

  As we make our way across the kitchen Miranda lowers her voice. ‘Between us I’d hoped Ambie would help, but he’s on the sofa. Again.’ She pauses to pull a face. ‘Once he sits down unless there’s a drink on offer, it’s as if his bum is superglued to the cushions. If we’re talking about people changing, I would not be sorry if he moved once in a while.’

  I don’t like to notice how rarely he helps. ‘Hopefully once he gets to know everyone better he’ll get more involved.’

  She wrinkles her nose as we get to the high chairs. ‘That’s the trouble, I’m not sure he will. At my age boyfriends are hard to come by, beggars can’t be choosers. He looks after me, he’s got a lovely car, and he’s here. Asking any more would be unrealistic.’ Which is a very sad place to be.

  I send her a grin. ‘In any case, you’ve only committed for Christmas. You’re free to move on in the New Year if you still haven’t bedded in.’

  And with that thought we shiver our way out into the chilly hallway and towards the noise from the family room. As we push the high chairs into place next to Fliss’s sofa, Willow is coming towards us. Her eyebrows are arched, and she’s looking like she breathed in a while ago and forgot to breath out again.

  ‘Everything okay, Willow?’

  ‘Actually, no, it isn’t.’

  I’d have been more surprised if she’d said yes. Not that this is all about me, but I have to comment. ‘You know my auras feel so much better since you gave me the sea glass.’

  Her face softens into the smile I was hoping for. ‘Aura, Ivy, you only have one, but that’s good, I can tell.’ She frowns again. ‘This is something a lot more global.’

  My heart is sinking. ‘Oh my …’

  She comes right up to my ear and hisses, ‘I just spotted a highly unsuitable DVD on the pile.’

  After I warned Keef too. If he’s smuggled Texas Chainsaw Massacre in I’ll personally chop him into little pieces. I hardly dare ask, so take baby steps. ‘Are you comfortable to tell me what it is?’

  Her mouth comes to my ear. ‘It’s the one with the pigs.’

  ‘Not Babe?’ My mind is racing through what else it could be.

  She shakes her head. ‘It’s that pre-school animation, it’s so bad I refuse to say the name on principle. It’s hugely popular but there are big problems with the gender stereotyping, and the central character never wears a seat belt.’

  If I remember rightly from watching with Oscar, it’s a hand drawn animal, driving a toy car. ‘Is that all?’ I was sure she’d found something so much worse. Surfie porn or something.

  Her eyes are flashing. ‘It’s not a minor issue, Ivy, it’s hugely damaging for toddlers to see a father figure lounging around in an armchair reading the paper while the mother does all the domestic chores. We women will never achieve equality in a generation if that’s the start in life we give our children.’

  ‘Very true.’ Not having children I haven’t thought about it before. Maybe this is Ambie’s problem – he’s been watching too much Peppa Pig. I lean towards her. ‘Any offending DVDs, bring them to me and I’ll put them in Bill’s room away from the kids.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Her face relaxes again. ‘And I’m so pleased you got mistletoe, it’s a very powerful plant and not only for kissing under.’ Her eyes are shining now.

  ‘Really?’

  She nods and winks at me. ‘It gives you a lot of protection from werewolves, it’s great for fertility, and it stops you having your children swapped for faerie changelings.’

  I laugh too and as I go off to light the candles I turn to Fliss sitting on the sofa. ‘Did you hear that? Bill bought so much of the stuff it looks like you’re going to have to keep Harriet and Oscar after all.’

  With so many strong women and opinions this Christmas was never going to be easy. Which is why it’s good for me to be on the edge. So long as my tea lights look amazing shining in the dark, sending warm shadows flickering up over the stonework then I’m happy. As I sit down to help Fliss devour the pizza, for a while all I see of Bill are a few grimaces and eye rolls from across the room. When I come back in from the kitchen after clearing away they’re well into Wallace and Gromit, and I squeeze down on a sofa between Fliss and Miranda with Merwyn sitting on my feet. To be honest, when it ends we’re expecting to move seamlessly into the next Wallace and Gromit film, and then Home Alone, but Tiff and Tansy are practising handstands on a duvet. And then Ambie gets up – who said he couldn’t move? – and Milo goes out too, and then suddenly Bill’s in front of the fire, clapping his hands. He carefully arranges a cushion on the floor and gives a little cough.

  ‘If I could just have everyone’s attention there’s a slight update to this evening’s programme …’

  It takes a while for the acrobats to stop, and for Tom and Tarkie to emerge from their tower room, but we get there in the end. And then the lights dim slightly and some familiar music begins. It’s one of those times I know I won’t be able to place it until the words begin but before they can Ambie appears, holding a mic in his hand.

  Miranda shouts to Bill, ‘If you’d told us we were doing Britain’s got Talent, I’d have brought my belly dancing outfit.’ She wiggles her eyebrows at him. ‘That’s another thing you should think of, Bill, castle erotic dancing weekends.’

  Instead of Bill doing his usual answering back he simply puts his finger to his lips.

  As I take in Ambie’s tux I give Fliss and Miranda a nod of admiration. ‘Someone scrubs up well.’ I don’t think I’ve ever seen him completely dry before, but now he is he’s strikingly tall and distinguished with his tanned cheekbones and his fabulous iron grey curls.

  Fliss gives a snort. ‘Slightly spoiled by his clip-on bow tie not being straight.’

  I hiss at her. ‘And I might have given the Santa hat a miss too.’ Then I turn to Miranda. ‘What’s he doing?’

  But she’s staring at him too hard to reply, and her smile’s very bright but strangely fixed.

  The moment Ambie starts to sing the words I’ve never seen you look so lovely as you did tonight … I get the song. ‘It’s Lady in Red … and he’s got Chris de Burgh’s hip wiggle off to a T too.’

  Fliss is hissing across me at Miranda. ‘You didn’t tell us he did karaoke …’ from her frowns she can’t work out what’s going on any more than I can ‘… or is he lip syncing?’

  As he slightly misses a note, it’s clear it’s his own voice. T
hen he’s coming towards us, sliding his shiny black leather-soled shoes across the rug, knees slightly bent as he moves, holding out his hand, still crooning the words. To give him his due, it’s astonishing how good he is.

  I give Miranda a nudge. ‘Good thing you put on the dress.’ But she’s flapping her fingers in front of her face too hard to reply.

  We all know karaoke looks easy, but try to do it and it’s a whole different story. Believe me, I know. When I tried singing along to Somewhere Only We Know, the karaoke version with lyrics, on YouTube in the kitchen in preparation for Fliss’s hen party cocktail night I couldn’t even get the first line in the right place. All I can say is thank Christmas I tried it at home first and not in public. It was so hideous I was cringing with embarrassment at myself, and I was the only one there. So I know this is hard, and he’s pretty much note perfect, except for the highest bits. And to be fair, even Chris de Burgh cracks on those sometimes. And when he’s a yard away I swear I hear Miranda give a low groan and mutter to herself:

  ‘Oh fuck.’

  But he’s pulling her to her feet, and as she slinks back across the room with him, his hand’s slipping over her bottom, and the red dress is riding up slightly. And from the way her eyes are almost popping he’s definitely surprised her. He’s pulling this off and smashing it, but you have to admit, it’s a risky choice of music. This song is like Marmite, it’s a lover or a loather. Being a sucker for cheesy romantic I’d go for it every time, but it’s the kind of corny Miranda always jokes about. If she was listening to Absolute 80s radio at home and this came on she’d be more likely to throw her slipper at the radio or switch it off than sing along with it.

  But Ambie’s working it all the way, and he’s not going to give up. The way he’s looking deeply into her eyes is so sincere, the notes of his voice are so low and deep. As they reverberate around the room it’s hard not to be carried away by the romance and the love. And we can see Miranda melting in front of us as she relaxes into this. I mean who wouldn’t want to be serenaded by someone who sounds as smooth as James Bond and is suave enough to be Michael Douglas’s body double with a sprinkling of Hugh Grant rakishness tossed in for good measure?