by kendra Smith
‘Right,’ says Daniel, ‘we’ll have two of those! The man pops them in the contraption that wraps them in plastic netting and they come out the other end like tree-sausages. I wander around and look at the wooden ornaments, inhale the cinnamon smell of the scented candles burning on a nearby table and pick up some of the decorations laid out there. There are silver filigree angels, a tiny polystyrene snowman with an orange scarf and a nativity scene made out of wire figurines. They’re all adorable.
Daniel comes up behind me as I’m holding the snowman in my hand. He gives me a nudge in the ribs and nods to the car.
I carry one of the trees and he carries the other back to the car and we sling them in the boot.
He stands with his hands on his hips before closing the boot. ‘There, that’s Christmas, right there.’ He turns to me and nods towards the boot.
‘You love Christmas, don’t you?’
‘Yeah. Lots of memories of growing up with real tress; the excitement of Christmas Eve. Being back in the UK – I guess it’s all coming back to me. I want to enjoy it with—’ He stops mid-sentence and I wonder what he was about to say. ‘Coffee?’
‘Sure,’ I nod. ‘And I’m buying it this time.’
When I get back to the car, I hand him a coffee. He takes it from me and has a sip. Then he places it on the dashboard.
‘Close your eyes and hold out your hand,’ he says.
I do as I’m told.
‘Open up your palm.’ I can feel him place something light and delicate in it.
‘Now open your eyes.’
I look down to see the snowman with the orange scarf sitting in my hand. The snowman has a painted orange carrot nose and tiny black beads for eyes. I smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘Your first Christmas present from me.’
Will there be more? We sit in silence, looking out over the farm in the dusky light. Steam has built up on the windscreen from the hot drinks. The air in the car is warm and musty: coffee mixed with his aftershave. There’s a small lake next to the farm, the moon reflected in its dark, inky water, casting an eerie white glow across the surface.
I think about what Tyler said. You’re happy, Mum, aren’t you? I look over at Daniel staring out over the lake, at the steam from the coffee gathering around his face and I tentatively reach out and put my hand on his knee. He seems lost in thought. Without saying anything, he places his hand over mine, curls his fingers gently around my fingertips and squeezes it tight. Happy? Yes, I am.
42
Dawn
Christmas Day. Dawn had woken in the night sweating slightly. Damn this perimenopause. But it was no wonder she was sweating, she’d had a nightmare that the fully feathered pheasants had been running around the kitchen wearing Christmas hats and chasing a terrified Pixie.
She looked at her clock – 8 a.m. Alice and Felix were bound to be up soon. She crept past a snoring Eric, went downstairs and looked at the scene she’d created and smiled: yes, a Christmas tree twinkling in the semi-darkness of the morning. It was like someone had placed hundreds of luminous jelly tots at the end of every branch. Holly was draped lazily over the mantelpiece and the cat was a fluffy ball of fur on the sofa. Glancing out the window, she could see a dusting of snow covering the garden like sieved icing sugar. Everything was perfect! She couldn’t wait till Christmas lunch. Having everyone round the table – it was going to be marvellous.
Two hours later they were all assembled in the lounge. ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ was blaring out of the speakers. Dawn caught sight of some weirdly energetic presenters on the telly who looked like they’d snorted coke to get through the Christmas morning shift on CBBC, dancing around playing ‘Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer’ wearing Red Nose Day noses. Christ – they’re so young. She frowned.
Eric leaned over and handed her an envelope. What was in it? As she opened it, she recognised the crest of the luxury hotel and spa she’d been yearning to go to. The one you’d go to if you’d won the school baking competition – some hope! And her darling husband had bought it for her! How wonderful. But out of nowhere a thought occurred to her. Was it a guilt present?
‘Thank you, darling, this looks amazing.’ She peered at it more closely. ‘A weekend away for two – how lovely.’
‘Oh well done, Eric, you took my advice,’ Joyce chirped.
Dawn shot her a look.
‘I’ll look after the children,’ Joyce carried on. ‘You two should spend some time together.’ She smiled at them. ‘Here, Dawn, this is for you.’ Joyce handed her a parcel.
Dawn ripped open the holly-covered paper and a book fell out.
Your Complete Book of Baking. ‘Lovely, thanks, Joyce,’ she said flicking through the pages, staring at all the delicious, glossy pictures of cakes, pastries, biscuits – knowing she’d never make any of them.
‘Yes, I thought we might do some recipes together. What do you think?’
Dawn thought that it was a lovely idea. Maybe they’d bake their way to some kind of peace?
‘There’s one more in there.’ Joyce nodded to the wrapping as a second book fell onto her lap. The Grown-Up Guide to the Menopause: how to handle the hormonal highs and lows.
‘Thanks, Joyce, I’ll start reading this today.’ She plastered a smile on her face, got up, clutching the book in one hand and marched into the kitchen. She walked to the assembled bottles of wine and sherry that had been laid out for later, opened the sherry and poured herself a hefty measure. She looked at the kitchen clock: 10.20 a.m.
Just then Alice skipped into the kitchen in her new slippers with bunny ears on them. ‘Mum?’ She skidded up next to her. ‘Did you know that the liver takes one hour to process each unit of alcohol? Felix just told me.’
‘Really, darling? How lovely.’ Dawn looked at her daughter with her fresh face and twinkling blue eyes and then turned to her sherry glass, and filled it to the brim. She took a gulp, and then poured the rest over the Christmas pudding.
*
The table looked magnificent. Dawn wanted to pinch herself. She’d really pulled out all the stops. Silver was her theme this year: candles, napkins, silver tinsel inside each champagne flute as a frivolous touch, and her favourite: silver crackers all neatly stacked up like a pyramid on each side of the table. She just loved to pore over women’s magazines at this time of year, the glossy photos, looking at how every room could be given a Christmas touch, mistletoe in the hall, mulled wine for parties… Life belonged to another universe in those magazines, but it was a universe she wanted to live in, just for a bit, just a little. Just today. Please.
‘That’s the door! Maybe Santa’s visiting again!’ shrieked Alice, skipping along the hallway. She was wearing her bunny slippers and a pink fairy dress complete with wings that kept getting caught up in various things: the cat’s claws, branches of the Christmas tree, Eric’s holly up the stairs. She’d caught Alice muttering ‘This fucking doorway is too small!’ earlier and she’d hit the roof. Where had she learnt that language? Alice and Felix were super-hyper on Haribos from their stockings and she was quite sure she’d seen Alice feed some to the cat, too.
‘No, stupid, and anyway if he did he would come down the chimney!’ Felix punched his little sister in the arm and pulled at a fairy wing, which came off in his hand. He stood with his mouth open.
‘Muuuuum!! Felix broke my wings!’ Alice flounced up the stairs as Joyce yelled after her. ‘Bring it to me, darling; Nanna can fix it.’
‘Thanks,’ mouthed Dawn to Joyce as she went to the door.
Suzie, Rex and Daniel were all standing there. ‘Merry Christmas!’ they cheered – and Pixie, pulling on the lead, joined in. She shooed them into the lounge where Eric was in charge of drinks and nipped back to the kitchen.
Once the cooking was under control (Joyce had been adamant that you added ‘several generous heaps of cornflour, dear, to the gravy’ by which time Dawn had simply given up, gone into the pantry and had another glass of sherry), Dawn came into the lounge and joined
in with the champagne – they were just waiting for Charlie.
After a short time gathered in the lounge for drinks, Dawn hastily moved the lunch on as Felix and Alice were firing peanuts from the Nerf Gun at Joyce and Pixie and both of them were getting quite agitated. But just as they were walking to the dining room, the doorbell went again.
‘Stop firing peanuts, you two! I’ll get it,’ said Eric doubling back to get the door.
Once they were all round the table, Felix’s sugar rush came to the fore and he managed to knock over the silver crackers as he was having a Nerf Gun war with the cat – which was oblivious to his attacks but kept darting behind the sideboard. ‘It’s just “collateral damage”, Mum,’ Felix had told her as he hastily rearranged all the silver crackers. ‘To be expected in a war.’
Eric came back with Charlie following behind him, carrying a bottle of Prosecco. She looked quite pale. Dawn got up immediately.
‘Hello, there. How are you?’ Dawn said, taking the bottle from her and patting one of the chairs. ‘You sit here, next to Alice and Daniel, and they’ll protect you from Felix!’
‘Sure thing,’ Charlie stammered. ‘Sorry I’m late, was just leaving Tyler some food. He wanted to come, but—’
‘Oh, what are you doing here?’ Suzie blurted out.
Rex turned to her. ‘Darling?’
‘Sorry,’ muttered Suzie. ‘Charlie, this is my husband, Rex.’
‘Right. Nice to meet you – finally.’
Rex took Charlie’s hand and shook it formally. ‘Merry Christmas.’
Charlie looks so pale, worried Dawn. She really doesn’t seem herself at all.
‘Let her sit down, darling,’ snapped Suzie, as Rex dropped Charlie’s hand abruptly and glanced at Suzie.
‘Right, everyone, are we OK for drinks?’ Dawn really wanted the afternoon to go well. To have a festive time.
‘Don’t give any fizz to Charlie, will you?’ said Suzie as Dawn caught Charlie frowning at her.
‘Remind me, how do you all know each other?’ Joyce beamed at everyone as Charlie started choking on her sparkling elderflower.
I told her not to say anything, fumed Dawn… ‘Well,’ Dawn started, ‘I’ve known Daniel for a long time, knew him before his wife—’
Daniel cut in for her: ‘Died, it’s OK, Dawn, you can say it.’
‘Yes, sorry.’ She smiled at him.
Charlie looked like she’d seen a ghost. Dawn passed her a cracker to pull and mouthed, ‘You OK?’ The poor girl just nodded.
‘Actually, where’s the loo, please?’ Charlie asked.
‘I’ll take you!’ Alice skipped up to her and helped her pull out her chair. ‘Oh, you’re quite fat, aren’t you?’ She glanced at Charlie’s belly.
‘Alice!’ shrieked Dawn. ‘You can’t say that about someone!’
Alice beamed at her. ‘Well, Mummy, that’s what you said about Nanna the other day, “Nanna must have eaten too many Christmas choccies as she’s getting a bit fat!”’ Alice said in a sing-songy voice. ‘Didn’t you, Mum?’ Alice was really pushing her buttons!
‘Well, everyone – let’s have a toast.’ Dawn grinned and hoped her bright fuchsia lipstick would detract from her burning cheeks. That was it. She must have a word with Alice about not repeating everything she said about Joyce and not being so obtuse! She raised her glass. ‘Here’s to friends and family – happy Christmas!’ She beamed especially widely in the direction of Joyce.
43
Charlie
Each person at the table picks up their nearest glass. Felix and Alice have orange Fanta in champagne glasses and I have fizzy elderflower.
‘Happy Christmas!’ goes up the cheer.
Daniel is sitting right next to me. He turns to me and clinks glasses, then takes a huge gulp of champagne. I take a sip of mine. The fact that when I sat down, he gently rubbed my back almost had me fainting. And now, his leg is inches away from mine under the table. It’s almost too much. Suddenly, I feel him gently move it next to mine. I glance at Suzie and Rex. I didn’t know they’d be here.
‘Oooh! Move over!’ squeals Alice and budges me down the table a bit. I’m left with my thigh firmly pressed right next to his, which is causing quite a sensation in my stomach. He turns to me and gives me a quick grin.
‘So, Daniel, you have an um, transport business, don’t you?’ Joyce smiles. That nosy woman seems to want to know everything.
‘I do. I drive lots of people around. “Going Places At Any Age” is what it’s called. Some of my clients just want a lift to the park; some of them can’t walk very far any more. It gets them out the house. Or I take them to the vet with their pets!’ He turns to me and raises his eyebrows.
‘And you’re driving the lovely Charlie where she wants to go – is that right?’
‘Yes.’ Daniel nods and takes another sip of bubbles.
Joyce turns to me. There’s a small feather in her hair and she looks like a pantomime character in her bright lipstick and frilly blouse. ‘Now, that’s a pretty name, but what’s your real name, darling? Can’t be Charlie, surely – a boy’s name for such a pretty girl?’
‘Well, actually it’s Chardonnay, but I can’t remember which one of my foster mums chose it.’ I put particular emphasis on ‘foster’.
That shuts up the bossy boots.
She raises her eyebrows at me. ‘Oh, I see.’ Then she turns to Suzie. ‘So, how’s it all going with the surrogacy, with you and Charlie, then? All going smoothly?’
Oh.
Dear.
Lord.
No.
Not like this.
Daniel suddenly has a choking fit. He looks like he can’t breathe.
‘Eric, do something!’ shouts Dawn across the table as Eric hastily pushes back his chair, gets up and whacks Daniel on the back. After a bit more coughing and choking, Suzie shouts: ‘The Heimlich procedure! Do something!’
Eric puts his arms around Daniel and yanks; more coughing. Finally, once Daniel has stopped coughing, Eric pours him some water and makes him slowly take a sip. He’s grey. He looks like someone has placed a dead rat on his plate. What must he think?
I look over at Suzie who shrugs. Thank you very much, I want to scream.
‘Are you all right, Daniel?’ asks Dawn.
‘Yes, fine, fine,’ he quickly mutters. ‘I think I’m coming down with something. Can I have some more water please?’
I specifically told Dawn not to say anything about the surrogacy at Christmas. And now she’s told her broadcast-the-news-around-Chesterbrook mother-in-law! I knew Daniel would be shocked, horrified even. I so desperately had wanted to tell him myself. Explain it all, so he’d understand. I quickly steal a glance at him again, but he won’t look at me.
Just then, Felix thumps Alice on the arm again as she’s been drinking his Fanta.
‘Will you behave, you two, it’s Christmas!’ Eric is in quite a tizzy. The poor man seems exhausted – I know how he feels. I smile sympathetically at him and spear a roast potato that I have no intention of eating with my fork. Looking around the table, I have one of those out-of-body feelings. Here I am at a lovely Christmas dinner, only the man I want to be with now knows that I am a surrogate and everyone is trying very hard not to mention it. I feel like I’m in a pantomime of my own making and almost want to cry.
‘Alice, darling, look, I’ve given you all the white meat, and the stuffing, you lucky girl!’ Joyce is pointing to Alice’s plate.
‘But I’m vegetarian, Nanna!’
‘Oh, when did you become vegetarian, darling?’ She fishes her glasses from the top of her head, puts them on and peers at Alice. She looks genuinely confused.
‘After Mummy killed a pheasant and after you looked after us last Sunday while Mummy and Daddy went for a walk, remember? When you said they needed to “fix their marriage”.’
‘Alice!’ Dawn yelps.
‘But that’s what you said, didn’t you, Nanna? And you gave us the yucky lasagne, because you�
��d mixed up the mince with the cat food in the fridge. I’m never eating meat again!’ wails Alice, throwing her fork down.
‘Joyce! You never told us that!’ Dawn looks horrified.
‘Yes, well, sorry, I do need to get new glasses.’ Joyce takes her glasses off, looks at them as if they will provide an answer, then starts to clean them with the hem of her dress. Next she gets up saying she will get Alice something else.
I notice Dawn mouthing ‘cat food’ to Eric who raises his eyebrows. Thank God for that – at least we’ve changed the subject. Suddenly there’s a spoon hovering by my plate.
‘For goodness’ sake, Suzie, will you stop putting Brussels sprouts on my plate!’ I bat away Suzie’s hand. ‘I am not a child!’
‘But they’re good for the baby!’
I push my chair back. ‘Look, Suzie, I don’t feel so great today – every day is different – I certainly don’t need any vegetables on my plate that will make the nausea worse.’
‘Suzie.’ I look up at Daniel. Oh no. Not here. I don’t want a confrontation in front of anyone. ‘I think Charlie can decide what she eats for herself, don’t you?’ Daniel smiles.
I glance gratefully at him, but he still won’t catch my eye. And suddenly, I realise, that’s it. That’s what I want. I want to be respected. I want someone to fight my corner. I want to be part of a team, something that is greater than the sum of its parts – united. A wave of something like recognition, of longing, sweeps over me, realising that a feeling of safety, of belonging, of ‘coming home’ doesn’t need to be about physical things: where you live, where you’re from. It’s all about who you’re with, how they make you feel, the sense of a partnership with someone who makes you feel special. The only trouble is, that very person I feel so at home with probably hates me now, is probably churning it all over in his mind and wondering how fast he can leave.
Suzie just glares at me and starts to shovel food from her plate onto Rex’s. ‘Not hungry, sorry,’ she says to Dawn as she thumps her gold-rimmed plate back in front of her.
