“Wow, was that only last night?”
Arabella looked down at Rebecca and nodded her head. “Yes, it’s hard to believe that twenty-four hours ago we were in a creepy French château. Wondering whether the husband even existed.”
Rebecca laughed. She stood up and gathered their empty mugs. “I’m sure he was just busy, or shy.”
“Yeah, sure he was,” Arabella muttered with a sly smile.
Chapter Twenty-One
The visitors’ room was just as dire as Arabella expected it to be. It had no windows and was lit by dim lamps that appeared to have been donated to the hospital directly after the War.
Three uncomfortable-looking sofas, two ugly armchairs, and a stack of blue rubber-coated mattresses filled the room. A door led to an en-suite bathroom.
Arabella wondered, not for the first time, or even the tenth time, what exactly she was doing. She wanted to stay, that much was obvious to her. But why she wished to stay still wasn’t entirely clear.
Rebecca stood in the middle of the room, her hands tucked into her jeans pockets. She looked around the room apologetically.
“So, this is it,” Rebecca said. “As I said, it’s not much. But it’s better than sleeping in the chair in Mum’s room.”
Arabella placed her bag on an armchair and sat on the edge of one of the sofas. She balanced her crutch on the wall beside her and started to remove her shoes. Rebecca walked over to a cupboard and open the door to reveal some sheets and pillows.
“It just sucks that it’s happening at this time of year, you know?” Rebecca said. “Mum has always loved Christmas. It’s always been her favourite time of year. We had so many traditions, things we’d always do. I know lots of families do; I suppose that’s what makes Christmas what it is.”
Arabella’s family had never really had Christmas traditions. At least not anything that would find its way into a cute holiday movie. She took the offered pillow and sheet from Rebecca and made herself comfortable on her temporary bed.
“We always have mince pies. And Christmas cake. We eat far too much food,” Rebecca said. “Not that we’ll be doing any of that this year.”
Arabella remained silent. She got the impression that Rebecca very rarely spoke about what was happening. Arabella would let her speak. Partly because she knew Rebecca needed; to get it all out. And partly because she had no idea what else to say.
She was still discovering how little she knew about Rebecca, how she had no idea how to comfort the girl. But, for some reason, Rebecca seemed to appreciate her presence. As long as that was the case, Arabella would stay.
“Mum’s not really got much of an appetite at the moment,” Rebecca explained. “I know she’d want me to have a normal Christmas. I don’t think I can.”
“I think you have to do what’s right for you,” Arabella said. “I know you’re trying to do what’s right for your mum, and that’s important. But you have to look after yourself as well.”
“That’s what Mum keeps saying,” Rebecca said.
Rebecca turned around and started making up a bed on the sofa opposite Arabella. Arabella watched as she quickly laid the sheet down, tucking it into each corner as if she had done a hundred times before. Rebecca sat down, removed her boots, and stretched on the sofa, reaching her arms above her.
Arabella watched, unable to drag her eyes away from Rebecca. She wanted to help, but she had no idea how. She could see that the girl was tense, ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice. She couldn’t blame her, but she knew Rebecca had to rest.
The worst was yet to come.
“Get some sleep,” Arabella instructed.
Rebecca looked at her and let out a sigh. “I don’t think I’ll be able to,” she admitted.
Arabella could see the exhaustion in Rebecca’s face. She knew that the girl would fall asleep within seconds once she permitted herself to.
Arabella adjusted her sheeting and pillow and laid herself down. In a million years she never would have thought that she would be spending Christmas Eve on a second-hand sofa in a hospital waiting room. With a woman she barely knew.
Maybe it was the feeling of doing something for someone else, of doing something charitable, but it felt like the right thing to do.
“Just close your eyes,” Arabella said softly. “Think of all those things about Christmas that you love.” She sighed dramatically. “All those sugary treats, pies, and cakes, ridiculous paper hats, and whatever other ludicrous traditions that you hold so dear.”
Rebecca snorted a laugh.
Arabella smiled. She turned her head, seeing that Rebecca was still staring up at the ceiling.
“I’m pretty sure I just told you to close your eyes.”
Rebecca turned to regard her and slowly nodded her head. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“It’s Christmas Day, so imagine that Father Christmas—”
“Santa,” Rebecca corrected.
Arabella chuckled. “Very well, Santa, is making his way around the world delivering presents all the good boys and girls. Is that not how it goes?”
“Something like that,” Rebecca agreed.
“Eating one hundred metric tons of Christmas treats and drinking gallons of milk or brandy, depending on the property value of the house he is visiting.”
“This bedtime story is a little different to what I remember from being a kid,” Rebecca said with a laugh.
“Well, it’s the one you’re getting. Now, stop interrupting. I’m pretty sure that there is something about reindeer.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Distant noises began to invade the quiet space, but Rebecca was used to it. The sounds of the nurses beginning their day, usually at an ungodly hour, had become her new alarm clock. She turned to lay on her back. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.
Another day, she told herself. Christmas Day.
As she started to remember the events of the previous day, her head snapped around to look at the other sofa.
She winced.
Arabella was gone. Folded sheets sat atop a pillow on the arm of the sofa.
She blew out a breath. She couldn’t blame the woman. At least she had waited until she had gone to sleep.
She looked at her watch. Her eyebrows rose in shock, it was already nine! She couldn’t believe she had slept so long. She hadn’t had a full night of sleep for weeks. She quickly felt guilty, her mum would have been woken that morning by a nurse.
She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her face. She pulled on her boots, stood up, and gathered the linens from her bed. She rolled them into a ball and threw them on top of Arabella’s neatly folded sheets. She’d deal with them later. Right now, she had to pretend to enjoy what was bound to be the worst Christmas of her life.
She put her hand on the door handle and paused while she took a deep breath. Once she had exhaled, she put a smile on her face and walked out of the room.
She turned the corner and walked the few steps up the corridor towards her mother’s room. The moment she crossed the threshold, she froze. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at the room in shock.
“Morning, darling, Merry Christmas,” her mum said.
Rebecca tore her eyes away from the rest of the room and looked at her mother. She was so stunned she couldn’t form any words.
“Isn’t it amazing? It was all Lucy, you know.”
“L-Lucy?” Rebecca stammered.
She looked around the room, tinsel and brightly coloured paper decorations had been hung. A tacky blow-up Christmas tree, complete with integrated hanging decorations, sat in pride of place on the table in front of the window. Another table was filled with Christmas treats, mince pies, Christmas cake, cookies, and lots more. A bottle of champagne, and what looked like non-alcoholic wine, sat on the bedside table beside some crystal-cut champagne flutes.
“Yes, she bought too much tinsel so her and Abigail, you know the new morning nurse, have gone to share the wealth with the main w
ard.”
Rebecca looked to her mother. She was sat up in bed, a paper hat on her head. In her lap, a box of her favourite Christmas chocolates. And, much to Rebecca’s amazement and relief, she seemed to have eaten a few.
It almost looked normal. If you could ignore the hospital bed and equipment, it could nearly be a real Christmas. Rebecca felt tears start to flood her eyes and quickly turned away. Crying was not allowed. She knew that once she started, she wouldn’t stop.
“We thought we’d let you sleep in,” her mum said. “Get some rest after your long trip.”
Rebecca pretended to analyse the blow-up Christmas tree, she smiled at the very thought of Arabella puffing out her cheeks, blowing up the hideous, tacky decoration.
“Thank you,” Rebecca said.
“She cares about you,” her mum said. “A lot.”
Rebecca didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say. Maybe Arabella did care about her, maybe it was some kind of guilt. At this point she didn’t know. And that probably wasn’t going to change in the near future either.
“Ah, you’re up.”
Rebecca turned around to see Arabella walking into the room. A chuckle escaped Rebecca’s lips as she noted the paper hat on her head.
“One word about what is on top of my head, and you will regret it,” Arabella said with a smirk.
Rebecca held up her hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, but she was unable to keep the smile off her face.
“I was worried you’d sleep away Christmas,” Arabella gently chided.
Rebecca noticed Arabella looking towards her mother with a frown. Arabella walked over to the side of the bed and took the box of chocolates away from the sleeping woman.
“She’s been drifting in and out all morning,” she explained. She placed the chocolates on the bedside table. Then she picked up a mince pie and held out towards Rebecca. “Breakfast?”
“When did you do all this?” Rebecca took the mince pie and started to peel the foil tray away from the delicious pastry goodness.
“I woke up early, I thought I might as well get a start on making Christmas. I may not have a white fluffy beard and wear a red suit, but I thought I’d do.”
“You do,” Rebecca whispered. “Thank you for this, it’s… incredible.”
“Well, it’s only just started,” Arabella said.
“Shouldn’t you be getting home? Aren’t they going to miss you?”
Rebecca really didn’t want to bring it up. She didn’t want Arabella to go, but she also didn’t want Arabella to feel obligated to stay. Because surely that could be the only reason that she was staying?
“I keep telling you, I’m staying,” Arabella said. “Now, come on, I have something for you.”
“For me?” Rebecca frowned.
“Yes, for you. Come on.” Arabella turned on her crutch and walked out of the room. Rebecca quickly followed her, surprised at the speed with which Arabella could move when she wanted to.
They walked down the corridor and back towards the visitors’ room. Rebecca wondered what else Arabella had up her sleeve.
Arabella opened the door and walked in. She paused in the middle of the room and nodding her head towards a wrapped Christmas present on Rebecca’s sofa. Rebecca stared at the present. She hadn’t even thought of getting or giving any presents this year. Seeing a Christmas present beautifully wrapped, with ribbons and a bow, took her by surprise.
“Don’t just stare at it,” Arabella said. She placed her crutch next to her sofa and sat down.
“You got me a present?” Rebecca asked.
“Well, the evidence would indicate that that is the case, wouldn’t it?” Arabella rolled her eyes.
“Why did you get me a present?”
“Because it’s Christmas,” Arabella replied. “Are you going to open it or not?”
Rebecca sat tentatively next to the box.
“I promise it’s not a porcelain doll.”
Rebecca chuckled. She gently picked it up and placed it on her lap. She found the ends of the ribbon and delicately pulled. She felt like such a fraud, ordinarily she would have ripped the parcel open in seconds. But in Arabella’s presence, with the older woman still dressed to the nines from her Christmas Eve party, Rebecca acted with a decorum she never knew she had.
After carefully removing the ribbon, she searched for where the paper had been taped down and began to slowly pick at the tape.
“We’ll be here all day if that’s how you open gifts,” Arabella commented.
“Shush you.”
Rebecca sped up slightly, starting to rip the paper. Excitement was building within her, but she tried to keep it down. After all, it was quite likely that Arabella had bought her a joke gift. She removed the wrapping paper and put it to one side. A plain cardboard box sat in her lap.
“I put it in that box, so it would be easier to wrap,” Arabella explained.
Rebecca open the top of the box. She peered inside and saw a label. Her eyes widened in surprise. She reached her hand into the box and pulled out the contents. The box dropped to her feet, and she stared at the Manfrotto backpack.
“It’s better than that tatty old rucksack you have,” Arabella said. “You wouldn’t want to damage your camera.”
Rebecca turned the camera bag over in her hands, examining it from all angles. It was perfect. It would perfectly contain all of her travel things, with a safe space for her camera, lenses, and equipment. She knew because she had longingly stared at it in a shop window for a number of months. The hefty price tag always made it an impossible purchase.
“I can’t accept this, I know what this cost,” Rebecca said. She looked up at Arabella. “How did you even manage to get it?”
Arabella spread her hands in obvious gesture. “This is London. You can get anything at any time.”
“It’s incredibly generous, too generous. I’m sorry I can’t accept it.”
“You can accept it, and you will. In the not-too-distant future the handle on your rucksack will snap and your camera, and your livelihood, will be broken. Besides, it’s Christmas.”
“I didn’t get you anything.” Rebecca stared back down at the bag. Her fingers ran over the logo.
“You’re sharing Christmas with me. And let’s not forget, you drove me home from Faro.”
Rebecca laughed. “You paid for the car,” she reminded Arabella.
“I had no idea how argumentative you could be,” Arabella said. “I might just complain to your mother. Accept the damn bag.”
Rebecca gripped the bag lovingly and bit her lip. Arabella was right, her rucksack was dangerously in need of repair. It wouldn’t be long before it broke, she’d been lucky that it hadn’t broken and damaged her camera equipment already.
“Thank you, really, thank you… for everything. I don’t know how you did this, but I really appreciate it.”
Arabella smiled. “Well, when you get up at a reasonable time and set your mind to something, you can get a hell of a lot done.”
“So I see!” She hugged her bag to her chest. It smelt of future adventures.
“I arranged for a Christmas dinner to be delivered to the ward. Yes, I spoke with the head nurse first. I imagine whatever they had planned to serve would have been… shall we say, less than desirable? Anyway, it’s on the way and hopefully we can convince your mother to have a couple of bites.”
Rebecca blinked. “Y-you arranged for Christmas dinner to be delivered to the entire ward?”
Arabella grabbed her crutch and pushed herself off the sofa to stand. “Yes, as I said, when you get up at a reasonable time you can get a hell of a lot done.”
“Did you get any sleep?” Rebecca asked.
“Some.” Arabella nodded. “But, to be honest, sleep escapes me at the moment.”
Rebecca assumed as much. Arabella did seem to be a woman escaping from something. She’d watched the interaction between Arabella and Alastair with great interest. Of course, she had never made her
dislike of the man a secret. And she had to admit she had been secretly pleased to see them argue, especially to see Arabella stand up for herself. She knew Arabella could do better. Much better.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rebecca said.
Arabella shrugged. “It is what it is. But at least that means I get to spend Christmas here, as long as you’ll still have me?”
“Absolutely, you’re like my very own little Santa,” she joked.
Arabella rolled her eyes. “Careful, I could still go home, you know.”
“Please don’t,” tumbled from Rebecca’s lips before she had time to stop it. “I mean, if you still want to stay, I’d still like you to be here.”
Arabella looked down at her kindly. “I still want to stay.”
Rebecca chuckled bitterly. “I honestly can’t think why, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“I know things are grim. But no matter what happens, your mum smiled this morning. She ate some Christmas chocolates, and, for a couple of moments, things seemed normal. That’s what you need to hold onto.”
Rebecca put her bag to the side and stood up. “You’re right. Let’s go and be festive.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Arabella stood outside the hospital’s main entrance. She pulled the jacket she had borrowed from Rebecca around her shoulders.
Snow had been falling steadily for the last few hours. She looked out at the snow-covered car park in front of her. Any other day it would have been a beautiful sight, a perfect wintry Christmas scene. But this wasn’t any other day; this was the day that Rebecca had lost her mother.
It happened so fast. One moment they were eating Christmas dinner, drinking the non-alcoholic wine, reminiscing about Christmases gone by. The next Allison’s eyes had started to flutter closed. A few moments later, she opened her eyes and started to look around in confusion. Something had clearly been wrong. Rebecca rushed to get a nurse.
The Road Ahead Page 12
