A Very Lucky Christmas

by A Very Lucky Christmas (retail) (epub)

  He shouted for a nurse, who popped her head in through the curtain. Daisy could have sworn she heard the words “metal detector”.

  She heard right.

  ‘This is a metal detector,’ the doctor said, holding up a thick black wand. ‘Lie down on the bed,’ he instructed.

  She lay down and he waved it over her chest to just below her rib cage. It beeped immediately, and the doctor swiftly moved the machine away. The whole thing was over in a couple of seconds.

  ‘The coin is in your upper digestive tract,’ he said. ‘It will slowly move through it over the course of the next few days, and you should expel it as a matter of course.’

  Expel it. He meant poop it out. Gross. And if he thought she was going to fish around in the toilet, looking for it, the doctor had another thing coming.

  ‘Keep a close eye on your stools,’ Dr Hartley added, ‘because if it’s not expelled you’ll need to come back. Give it a week to ten days, and of course, if you are at all anxious, then pop back in.’

  Davie stepped forward and offered the other man his hand. ‘Thank you, doctor.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Dr Hartley said. ‘Make sure you keep a close eye on her, and bring her straight back if you’re at all worried about her.’

  ‘Oh, er, right. I’ll tell our mother.’

  The doctor gave David a confused look. ‘If that’s all?’ he said.

  Daisy and David took the hint and left.

  Chapter 11

  ‘How are you feeling?’ David asked as they made their way to the car.

  ‘Stupid,’ Daisy said. ‘So much for a lucky sixpence. The damned thing nearly killed me.’

  ‘Look on the bright side, it could have done exactly that.’

  Daisy grimaced at the thought of being remembered as that girl whose boyfriend cheated on her with a bloke, and who then choked to death on an old coin. Everyone would be laughing their way to the cemetery.

  ‘Oh bugger, look at that,’ her brother said, as they stepped through the sliding doors and out into a night filled with thick, white flakes falling from a leaden sky. ‘I’m never going to get Gee-Gee back to the old people’s home in this. I don’t even know if we can make it back to Mum’s. We might have to walk.’

  The idea of tramping over two miles in sodden, freezing slippers was unbearable, and Daisy burst into tears. It appeared the sixpence was intent on killing her – choking hadn’t worked, so now it was aiming for death by hypothermia or pneumonia instead.

  David hovered at her elbow, and when she saw the concern in his eyes, she cried even harder.

  ‘Let’s give driving a go,’ he offered, when she pointed wordlessly to her feet and he realised what she was wearing on them.

  Daisy skidded and slipped towards the car and by the time she’d plonked down into the passenger seat her feet were soaked and her teeth were chattering. Saint David, ever the considerate one, turned the heating on to full and aimed the blasts of air at her legs.

  She knew she really must stop calling him Saint David, but she couldn’t help feeling a little resentful towards the brother who seemed to have everything that Daisy herself wanted, and was an honestly nice person into the bargain. Maybe if she was more like him, she’d have better luck, and not have to rely on a murdering sixpence.

  David eased the car out of the car park and onto the main road. Thankfully the gritters had been out, but the snow fell faster than the rock-salt melted it, and the tracks of earlier vehicles were quickly filling up.

  Perhaps not hypothermia then – maybe a car accident. She just hoped David wouldn’t be hurt; he had a wife and an unborn baby to think of.

  Daisy prayed silently to God, Lady Luck, Fate, or whoever was listening, “take me, and only me”, and her heart was in her mouth when the back wheels skidded as the car negotiated a roundabout. ‘Spare my brother…’

  ‘What?’ David asked.

  Oops, she didn’t realise she’d said it aloud. ‘Nothing.’

  Feet pressed firmly on the floor, “braking” when she thought David should slow down, Daisy gripped her seatbelt in one hand and the door handle in the other, bracing for an imminent impact.

  None came, and when David finally eased the car into a parking spot outside their mother’s house and switched the engine off, Daisy leaned across and gave her brother an impulsive kiss on the cheek.

  ‘What was that for?’ he asked, warily.

  ‘Because you’re my brother and I love you,’ Daisy said, wondering what on earth had gotten into her, even as the words left her lips.

  ‘Love you too, Daisy-chain,’ he said, and her eyes filled with unshed tears. It had been many years since he’d called her by her old nickname, and she remembered sunny school holidays when they’d picked daisies out of the lawn to make those unending chains.

  Life had seemed much simpler then.

  ‘Thanks for coming with me, and sorry for spoiling Christmas Day,’ she said.

  ‘It was the least I could do for my sister,’ he replied, his fingers touching his cheek where she’d kissed him, and a warmth filled her heart.

  It soon dispersed when they entered the house.

  ‘Still alive, I see,’ Sandra said dryly, spotting Daisy trotting up the stairs to change into a pair of dry socks.

  And when she came back into the living room, David had already told everyone about the hospital visit, including what she was expected to do to determine the reappearance of the coin.

  The laughter increased as soon as her family saw her.

  ‘I take it you’re all laughing at me,’ Daisy said with a scowl. ‘Thanks a lot.’

  Sandra, slightly red in the face with mirth, bit her lip and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a minute later with a pair of rubber gloves, a bowl, and a wooden spoon.

  ‘Here, you can use these,’ she said grimly, handing them to Daisy. ‘I don’t want them back. And make sure you wash your hands thoroughly.’

  What was she, three-years-old? She always washed her hands. Ew!

  ‘Can I tell everyone we’ve got a real-life shit-stirrer in the family?’ Elsie asked, almost doubled up with laughter.

  ‘Mum! Don’t be so crude,’ Sandra said, but she was almost wetting herself too, as she stood there cross-legged and practically cross-eyed.

  Daisy growled, and stuck her nose in the air, trying to ignore them. There was no point leaving the room, they’d only catch her later. Might as well let them get it all out of their systems now.

  ‘I want regular updates, mind,’ Gee-Gee said, ‘because I want that sixpence back. It’s my last one.’

  Daisy shuddered.

  ‘That’s nasty,’ Elsie said, and for once everyone else agreed with her.

  ‘I’ll get you another one off the internet,’ Daisy said through gritted teeth.

  ‘It won’t be the same,’ Gwenda protested. ‘That sixpence was the last one my da ever gave to me.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have put it in the pudding, then.’ Daisy pointed out.

  ‘I wouldn’t have, if I knew you were going to swallow it.’

  ‘Believe me, I didn’t mean to.’ Daisy huffed. Not only was she having to check for hidden treasure whenever she went to the loo, but she was also now expected to fish it out, give it a rinse, and hand it back.

  Words failed her.

  But they didn’t fail her great-gran. ‘David, I think it’s time to take me back. I don’t want to still be here when our Daisy goes poo-mining.’

  Poo-mining? Charming!

  ‘That might be a bit of a problem, Gee-Gee,’ David said, after he’d stopped laughing. ‘It’s snowing a blizzard out there.’

  Everyone took a minute to think about that, then Sandra heaved out a sigh. ‘You’re going to have to stay here, then. All of you. Mum will have to sleep with me, David and Zoe can sleep in Mum’s bed, and Gee-Gee can have Daisy’s.’

  ‘Where will I sleep?’ Daisy asked, plaintively.

  ‘The sofa.’

  Daisy rolled her eye
s. The day was going from bad to worse.

  She helped her mother put fresh sheets on all the beds after the family belatedly opened their presents. Once supper was done and the rubbish the TV showed on public holidays had been watched and commented on, it was up to David to carry Gwenda up the stairs (or was it “stagger”, because for such a little thing, Gee-Gee weighed a ton, as David pointed out several times).

  ‘What are they feeding you in that home?’ David puffed, half-way up the stairs, and having to stop for a breather.

  Both Sandra and Elsie were poised behind him, in case he dropped the old lady, or fell backwards, though what use they were going to be if he did, baffled Daisy. The most likely scenario was that everyone would fall down the stairs, resulting in a load of broken bones and another trip to A&E. And it would probably be Daisy, because the way her luck was going, they’d all land on her.

  She shuffled back a step or two, then lost interest when David summited the landing to a round of applause, and she joined Zoe in the living room.

  ‘Congratulations,’ she said, belatedly, and Zoe smiled her thanks.

  ‘I’m going for the first scan next week,’ the younger woman told her, and that was the most Daisy had ever heard her say.

  Having little, or no clue regarding pregnancy and childbirth, Daisy said, ‘Can you find out what it is then?’

  Zoe shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Anyway, we want it to be a surprise.’ She ran a hand tenderly over her still-flat stomach.

  Daisy thought about her own not-so-flat tummy and tried to suck the flab in. Anyone comparing the two women would think Daisy was the pregnant one, not Zoe. She discreetly undid the button on her trousers once more, and breathed a little easier. Her New Year’s resolution was to join the gym.

  David, duty finished for the moment, came into the room and sat next to his wife on the sofa, putting an arm around her, and Daisy watched enviously as Zoe snuggled into him. David whispered in her ear, and Zoe giggled.

  Daisy missed having someone to cuddle with, someone to snuggle on the sofa with and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

  Oh, who was she kidding? Freddie had never been a sweet-nothings kind of guy. Or maybe it wasn’t her he wanted to whisper them to.

  After the rest of the family had turned in for the night, Daisy spread the spare duvet on the sofa and lay under it, watching a re-run of White Christmas, thinking this must be the worst Christmas she could ever remember having, and except for the wonderful news that her brother was about to become a dad of course, the day couldn’t have been any worse. Thankfully it was almost over, only another hour to go, and Daisy could forget all about it until next year. And to think, she used to love Christmas!

  Daisy found herself looking forward to being an aunt. She vowed to be the best aunt in the world, a fun aunt, the sort of aunt who her niece or nephew would love to be around. After all, this might be the closest she’d get to having a child of her own, with the way her love life was going. Daisy intended to let him, or her, stay up past their bedtime, feed them popcorn and chocolate on the sly, and take them ice-skating (not that Daisy had ever been on an ice-rink in her life). She’d let them—

  ‘Elsie?’

  Daisy sat up.

  ‘Elsie?’ Gee-Gee’s mournful voice floated down the stairs. ‘Sandra?’

  Daisy waited for her mum or nan to get up to see what her great-gran wanted.

  ‘Anyone?’ The voice sounded desperate.

  Daisy let out a sigh and pushed the duvet off. Everyone was obviously fast asleep or, more likely, ignoring Gwenda, in the hope that someone else would see to her. Clearly that someone was going to be Daisy.

  ‘What is it, Gee-Gee?’ she whispered, pushing open the bedroom door.

  Even though the bed was a single, Gwenda looked tiny in it, like a child, and Daisy had a brief flash of how David’s son or daughter would appear in it, when he or she slept over. Without the wrinkles, of course, and the wispy white perm.

  ‘I really wanted your mother or your nan,’ Gwenda said.

  ‘They’re asleep, so you’ve got me instead. What do you need, Gee-Gee?’

  ‘The toilet.’

  ‘Righto,’ Daisy said, taking a deep breath and letting it out in false bravado. ‘Let’s get you out of bed, shall we?’ This wasn’t a task she particularly relished, and she hadn’t been called on to take her great-gran for a wee all that often, the job usually falling to Sandra or Elsie, but she knew she could do this.

  She pulled the duvet back, revealing Gee-Gee’s skinny, wrinkled knees and helped the old lady swing her legs over the side of the bed. Then she heaved Gee-Gee’s top half up until she was sitting upright.

  They both paused for a breather for a moment, before Daisy hoisted her great-gran into a standing position, one arm under the other woman’s armpits and thinking David was right, that Gee-Gee did weigh as much as a small pony.

  She waited until Gee-Gee had steadied herself, then the pair of them shuffled painfully slowly towards the bathroom.

  Here comes the bit I really don’t like, Daisy thought, as she helped her great-gran hike up her borrowed nightie and pull her knickers down. Then she lowered the old lady carefully onto the toilet seat, while trying to keep her gaze averted, as much for Gee-Gee’s dignity as for Daisy’s sanity.

  Daisy tore off a couple of sheets of loo paper and handed them to Gwenda.

  ‘I’m going to need more than that,’ Gee-Gee announced.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘And I’m going to need you to do something else for me.’

  ‘Anything, Gee-Gee. What is it?’

  The old woman still had her dentures in – she probably wanted Daisy to put them in a glass for her, and Daisy tried not to show her dismay at the thought of cleaning another person’s teeth.

  ‘I’m going to need you to wipe my arse,’ Gwenda said. ‘I’ve got to do a big jobbie.’

  Oh, the gods must be laughing at Daisy – could it get any worse, indeed!

  It could, and it did, as Gee-Gee let out a tremendous fart, followed by hideous plopping sounds.

  Ew.

  Chapter 12

  ‘And have you been, you know… grubbing around looking for it?’ Melissa asked, wiping the tears from her eyes. Her face had gone an odd shade of purple.

  Daisy didn’t think the story was that funny, but Melissa had laughed so hard she’d snorted coffee through her nose and had nearly gotten them thrown out of the café.

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy replied, stiffly.

  ‘I’ve never heard of anyone shitting silver before,’ Melissa chortled.

  ‘Don’t be so crude,’ Daisy said. ‘Anyway, it hasn’t made an appearance yet.’

  ‘How long has it been?’

  ‘Three days.’ Three long, rather disgusting days. ‘It was so embarrassing,’ Daisy said.

  ‘I bet they see that sort of thing every day,’ Melissa said, stirring the coffee dregs in her cup.

  ‘Yeah, but I was still mortified.’ Daisy grimaced. ‘Dr Hartley said—’

  ‘Dr Hartley?’ Melissa interrupted.

  ‘The guy who examined me.’

  ‘Is that really his name? I bet he wished he was a heart doctor,’ she chortled.

  ‘He could have my heart any day,’ Daisy muttered. ‘And any other part of me, for that matter.’

  ‘Oh, he was cute, was he? No wonder you were embarrassed.’

  ‘I suppose, but he was more interested in my bowels than my face.’

  ‘So he should be – he’s a doctor!’

  ‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Doctors are men, too.’

  ‘Yes, but you were also his patient and I don’t think that kind of thing is allowed.’

  Daisy sighed. ‘I expect you’re right. Besides, Freddie has put me off men for life.’

  ‘Don’t give up on love just because of one bad experience,’ Melissa protested. ‘Go on, tell me what this doctor of yours looked like.’

  ‘You know the guy out of Grimm?�
�

  ‘The one who turns into a kind of wolf-thing?’

  ‘No, not him, the other one, the Grimm himself, David Giuntoli. Think of him with a beard. Dark hair, blue eyes, all intense and… doctory.’

  ‘Dr Hartley,’ Melissa crooned. ‘Dr Loveheart, instead of Burkhardt.’

  ‘Doctor-rummage-around-in-your-own-poo, you mean.’

  ‘The fact that you fancy him proves you’ve not lost your mojo,’ Melissa pointed out.

  ‘Just because I look, doesn’t mean I want to touch,’ Daisy said.

  ‘Oh, but you do, my lovely. I can see it in your eyes. They’ve gone all gooey.’

  ‘It’s not goo, it’s realising what the time is. We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late back and the Grumpmeister will have a good reason to be grumpy.’

  ‘Do we have to? I’m still in Christmas mode.’

  It was that dead time (work-wise) between Christmas and New Year, when people were still recovering from the last round of festivities while gearing up for the next lot. She had no idea why the company insisted on opening the offices. Surely the management could tell they’d get little or no work out of their employees until January. But needs must, as they say, and if she wanted to keep her job then she had to return from lunch. Anyway, look what happened the last time she’d had a half day – Freddiegate.

  ‘Yes.’ Daisy was firm. ‘I want to be paid at the end of the month, and I’ve now got a deposit on a house to save for.’

  ‘Okay, since you put it like that…’

  The two women were back at work in record time, though Daisy thought her calf muscles might take a while to recover from the mad dash. Even so, Grumpmeister, a.k.a. Simon, their manager, was staring fixedly at the clock.

  He pointed at Daisy and jerked a thumb at his office.

  ‘Great, a meeting with the most miserable man on the planet. Just what I need,’ Daisy muttered, throwing her bag under her desk and stomping in the direction her boss had indicated.

  She hated these meetings, especially when it was only him and her. He usually picked one of these little tête-à-têtes to lay some new task on her, like the musical card fiasco which he expected her to magic out of thin air. She wrote poems and little verses, not music, for goodness’ sake!