Their First Family Christmas

by Alison Roberts

  Oh, no... Emma bit her lip. She had never thought Jack was going to see those but he was unwrapping the little parcel.

  ‘They’re for the top of the tree,’ she said quietly. ‘Just for us...’

  ‘They’re like the figures people put on the top of wedding cakes.’ Jack seemed transfixed by the ornaments. ‘Except they’re angels.’

  ‘Mmm...’ Emma couldn’t say anything else for a moment. Would Jack see the significance of the blonde hair and blue eyes on the mummy angel and the shaggy dark hair and brown eyes on the daddy one?

  His voice was no more than a whisper—as if he was talking to himself. ‘They’re Ben and Sarah, aren’t they?’

  Lily had stopped playing with the other ornaments. She wriggled closer to Jack and reached out to touch one of the angels.

  ‘That’s mummy angel, isn’t it?’ Emma said softly. ‘Lily’s mummy.’

  ‘Mumma,’ Lily said. But she was looking at Emma as she smiled.

  ‘And there’s a daddy angel, too. Lily’s daddy.’

  ‘Dadda,’ Lily said happily. But she wasn’t looking at Emma now. She was looking at Jack.

  And he was looking back at her.

  There was a moment’s silence. A long moment that suddenly felt way too significant. Emma could almost feel Jack’s shock—as if he’d been whisked into some alternative universe.

  She had to break it. Leaning down, she grabbed a handful of the ornaments.

  ‘Let’s get these onto the tree.’

  Looping the gold cords over the ends of branches gave them both something to do that meant they didn’t have to look at each other and Lily crawled back and forth, fetching more ornaments from the pile. By tacit consent, the very top of the tree was left until last and that was when Emma finally risked a direct glance at Jack. She had the Sarah angel in her hand and he was holding the Ben angel. They were standing side by side, their hands almost touching as they found a place to attach the ornaments.

  ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Emma asked softly. ‘You don’t think it’s a bit over the top?’

  ‘I think it’s very, very special,’ he said. ‘And I also think that you’re the only person in the world who would have thought of it.’

  He leaned closer. Maybe he’d intended to kiss her cheek, but Emma turned her head and his lips touched hers. And lingered long enough for it to feel like something significant.

  ‘Well, that’s the turkey in the oven and the bread sauce done...’

  The sound of her mother’s voice ended the kiss as unexpectedly as it had started and Emma felt her cheeks really burning as she concentrated on fastening her angel to the branch. How much had Muriel seen?

  ‘I thought you might both need a nice cup of tea and some shortbread by now.’

  If she had witnessed that moment of closeness, Muriel wasn’t letting on. She had a tray in her hands. ‘Mind out, Lily. This is hot... And, Jack?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If you’re up to it, I could do with some help peeling potatoes soon. After presents, of course.’

  ‘I’m good at potatoes.’ Emma received a ghost of a wink. ‘It’s one of my splinter skills.’ Jack stepped away from the tree. ‘Let me help you with that tray.’

  * * *

  Lily absolutely loved her gift from Jack.

  Up till now, she’d been more interested in the wrapping paper as Emma had helped her unwrap other presents. There were crayons and colouring-in books, pink fairy wings that she was now wearing, lots of picture books and even a little red trolley that she could fill with toys and push along. There’d been gifts that Emma and her mother had given each other as well and it had been a time-consuming process but Jack had been happy enough to sit and watch, almost half-asleep, until his own gift had been the last to be presented.

  ‘This is from Uncle Jack,’ Emma told Lily. ‘See if you can open it by yourself this time. Look, I’ll start you off.’ She lifted a piece of sticky tape and pulled back a corner of the parcel to reveal a fluffy, yellow ear.

  Lily did the rest, her eyes widening as she saw all the bright colours. Instead of being instantly distracted by something else, as she had been with her earlier gifts, she seemed entranced by this one and had to touch every part of it.

  Who knew how proud it could make you feel having clearly provided the gift of the day?

  Muriel and Emma had been just as impressed by the ‘learn to dress’ teddy bear.

  ‘Look, Lilypad...it’s wearing dungarees, just like you.’ Emma tickled the bib of Lily’s dungarees. ‘Only yours don’t have a zip.’

  ‘’Ip!’ Lily grinned. She pulled the shoelace undone on one of the bear’s feet. The shoe on the other foot had a plastic buckle. Tiny fingers pulled at the buckle but Jack could see that you needed to unthread the soft strap to open it so he showed Lily how it worked.

  ‘Looks like you’ve got yourself a job.’ Muriel smiled. ‘You stay here and Emma and I will sort the rest of our Christmas lunch.’

  Lily seemed more than happy with the arrangement. ‘More,’ she commanded. ‘’Ip now.’

  So Jack undid the zip and Lily crowed with laughter.

  It was the first time he’d heard Lily laugh and the sound did something odd. It was such a happy sound and yet Jack could feel the prickle of distant tears.

  Good grief...what was going on here?

  There’d been a moment earlier when he’d almost panicked and wondered if he could find an excuse to escape.

  When Lily had looked straight at him and called him Dadda.

  It had pierced him like an arrow straight to his heart.

  Because of the angels. Because he was thinking about Ben and what a proud daddy his brother would have been.

  Except it hadn’t felt like that in that first instant. Hearing that word with that little face so close to his own had almost made him feel like a daddy himself. For one, blinding moment, he could understand what it would be like to love and be loved by a tiny human. How it could become the centre of your universe.

  As it had for Emma?

  That had been another startling revelation. A year ago, he would have laughed at the idea of Emma Matthews sitting at home like a nana, making tiny, felt toys to hang on a Christmas tree. It summed up just how much her life had changed and that change had happened because she had chosen to devote her life to a tiny, orphaned child. Her goddaughter. His niece...

  Lily had finally worked out how to do the zip up. And then she pulled it down and laughed again.

  And again, the sound undid something inside Jack’s chest. As if his heart had a matching zipper and something had opened.

  He could choose to devote his life to this delightful child.

  He could love her with all his heart.

  And then Jack remembered the kiss as he and Emma had been hanging those extraordinary memorial angels on the tree. How it had felt to be sharing that moment.

  He could love Emma too.

  No...

  Shaking his head made him realise he needed to take some more painkillers but the sharp escalation of his headache was a good thing, in a way. It reminded Jack that he wasn’t himself right now. That this confusing jumble of emotions that keep ambushing him were a by-product of a unique set of circumstances. It was the anniversary of a tragedy that had almost destroyed his life. It was Christmas, with all the emotions that this particular day could stir up. And not only was he injured enough to feel, to some extent, physically as well as emotionally vulnerable, he’d been transported into a place that felt more like a home than anything he could remember.

  This was only one day. He could cope and then things would start to seem normal again.

  He wouldn’t be feeling like he was being torn in half.

  He didn’t belong here. This whole jumble of home and fa
mily and love were the things that were on the other side of the barrier he could still reach out and touch. A wall of solid bricks that had been crafted from a mix of grief and fear and loneliness. A mix that was stronger than any baked clay or concrete.

  But the longing had never been this strong. It had never made him feel like he was hitting his head against that wall, again and again.

  Maybe that was what was making his headache worse.

  * * *

  ‘Did I see what I thought I saw?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mum.’ Emma could hear Lily’s laughter coming from the living room and it was making her smile. Never mind that peeling potatoes was one of Jack’s splinter skills. She was more than happy to be doing this task and leaving him to play with Lily. She just wanted to get it done as fast as possible, so she could go back and join in the fun.

  For a moment her mother’s low-voiced query had her puzzled.

  ‘You and Jack. When you were hanging the angels on the tree. Was he...kissing you when I came in?’

  ‘Um...’ Emma turned on the tap to rinse the potato. ‘You did know I used to go out with him?’

  ‘Yes. But I thought that was all over.’

  ‘It was. But then everything seemed to be all over for a while, didn’t it? Life was pretty crazy.’

  ‘I know.’ Muriel’s gaze was soft. ‘It was a terrible time—especially for you and Jack.’ She was putting the finishing touches to one of her famous trifles. ‘But he’s back now...’ Opening the door of the fridge, she tried to find room for the dessert to chill. And then she glanced at Emma again. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘Mmm...’ Emma had to look away. She didn’t want her mother to know just how good it was as far as she was concerned.

  Hope was a fragile thing and a hope this big had the potential to be crushing if it was broken. Things were changing and the hope was growing, despite warning herself that it might not be a good idea. How could it not grow, when Lily had all but called him Daddy? When Jack said things like she was the only person in the world who could have thought of something as special as the memorial angel decorations?

  When he had kissed her. Again...

  The touch of her mother’s hand on her arm was unexpected.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ Muriel said softly. ‘You’ll see... Here, I’ll finish those. I’ve just got the parsnips and brussels sprouts to do now. Isn’t it time for Lily’s nap?’

  Emma glanced at her watch. The day was speeding past, thanks to their late start. Lily did need a nap, if she was going to be awake to share their Christmas lunch.

  Heading back to the living room, she found Jack still lying on the floor with Lily. The expression on his face brought a lump to her throat. Had she not realised how sad it might be making him, being with a child who looked so like his beloved lost brother?

  Would it be too much to take him even closer to those memories?

  It might be. But then again, it could be important. For both of them. It could be the step that had to be taken in order to move forward.

  ‘You look like you need a break.’ She scooped Lily into her arms. ‘It’s time for your nap, sweetheart.’

  Her heart beating a little faster, she looked back at Jack as she left the room.

  ‘Harry needs a walk and there’s something I need to do once Lily’s asleep. I thought you might like to come with me. Get a bit of fresh air?’

  ‘Sounds like a plan.’ Jack was getting up from the floor and it was clearly painful. ‘I need to keep moving this leg, otherwise it might seize up completely.’

  ‘You’ll find Dad’s old parka hanging in the porch out the back door. I don’t guarantee the gumboots are still weatherproof but they’re out there, too. Mum reckons it’s a security thing, making it look like someone with big feet lives in the house.’

  That earned her a smile and Emma smiled back.

  Okay, she was taking a risk here. Maybe a massive risk.

  But it felt like the right thing to do.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE ONLY SOUNDS to be heard were the squeak and crunch of footsteps in a deep layer of fluffy, fresh snow and the huff of a panting dog as Harry circled back to see what was taking his people so long.

  It was no wonder that he was a little puzzled. Emma was deliberately keeping her pace a lot slower than she would normally walk. The visible puffs of Jack’s breath beside her were rapid and short enough to suggest that he was in a lot more discomfort than he was about to admit to.

  It was just as well they didn’t have too far to go. Emma’s house was close to the outskirts of the village so they were already well on the way to her destination. Her gloved fingers closed more tightly around the scrunched top of the bag she was carrying as a niggle of doubt made her wonder again if she was really doing the right thing.

  She had planned this as a private mission. When Lily was old enough to understand, they would do it together as another, very private, Christmas tradition but this was the first time and Emma couldn’t know how it was going to affect herself, let alone Jack.

  He certainly wasn’t expecting anything confronting.

  ‘This is like being inside a Christmas card,’ he said. ‘Look at that blanket of snow on everything—it’s picture perfect.’

  It was. Pale sunshine was peeping through spaces between cotton wool clouds and the snow on every roof glistened as if embedded with microscopic diamonds. Tree branches bowed under the weight of the snow they had captured and garden shrubs were shrouded into soft shapes that disguised the stark barrenness of winter.

  A group of children were building a snowman on the sports field at the end of her street, red cheeks and bright eyes between warm woollen hats and thick scarves. An older boy hurled a snowball at the group and there was a shriek of outrage as snow found a gap to trickle down a small neck. As they turned the corner, they could hear a burst of laughter and shouts that indicated a good-natured declaration of war.

  ‘We used to do that.’ Emma smiled. ‘Sarah and me. It’s a village thing. There’s always that time to fill, waiting for Christmas lunch, and all the kids would get shooed outside to give the adults a break.’

  ‘So you’d build snowmen?’

  ‘Do you know, I can’t remember a real white Christmas? There were always things to do, though. Someone would have a new bike or scooter and we’d get to watch them learn how to ride it. One year, Sarah and I both got rollerskates and everybody watched us...’ Emma’s sigh was a happy one. ‘Good times...’

  ‘I’ll bet.’ Jack’s breath came out in a longer puff of icy mist. ‘The first time I remember having a Christmas with Ben, we were teenagers. The best gift we got was an old record player one year, with a box of albums.’

  ‘Vinyl?’ Emma grinned. ‘That was pretty retro.’

  ‘I wish I’d kept them,’ Jack said. ‘Everybody wants them now.’ He shrugged. ‘Back then, they were junk. The sort of thing you could donate to a kids’ home and not miss.’

  Emma was silent for a minute. Harry came trotting back and circled around her legs before taking off again with an excited bark. He’d made this trip many times and knew exactly where they were going.

  Jack shook his head. ‘How old did you say he was?’

  ‘Nearly sixteen.’

  ‘He’s acting like a puppy.’

  ‘Mmm. It’s always there, inside. For people as well as dogs, I reckon.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘How it feels to be young. To see the magic in things. To feel that joy.’ Emma glanced up at Jack but he was still watching Harry, who had stopped to dig in the snow. ‘We forget. Or we realise that we have to start acting like grown-ups. It’s one of the best things about being with Lily. It makes you remember. You can see things through her eyes and remember the mag
ic.’

  Jack didn’t respond so Emma touched his arm. ‘I’m sorry you and Ben had such a rough time when you were little. It really sucks.’

  ‘Yeah...’ Jack’s bare hand came out of the pocket of the parka and took hold of Emma’s. Even through the wool of her gloves, she could feel his warmth. ‘But there were good times, too. You should have seen us playing air guitar to the Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction”.’

  Emma laughed. Any doubts that it hadn’t been a good idea to bring Jack with her on this mission evaporated. The sun was still shining on them and Harry was coming back, his plume of a tail waving proudly, a large stick clamped between his jaws. And this was a new closeness with Jack that she’d never had before. How good was it that you could find something so happy to remember beneath layers of sadness? Poignant, but wonderful.

  And then she recognised the matching clipped yew trees that met in an archway over the ancient iron gate.

  And Jack realised where they were too.

  He dropped Emma’s hand abruptly. ‘Oh, my God...’ he breathed.

  Emma didn’t give him the opportunity to pause long enough to decide to turn back. She had to push hard to get the gate open against the weight of the snow and then she kept going. She didn’t look back. Maybe Jack would choose to follow her. Maybe he wouldn’t.

  There were gravestones here that dated back to the fifteenth century, so worn it was almost impossible to read the inscriptions. Even the more recent stones had deep drifts of snow on top and in front of them but Emma didn’t need to read any of the words. She knew exactly where she was going.

  To Sarah and Ben’s final resting place—off to one side at the far end of this peaceful site—beside one of the massive oak trees that closed them off from the rest of the world.

  Snow marked by nothing except the patterns of birds’ feet advertised that nobody else had been here yet today. Maybe most people preferred to simply raise a glass to family and friends that couldn’t share their celebration. Very few people were unlucky enough to have Christmas as an anniversary like this but, having been forced to become a member of such an exclusive club, it was a comfort to have someone to share it with.