Coming Home For Christmas

by Julia Williams

  She hadn’t factored in Lou Lou’s reaction to flying. They’d never taken their own children on a plane so young – life had always been fraught enough without holidays abroad – and Cat hadn’t quite twigged how much noise a pissed off toddler could make on a plane.

  A lot as it turned out.

  ‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’ Mel was holding her daughter close and soothing her with a lollipop, ‘this will help if your ears are hurting.’

  Which apparently, as the whole plane could hear, they were.

  James started pulling funny faces at her, which thankfully managed to calm her down. That was a relief. Cat had visions of them being the most unpopular family on the plane. No one liked crying children on planes, not even ones you were related to.

  Once they were safely airborne, Lou Lou settled down with pens and paper, Paige and Ruby hooked themselves into their iPods, and James and Mel sat quietly chatting. Cat leant back and relaxed her head on Noel’s shoulder.

  ‘This may well be our last family holiday,’ she said. ‘Who knows what Mel will want to do next year. We must make the most of it.’

  ‘I think they’ll be coming for a while longer yet,’ said Noel. ‘The kids keep telling me they’ll come as long as they don’t have to pay.’

  Cat laughed. ‘But you know what I mean. They’re growing up, and it’s all changing.’

  ‘I know,’ said Noel, ‘but just think, then we can go on holidays together, just the two of us.’

  ‘Now that is something worth looking forward to,’ said Cat, taking his hand. It seemed like a lifetime ago since they’d gone away on holidays, just the two of them. It would be nice to revive that lovely intimacy they’d had on trips to Greece, Portugal, Italy, when they’d been young and carefree and the thought of children was a distant fantasy. ‘Though I can’t begin to imagine it.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Noel. ‘But I shall look forward to it.’

  He raised a glass. ‘To Happy Holidays, Cat.’

  ‘Happy Holidays, Noel,’ echoed Cat.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘This is definitely the life,’ said Cat as the family sat themselves down at a restaurant by the sea, in the pretty town of Puerto de Pollensa in Majorca. All except Paige, who had been so thrilled to find a wifi link for the first time today, she was standing by the restaurant entrance happily snapchatting her friends. The sun was setting, casting golden shadows on the purple bougainvillea that covered the walled area where they were sitting, and the sea was lapping gently at the shore. Two small kittens played happily in the corner, much to Lou Lou’s delight, as she sat contentedly scribbling on some paper that Mel had brought with her, and sucking the lollipop given her by the waiter. Ruby was happy as she’d spotted pizza on the menu. She’d tried calamari this holiday, but that was the extent of her daring, pizza and chicken had remained her diet for the rest of the time. James had dashed straight into the kitchen to make friends with the chef and swap recipes, as he had in every restaurant they’d been in all holiday. He’d come back with so many tips, Cat felt a new Mediterranean cookbook coming on. Perhaps they could do it together, if James could be bothered.

  Paige, meanwhile, stunning at fourteen, was turning heads wherever they went, and enjoying the adulation much more than her parents, who were on alert to make sure she didn’t fall for some unsuitable thirty-something waiter – after Mel, Cat felt they couldn’t be too careful.

  Mel seemed to be having a nice time too, relaxing for the first time in months, and really enjoying playing with Lou Lou. It was doing them both good.

  Cat looked at her family. She was so proud of them, and so lucky to have them. It didn’t seem possible that all those years of hard work had disappeared, nor that in the next year her eldest would be beginning her own journey into the world, while her youngest was making the transition to secondary school. But it was true. And it was making Cat feel old, and besides her gorgeous daughters, ugly.

  ‘For the beautiful Mama,’ the waiter had brought her a rose. Cat thought he meant it for Mel, as had happened frequently on this holiday, but he proffered it to her.

  ‘So young for all these children,’ the waiter said gallantly.

  It was cheesy and it was a lie to butter up tourists, but who was Cat to complain? Perhaps not so old and ugly after all.

  Marianne was sitting on a freezing cold beach, having an altogether different holiday experience. Watching two miserable and cold children attempting to build sandcastles was no fun at all. She and Gabe had tried their best, but the weather was lousy, it was cold and damp, and rain was threatening from the sea.

  ‘Bugger this,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and find fish and chips.’

  Eve and Steven had elected to spend the day together, as Eve didn’t ‘do’ beaches, or at least not cold wet ones in Wales, and Marianne’s mum had looked at the weather and opted to stay in the caravan. To Marianne’s amusement, she’d muttered something about morning bingo in the bar area.

  ‘You don’t want to go back to the caravan park do you?’ said Gabriel with a grin.

  ‘No, I bloody don’t.’

  The caravan park had been a great disappointment. The play area promised in the brochure had consisted of a couple of swings, a rickety slide and a roundabout even the twins thought was boring; the indoor swimming pool was out of action, and it had been too cold to use the outdoor one. The heating in the caravan was non-existent, and they were spending a fortune on electricity cards to keep vaguely warm. They’d barely bathed the children all week, who were so hyped up from being cooped up indoors, Marianne had a feeling they were turning feral.

  ‘Hardly the Costa del Sol, is it?’ said Gabriel. ‘I know how to show you the good life.’

  ‘You certainly do. Remind me next year to say no if you mention a caravan holiday again,’ said Marianne, as they packed up and carried their junk back to the car. They got the twins’ raincoats on and brollies up just in time, as a torrential burst of rain came sweeping across the bay. It was bleakly beautiful here, with wonderful empty sandy beaches, and mountains in the background that seemed to go back as far as the eye could see. Today, they were shrouded in mist yet again. In different circumstances, Marianne might have enjoyed it, but it was hard to stay positive when you were perpetually damp and spending a fortune on staying warm and dry.

  ‘What the hell are we going to do this afternoon?’ said Gabriel as they squeezed their way into a packed fish and chip shop.

  ‘Um, let’s see’ – Marianne consulted her iPhone – ‘there’s an aquarium—’

  ‘Quariam,’ clapped Daisy.

  ‘Fishes please,’ said Harry.

  ‘Thirty miles away,’ said Marianne. Oh god, a long drive in the rain to an aquarium which probably had three fish in it. Was it worth the aggro?

  ‘It beats sitting in the caravan listening to the rain come down,’ said Gabriel, which was true. They’d spent a lot of the previous day doing that and the twins had been wild by the end of it.

  ‘True,’ said Marianne, ‘and whatever the weather, at least we’re all together.’

  And at the end of the day on a family holiday, that’s what it was all about.

  ‘So this is working out you think?’ said Dan, as he came into see the children after feeding the cows.

  ‘Yes, I think so. Come and look at the books,’ said Pippa. ‘If I can get the Halloween thing and the Winter Wonderland off the ground, we should be in a much better place than we were at the start of the year. Enough to keep the bank manager happy for a bit, at any rate. And if we carry on like it …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We might not have to sell. It’s worth the risk, don’t you think?’

  ‘What about Richard?’

  ‘Ah, Richard.’ Pippa hadn’t quite got round to telling Dan about Richard, and she’d asked the children to wait for her to find a good moment. Which this seemed to be.

  ‘What do you mean, ah Richard?’ said Dan.

  ‘He asked me to marry h
im,’ said Pippa.

  ‘Congratulations,’ said Dan. She searched his face to see if he was upset by the news, but he didn’t appear to be, particularly.

  ‘And I said no,’ finished Pippa.

  ‘You – what?’ Dan looked stunned. ‘But I thought you and he …’

  ‘I wasn’t ready,’ said Pippa, silently thinking I may never be ready to marry anyone else ever again.

  ‘Oh,’ said Dan. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ said Pippa, ‘it was for the best. But it means – well if you want things to stay the same, they can. At least for now. You and I can be curators for the kids until they’re older, and they can buy us out if and when they’re ready to.’

  ‘And what about what happens across the lane?’ said Dan, nodding in the direction of Old Joe’s farm. ‘It’s a lot of money they’re offering us.’

  ‘I know,’ said Pippa, ‘but I really do want to make a go of this. And I’ll do it alone if I have to.’

  She meant it to. Somehow, even if she had to work every hour of every day for the rest of her life, she would succeed in keeping the farm. She was disappointed by Dan’s silence. She’d hoped for more.

  ‘If that’s not what you want, I’ll try and raise the capital somehow,’ Pippa was gabbling, she was so desperate for Dan to agree.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said. ‘Let’s wait and see what the planning committee decide. If the hotel goes ahead, it might make it difficult for your plans to go ahead.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Dan. ‘I’m trying to be practical. We might not be able to change the tide.’

  ‘I’m going to have a damned good go,’ said Pippa. ‘I’ll change my name to Cnut, if you want me to.’

  ‘And if anyone succeeds, it will be you,’ said Dan, ‘but this … we’re living a kind of half life. I think it would be better for us both to start afresh.’

  Pippa looked at him in dismay. She’d hoped without Richard being around, Dan would have been more likely to see things her way, but he seemed less interested than ever.

  The only way she was going to do this, it seemed, was completely on her own.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘Thank god we’re home,’ Marianne said as they piled through the door. Though there had been moments of fun, the holiday had been mainly high farce. Culminating in Eve having a dramatic hissy fit with Steven (Steven refused to say about what) one day and storming off in the wind and the rain. Steven and Gabriel had tracked her down to a late night café – thankfully not a pub – where she’d sat sobbing for half an hour about how lonely she was. It transpired Eve hadn’t been taking her medication while they were away. The first thing Gabriel organised when they got back was a trip to the emergency doctor, who warned her that she might have to go back to hospital if she continued in this vein, which seemed to be enough to make her very meek and regretful. Particularly when Steven told her off.

  ‘You can’t keep doing this, Mum,’ he said, angrier than Marianne had ever seen him before. ‘Dad and Marianne don’t deserve it. And neither do I.’

  Eve had been totally stricken and remorseful after that, and when she recovered from her bout of crying, even apologised to Marianne, ‘I’m sorry if my being here has made it difficult for you and Gabriel,’ she said. ‘When I started work, Vera mentioned possibly moving into the flat above the café. I might take her up on it. I’ve been in your hair too long.’

  Marianne was so taken aback by this, she mumbled something about there being no hurry, but then she wished she’d been firmer.

  ‘It will work out,’ said Gabriel. ‘Don’t worry.’

  Which was easy for him to say.

  So yes, Marianne was glad to be home, even though it meant all hands to the deck to bring the harvest in, from theirs and Pippa’s fields. Marianne alternated between staying with the twins and providing provisions as necessary, and going out on the fields with Gabe and Steven. The hours were long, but there was something immensely satisfying about driving back down country lanes in the tractor as the sun set, exhausted from the physical labour, but knowing a job had been well done.

  Pippa informed her that in their absence the surveyors from Blackstock Farm had been looking over at their fields, measuring up and taking photos, which was a bit disconcerting, but Marianne had seen no evidence of anyone till one day, she’d taken the twins and Patch down to the stream for a picnic. She was surprised and dismayed to see Luke Nicholas with two other men in fluorescent jackets, who seemed to be checking out the landscape.

  ‘Hi,’ said Marianne, though she didn’t feel in the slightest like talking to him. ‘Isn’t this common land?’

  ‘It is,’ said Luke, with that devastating smile, which would have once turned her insides to mush, ‘but the boundary is disputed, and we’re checking out if we can spread as far as here.’

  ‘And I shall go home and check too,’ said Marianne. ‘Because if I have anything to do with it you won’t be able to build here.’

  ‘Marianne, Marianne, what can I do to persuade you differently?’ said Luke.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Marianne.

  She was vaguely aware of a pair of birds, hovering in the sky above them. Kestrels? She wondered. Or were they the merlins Pippa was so desperate to prove were there?

  ‘But we’ll be bringing jobs into the area,’ said Luke smoothly.

  ‘Like your eco town?’ Marianne asked slyly.

  ‘That was in the wrong place,’ said Luke.

  ‘So is this,’ argued Marianne.

  ‘You’re wrong, it’s going to be beneficial for Hope Christmas,’ said Luke.

  ‘I don’t see how,’ said Marianne.

  She wished he’d go away. He’d ruined the peace of the afternoon, and unsettled her. This was not how she wanted to spend her days, encountering Luke Nicholas when she least expected it. It made her more determined than ever to oppose the hotel. If Luke were working opposite, life wouldn’t be pleasant at all.

  Pippa was also thinking about the hotel. Felix Macintyre seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth, and not bitten on the wildlife idea, which was a pity. As far as Pippa knew there hadn’t even been any merlin sightings lately, but from what Jack was telling her, there had been attempts to steal wild bird’s eggs, which was a bit worrying. Jack had gathered more people in his makeshift camp, and was reporting aggro from some of the locals keen on the hotel. It made Pippa feel uneasy to think that the development was causing so much upset, she hoped Hope Christmas wasn’t going to tear itself in half over the issue.

  The wildlife angle had been a long shot, but they needed to do more. With the planning meeting coming up, Pippa was throwing herself into action. She had been tweeting regularly using the hashtag #savethewoods, plastering the town with leaflets, bombarding the council with letters, and badgering Sarah Carnforth as much as possible, so it didn’t slip off her agenda. Luckily, Sarah seemed to totally get what they were after.

  ‘You do realise, though don’t you, Pippa,’ she said, ‘if they lose, they’ll just come back with another planning application, or they can take it to the Secretary of State, and if the planning is then approved, you can only appeal through the High Court.’

  ‘That seems grossly unfair,’ said Pippa.

  Sarah shrugged. ‘Who said planning laws were fair. It’s the way it is.’

  ‘Well they’re not going to have it easy,’ said Pippa, ‘none of us are going to take this lying down. We’ll install ourselves in the woods and pelt them with eggs if necessary.’

  ‘I can’t be party to anything illegal,’ Sarah insisted hurriedly.

  ‘I wouldn’t expect you to be,’ said Pippa ‘and I was joking. Though the thought of chucking something smelly all over Luke Nicholas and his smarmy crew is rather appealing.’

  Miss Woods, on the other hand, was all up for some urban guerrilla action.

  ‘I was quite the campaigner back in the day,’
she said. ‘I marched against Nam in the 60s, banned the bomb in the 70s and spent a fair proportion of time in the 80s at Greenham Common. I still know a lot of people who can help us, and I’m perfectly happy to join the camp in the woods.’

  ‘I look forward to seeing that,’ laughed Pippa.

  ‘A bit of mud doesn’t faze me,’ said Miss Woods stoutly, ‘and I’ll make sure we have enough troops to keep the place guarded while we argue things out in the courts.’

  Pippa laughed and felt better. Somehow, Miss Woods always made her feel anything was possible. Which was just as well, because if she thought too hard about the impossibility of the task ahead it was overwhelming. But then again, she was used to that.

  Cat was on edge all morning, as Mel had gone to college on the bus to get her results. She’d promised to ring as soon as she knew, so Cat was busy distracting herself by sitting in her back garden, enjoying the sunshine, and looking up Mediterranean recipes to adapt for her new cookbook, while Ruby played with Lou Lou. She was thinking of calling it The Mediterranean Diet: A Healthy Way to Live, and so far Anna was being cautiously encouraging. Maybe she could still have a career doing what she loved. Though she had to admit the country programmes she was getting involved in were fascinating, and it was nice to have another string to her bow, cookery was her first love. She had learnt a lot on these new programmes, but it wasn’t the same.

  James was upstairs on his Xbox, resolutely pretending he didn’t have results next week, while Paige was still in bed, probably texting all her friends. In two years’ time it would be her turn, which didn’t seem possible somehow. Cat couldn’t believe how quickly her children had grown up. The speed at which life seemed to fly past these days, Lou Lou would be at secondary school before they knew it.

  ‘Ruby, run!’ Lou Lou was staggering up and down the garden in her pretty little sundress and sunhat, while Ruby played chasing games.