‘Hmm,’ said Michael, ‘he doesn’t always get his own way you know, so long as there are people to stand against him.’
‘There are plenty of them here,’ said Marianne with a smile. ‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘Oh nothing worth fighting for is easy,’ said Michael, ‘but I think you already know that, Marianne,’ and he roared off up the lane on his motorbike, leaving Marianne with the feeling that they weren’t just talking about the campaign.
She walked back into town, holding the twins’ hands tight, feeling very blessed that she had such beautiful, healthy children. Sometimes, it was too easy to get bogged down in the minutiae of life and forget about what was really important.
‘Hot chocolate, kids?’ she said, feeling they deserved a treat.
‘Yes please!’ was the eager response, so she took them to the café, to find Eve working as, after their brief brush with the law, Vera and Albert were back campaigning in the woods again.
‘They weren’t put off by being arrested, then?’ said Marianne.
‘Nope,’ grinned Eve, ‘they seemed to find it entertaining.’
Marianne settled the twins down with a drink, and ordered herself a coffee. As it was quiet, Eve came over and joined them.
‘I’ve got some news,’ she said.
‘What’s that?’ said Marianne.
‘Well, I know I’ve made it hard on you and Gabe this year—’
Marianne protested, but Eve waved her off, ‘You’re just being polite. Steven told me it’s causing problems between you, and I’d hate to do that to you, you’ve both been so kind. Now that I’m feeling so much better, I can see what a nightmare I was when I was living with you, and I’m sorry.’
‘You were ill,’ said Marianne, who felt it wouldn’t be helpful to admit quite how stressful it had been having Eve to stay. ‘And we were glad to help.’
‘Anyway, it’s been great being here, and I’m grateful to Vera for the flat and the job, but I don’t want to serve coffee for the rest of my life. So, I’ve decided come the new year I’m going to look for another job. I’m not much cop to Steven when I’m around, I only drag him down. So I’m going back to London, permanently.’
Cat was at home playing with Lou Lou and chatting to Angela, when the phone rang.
‘If that’s Kay I’m not talking to her except through my solicitor,’ said Angela.
Before Cat had got to the phone, Lou Lou had already picked it up and said, ‘Hallo’ and was about to put it down and say it again as she did with her favourite toy.
‘Hallo?’ The voice on the other end sounded cross. ‘Who’s that?’
‘I’m very sorry,’ said Cat, taking the phone from Lou Lou before she managed to end the call. ‘My granddaughter picked up the phone. Can I help you?’
‘I am speaking to Cat Tinsall?’
‘You are,’ said Cat, unsure as to who it was.
‘Brilliant,’ said the voice. ‘I was just wondering if you were available at short notice.’
‘Erm, I might be,’ said Cat, looking into the lounge and wondering quite how short the notice might be, and what she needed to be available for.
‘Excellent, I’ve been let down. My name’s Josh Anderson, of Backtrack Productions, and I’m directing a Christmas Cookery Short Cuts programme, which is going to be shown live nightly during December. How about it?’
‘Sounds great,’ said Cat, slightly stunned, contemplating what had happened to being too old. ‘Why me though?’
‘All the youngsters are off partying,’ said Josh, ‘A mature woman won’t be. You fit the bill.’
So a backhanded compliment then.
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ said Cat, ‘and sort some stuff out, but provisionally, yes.’
‘Marvellous, look forward to working with you,’ said Josh, and put the phone down.
Fan – bloody – tastic. Cat sat back in total shock. This was amazing. She hadn’t asked about money or any other sensible details. But she had another job, doing what she loved.
‘Yes!’ Cat jumped up and punched the air. She was back, albeit in a very small way. She didn’t care. It was a job. And someone wanted her to do it.
‘What was all that about?’ said Angela.
Yikes. There was the small problem of what to do about Angela and Lou Lou, but she’d have to cross that bridge when she came to it.
So Cat told her.
‘Brilliant news,’ said Angela. ‘You’re wasted doing programmes about cows.’
‘It’s called diversification,’ grinned Cat, ‘or putting up with what you can get.’
‘Still,’ sniffed Angela, ‘this is much more up your street.’
‘It is,’ said Cat, ‘but …’ in the last few months with less work on, she’d been shouldering the domestic burden more. How was she going to manage both again?
‘But nothing,’ said Angela. ‘Don’t stop to think about it. Just take it. You don’t have to say anything. I can see me being here isn’t helping you at all, and I don’t want you fretting about me on top of all the other things you have to deal with. It’s time I took matters into my own hands. I’m going to find myself somewhere else to live.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cat was frantically making Christmas lists – not just for herself, but for the programmes she was due to start filming, which were aimed at people wanting to have a smooth run up to Christmas. She was busy making script notes wondering just how organised could anyone be on December 1. Should the tree be up? Cake made? Turkey ordered? Presumably all three. Turkeys for her were easy – she always got hers from Batty Jack, who reared his birds with such tender loving care he named each one of them, and while he had no compunction about killing them, couldn’t ever eat creatures he referred to as friends – but not everyone lived in the country.
This is insane, Cat found herself scoring it all out. What are we talking about here, people. It’s one day of the year. One day, and yet we stress ourselves so much about it …
She broke off. It was true, bloody true. Every year she went into panic mode around the middle of October, and stayed in it until Boxing Day when she relaxed. Cat suddenly felt after all these years of planning, it would be nice if someone else could take charge for a change.
‘Maybe you should, Lou Lou,’ she said, looking at her granddaughter who was colouring in reindeer pictures, she’d been given at nursery, where all the talk was of the day out to Winter Wonderland, at Pippa’s farm, where they could see real live reindeer and meet Santa.
‘Although I’m getting a bit worried about the reindeer,’ Pippa had confided in Cat, ‘as Ralph hasn’t come back to me about them. I’ve got visions of shoving fake horns on the cows instead.’
‘Lou Lou wouldn’t notice,’ Cat roared with laughter at this vision, but she had a feeling Pippa didn’t find it quite so funny.
Angela had gone home to give them a break – well not home, she had refused point blank to go back to Kay’s house and moved into a hotel down the road and was still insisting she wanted to buy herself a flat in Hope Christmas instead. Noel and Cat thought it seemed like the ideal solution, but Kay was not at all convinced. Last time she’d rung, she’d accused Cat of poisoning her mother’s mind and being after her inheritance, which seemed a bit rich from someone who seemed to be controlling the purse strings. Families.
Her phone rang and she saw it was Mel. Mel had been a bit distant lately, keeping her head down at home, working immensely hard and turning down it seemed most social invitations, though Cat was always happy to babysit. Instead, she came in from college, played with Lou Lou, put her to bed, then locked herself away studying, except for the occasional weekend nights, when she worked in the local pub. It must be hard for her to feel so responsible, when her friends were more carefree, but she never complained.
Of late there had also been a couple of mysterious phone calls at the dinner table, which Mel had dashed off to take privately. Cat suspected there might be a boy on the scene, but didn’t
ask. She missed her daughter’s confidences, but she guessed Mel would tell her in her own good time. Cat didn’t think Mel would make the same mistake twice, she hoped not anyway.
‘Hi, love, you ok?’ said Cat.
‘Fine,’ said Mel. ‘Only, would you mind if—’
‘If what?’
‘It’s really short notice’ – the words came out in a rush – ‘but there’s a party tonight, and—’ there was a pause as if Mel was trying to find the words, ‘—I’ve been invited.’
‘That’s great,’ said Cat, who worried that Mel didn’t have much of a social life.
‘Really?’ the relief in Mel’s voice was comical. ‘So you wouldn’t mind having Lou Lou, so I could stay over?’
‘Mel, sweetheart, you’re eighteen years old, of course you can stay over.’
‘Mum, you’re a star,’ said Mel. ‘I’ll see you later.’ The relief in her voice was hilarious.
Definitely a boy.
‘Good, you’re home,’ said Marianne, one Friday night, as Gabriel walked through the door. ‘Right, go and have a shower and get changed. The twins are in bed. Your mum’s babysitting. We’re going out.’
‘We are?’ said Gabriel.
‘We are,’ said Marianne firmly. Since her chat with Michael, she’d been working out a way she and Gabe could get back onto a more regular footing. They’d been so busy recently they barely spoke to each other apart from about things relating to the children, and Marianne was aware they couldn’t carry on like this. And now Eve had told Marianne her plans to move to London, the problem of whether Steven should go and live with her had become irrelevant, as he would have to move schools in order to do so, and he loved Middleminster too much to do that. So Marianne decided to take the bull by the horns and get Gabriel out for a night to thrash out the things that were bothering them both. It seemed like the ideal opportunity to get over this invisible barrier that had sprung up between them.
Marianne felt tense as they set off down the lane, as Gabriel had barely said two words since coming home. But as soon as they hit the High Street, he turned to her and said, ‘You’re right. We need a night out, thanks for organising it.’ Then he gave her a kiss and took her hand, and she thought with relief, this is going to be easy.
And it was. Over an Indian they found themselves slowly unwinding, talking first about the twins, then about Steven’s Christmas carol concert which was coming up, and then finally, about Eve.
‘So Eve’s planning to move back to London,’ said Gabriel, the relief in his voice palpable.
‘Apparently,’ said Marianne carefully. ‘So that’s good, isn’t it?’
They both paused, then at the same time:
‘I’m sorry—’ began Marianne.
‘I shouldn’t have bitten your head off—’ said Gabriel.
Followed simultaneously by, ‘It’s ok!’ at which point they both burst out laughing and Marianne felt the tight knot which had been in her stomach for weeks now, slowly unwind.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Gabe,’ Marianne said. ‘I was just trying to think what was best for both Steven and Eve.’
‘I know,’ said Gabriel, taking her hand. ‘It’s just Eve and I have battled over Steven for so many years, and I can’t stand it. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’
Then everything felt ok, and they sank a bottle of wine to celebrate. It was nearly ten when they left the restaurant.
‘One for luck in the Hopesay?’ said Gabriel, holding her hand tightly as they tottered up the road.
‘Why not?’ said Marianne who was feeling decidedly tipsy.
They entered the pub, which was packed, so Gabriel went to the bar while Marianne squeezed into a seat in the corner. While she was waiting for Gabe to come back with the drinks, to her very unwelcome surprise, Luke Nicholas was bearing down on her.
‘Marianne, my lovely,’ he carolled, he too seemed more than a bit tipsy, ‘how wonderful to see you.’
He insisted on sitting down at a table and leant over to give her a kiss that lasted that little bit too long. Marianne squirmed uncomfortably at his touch.
‘Have you given any more thought to selling up?’ he said. ‘You know you can’t fight us anymore, why not join us?’
He leaned forward and put his hand on her leg.
Marianne laughed nervously and tried to wriggle away.
‘Sorry, Luke we could never do that.’
‘Pity,’ he said, ‘I think you’re making a big mistake.’
Then with one last kiss, he got up and left her, just as Gabriel came towards the table with their drinks, looking like thunder.
‘Pippa, are you busy?’
Busy, when wasn’t she busy? She looked up from the accounts to see Dan framed in the doorway. But Pippa was pleased to see him. It had been several weeks since they’d done anything more than nod at each other.
Though she knew she had no right to, Pippa wished he’d get more involved with the plans for the farm and with the woods campaign. It was crazy of her to still feel like this, but divorced or not, she still wanted things to be the way they were, would there ever be a day when she didn’t?
‘Not too busy. Do you want tea?’
‘That would be lovely,’ said Dan, and sat down. ‘Don’t suppose there’s any …’
‘… Cake?’ finished Pippa. ‘You know there’s always cake in this house. Unless the boys have eaten it all.’
They sat down and for a fleeting moment it was like old times. The times Pippa missed, even though she knew she shouldn’t.
But then it changed.
‘I know we keep skirting round this,’ Dan said, ‘but I do think we need to get our finances straight. I can see what a brilliant go you’re making of the farm, and I don’t want to hold you back. So in the New Year, I’m going to go and manage Jim Davenport’s farm – since his stroke he’s been struggling, and he’s prepared to pay well. When you’re ready to, I’d like you to buy me out. You’ve been right about the farm all along, it should be held in trust for the children. I want the boys to have it, when they’re old enough. What do you think?’
I think this is mad, she wanted to say, I think we’ve lost everything that was ever good in our lives, apart from the children, but she said nothing. Dan was right, they couldn’t go on the way they were, and he had the right to a fresh start. She should let him go.
‘Of course,’ said Pippa, ‘I’ll look around for someone to come and manage the farm, and we’ll start the New Year with a clean slate. Thanks for being so generous.’
‘It’s not generous, Pippa,’ he said, ‘you deserve the best. And I can’t give you that anymore.’
Suddenly a weird instinct kicked in.
‘Does she have a name?’
‘Who?’ said Dan, looking guilty.
‘Your fresh start,’ said Pippa. ‘I’m pleased for you, Dan, if that’s what you want?’
‘Andrea,’ mumbled Dan. ‘I met her online.’
Online dating. She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. He’d been online dating. But then why shouldn’t he have been?
‘Great. Good for you,’ said Pippa much more brightly than she felt.
She went to shake his hand, feeling faintly foolish, and then he pulled her into a warm tight hug, from which she never wanted to be let go.
‘This really is it then,’ she said, hoping he wouldn’t hear the muffled tears in her voice.
‘Guess so,’ he said, the tears in his all too apparent.
Then he was gone, and she was alone in the kitchen, which no longer felt warm and bright, but cold and very very lonely.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘So there we were, having a really lovely evening, and just at the point when I thought I’d finally got through to Gabe, bloody Luke Nicholas had to screw it all up,’ said Marianne. ‘Now he’s got it into his head that there’s something going on between us, which there’s not, obviously, but Gabe just won’t listen.’
‘Give hi
m time,’ said Pippa, ‘stubborn as a mule, my cousin.’
‘And don’t I know it,’ said Marianne. ‘What about you? Have you got any further with buying Dan out?’
‘Working on it,’ said Pippa. ‘I think if we can get a good crowd in for the Winter Wonderland and I take my parents up on the offer of a loan, I might be able to persuade the bank manager in six months that I can do it.’
‘Well that’s something,’ said Marianne. ‘Progress for the year – Pippa to be self-sufficient.’
‘Yes,’ said Pippa, and looked sad. Marianne felt for her friend. She wished things could be different for her. Mind you, at the moment, she wished things could be different for her too. Gabriel had retreated into a sullen silence again, and this time she really didn’t know how she was going to get him out of it.
‘What’s the latest on the woods?’ said Marianne, who’d slightly lost track of things thanks to a week in which first Daisy and then Harry had succumbed to a stomach bug.
‘It’s all gone a bit quiet on that front,’ said Pippa. ‘Thankfully the weather has held things up a lot’ (it had been raining fairly constantly for the last couple of weeks) ‘and Miss Woods has been organising raids on the worksite – they keep finding tools missing and the like. They tried to put in a better perimeter fence but Batty Jack and his crew have cut a hole through it from a ditch near the woods, and they keep going on guerrilla missions at night, moving equipment about and spraying Save the Woods messages on the yard.’
‘Won’t they get into trouble for defacing property?’ said Marianne.
‘I hope not, I do keep impressing on Jack the need to stay legal, though luckily with so many protesters, it’s difficult for the police to pin the blame on one individual. And at least the paint they use is water soluble, so it comes off really easily. It’s about being a nuisance really.’
‘What about Felix Macintyre?’ Marianne wanted to know. ‘Did he respond to your pictures?’
‘No,’ said Pippa. ‘It’s such a bugger, as the merlins have been spotted several times now. It was a bit of a wild hope really.’
‘Never say die,’ said Marianne. ‘We’ve just got to keep plugging on.’
Coming Home For Christmas Page 25
