Christmas at Lock Keeper's Cottage

by Lucy Coleman

  ‘Immi, that’s wonderful news!’ he exclaims.

  ‘Well, we’re hoping that his mum, Rona, will consider moving to the area. I have no idea how amenable she’ll be to the idea, but if she does come, well – she’s a lady who is really into arts and crafts.’

  Martin expels a big sigh.

  ‘Goodness knows we could do with a couple of people like that. But they’re thin on the ground. Look how many temporary staff we’ve had come and go. They don’t last, Immi, do they? The only people you can really count on are the locals. People who live on the patch.’

  He’s right. Look at Mrs Price. She’s juggling her own workload in order to help out.

  ‘That’s what I love about Aysbury, Martin. We take care of our own and I really think Rona would flourish here.’

  ‘I also need an assistant manager, someone who can make decisions when I’m out in the van. It’s not going to be easy to find someone to whom I can safely delegate that level of responsibility. It’s a real pity you can’t work full-time on a permanent basis, Immi, even if it was just Monday to Friday.’

  He’s right, it would solve his problem, but I shrug my shoulders. I could never leave Fisher in the lurch and Martin knows that.

  ‘Can I call everyone to order, please?’

  Kurt raps on the table with his knuckles, but even so it takes a few seconds for the general chatter to die down. We’re all assembled in the conservatory of The Bullrush Inn for the monthly Residents’ Meeting. Everyone is free to come along and tonight it’s packed. First on the agenda is some damage done to the village sign, by one of the huge lorries delivering Christmas trees to the Lockside Nurseries.

  Martin is apologetic and confirms that he has it in hand. Next up there’s a discussion about a few fund-raising ideas in the run-up to Christmas, to support next year’s tenth anniversary dinner. Instinctively I look across at Tollie, because up to now, any discussions on this topic have been kept very separate from the general meeting.

  ‘Whilst we’re on that topic,’ Tollie begins, and heads start turning in his direction. ‘I know and appreciate a lot of work has already gone into this, but there’s no point in me beatin’ about the bush. I didn’t even realise it was an anniversary; at my age you don’t count the years, you count the blessings.’

  Tollie has this enviable way of looking at life. It’s cut and dry, very to the point and he isn’t swayed by outside influences. Looking at a situation and usually managing to see it from differing perspectives, he’s a fair man. He doesn’t care about what people want to hear, he tells them how it is, whether that’s palatable or not, because it’s the truth.

  ‘I’m not against a party, but I am against wastin’ money. Let’s do what we always do and that’s to chip in and come together as neighbours, to raise the roof at the community centre. We’ll have a dance, a bite to eat and celebrate what is a marvellous achievement all round.’

  One thing Tollie is very good at is eye contact and as he scans around no one makes a move to interrupt him.

  ‘Everyone here is involved in some way, either directly, or by spreadin’ the word. And many of you are kind enough to approach your employers, and businesses far and wide to donate toys. Each year we end up with a bigger kitty to distribute amongst our featured charities and that keeps us going year after year. But if people are going to put their time and energy into raisin’ funds to mark the anniversary, then we owe it to ourselves to use it wisely. What I’m proposin’ is that we look at buildin’ a playground alongside the canal. Somethin’ with a fence and a gate, where the kids can run off a little steam while the parents sit and keep an eye.’

  There’s some general nodding of heads, but the truth is that no one will disagree with Tollie. He’s merely pointing out the obvious – that we got carried away and lost sight of what’s important.

  ‘Show of hands?’ Kurt calls out and it’s unanimous.

  ‘Do you think the local council would go along with this, Tollie?’ Fisher is ever the practical one, because that’s how his mind works.

  ‘Well, you know what these things are like. It would be more likely to involve the Canal and River Trust. Negotiations can run on for months and we need to make this simple. I’ll have a strip of land on the south side of Lock Keeper’s Cottage fenced off; it runs adjacent to The Retreat. The only cost involved will be that of installin’ the playground equipment and the correct surface, so it’s compliant with current regulations.’

  Abe immediately pipes up.

  ‘The primary school at Little Hampton have just had a new play area installed. I know one of the guys who worked on the job. He owns The Sea Sprite, up at the marina. I could ask him about it and see if he can get us a discount, if you like.’

  Tollie looks delighted.

  ‘Nice one, Abe. As for general maintenance, Gray has stepped up, as has the lovely Immi. There are going to be a few changes in this next year at the cottage and, all going well, Gray will be settlin’ in with us on a permanent basis.’

  I can feel my cheeks glowing as all eyes are suddenly on me. I know Tollie is really happy about our news, but I had no idea he was going to blurt it out like that. I won’t feel happy until I’ve seen Rona’s reaction for myself and I don’t know how soon we can make that happen.

  ‘You kept that very quiet, Immi,’ Sarah responds, looking a little miffed.

  ‘Um… well, it’s not official just yet. That’s why I haven’t said anything, but Gray and I are working on it.’

  There’s a bit of a buzz now around the table. I steal a glance at Fisher and clearly Tollie has already spoken to him, as he isn’t showing any signs of surprise. In fact, he looks a little smug.

  ‘Seems likely there will be two big parties going on next year, then,’ Abe declares, and I’m just glad Gray isn’t here to be put on the spot. We were supposed to be easing ourselves into this, one step at a time, not making a big announcement.

  ‘Right, next on the agenda, if we can all settle down again, is the problem of graffiti in the public toilets at the marina.’

  9

  Fourteen Days until Christmas

  ‘Morning, Mrs Price. I thought I’d pop in on my way to the nurseries just in case you had any questions. Is Fisher about?’

  She smiles at me warmly.

  ‘He’s had his two cups of coffee and he’s out in the boat yard at present. I’m glad you called in. It’s not urgent, but when you get an odd half-hour if you could go through the damaged stock return procedure with me, I’d be grateful. There are two items to go back and Jack simply shrugged his shoulders at me.’

  Jack? No one calls Fisher Jack – in fact, I’d almost forgotten what his first name was.

  ‘No problem. I’ll arrange with Martin to leave a bit early on Friday and pop in here around three-thirty?’

  ‘Perfect. I hear congratulations are in order, too. I was so sorry I didn’t make it to the meeting, but I was teaching. I can’t believe I missed such an interesting one.’

  Mrs Price sounds genuinely delighted by the news. All those occasions when she hasn’t been around, I thought it was because she didn’t want to join in. It turns out she was working and would love to have been involved.

  ‘Thank you. I… um, well, there’s a fair bit to organise first, of course. Gray’s mother, Rona, has never been to Aysbury and he’s hoping she’ll be free to drive over at the weekend. I’d love to introduce you to her; she’s a charming lady, and it’s going to be a bit daunting for her at first. She used to teach, too; infants, I believe, so you have something in common.’

  ‘Yes, of course – that would be delightful. I’m free all weekend, in between clipping the Santa Ahoy cruise tickets, of course.’

  ‘Perfect. I’m hoping we can fit in an afternoon tea at The Bullrush Inn and introduce her to a few of our friends.’

  I feel so guilty now, for thinking of Mrs Price as rather aloof. And it looks as if Fisher is happy to have her around, too, because if he wasn’t, he’d be on the ph
one to me in an instant.

  ‘Right, I must get off. Martin was panicking yesterday, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed everyone turns up for work today. We were three down again and I ended up having to go out in the van with him to give a hand with some deliveries. Actually…’ I lean in, lowering my voice ‘… I enjoy freshening up the floral arrangements. But don’t breathe a word to Fisher. He’s already annoyed that I give Martin more time than I give him.’

  Her mouth twitches.

  ‘Jack told me you’re like a daughter to him, Immi, and he meant it.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m a bit annoyed with both him and Tollie, to be honest with you. But I’ve managed to cool down a little. Sometimes they forget that I’m a grown woman, perfectly capable of organising my own life.’

  Mrs Price’s eyes open a little wider in surprise as I head off, muttering to myself. It seems that everyone is now aware that Gray is going to become a permanent member of our happy little band.

  I’m pretty sure that Tollie knew what he was doing at the meeting; it wasn’t something that simply slipped out. He was making sure Gray and I don’t drag our feet. I don’t know whether to feel cross that Tollie is still trying to steer me along my path in life, or touched that he’s so convinced Gray and I are right for each other.

  As I exit the marina, it’s time to step up the pace – I’m running behind. I spot Fisher coming towards me.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asks, a slight frown etched on his forehead.

  ‘It is, thank you. I’ll pop in on Friday, but I can’t stop now. I’m late.’

  His frown deepens as we pass by, but I keep walking. He turns to call after me, but I don’t look back.

  ‘You’re cross with me, I can tell. No harm meant, Immi.’ His voice gets louder the further away I get, as he tries to make amends. ‘It’s going to be a great Christmas, though.’

  I nonchalantly wave my arm in the air, while breaking into a jog. It doesn’t hurt to let him stew for a bit. It’s time to put a halt to the meddling.

  My phone starts to ping, but I don’t have time to stop and see who it is; I bet its Fisher telling me to be careful I don’t trip and fall into the canal, or something equally ridiculous. And overprotective.

  I glance up at the sky. It’s another beautiful day and several degrees warmer than yesterday. The early morning frost is almost gone, already. I’m praying that it stays like this through to the weekend and Rona is able to drive herself over. How could anyone not think of this as a little slice of heaven, and the perfect place to move to be close to family?

  ‘You’ve been glued to your phone for the last twenty minutes,’ Martin complains as he polishes off the last of his sandwich.

  I nod, munching as fast as I can in between texting Gray. He still doesn’t have anything firm lined up for work and there are no more cheques in the pipeline. He had high hopes for a big project, one that would really take him in the direction he longs to go, but communication has gone ominously quiet. After a little back and forth, he suddenly changes the subject.

  Mum’s definitely up for driving over on Saturday. I suggested she join us for the second cruise. I think she’d enjoy that. She’s looking forward to afternoon tea at The Bullrush.

  Does that mean he’s told her everything and had the chat about moving?

  Great. I’ve invited Mrs Price along. I’ll book a table in the conservatory. How is Rona doing in general?

  He’ll know I’m fishing.

  We had a talk about the house, and I pointed out that it needs a fair bit of work doing to it now. I sowed the seed. Hopefully Saturday we can build on that.

  I let out a sigh. It would have been better to sit her down and tell her exactly what’s happening and the fact he’d be happier if she was nearby. But I can’t interfere, and I don’t want to upset him.

  Great. I must go. Lunch is nearly over and Martin is waiting for me. We’re off to the Linden Hotel. We’re decking out the big function room for a corporate Christmas party on Thursday. No expense spared. Speak later. x

  Martin and a couple of the guys are already loading the van.

  ‘Is Gray alright?’ he enquires as I walk past him with my arms clutched around an oversized box containing a garland for a mantelpiece.

  ‘He’s good. His work tends to tail off at Christmas. He’s always writing tunes, so he keeps busy, but he worries about cash flow.’

  ‘When you’re self-employed it’s always a concern. I’ve had my tough years, wondering whether I could keep afloat, and now it’s going the other way. I’ve just swapped one load of worries for another, it seems. Right, I think we can head back to get the rest of the boxes now.’

  He half turns, calling out over his shoulder.

  ‘Grab your coats, guys, we have a long afternoon ahead of us.’

  ‘I owe you an apology for blurtin’ out your news, Immi.’ Tollie at least has the decency to look genuinely sorry. ‘I just got a tad carried away, I’m afraid.’

  There’s a little sparkle in his eye that hasn’t been there for a while. He’s been worrying about Gray and me, and now he feels he can finally relax. Which makes me feel guilty, so how can I be annoyed with him?

  ‘I don’t believe a word of it, but I’ll forgive you, all the same. We are determined to keep the engagement celebration small, though.’

  Collapsing down rather gratefully onto the sofa, I’m exhausted from a long afternoon climbing ladders and trekking back and forth to the van.

  ‘I’ll happily foot the bill if you want to hold it at The Bullrush. Everyone will be expectin’ an invitation, Immi.’

  My phone pings and it’s an excuse to avoid eye contact. It’s a text from Gray.

  ‘Tollie, that’s very kind of you but we don’t want to make a big fuss. There’s too much going on in the run-up to Christmas. We were rather hoping to have some quality family time together, rather than a party.’

  ‘This is about Rona, isn’t it?’

  I shrug my shoulders as I push the phone back into my pocket.

  ‘That will need some sorting, admittedly. Which is why we want to take it slowly. But this is the quiet time of the year for Gray, workwise, which means he’s worried about money, too. With the hours I’m working I can pay for a party, but he’s a proud man; you know what he’s like.’

  Tollie looks at me rather glumly. ‘I said the wrong thing, at the wrong time – that wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have meddled, Immi, but – well, I didn’t stop to think about the implications.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, it’s just the circumstances. I suggested to Gray that we wait until the spring to celebrate our engagement, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He’s so happy now the decision has been made that he just wants to make it all happen. But we both agree that we keep the celebration small and no one gets carried away. The fact it’s all being arranged at such short notice is the perfect excuse, to be honest. I’ll get my head around it somehow.’

  ‘Fair enough. I’m sure folk will understand. I’m assumin’ the weddin’ bash will make up for it, though?’

  I let out an exasperated tut. ‘Tollie, please! Yes, we’ll have a big party and all the locals will be invited. However, I’m warning you now that the wedding itself is going to be a very simple, and small, affair. The last thing I want is Gray worrying about what it’s all going to cost. If Rona isn’t able to find herself a nice little job, then she’s reliant upon him to help her out.’

  I can’t let Tollie know that Gray intends adding his own little nest egg to mine, so we can pay for the renovation work to bring the cottage up to date for him. And I certainly don’t want Tollie frittering away his life savings on things that aren’t necessary, like an over-the-top wedding.

  ‘Well, I might as well say what’s on my mind, then. I’ve been waitin’ for the right moment and it’s been a long time comin’.’

  Tollie raises his eyebrows, a little tic suddenly flickering away at the side of his eye. He’s emotional and I need to sit quietly and hear him
out.

  ‘When your grandma knew she was dyin’, being the type of woman she was, I was given my orders. So, you can’t argue with this, Immi, because it was her wish. Whatever your weddin’ costs, the money has already been earmarked. You have what makes you and Gray happy, because it’s sorted.’

  He pauses and I resist the temptation to interrupt him, thoughts of Grandma making my eyes prickle with tears.

  ‘There’s one more thing. Well, two, as a matter of fact. The first is that she wanted me to give you her engagement ring when the time was right.’ Tollie eases himself up out of his chair and walks over to the carved wooden box that has always graced the mantelpiece. Lifting off the lid, he dips inside and turns, holding out a small velvet pouch to me.

  I stand and walk towards him, as our eyes meet. The look we exchange is one of uneasy sadness, and we both have tears in our eyes as I undo the string. Pulling out Grandma’s ring, I lay it flat on the palm of my hand.

  ‘It’s beautiful, Tollie. I always thought that. And I’m grateful to you both. I will treasure it always.’

  He takes a moment to compose himself, but when he starts speaking again his voice is uneven.

  ‘It’s likely you’ll want your own ring, of course, but she was insistent that I waited for this moment to give it to you. She said it would remind you that her love is around you always.’

  I stare down at the vintage, eighteen-carat, white-gold ring, which I admired even as a very small child. The octagonally cut aqua stone is stunning, with a small baguette diamond on each shoulder of the setting. Grandma told me the story many times over, of how Tollie insisted on taking her ring shopping. When she looked in the window, he saw the aqua stone catch her eye, but she instinctively turned and pointed to a much less expensive ring. He’d had to almost drag her inside to get her finger measured, as she was loath to see him spend his hard-earned money. She told him a ring wasn’t necessary to win her heart.