“Oh, sorry,” Maggie says. “We’re going too fast, aren’t we? I was with a boyfriend, Ian. It didn’t work out. So that spoilt things a bit for me. And Sean was with Catherine, of course.”
“Catherine was my wife,” Sean explains.
Cora now looks even more confused, so April says, rather, abruptly, “Catherine was my mum. But she died, nearly four years ago. Now, can we move on?”
“Of course,” Maggie says, looking chastised. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine... It’s just... you know,” April says. “Let’s eat.”
Amidst groans of pleasure, everyone samples the food. “This is delicious,” Cora says, tasting the Thoran. “This is an English tradition? Curry on Christmas?”
“No, not at all,” Sean tells her. “But people get bored with turkey and potatoes, you know?”
“Plus we all love curry in this family,” April adds.
“Of course,” Cora says, delicately forking a piece of chicken.
“Can I ask you something?” Maggie says.
“Of course.”
“Are you a dancer?”
Cora laughs and points over her shoulder. “I was. When I was younger. But you can still see, yes? That’s funny.”
“Was it ballet?”
“I trained for ballet, yes. Until I am eighteen. Then I do modern and jazz for a while. Nowadays not so much. Just for staying fit, you know?”
“Now, you see, I didn’t know that,” Sean says, nodding appreciatively.
“It’s the way you hold yourself,” Maggie tells her. “Only dancers have poise like that. And yoga teachers, I suppose. People like that.”
“I do yoga, too,” Cora says. “I love yoga. It calms me.”
The conversation drifts from yoga to Maggie’s Tai Chi classes, and onto rowing and then sports in general.
Once Jake has eaten a few spoonfuls of curry and rice, April retrieves the bag of gifts from the other room and sets him up with them on the big grey sofa while Maggie dishes out her Christmas pudding.
It’s five o’clock and pitch black outside by the time Cora hands round her traditional Greek melomakarona biscuits to go with the coffees Sean has served.
“Oh, shit,” Ronan suddenly exclaims. “We forgot the Christmas crackers. They must still be in the car, aren’t they?”
“God damn it,” Dan says, sounding theatrical and unconvincing. “I forgot mine too.”
A minute later, both men have reappeared with their boxes of crackers.
After some discussion about whose crackers to use – a surprisingly heated issue – Dan and Ronan hand out a mixture. But when Maggie tries to pass hers on to Cora, Dan puts his hand on it. “Can’t mix them up,” he says. “They’re nominative. Well, that one is.”
“And this one is...” Ronan says, carefully examining one of his, and then handing it to April. “It’s a special one for you.”
“Do we have to cracker them with specific people then?” Maggie asks.
“You do,” Dan says. “You have to cracker yours with me.”
As tradition requires, only half of the crackers pop. The other half remain completely silent.
“Here,” Dan says, handing the larger half of Maggie’s back to her. “Have a dig inside there and see what you can find.”
Maggie, looking dubious, fumbles inside the paper tube. “Oh!” she says, finally. “Oh, oh, oh!”
Her fingers slowly withdraw. “God,” she says, putting the ring down on the table in front of her and, suddenly pale and watery-eyed, looking up at Dan.
Everyone leans in to look at the ring, a simple white-gold band with a single blue sapphire.
“Oh, Dan!” Maggie says, now gently picking up the ring.
Dan pushes his chair back and stands. He clears his throat and then begins to speak. “Dearest lovely Mags,” he says. “It’s a year to the day since I met you, and it’s been the best bloody year of my whole life.”
“Aww!” April says, soppily.
“So what I want to know is, will ya marry me?” he asks.
Maggie scans the faces around her and chews her lip. “Talk about pressure!” she says.
Jake chooses this moment to run to the table holding an enormous fluorescent orange super-soaker. “Look, Mum,” he says. “A gun!”
“Hold on,” April tells him.
“But look!” Jake says.
“Shotgun wedding!” Sean comments.
“Wait! Just... wait!” April shouts. “Please, Maggie... the floor is yours.”
Maggie shrugs, then slips into a grin. “All right then,” she says.
“All right then?” Dan repeats, mockingly.
“Then, yes please,” Maggie tells him. She turns to Cora and shrugs cutely. “I’ve never been engaged before,” she says.
Cora reaches out to stroke her back, and smiles.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” Ronan chants, and so, to much applause, Maggie and Dan kiss.
Once the furore of congratulations has calmed down, Ronan turns to April. “Have you looked in yours?” he asks.
She laughs. “Well, whatever’s in it, it’s going to be a bit of a disappointment after Dan’s, isn’t it?”
Ronan shrugs. “I know. But have a look anyway,” he says.
April shakes hers at the table then peers inside. “Nowt,” she says. “Mine’s empty. What a rip-off.”
“Is there not even a joke?” Ronan asks.
April shrugs. “Yeah, there’s a joke,” she says, pulling out the slip of paper. “But nothing else.” She casts the scrap of paper aside, and reaches across the table to take Maggie’s hand.
“Read it out,” Ronan says.
“I don’t want to read it out. I want to look at Maggie’s ring,” April retorts, testily.
“Well, I think you should read it out,” Ronan says again.
April studies the ring for a moment. “That’s beautiful, Mags,” she says. “That’s stunning.”
“I know. I’m a bit in shock, I think.”
“The joke,” Ronan says again, now picking up the slip of paper and waving it in April’s face.
She rolls her eyes and reluctantly takes it from his grasp, then studies the slip of paper. “I don’t get it,” she says, after a moment.
“Read it out,” Ronan says. “What does it say?”
April sighs. “What did the Irishman say to the English girl worried about Brexit?” she reads, in a bored tone of voice. Checking the rear of the slip of paper, she adds, “That’s all it says.”
“And?”
April pulls a face. “And... I don’t get it,” she says.
“What was the question again?”
April shakes her head in frustration. “What did the Irishman say to the English girl worried about Brexit?” she says again. “But there’s no answer.”
Dan, who is now breaking out in a grin, says, “Oh, I get it!”
“Don’t you say a word,” Ronan tells him.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”
April shakes her head. “OK… bored now,” she says. “So come on, clever clogs. What did the Irishman say to the English girl worried about Brexit?”
Ronan winks at her, and then produces a small box from his pocket. “He said, ‘Marry me,’ you eejit.”
April looks wide-eyed at the box in Ronan’s outstretched hand. Her mouth drops open.
“You, um, might want to repeat that without the word ‘eejit’, mate,” Dan, who has pulled his phone out, and is now filming, says. “Just for, you know, posterity’s sake.”
Ronan nods at him. “You’re not wrong,” he says, then turning back to April, he flips the box open, revealing another ring. “Marry me?” he says. “Please say, ‘yes’.”
April glances at her father, then turns back to face Ronan. “You’re supposed to ask Dad, aren’t you?” she says.
Ronan laughs. “I don’t want to marry your father,” he says. “No offence meant, Sean, but you’re just not my type.”
“You know what
I mean,” April insists.
“April’s Dad,” Ronan says, with bored theatricality. “May I please take the hand of your beautiful, clever, funny daughter in marriage and make her both my wife and an Irish citizen?”
Sean nods and then, with unexpected tears welling up in his eyes, croaks, “Yes. Absolutely.” He stands awkwardly and knocks his chair over. “There’s, um, a bottle of champagne still lurking somewhere, I think.”
“There are two,” Dan announces, knowingly. “They’re on the balcony in a freezer bag. I’ll get ‘em.”
“Hold your horses,” April says. “I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet!” She reaches out to take the box from Ronan’s grasp.
“It won’t be your size, yet,” he explains, softly. “It was my grandmother’s. We’ll have to get it adjusted.”
April lifts the ring from the box and inspects it delicately. It has a filigree design, woven around a small central diamond.
“That’s very, very beautiful,” Cora says, leaning across the table and peering in.
“It is,” April agrees. “It’s stunning. This is from when… the twenties? Thirties?”
“Nineteen twenty-three,” Ronan tells her. “It’s platinum, apparently. And a real, actual diamond. Grandmother was high society, it would seem. Jesus only knows what happened afterwards, because we sure weren’t.”
April slips it onto her finger and laughs lightly. “It fits,” she says, holding her hand out to show everyone. “Look, it fits perfectly.”
“Shall I take that as a ‘yes’ then, Cinderella?” Ronan asks.
April nods and looks up at him, tears in her eyes. “Yes,” she croaks. “Definitely!”
Just after six, Maggie and Dan make their excuses and leave.
April takes this as the signal to start tidying up, but Sean takes the cups from her hands and puts them back on the table. “There’s no hurry for that,” he says. “Leave it.”
“It’s fine,” April insists. “Plus, we need to get going soon. Jake’ll be asleep in a minute – and that makes the drive so much less stressful.”
“I won’t,” Jake says. “I’m wide awake.”
April laughs. “He will. He’ll be asleep by the end of the road,” she says.
“If you want,” Cora offers, “I can stay and help with the clean. If you want to get driving. You have to go to London, yes?”
“Yes,” April says. “It’s only an hour, but…” She glances at her father who nods almost invisibly.
“OK then,” she says lightly. “If you’re sure, Cora?”
As Ronan drives away, April looks up at the balcony and sees her father, and Cora, side by side, waving.
“So, what do we think about Cora?” April asks, as she closes her window against the icy night air.
“She seems all right,” Ronan says, turning onto the main road and accelerating away. “She’s pretty, and smart. She seemed pretty fine to me.”
“Yes,” April says. “And it’s a romance-kind-of-thing, yeah?”
Ronan glances at her and wrinkles his brow, mockingly. “You did see how they were looking at each other, right?” he asks.
“Yes,” April says. “Yes, I think I did.”
“Are you OK about that?” Ronan asks. “You sound a bit put out.”
“Oh, I’m not put out,” April says. “But it does feel weird. Leaving them together, like that. Waving. As if they’re a couple or something... oh, I don’t know.”
“You don’t like her?”
“No, I do. But, well, she’s not Mum, is she?”
“No one is,” Ronan says. “No one else ever could be.”
“No,” April says. “No, I suppose not. Of course not. I’m just being silly, aren’t I? And in such a cliché way.”
They drive on in silence for a moment, then she adds, “Do you think they’re going to... Oh, actually... never mind. Forget I asked that.”
“Absolutely, totally, definitely, they are,” Ronan says.
April laughs. “You’re always so wishy-washy about everything. That’s what’s so annoying about you, Ronan. Just try to have an opinion sometimes, yeah?”
“You only had to look at the body-language to...”
“Stop!” April says. “I’ve decided it’s best not to think about it, actually.”
“But it’s a good thing, babe.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. But I really don’t want to think about it.”
“You wouldn’t rather he was on his own, now would you? Not on Christmas Day.”
“No,” April says, glancing behind her seat at Jake who is already asleep. “No, of course not.”
“Well then.”
“And she is nice. It’s true.”
“And pretty. And clever.”
“Yes, and pretty. And clever.”
“So, Merry Christmas, Sean.”
“Yes,” April says, through a snigger. “Yes, Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“You are daft sometimes,” Ronan says. “You’re so daft sometimes that the only thing I can think to do with you is to marry you.”
“Yeah, I’m struggling to believe you did that,” April says. “Especially in front of everyone. And you didn’t organise it with Dan? The whole double proposal thing?”
“Swear to God,” Ronan says. “Your man there totally stole my thunder. I could have killed him for that.”
“You poor baby.”
“But you are glad I asked you? You are happy about it, are you not?”
“Oh, Ronan, of course I am!” April says. “I’m over the moon.”
“Because if you don’t want to...”
“Oh, stop, Ronan. I’m thrilled to bits. I’ve been wishing I’d never said I didn’t want to. I was thinking you’d never ask.”
“Well, that’s good, then.” He reaches out and squeezes April’s hand.
“I’m chuffed for Maggie too,” April says. “I never thought I’d see the day, to be honest. Old Mags, getting married. Imagine that.”
“Quite a successful Christmas, all things considered.”
“Yes,” April says. “Yes, not bad. Not bad at all. All things considered.”
“You’re missing your ma, though, huh?” Ronan says.
April looks across at him. His face is blurred by her sudden tears. “Yes,” she croaks.
“But, that’s good, too,” he says.
“Is it, do you think?”
“Of course. Because it means she’s here with us in a way, doesn’t it? You wouldn’t want to forget your ma. Not at Christmas.”
April sighs deeply and rests her hand on his thigh as he drives. She turns to look out through the windscreen, at the shiny road and the streetlights whizzing by. “If she were here, then at least I think she’d be pleased,” she says, softly.
“Yes,” Ronan says. “Yes, I think it’s a safe bet to say she’d be right chuffed to see everyone so loved-up on Christmas Day.”
“You’re right. And I am loved-up, too. I love you so much, you know?” April says, suddenly, urgently.
“I know,” Ronan replies, matter-of-factly. “But I bet I love you more.”
***
Have a wonderful Christmas, everyone!
Peace and joy to all.
Nick xxx
The Other Son
A novel by Nick Alexander
Selected by Amazon as one of the best fiction titles of 2015.
From Nick Alexander, the author of the #1 ebook hits, The Photographer’s Wife, The Half-Life of Hannah and The French House.
Alice has been lying to herself for years, holding fast to the belief that the needs of her family far outweigh her own.
But her outwardly successful marriage hides dark secrets, and for much of her life, the children were the only reason she stuck around.
These days, though her successful banker son lives nearby, his young wife seems to do everything she can to keep Alice at bay. As for Alice’s other son, he has always been something of a stranger and has been traveling for so long that A
lice isn’t even sure what continent he is on anymore.
Alice can’t help but wonder if the effort she expends presenting a united front to the outside world is actually helping anyone and what would happen if she suddenly stopped pretending.
Could life, like the novels she devours, hold surprises in its closing chapters? And if she did shake everything up by admitting the truth about her marriage, would anyone be on her side? Has the time finally come for Alice to put her own needs first?
For the first time in years, her heart is racing. Can Alice really change her life?
Dare she even imagine such a thing?
The Photographer’s Wife
A novel by Nick Alexander
A number #1 hit. Over 180,000 copies sold.
From the author of The French House, The Half-Life of Hannah and The Case of The Missing Boyfriend, Nick Alexander’s #1 bestseller, The Photographer's Wife, is an epic tale set in two eras, a tale of the secrets one generation has, rightly or wrongly, chosen to hide from the next.
Barbara – a child of the Blitz – has more secrets than she cares to admit. She has protected her children from many of the harsh realities of life and told them little of the poverty of her childhood, nor of the darker side of her marriage to one of Britain's most famous photographers.
With such an incomplete picture of the past, her youngest, Sophie, has struggled to understand who her parents really are, and in turn, Barbara sometimes worries, to build her own identity.
When Sophie decides to organise a vast retrospective exhibition of her adored father's work, old photos are pulled from dusty boxes. But with them tumble stories from the past, stories and secrets that will challenge every aspect of how Sophie sees her parents.
The Bottle of Tears (or Let the Light Shine)
A novel by Nick Alexander
Penny and Victoria are about as different as two siblings can be, one with a smart London lifestyle, the other struggling to make ends meet.
Three Christmases: A Things We Never Said short story bonus. Page 4
