Mistletoe and Mayhem

by Catherine Ferguson

  Rosie smiles. ‘Sounds good. And you two get some nice auntie–nephew bonding.’ She reaches out and takes my hand. ‘You look pale, Lolly. Are you okay? That stuff you told me last night about Jack – I’d no idea you’d been bottling all that up.’ She frowns. ‘You do know you did nothing wrong?’

  I shake my head and shrug, just as Josh comes bounding back in.

  ‘What did you do wrong, Auntie Lola?’ he demands.

  I force a laugh. ‘Oh, nothing that a week on the naughty step won’t put right.’ I ruffle his hair and he squirms away. ‘Now, how do you fancy having a look round some Christmas toy departments followed by a burger and a milkshake?’

  ‘Oh, he’d hate that,’ says Rosie, drolly.

  ‘No, I wouldn’t, Mum! It would be barry! Can we go now?’

  I smile at his eagerness. ‘I wouldn’t mind getting out of yesterday’s clothes, once your Uncle Rob and Auntie Justine are up. But as soon as I do, we’ll be off.’ I nudge him. ‘Barry, eh? I’ve never heard that one.’

  ‘It’s the kids’ version of our “cool”, explains Rosie.

  ‘Oh, right.’ I stick my thumb up at Josh. ‘Barry.’

  Rosie takes Mum a cup of tea and Josh goes in with her to see his gran. I can hear him chatting excitedly about something called a Nerf Gun and making assorted blasting noises. I only hope Mum hasn’t got a thumping head like mine this morning.

  ‘How is she?’ I ask Rosie when they emerge.

  She makes a ‘so-so’ sign. ‘Better leave her to rest, I think. She’s hopping mad about Dad leaving. She wants to see you.’ Rosie grins. ‘You have been summoned.’

  When I go in, she’s sitting up in bed, drinking her tea. ‘Morning, love. So your dad’s not back?’

  ‘Not yet, Mum. But I’m sure he won’t be away for long. He probably just needs some time alone, to think.’

  She shakes her head. ‘But what about me?’

  I look at her, not quite understanding.

  She shrugs. ‘Did he pause to imagine how I’d feel about him just swanning off into the night like that?’

  ‘Well, he – he had a lot on his mind, Mum.’

  She sniffs. ‘Well, he’d better be back soon. I need him to get me some more of my sleeping pills.’

  ‘The herbal tablets? Well, Rob can do that for you,’ I point out.

  ‘No, no, I don’t want to bother your brother. Dad’ll take me when he gets back.’

  I press her hand. She doesn’t seem very worried about Dad but she’s probably just putting on a brave front. The thought of being on her own without him must be really frightening for her.

  It frightens me too.

  Where on earth is he?

  His mobile is permanently dead or switched off and he’s not answering the landline either.

  Josh is great company.

  Once in town, we head for the largest department store – and specifically, the sparkling, magical Christmas wonderland on the third floor.

  It’s a kid’s idea of Heaven.

  And a parent’s worst nightmare. (How to convince a wide-eyed child that delayed gratification is A Good Thing. And a concept firmly endorsed by Santa.)

  ‘Oh, wow!’ breathes Josh, temporarily overcome by the sheer lushness of his surroundings.

  He gets in the swing of things pretty quickly and proves a first class tour guide.

  Being the expert on all things of a toy nature, he leads the way.

  We spend a lot of time examining a range of model cars in boxes. Josh seems to know all the names, which astounds me, and I tell him to choose which one he’d like. This involves a great deal of deciding then changing his mind. But eventually, I manage to get him to a till.

  By the time we find a seat in the crowded café with our tray of burgers and milkshakes, I know all about Nerf Guns and Minions and racing cars with artificial intelligence.

  ‘So, three sleeps till Christmas.’ I smile, placing a burger in front of him. ‘Are you excited?’

  Josh gives me a big beaming smile, places his car in the centre of the table and takes a huge bite out of his burger.

  ‘Christmas is barry. Can we really go ice-skating?’

  I think about my shattered plans for the day. A family visit to the open-air ice rink was on the cards but now it looks like everyone is going to be doing their own thing, one way or another.

  ‘Yes, I don’t see why not. You, me and your mum could go later on.’

  ‘Promise?’

  I smile and pinch one of his chips. ‘Okay. I promise. It might just be you and me, though. Your gran’s a bit poorly.’

  Josh nods. ‘And Grandad’s away getting his car fixed.’

  ‘Er, yes – yes, he is.’ So that’s how Rosie has explained Dad’s absence to him.

  He chews thoughtfully on his burger. Then he asks me, matter-of-factly, ‘Will Gran ever get properly better?’

  The question takes me completely by surprise and I hesitate, not quite knowing what to say.

  ‘Mum feels sorry for Grandad,’ says Josh. ‘She says Gran’s not very nice to him sometimes.’

  ‘Does she?’

  He nods. ‘I heard her telling Jo that Gran should have seen a skunk a long time ago and then she’d be better.’

  Jo is Rosie’s friend and business partner in Spain.

  A skunk? I stare at Josh, trying to interpret.

  Presumably Rosie wasn’t talking about a trip to the zoo to see a nasty-smelling furry animal. But isn’t skunk also some kind of a drug? Surely Rosie wouldn’t be advocating Mum go down the ‘artificial high’ route to solve her health problems?

  Then it hits me.

  ‘Oh, do you mean a shrink?’

  Josh chews his last mouthful of burger and swallows. ‘Yeah. That’s what I said.’

  Back home, Josh makes loud acceleration noises and runs his new car along the wall as I put the key in the lock.

  I turn and watch him for a moment. He’s the driver of the car, wrapped up in a racetrack world of his own imagination, completely oblivious to everything else.

  Then the door above slams and Seb appears on the stairs, dressed smartly in a grey suit and white shirt. He only just manages to avoid trampling on Josh, who’s now on the floor, running his car along the bottom step.

  ‘Whoah! Nice car.’ Seb grins, stepping over him. ‘You must be Josh. I’m Seb.’ He holds out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  Josh scrambles to his feet and solemnly shakes Seb’s hand. Then he proudly holds up his new acquisition. ‘It’s a Bugatti Veyron.’

  Seb examines it carefully. ‘So it is. Have you learned to drive, then?’

  He winks at me.

  Josh hoots with laughter. ‘No! I’m much too young for that. And anyway, you can’t drive this! It’s just a toy.’

  ‘Oh, right. Well, it’s a mighty fine vehicle, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Have you got a car?’ Josh asks.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I do. What do you think about the Audi A3?’

  Josh considers. ‘Not bad.’

  I laugh. ‘Hey, you got the royal seal of approval.’

  Seb gives me one of his crinkle-eyed smiles and I feel myself blushing.

  ‘Do you like skating?’ Josh asks.

  Seb looks surprised. ‘Never done it. But it looks like fun.’

  ‘We’re going skating.’ Josh turns to me. ‘Aren’t we, Auntie Lola?’

  I smile at him. ‘When your mum gets back. It’s a bit too far to walk.’

  ‘Well, Seb’s got a car. We can go with him.’

  My blush deepens. ‘Josh! You can’t just go inviting yourself for a ride in someone’s car. You’ve got to wait to be asked.’

  ‘Oh.’ He throws me a guilty look and I shake my head, pretending to be cross.

  Seb laughs. ‘Josh. Would you and your auntie like a lift to the skating rink?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ says Josh, spirits instantly restored. He glances anxiously at me. ‘Can we?’

  I shake my h
ead. ‘No, Josh. Seb was just on his way out. He’s obviously busy.’

  I feel terrible, as if we’ve just harangued the poor man into being our driver for the afternoon.

  ‘It’s nothing that can’t wait,’ murmurs Seb to me. ‘Give me a minute to get changed and we can go.’

  ‘Yay!’ shouts Josh.

  How can I possibly refuse?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Back in the flat, I’m hoping there might be news of Dad. And that Mum might be up and about, and might even fancy coming to watch Josh on the ice.

  On the kitchen table is a note in Rosie’s slanted handwriting informing me that Mum’s had a text from Dad saying he’s at home and he’s fine.

  I feel my shoulders sink with relief. Dad’s safe and at least we now know where he is.

  The note adds that she, Rob and Justine have gone out to buy me a replacement Christmas tree. On the end, she’s written: ‘P.S. By the way, Rob kicked the oven and it’s working again. And we all agree your Rocky Road is to die for!!!’

  I grin and open the tin. Yup. Half of it’s gone. This cheers me up no end. It sounds as if even Justine approved. At least I’ve managed to get something right.

  I hear Mum calling, so I pop my head round the bedroom door. She’s sitting up in bed reading one of Barb’s glossy magazines, several empty mugs and two plates of crumbs on the bedside table.

  Rosie and Rob have obviously been looking after her in my absence.

  ‘It’s great that you’ve heard from Dad.’ I smile.

  She stacks the dirty plates and hands them to me, her lips pursed. ‘Yes, but why hasn’t he come back? What on earth did he think he was playing at, simply disappearing off into the night like that? Not giving us a second thought.’

  ‘Well, never mind, at least we know he’s all right,’ I say brightly, balancing the mugs on top of the plates. ‘I’m sure he’ll be back for Christmas lunch. He’s not going to miss that, is he?’

  Josh barges in and asks if we’re leaving soon and I turn to shush him.

  Mum smiles. ‘So where are you off to, Joshie?’

  ‘We’re going ice-skating.’ He beams.

  ‘Why don’t you get dressed, Mum?’ I say. ‘We’ll wait for you. Josh would love it if you came with us. Wouldn’t you, Josh?’

  Josh nods obligingly and runs out again.

  Mum wrinkles her nose. ‘I think I’ll just stay here, if you don’t mind. Pass me those magazines, will you, love?’

  I fetch the pile and put them next to her on the bed. ‘Right, well, we’ll see you later, Mum. Can I get you anything before we go?’

  ‘Another cuppa would be nice.’ She reaches for a magazine. ‘And some more of that heavenly Rocky Road.’

  ‘Can we go now?’ asks Josh when I emerge. This is about the tenth time of asking.

  ‘Yes, in a minute. I’ve just got to make Gran a cup of tea.’

  ‘Can’t she make it herself?’

  ‘Your gran’s not feeling very well, Josh.’

  He frowns. ‘Well, she looks all right.’

  I smile at his impatience and think: Out of the mouths of babes …

  At last we’re ready to go.

  Half-way out of the door, I turn round and nip back in – to Josh’s wail of dismay – in order to slick on more lip gloss.

  Seb brings the car round and I get in the passenger seat while Josh scoots in the back.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ I eye Seb worriedly. He’s changed out of his business suit into jeans, jumper and a navy puffa jacket. I keep feeling Josh has badgered him into it.

  He grins. ‘Absolutely. I’m not turning down a free lesson from the expert.’ Glancing in the rear view mirror, he says, ‘Think you can teach me to skate, Josh?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s easy.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  They give each other the thumbs-up and I smile gratefully at Seb. He seems happy enough to come with us so perhaps I’ll just relax and enjoy it. Most of the festive activities I’d planned might have gone up in smoke but I really want Josh to enjoy himself – and so far, we’re doing okay.

  A faint whiff of manly shower gel tantalises my nose and I lean subtly closer to breathe it in.

  ‘You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?’ asks Seb, grinning.

  The outdoor rink opens every Christmas in the grounds of a local country house hotel. It’s getting dark by the time we arrive.

  Josh tumbles out of the car as soon as it stops, eager to get skating.

  We follow a path edged with lights that look like flaming torches and find ourselves in a clearing in the trees, which has been magically transformed into a Victorian-style Christmas wonderland. Ranged around the rink in the centre are stalls selling chestnuts, mince pies and hot chocolate and the surrounding trees are hung with coloured fairy lights. There’s even an old-fashioned barrel organ.

  But the main attraction is the circular sweep of ice, with folk of all ages gliding or stumbling around it, muffled up in coats and scarves against the freezing night air. If it weren’t for the skinny jeans on display and the burger stall, you really could imagine you’d time-travelled back a century.

  We line up for boots, Josh jumping up and down ahead of us.

  I’m not intending to take part. I haven’t been on ice skates since I was about eight. And anyway, I don’t need to with Seb here to keep Josh company.

  But Seb insists I give it a go and, with Josh backing him up enthusiastically, I eventually give in.

  ‘Male bonding is a scary thing,’ I laugh. ‘Talk about being out-numbered.’

  I hang back to start with, shooing them onto the ice and telling them to show me how it’s done.

  It’s clear straight away that Josh is pretty good. And it’s also clear that Seb has never been on the ice before in his life.

  Josh pushes himself away and skates off near the perimeter, then turns to wait.

  I hold my breath as Seb tries to repeat Josh’s moves – with far more bravado than skill – and fails miserably. His big frame sways jerkily as he fights to stay aloft. But, all too soon, his battle with the unforgiving surface is over and he lands with a thwack on his bottom.

  I watch, giggling, as Josh skates over to assist. He holds out his hand and after several goonish attempts to get up, Seb manages to rise to his full height and skate clumsily to the side, where he grins over at me.

  ‘Rubbish,’ I shout, and point at Josh, who’s urging Seb to get going again.

  Seb gives me a comical look of terror, raises his arms in a giant shrug – and promptly falls over again.

  Josh creases himself laughing and starts trying to haul him to his feet. Then the two of them start moving, hand-in-hand, in a faltering and very graceless progression around the rink.

  I wince as other, experienced skaters whizz past them, doing spins and extravagant twirls like they’re auditioning for a part in Disney On Ice.

  The night air feels bitingly cold on my cheeks and I dig my hands deeper in the pockets of my thick, military-style jacket.

  A burst of happiness surges through me.

  This is lovely.

  This is exactly how Christmas should be.

  Spending it having fun with the people you love.

  I laugh loudly as Seb, having come full circle under Josh’s tuition, waves at me and nearly wobbles out of control.

  Oh God, they’re coming over!

  I’m shaking my head firmly. But it’s clear from the determined looks on their faces that they’re not going to take no for an answer.

  So I grab their hands and step gingerly onto the ice, rigid with fear and shrieking with panic at the sheer impossibility of remaining upright. At first, I’m being pulled along, with Josh yelling encouraging things like, ‘Don’t be scared, Lola. You probably won’t fall down that much.’ He soon gets bored and lets go of my hand, skating away on his own – and at first, it does feel scary. But gradually, I find it’s easier to balance this way, and I start mirroring Seb’s feet, m
oving forwards with more confidence.

  I’m even starting to enjoy myself.

  With my hand in Seb’s and his powerful body at my side to keep me steady, I feel so safe, I even start to believe I’ll get round the rink without a fall.

  Bad move.

  I take my eye off the ball, wobble alarmingly and my skates slide out from beneath me. Seb’s strong arm bears me up and stops me going down with a painful bump. But my fall upsets his own precarious balance, and, a second later, he lands on his butt beside me.

  I try to scramble up but another skater whizzes past my left ear and I go down again, this time crashing sideways into Seb. His comical expression makes me giggle, and as another skater flies by, much too close for comfort, he puts a big protective arm around me, drawing me in to his side.

  We stay like that for a while, leaning against each other, getting our breath. My jeans are soaked through, although I don’t feel in the slightest bit cold. My heart is thumping fit to burst out of my chest and, for some reason, I’m suddenly unable to look at Seb. Instead, I concentrate on all the action that’s going on around me.

  ‘Give me a push, will you?’ Seb jokes at last.

  Slowly, he manoeuvres his body into a precarious standing position and manages to haul me, laughing, to my feet. Then, holding me firmly around the waist, he steers me over to the side.

  ‘We really are rubbish,’ Seb laughs. ‘Look at that.’

  He points at a small boy – probably no older than five – who’s skating confidently round, tailed by a woman who’s probably his mum. She’s struggling to keep up with him.

  I nod. ‘An ice-skating star of the future.’

  We take in the scene for a while and my eyes follow Josh, in his distinctive red scarf, making his way carefully around the rink.

  ‘There’s only one thing wrong with this ice. It’s way too slippery,’ I joke.

  Seb chuckles and adjusts his position against the railing. ‘Yeah, they’re missing a trick here. They should have a “Less Slippery” area specially for beginners.’

  ‘Followed by a “Getting Slidier by the Minute” section?’

  Seb laughs. ‘Yeah. Then moving on to “Bloody Hell, That’s Treacherous”.’

  We’re still laughing when Josh comes whizzing over, misjudges his stopping distance and barrels into me. I catch him and ask him if he’s having a good time.