A Merry Little Christmas

by Julia Williams

‘Well, you know,’ said Pippa, grinning. ‘I have to do something to keep me out of mischief.’

  After a fractious start to the day, involving lost football boots (Nathan), a sudden meltdown about ‘forgotten’ Maths homework (George) and an unusual strop from Lucy about what she was going to wear that day, Pippa had spent the morning baking. As usual, having the delicious smell of cakes and muffins wafting through the kitchen calmed her nerves, and by the time she had put the finishing touches to her cupcakes, Pippa was in a much better frame of mind.

  Her mood was further improved by a couple of emails from interested local businesses whom she’d tentatively approached to see if they would be interested in getting involved in helping Sunshine Trust in some way. It was a small start, but it was something. As she was getting the cakes ready to take to Vera’s, Cat rang up to see if she wanted to go for a coffee, as she had some news about a possible TV programme.

  ‘I’m just off to take some cakes to Vera’s,’ said Pippa, ‘meet you in ten.’

  Having deposited her wares, Pippa bought a large latte and a toasted teacake and went to sit in a cosy corner of the café, near to the fireplace. A cold miserable February day was made much brighter by coffee and cake, she decided, while she waited for Cat to arrive. The coffee shop was packed with mums and toddlers, and as usual the place gave off a noisy happy vibe. Remembering how close Vera had come to losing her livelihood only a few years before, and how the community had come together to create such a brilliant and lively hub, gave Pippa renewed hope. Nothing was impossible if she put her mind to it.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ Cat came in shaking rain out of her umbrella. ‘I got stuck on a long phone call with my editor.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Pippa, ‘I’ve been having an enjoyable time sitting still and watching the world go by for once. So, what’s the score?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been putting some feelers out, and it’s possible the Beeb may be commissioning a series of programmes about cuts in social services and how they affect real people. And they may be looking at one on families who have special needs children. I’m sure they’d love to hear about you and Lucy.’

  ‘I don’t want it to be just about me,’ protested Pippa. ‘There are lots of other families affected too.’

  ‘Yes, but your story is an emotional one,’ argued Cat, ‘and if it helped get your campaign on the map, it would be worth doing.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Pippa reluctantly, not quite sure she could see herself as a TV star in the making. ‘So long as they concentrate on how we’re trying to save the respite services, I don’t see what harm it can do.’

  ‘You never know, you might even enjoy it,’ said Cat. ‘And I bet Lucy would.’

  ‘She’d certainly play up to the cameras,’ said Pippa. Lucy was a natural show-off, and Pippa could see her having a ball. ‘Thanks so much for doing this for me, Cat. I’m beginning to feel this isn’t quite such an uphill task.’

  ‘Have you thought about organising some fundraisers?’ said Cat. ‘When we were in London, some friends of ours used to organise an annual ball, with a charity auction for a local hospice. It made tons of money.’

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ said Pippa. ‘Perhaps we could do something coming up to Christmas.’

  ‘You could call it a Snow Ball,’ said Cat. ‘People could have fun while raising money. It’s a win-win situation.’

  ‘And I do love an opportunity to get glammed up,’ said Pippa, ruefully looking at the battered old Barbour, ragged jumper, jeans and wellies which was her default costume most days. ‘Being a farmer’s wife means you don’t often get the chance to. That’s a great idea, Cat.’

  Cat smiled. ‘Pleased to help,’ she said. ‘Where would be a good venue do you think?’

  ‘We could let you have Hopesay Manor for free, if you like.’ A figure dressed in black leathers who’d been sitting on the other side of the fireplace got up, holding out his hand. Pippa recognised him instantly as the handsome dark stranger who’d offered her advice the last time she’d been in here with Marianne. Suddenly the penny dropped.

  ‘You must be Michael Nicholas,’ she said. Everyone knew that Ralph’s nephew Michael had come to Hope Christmas to help run the family business while Ralph was away in the Maldives, but Pippa hadn’t met him before.

  ‘The very same,’ said Michael bowing. ‘I hope you don’t mind me interrupting, but I’m a Trustee of the Sunshine Trust, and I’d be happy to help.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Pippa. ‘That’s an amazingly generous offer.’

  ‘It would be my pleasure,’ said Michael, ‘nice to meet you, ladies. Cat, I hope Noel is getting used to me hanging around. I think my uncle made a very wise choice in hiring him.’

  ‘He did?’ Cat looked as bemused as Pippa felt. ‘Glad to hear it.’

  ‘Now if you two ladies will excuse me, I have business to attend to elsewhere,’ Michael said, bowing slightly again, before placing his crash helmet on his head, and walking out of the door.

  They watched him go into the square, climb on his motorbike and roar off into the dull February day.

  ‘Noel’s kept that quiet,’ said Cat.

  ‘What?’ said Pippa.

  ‘How good looking Michael Nicholas is,’ laughed Cat. ‘Just as well we’re both happily married women.’

  ‘Isn’t it just,’ said Pippa with a grin. ‘Such a shame though …’

  Marianne ran up the lane in a panic. She’d promised to get home early so she could help Steven go over a couple of practice papers. His exam was less than a week away, and he was getting very nervous. Damn Mrs bloody Garratt. She always seemed to have something urgent to tell Marianne at five-thirty. Before she’d joined the school, although everyone worked hard, and stayed late if they had to, most people left around five p.m. each day. Now you were seen as a slacker if you left before six p.m. Jean was incredibly generous, but Marianne was conscious that it was a long day for her with the twins, and Gabriel couldn’t always be guaranteed to be home in time to relieve his mum, so it was up to her to get back as soon as she could. Unfortunately, telling Mrs Garratt she had to get home because of childcare issues cut no ice. Despite having a child of her own, who was allegedly at nursery from seven a.m. to seven p.m., she gave no quarter to Marianne, the implication seeming to be, if I can do it, so can you. The phrase, work/life balance was clearly lost on her.

  The warmth of the house hit her, as she eventually got in from the cold. And the unwonted exercise had made her a little breathless. She really did need to get out walking a bit more, but what with work, looking after the twins and Steven, there was precious little time for Marianne to get exercising at the moment. It wasn’t as if Gabriel didn’t help out, it was just that farming was even less forgiving than teaching in sucking up all your time. He seemed to have been working harder than ever recently. There were some days when she’d barely seen him.

  As she dumped her bags down and took off her coat and scarf in the hall, she realised she could hear raised voices coming from the lounge.

  ‘Dad, you don’t get it!’ Steven was standing mutinously shouting at Gabriel, who had one baby in his arms, while the other grabbed his legs, giggling. Marianne’s first instinct was to giggle too, he looked so comical, but then she saw the set and angry look on Gabe’s face.

  ‘I do get it, Steven, but there’s no need to be rude!’ said Gabriel. ‘I know you’ve got your exam next week, but Marianne has got a lot on …’

  ‘It’s okay,’ interrupted Marianne, ‘I was late back, I’m sorry. I had promised to help,’ she said gently.

  ‘I don’t want your help!’ said Steven raging. ‘I know you both want me to fail anyway.’ He threw the books he’d been carrying onto the floor, and stormed past Marianne, slamming the door shut behind him, making the whole house quiver.

  ‘What was all that about?’ said Marianne, extricating Daisy from Gabriel’s legs.

  ‘Steven was having a meltdown,’ Gabriel replied, running his hands
wearily through his hair.

  ‘Look, he’s probably just stressed about the exam,’ said Marianne. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll get the twins ready for bed, and then I’ll go through the papers with him.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ said Gabriel.

  ‘I do,’ said Marianne, warmly. ‘I promised. It’s not his fault that Misery Guts Garratt delights in making my life a misery.’

  Gabriel kissed Marianne on the top of her head. ‘Come on, we’ll sort these two out together,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll tackle Steven.’

  At least, she had Gabriel’s support, Marianne thought, even if she felt she was being pulled in too many directions at once.

  Chapter Six

  ‘So, are you all prepared, Steven?’ said Marianne with a smile, as she prepared his breakfast while attempting to feed the twins their porridge. With one hand she was stirring scrambled eggs, and the other was shoving porridge into whichever baby had their mouth open at the time. She’d never known the meaning of the phrase multi-tasking until she became a mother.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ said Gabriel, giving his son an encouraging smile, as he put some bread in the toaster. Marianne had spent the last few weeks coaching Steven for his exam, and today was the big day.

  ‘Okay,’ said Steven. ‘My tummy feels a bit funny.’

  ‘That’s perfectly normal,’ said Marianne. ‘Everyone feels like that before tests.’

  ‘And all you can do is your best,’ said Gabriel.

  ‘What do you care, you don’t even want me to go!’ burst out Steven, before hunkering down at the table to eat his breakfast.

  Gabriel opened his mouth as if to say something, but Marianne shushed him. ‘Ignore it, he’s just nervous,’ she whispered.

  Marianne and Gabriel had both decided to go along with Steven, leaving the twins with Jean. Gabriel was worried that Eve and Darren would be there too.

  ‘They’re bound to wind him up, if they come,’ he had said to Marianne as they’d gone to bed last night.

  ‘Try not to think about it,’ said Marianne, but she knew Gabe was probably right. Eve had ‘wind-up’ hardwired into her system.

  While Jean was looking after the twins, Gabriel’s dad, David, was out on the fields of the day. Despite being officially retired, he frequently helped Gabriel and Dan out on the farm when he could.

  ‘Good luck, Steven, I’m sure you won’t need it,’ said Jean, managing to elicit the first smile from Steven of the day.

  They drove pretty much in silence the fifty miles or so to the small cathedral town of Middleminster, each alone with their thoughts. Gabe, Marianne knew, was feeling nervous for his son, but anxious about the future, and guilty for half wishing Steven wouldn’t get in.

  ‘I know I should want this for him,’ Gabriel had told her the previous night, ‘but I hate the thought of him being away from us. I hate the fact that I can’t seem to want what’s best for him.’

  ‘Whatever will be, will be,’ said Marianne. ‘Let’s just get him through the test first, and hope everything works out for the best.’

  She was still hoping that as they eventually arrived at Middleminster. Steven was a clever boy, and had done well in the practice tests she’d done with him. But she didn’t know how stiff the competition was, and he was very young. Nerves could let him down on the day.

  They entered the school via an impressively long drive, with sweeping views of frosty fields overlooking the pretty medieval town of Middleminster, and pulled up in front of an imposing redbrick Victorian building, where queues of small boys were lining up to go in for the exam.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Gabriel, looking in dismay at the numbers. ‘I’d no idea there would be so many of them taking the exam.’

  Eve, who’d clearly been waiting for them, leapt out of her car with Darren following behind, and ran up to Steven, and gave him a hug.

  ‘Go and knock ’em dead, kid,’ she said. ‘I know you can do it.’

  ‘See, someone will be pleased I get in,’ said Steven.

  Gabriel said, ‘Of course I’ll be pleased.’

  ‘So will we be,’ said Eve. ‘Darren will give you a BlackBerry when you pass.’

  Gabriel was about to protest, but Marianne nudged him as they saw the look on Steven’s face, so they both said nothing.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ Steven said, his face lighting up at the sight of her. Marianne felt sad, despite herself. No matter how many years she’d looked after Steven when his mum was unable to – she could never replace Eve. Not that she wanted to, but seeing how happy Steven was to be with his mum, she wondered if it had been right for him to be away from Eve so long, however flaky she was.

  Hours passed slowly in the school café, where Marianne and Gabriel felt obliged to make polite conversation with Eve and Darren. Although by the time they’d heard for the zillionth time just how big Darren’s Christmas bonus had been, Marianne felt like screaming. She had never met anyone so incredibly self-centred and money orientated in her life. He clearly had no interest in what she and Gabriel did, and she suspected, precious little interest in Steven. Unfair of her or not, Marianne had the distinct impression Darren was only getting so involved to impress Eve, because while the rest of them frequently checked their watches and fretted how Steven was getting on, Darren almost seemed to have forgotten why they were there.

  Never had three hours passed so slowly, but eventually it was over, and hundreds of small boys poured out of the examination hall, ready to be reunited with their parents. Marianne spotted Steven in the middle of them, a small pale looking figure with an air of defeat about him. She longed to go and hug him, but knew that would be counterproductive, as Steven was very clear that hugging in public was way too embarrassing for an eleven-year-old.

  ‘How did it go?’ asked Gabriel carefully.

  ‘Awful,’ said Steven and burst into tears. ‘It was really difficult. I’m sure I’ve failed.’

  He looked so miserable that, forgetting her resolution, Marianne automatically gave him a hug.

  ‘I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that,’ she said. ‘Exams often seem worse than they are. Maybe we could go through some of your answers together.’

  ‘I think what Steven needs is to forget all about it,’ said Darren.

  ‘I know,’ said Eve, ‘why don’t Darren and I take you out for the afternoon? I’m sure it will all work out. That will be okay, won’t it, Gabriel? We’ll bring him home for seven.’

  ‘Oh please. Can I?’ Steven’s face lit up.

  Gabriel looked at Marianne helplessly.

  ‘Of course, that’s fine.’

  ‘Great,’ said Steven. ‘Mum, you’re the best.’

  Hardly glancing back at Gabriel and Marianne, he walked off excitedly with his mum and Darren, talking nineteen to the dozen.

  ‘Great,’ said Gabriel heavily as they watched him go. ‘Why do I get the feeling we’re losing him?’

  Marianne gave him a reassuring hug. It was on the tip of her tongue to say don’t be silly, but looking at how cheerful Steven seemed, it was hard not to dispute Gabriel’s gloom. The trouble was, if Steven wanted to spend more time with Eve and Darren, there was very little they could do about it – whether she and Gabriel liked it or not.

  Pippa was at home with Lucy, who was having an inset day. It was nice to have Lucy to herself. At the weekends, when the boys were here, Pippa felt conscious that sometimes, in her bid not to let the boys miss out, she didn’t spend enough time just being with Lucy. Despite her wheelchair, and her inability to talk directly, Lucy had a lively and vivacious personality, and through her electronic keyboard could convey more than adequately how she felt about things. The keyboard was a fairly new acquisition which had come about at the suggestion of Kim from the Sunshine Trust, and it had transformed their lives. Lucy had always managed to get on with other children, but now, to Pippa’s delight, she’d been able to strike up a proper friendship with Ruby, Cat’s youngest, who seemed to have a total blindnes
s when it came to Lucy’s disability. The two girls shared a similar sense of mischief, and Ruby was often round now at the weekends, which Pippa had to admit made life a lot easier.

  You sorted my care out yet? Lucy keyed in, as she overheard Pippa’s long conversation with Claire King about their options (none) should the respite care be taken away altogether.

  ‘What do you think?’ Pippa rolled her eyes at her daughter.

  Slacker, keyed Lucy, and laughed her head off.

  ‘Cheeky,’ said Pippa grinning. Thank God for Lucy’s sense of humour. It made the tough bits bearable. ‘But I’m working on it, so there. I’m just going to make some phone calls now.’

  Talking to Clare King was having the effect of galvanising her into action. Every time Claire put an obstacle in her path, Pippa felt duty bound to clear it away.

  She rang up the first of two companies who’d contacted her. It was a medical equipment company, who wanted, ‘To give something back,’ as the director told her. The second company made some positive noises, but she couldn’t get anything more concrete out of them.

  ‘These are difficult times,’ the friendly lady on the other end of the phone said, ‘so I’m afraid we can’t commit at the moment, but keep in touch, and maybe things will be different in a few months’ time.’

  ‘Thanks, that’s very kind of you,’ Pippa said, she gave the thumbs-up to Lucy, who grinned at her. ‘I’ll do that.’

  She put the phone down and high-fived her daughter.

  ‘See, not such a slacker after all,’ she said.

  Okay. I let you off, typed Lucy.

  ‘You better had,’ said Pippa, with a grin, ‘I’m working my socks off for you.’

  She filed the details of her phone calls away, and made a note of the dates she’d arranged for her meetings on the calendar, before thinking about what to cook for lunch. As if on cue, Dan walked in from a morning’s hard graft.

  ‘How are my gorgeous girls today?’

  ‘Ugh, you smell of cows and pigs,’ said Pippa, pushing him away in a mock serious way.