by Susan Lewis
‘She certainly has,’ Carla told him.
‘So let me get her to apologize,’ he said. ‘If she won’t, then OK, she’s off the production. If she does, it’s going to save you having to find someone else and prepare them for the role at this short notice.’
Realizing that to continue this would only spoil the evening, Carla said, ‘I don’t want to hear her apology tonight, but you can tell her from me, she’d better make it good in the morning.’
‘Got you,’ Yale said, and headed so fast out of the kitchen he slammed himself with the door as he yanked it open.
Carla and Avril giggled, then Carla said, ‘So she thinks I was the one who vetoed her casting, when, did she but know it, it was her good friend Chrissie.’
‘Are you going to tell her that?’
‘I don’t know. I might. We’ll see what happens. But let’s forget her now, or it’ll only start me thinking about Richard, and I was having such a great time before she slithered in.’
‘As you shall again,’ Avril declared, and, linking arms, she marched them both back out to dance.
Not until after midnight did the first people start to leave, by which time Avril had exhausted her second wind and was well into her third, as she and Carla joined in an hilarious conversation with Phoebe and Sonya, neither of whom seemed to be listening to the other. One lamented the ties of motherhood, while the other wondered if it would be a bad career move to accept a modelling job in Milan. Frazer, who was swaying about in the confusion, managed some sympathy for both, while Mark fell asleep, and Hugo and Felicia pressed up against each other, supposedly smooching, to a dreamy ballad by the Back Street Boys. For the moment John was nowhere to be seen, but as Sonya hotly declared that no-one cared as much about their kids as she did, and Phoebe responded with a vehement demand that her credibility as an actress should remain intact, he came out of the kitchen and joined them.
No-one, except Carla, seemed to notice when he slipped an arm round her shoulders, and even she pretended not to, which was probably safest considering the way her body was responding. Besides, it was simply an idle gesture, and to start making something of it would be ridiculous. So she just carried on with the others, laughing and chatting, as they mimicked Sonya and Phoebe with non sequiturs of their own, while tossing back what was left of the champagne.
She wasn’t sure at what point she became aware of John looking at her, all she knew was the strangeness of feeling her attention being drawn from the crowd. Nothing physical had happened, his embrace hadn’t tightened, nor had her body moved, yet, when she tried to carry on with the madness, she found his magnetism too strong to resist, and the heat in her body too intense to control. In the end, unable to do anything else, she turned her head, and as their eyes met the burn of desire surged through her so powerfully that her lips opened to catch her breath.
‘Happy birthday,’ he said. His voice was almost drowned by a sudden whoop of laughter, but she heard him.
She continued to look at him, and did nothing as his mouth came softly to hers in a kiss that felt so intimate her breath simply stopped. Lifting his head again he gazed into her eyes, and smiled when she gave a small gasp for air, which made her smile too.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
His eyes were still on hers. ‘Time to go,’ he said. ‘See you in the morning,’ and without a word to anyone else, he left.
It was Christmas morning and bedlam reigned. Carla and Avril had decorated the cottage like a grotto, with presents hidden everywhere for the children, who swooped on them with rowdy delight when they arrived with Mark and Sonya, bringing a mountain of other new toys with them. In no time at all they were hooting, squawking, jangling and boom-boxing around the place, trampling festive paper, bows and ribbons all over the floor, while Sonya and Mark attempted to make breakfast, and Carla and Avril writhed, wriggled and jived in time to Courtenay’s drums. Eddie was having a whale of a time too, with his new chewy bones, and a set of four dog boots that Avril had brought him from the States. Watching him high-stepping around the garden in these peculiar contraptions had been the funniest spectacle of the day so far. Now, Santa’s singalong was blaring out of the TV, not quite drowning out Steps on Kitty’s new CD player, while along the road the church bells were going at full pelt while they all rushed to get ready.
‘Come on, we’re going to be late!’ Sonya shouted over the din.
‘I don’t want to go to church,’ Kitty shouted back.
‘Get your coat on!’
‘Can I take Buzz Lightyear?’ Courtenay asked, looking up at his dad with big blue eyes.
‘Has anyone checked the turkey?’ Carla called, coming down the stairs.
‘I just did,’ Avril called back from the kitchen.
‘Dad! You just trod on Barbie’s head!’ Kitty wailed. ‘Oh, Dad!’
‘I’m sorry,’ Mark responded.
‘Fancy treading on Barbie’s head,’ Carla snorted as she passed.
Mark shot her a look. ‘Come on,’ he said to Kitty, holding up her coat. ‘Arms in.’
‘Bloody hell!’ she grumbled. ‘I don’t want to go to church.’
Carla’s and Sonya’s eyes met as they both suppressed a smile, before Sonya launched into the necessary reprimand.
‘Can we go to the pub?’ Courtenay wanted to know.
‘On the way back.’
‘I want to take my drums,’ he cried, jumping up and down. Then, ‘Auntie Avril, I can see your knicks.’
‘Oh, you told her,’ Carla groaned, and laughed as Avril tugged the hem of her skirt out of her panties.
Five minutes later they stumbled out of the house, still dragging on coats and scarves, and headed off to church. After putting their hearts and souls into the carols, and shivering through the sermon and prayers, they surged back out into the crisp, sunny morning and made for the pub. Everyone from the village was arriving, with the exception of Fleur and Perry, who’d gone off to Sedona, in Arizona, for a fortnight’s commune with all things spiritual and spatial.
‘They took us out in their transit before they left,’ Gayle told Carla and Avril, shouting to make herself heard above the jostling crowd in the pub.
‘Not UFO spotting?’ Carla cried, laughing.
‘You can mock, but I’m telling you, I never had any idea so many people were into it. There must’ve been a hundred or more, all in their earthbound spacecrafts watching out for ET and his mates. And you should see all the flippin’ technology they’ve got, computers, scanners, radios, transmitters, satellite dishes … Must have cost them a fortune.’
Avril was laughing too. ‘Where did you go?’ she asked.
‘Stonehenge. Where else?’
‘So, did you see anything?’ Carla wanted to know.
‘Did we heck. But it was dead spooky, I can tell you. You really got the impression something could happen with all that bleeping and pinging and crackling going on. Isn’t that right, Joe?’ she said to her husband, who was squeezing through the crowd with a couple of drinks. ‘I was just telling them about our night out with Fleur and Perry.’
Joe was about to answer when Maudie poked him hard in the back. ‘You got a nerve putting your face in a Christian church, you devil-worshipper, you!’ she snarled.
Carla and Avril grinned.
Joe turned to Maudie, his eyes rolling in their sockets, his lips trembling as he let forth a sudden stream of gibberish. ‘Okee anocki abo bluba,’ he chanted.
Maudie shrank back, and rapidly made the sign of the cross, as he raised his arms and loomed after her like a monster.
‘Get back here,’ Gayle laughed, grabbing his collar. ‘You’re such a wind-up with all that. She really believes it, you know.’
‘No, she doesn’t,’ he replied. ‘She loves it. Gives her something else to have a go about.’ He took a sip of beer and, turning to Avril, said, ‘So, how’s Hollywood?’
‘Dull compared to Cannock Martin,’ she responded. ‘At last!’ she cried, as Mark broke through the c
ongestion with drinks for her and Carla.
‘They’re from Graham,’ Mark informed them. ‘He’s over by the bar, apparently buying for everyone.’
‘He does that every Christmas,’ Carla reminded him.
‘Hey! Carla!’ Sylvia shouted from behind a beer pump. ‘Phone for you!’
‘For me?’ She looked at Avril, mystified. ‘No-one knows I’m here.’
‘Well obviously someone does,’ Avril responded.
Curious, Carla handed Avril her drink, then shoved her way through to the bar.
‘Take it round the back,’ Sylvia said. ‘Can’t hear yourself think out here.’
Slipping through to the storeroom, Carla unhooked the receiver on the wall, and put it to her ear. ‘Hello?’ she said, pressing a finger to her other ear.
All she could hear was the noise of the bar, until Sylvia put the extension down, cutting off at least some of it.
‘Hello?’ she said again.
‘Carla?’
‘Who is this?’ Carla said. ‘Can you speak up, I can hardly hear you.’
The voice was faint, and definitely female, but it was impossible to distinguish the words fully as she said, ‘… speak to … The house … You’ve got …’
‘I’m sorry,’ Carla shouted. ‘I can’t hear you. You’ll have to speak louder.’ She waited, but there was no response. ‘Hello?’ she shouted. ‘Are you still there?’ But it didn’t seem anyone was, so in the end she hung up and returned to the bar.
‘Bizarre,’ she remarked to Avril and Sonya, who’d left Mark in charge of the kids on the swings outside. ‘No idea who it was, I couldn’t make out what she was saying.’
‘But it was a woman?’ Sonya said.
‘Yes, it was definitely a woman.’ Her nerves were on edge as she thought of the intruder Maudie had seen and wondered if there was a connection.
Avril was watching her closely, remembering the intruder too, but she let it go when Carla suddenly smiled brightly and said, ‘Well, if it’s important she’ll call back.’
‘Whoever she is,’ Sonya added, staggering as someone pushed past her. Carla grabbed her and said, ‘Did you hear from Greg, by the way?’
‘No. Did you?’
‘Who?’ Avril wanted to know.
‘My other brother,’ Carla reminded her. ‘I spoke to him just before I left London,’ she told Sonya. ‘He’s not coming down over Christmas.’
‘Well, there’s a surprise! Wifey won’t let him, I suppose?’
‘I think that’s about it,’ Carla responded. ‘Apparently they’re going to her parents, as usual. Anyone would think he didn’t have a family the way she carries on.’
‘She’s such a bitch,’ Sonya commented.
‘I know. But not everyone can be as perfect a sister-in-law as you.’
Sonya nodded gravely. ‘True,’ she responded.
Laughing, Avril said, ‘Come on, who’s for another G & T before we get slung out of here?’
‘I’ll get them,’ Carla insisted, swiping the glasses.
Pushing a path back to the counter, she squeezed herself in next to Graham and shouted, ‘Merry Christmas!’
‘Merry Christmas,’ he shouted back, his face lighting up.
‘The pen was fantastic,’ she told him, referring to the gold Cartier he’d given her. ‘I’ll really treasure it.’
‘And I loved the socks,’ he grinned, ‘especially the ones that play “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, and shed opal cufflinks when you put them on.’
Laughing, she admired the cufflinks as he flashed his wrists to show her, then raised his trouser bottoms to reveal his jazzy socks.
‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ she wanted to know. ‘Would you like to come for lunch? Leftover turkey, chips and pickled onions?’
His eyes crinkled with laughter. ‘How can I resist?’ he said. ‘And as Betty’s gone to her sister’s, I shall be happy to have the company.’
Carla was aghast. ‘She’s left you on your own at Christmas!’ she cried. ‘Then you must come today. We can always make room for one more.’
‘No, no,’ he protested. ‘Tomorrow’s fine.’
‘No. I’m putting my foot down. You’re coming back with us today. We can’t have you on your own at Christmas. It’s simply not allowed.’
He was smiling at her fondly. ‘OK, if you insist, but you must let me bring something.’
‘Like what? We’ve already got enough food to feed half of Somerset.’
‘Ah, but I have some very fine bottles of wine in my cellar. Perhaps I can contribute a few of them.’
Carla rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t think you’ll get any objection to that,’ she told him. ‘Oh God, Teddy! What happened to you?’ she cried, as Teddy Best appeared with a black patch over one eye.
‘I was Santa, over at the school,’ he grumbled, ‘and one of the little buggers nearly poked my eyeball out with some radio-controlled gadget.’
‘Well, you look very rakish,’ she told him. ‘Now, what are you having to drink?’
Not until the pub was ready to close did everyone start spilling out on to the street and making their way home. By then Mark had already taken the kids back to the cottage, so it was left to Carla and Avril to help a carol-singing Sonya weave her way across the road, while Graham popped home to get the promised wine.
At last, just after four o’clock, the seven of them were squashed around the table in Carla’s kitchen, plates piled high with turkey, roast potatoes, roast parsnips, cabbage, peas, carrots, sprouts, big dollops of cranberry sauce, and a delicious chestnut-flavoured gravy made by Avril. Even Eddie had a helping, though his was served in his usual bowl, over in its usual spot by the back door, where Carla had put a special little Christmas tree just for him.
‘OK, who’s saying grace?’ Carla wanted to know, as Sonya finished dishing up for the children.
‘Grace!’ Kitty shouted.
‘Very funny. You do it, Mark.’
Mark started, got interrupted by Eddie, barking, then by his son feeling sick, then by his wife telling him to hurry up. So he gabbled the last couple of lines and hoisted up his glass. ‘Toast!’ he declared. ‘Merry Christmas to one and all. And to Graham for supplying this tasty vintage. And to the rest of us for drinking it. And to …’
‘Shut up and drink,’ Sonya told him, busily clinking glasses with everyone else.
‘Nectar,’ Mark declared, after rolling the first sip around his palate.
‘Can I have some?’ Courtenay asked.
‘No,’ Mark answered. ‘Drink your Coke.’ Then, turning back to Graham, ‘So, you were telling me about your new book. You reckon it’s about finished?’
Graham chuckled. ‘Oh, still a couple of months away yet,’ he answered. ‘But for me, that’s almost finished.’
‘How long have you been working on this one?’ Avril wanted to know.
‘A couple of years.’
‘What’s it about?’ Sonya asked, taking a mouthful of food.
‘Oh, it’s the usual detective-thriller stuff.’
‘He’s so modest,’ Carla said. ‘All his books are best-sellers, and no-one, but no-one, writes like he does. That’s what makes his work so unique and compelling – I’m quoting now from …’ she looked at Graham, ‘the Guardian? Or was it the Independent?’
‘I don’t know,’ he smiled, tearing his eyes from the photograph of Carla’s mother that was on the dresser beside him. ‘One of them. It doesn’t really matter, as long as people go out and buy.’
‘So how come you didn’t go up north with Betty?’ Sonya asked.
‘Oh, she’s happier up there without me hanging around. Goodness knows, we see enough of each other, and it’s not much fun living with someone who’s shut up in his study all day, and never talks about anything real at the end of it.’
‘What do you mean, real?’ Mark said.
‘We tend to talk about my work a lot. She’s got a first-class mind for detail, and I try most things
out on her before I get to work on them. Then we go over them after they’re written … Gets a bit tedious, I imagine, especially when she doesn’t have many friends to break the monotony with. Now, that’s enough about me, let’s put someone else in the spotlight. How about you, young man?’ he said to Courtenay. ‘What did you have for Christmas?’
‘I’ve got some drums,’ Courtenay told him.
‘And I got a pushchair, and a cot and three dolls and a CD player,’ Kitty piped up.
‘You had a lot more than that,’ Mark grumbled.
Sonya was helping herself to more cranberry. ‘So what’s John Rossmore doing for Christmas?’ she asked Carla.
With a mouthful of food, Carla shrugged and looked at Avril, glad that no-one could know how the mention of John’s name had just caused her insides to flutter.
‘He’s in France,’ Avril answered.
‘France, eh?’ Sonya said, sounding impressed. ‘What, he’s got a house there, or something?’
‘I think so. Or someone in his family has. They’re all going, apparently. His mother and father, his sisters and their husbands, brother and girlfriend.’
Carla wondered if the girlfriend belonged to the brother, or John, but didn’t ask.
‘Where in France?’ Graham enquired.
‘South. Théoule-sur-Mer,’ Avril told him, looking at Carla and attempting not to grin.
Noticing, Sonya looked at Carla too.
‘What?’ Carla said.
Sonya’s eyes moved from one to the other. ‘OK, what’s going on?’ she demanded. ‘What haven’t I been told?’
‘Nothing,’ Carla said. ‘I don’t know why she’s looking at me like that.’
Sonya turned to Avril. So did Mark and Graham.
Avril’s eyes were dancing, ‘She didn’t tell you about the birthday kiss?’ she said to Sonya.
Carla immediately reddened. ‘What about it?’ she cried. ‘It was no different to anyone else’s. Anyway, Sonya was there.’
‘Was I?’ Sonya said, bemused.
Avril grinned. ‘You were. So was I. And from where I was standing, it was a lot different to everyone else’s.’
‘How did I manage to miss it?’ Sonya demanded. ‘Did you see?’ she asked Mark. ‘What am I talking about, you were asleep. So what happened?’ she said to Avril.
