The Christmas Promise

by Sue Moorcroft

  Ava regarded her with horror. ‘I wasn’t! He helped me out because I – unknowingly and unintentionally – gave him the idea for your campaign.’

  Ruby’s eyes rounded between the sweeps of liquid liner that coated her lids. ‘You pulled off getting Jermyn’s working for you for nothing and don’t even know how you did it? That’s impressive, babes. Well agile.’

  Gulping the champagne, feeling worse and worse, Ava gazed at Ruby pleadingly. ‘I didn’t! Sam just involved me. I wouldn’t have known where to start.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Ruby did the eye thing again. ‘I wish he’d “just involve” me instead of sending me a big hairy invoice.’

  When Ruby had left, cheered by half a bottle of Cristal, Ava curled up miserably in the green chair, her conscience twanging like a cheap guitar.

  Finally, she snatched up her laptop and sent an email to Sam, Manda Jane, Emily, Patrick, Tod, Jake and Ruby.

  Subject: Campaign

  Dear Everybody,

  I owe you all a million thanks for involving me so kindly in Ruby’s campaign. I truly appreciate the creative genius and hard work that made it happen, and Sam’s and Ruby’s generosity. It will make a huge difference to Ava Bliss Millinery.

  Ava x

  Then she trailed off down to Camden High Street because if she was going to Sam’s for Christmas Day then she couldn’t go empty handed, even if the thought of Christmas shopping made her feel like running laps of the house and wailing like a siren.

  Late that evening, when the presents were wrapped, and Ava had Skyped her parents and steadily made her way through a bottle of Zinfandel that was her Christmas present to herself, she received a reply to her earlier email from Sam.

  Glad it worked for you.

  Intend to pick you up 10 a.m. on Christmas Day. Let me know if this isn’t OK.

  Well, it wasn’t really. But it would have to be.

  Christmas Eve

  Ava made a bit of a slow start on Christmas Eve, owing to the Zinfandel of the evening before.

  Having deliberately left completing Wendy’s hat until today to keep her occupied, she played loud music so that she wouldn’t realise how quiet the house was while she fanned the peacock feathers and stitched them and the gold ribbon in place.

  She placed the finished article on a stand and took a couple of photos for her website gallery, boxed it, and fixed more gold ribbon on the outside.

  Then, having bought some glowing scarlet jersey silk yesterday, she set about making a soft and silky hat, pleated and draped coyly to one side and studded with a spray of tiny black felt flowers. It was the sort of hair-loss hat that Wendy could wear anywhere from bed to a restaurant, warm, soft and sweet. Much like Wendy herself.

  That was the last present to wrap.

  There. All she had left to do was live through Christmas Day, the culmination of all the faux dating.

  Then it would be over.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The final faux date

  Christmas Day

  Even for someone who wasn’t a big Christmas fan, waking up entirely alone on Christmas Day was strange.

  Ava Skyped her parents, catching them drinking Buck’s Fizz with the ex-pats and neighbours for whom they’d apparently opened the café side of Le Café Littéraire Anglais. Graeme turned the laptop around so that Ava could see the guests in their Christmas finery around a tree laden with silver and red baubles. ‘Wish everybody Merry Christmas!’

  ‘Merry Christmas!’ called Ava, obligingly. Being a virtual presence felt like the cyber equivalent of being in a bubble, able to see and speak and hear but not to exchange hugs, taste the wine or breathe in the spices on the air.

  A forest of glasses waved in front of beaming smiles. ‘Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noël!’

  Graham and Katherine turned the laptop back to face them and enquired anxiously about her plans for the day. ‘We really want you out here next year, sweetheart.’

  ‘Put it in your diary now!’ Katherine urged.

  Ava tried her best to make ‘everything’s fine, my Christmas is sorted’ noises. She could tell by her parents’ expressions that they weren’t convinced, but she was glad that they didn’t press her. She was so on edge that she felt she could wobble off and not know where she’d find herself.

  After the conversation ended on another chorus of ‘Joyeux Noël!’ Ava breakfasted with CapitalFM. Then she opened her present from Tod and Louise. Usually Tod’s gifts were jokey or more about what he would have wanted than what Ava might like. But this year Ava assumed Louise had advised his present buying – an oatmeal cardigan guaranteed to appeal to the over sixties.

  Izz’s gift was much more ‘her’ – a silver cat that presented its tail for her to store her rings on.

  Ava shoved the cardigan in a drawer, sat the cat on her dressing table and, after she’d showered, dried her hair and plaited a section across the top of her head. She slipped into a bright red jumper dress and was ready for when Sam arrived. Carefully, she put the presents she was going to give with Wendy’s hatbox in the hall.

  By the time Sam turned up Ava was feeling jittery, hoping that Wendy and Vanessa would be in the car so that Ava wouldn’t be alone with Sam. Or, alone with Sam plus a horrible atmosphere.

  Wendy and Vanessa were not in the car.

  The atmosphere was.

  Ava and Sam exchanged polite Merry Christmases and Ava watched Sam stow the hatbox in the boot then she slid into the passenger side of the car. Today was going to be a nightmare, the gulf between them dark and deep.

  They travelled through the oddly empty streets for several minutes. Ava felt the need to break the silence. ‘How’s your mother?’

  ‘Tired, but determined to enjoy Christmas. I left Aunt Van with strict instructions to restrain Mum from doing anything in the kitchen while I fetched you.’

  ‘I hope that she enjoys the day.’

  ‘So do I. It’s all about her.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Ava watched out of the window as the buildings slid past. She didn’t think that she’d been driven through London on Christmas Day before and the lack of traffic was almost eerie. Soon the garish decorations and coloured lights would be gone and the streets would turn to grey January normality.

  There ought to be a colour named January Grey, she thought, maybe for top hats for winter weddings. The wedding flowers could be white and lavender; the bridesmaids’ dresses navy watered silk. A winter’s day palette.

  She tried to think about wedding hats because if half of the emails in her inbox came to anything she’d soon be flat-out working on hats and fascinators. That ought to fill her with joy. She expected it would, soon. When she’d got over Christmas. Over Sam.

  She suddenly realised that they’d turned into a side road. ‘Where are we?’ She peered through the windscreen at a splash of green ahead.

  ‘Highbury Fields.’ Sam found a place to park and switched off the ignition.

  ‘Why have we stopped here?’ She was pretty sure they were only about half way between Camden Town and Stratford.

  His expression was guarded. ‘Elephants in the car. I think it would be best if we at least gave them a chance to disembark before we get to my place.’

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t pretend not to understand. ‘I’ve been worrying about it all morning. What if we can’t pretend we like each other? Then there’s no point in this whole dating and Christmas charade. We’re only doing it because of Wendy.’ Unshed tears made her throat ache. ‘I know it could have been different.’

  ‘But now’s not the time to get into that. Not today.’

  ‘I understand. Your mum told me about Mariah. It must make it worse that it’s Christmas again.’

  His face stilled. ‘What about Mariah?’

  Ava scrabbled in her handbag for a tissue, more to give herself something to do than because she thought she’d need it. She’d tamped down hard on the urge to cry and even his apprehensive expression when she mentione
d Mariah wasn’t going to unblock it if she could help it. ‘Wendy said it was Christmas when you found out about her and your best friend and that you haven’t dated since. Christmas must be a rubbish time for you.’

  He stared for several seconds, then snorted a half-laugh, his face softening. ‘Does Mum think I’ve been nursing a broken heart?’

  Ava halted in her tissue search. ‘Well … yes, I think so. She said that you were in love with Mariah and was gutted when she … when your friend … when you found out—’

  He shook his head, still smiling, but reminiscently. ‘It wasn’t quite as you make it sound. I was never in love with Mariah. I was in lust with her. Most red-blooded males would be.’ Rubbing his jaw ruefully, he laughed again. ‘The truth is that it was never serious. She began seeing my mate, Elliot, too. I was uncomfortable with that and backed off but wasn’t prepared for how I’d feel when she told me that she and Elliot were committing. I was a sore loser and said it wouldn’t last, which alienated both of them. Elliot said my behaviour was about me seeing Mariah as a trophy. I didn’t take well to that hypothesis.’ Sighing, he shifted in his seat. ‘But they’re still together and they’ve bought a house and an engagement ring, which leaves me with egg on my face and having lost a good friend for a bad reason.’

  He blew out a breath. ‘I hadn’t realised that Mum had filled in the blanks for herself and decided I was heartbroken. But it makes sense of her anxiety to—’

  ‘See you in a relationship with me?’ she ended for him. She made her voice bright and positive. ‘Well, now you can explain how things really were with Mariah, and Wendy will accept the end to the faux dating without being upset.’ She pulled her coat around herself. The interior of the car was cooling down, hastened by the icy reminder that after today the faux dating would end.

  ‘I think Mum’s emotional attachment to the idea of “us” goes a little deeper than merely wanting me to be happy. She thinks a lot of you.’ She felt his gaze on her for several seconds while she struggled to maintain a neutral expression. Then he leaned in close and brushed a kiss on her cheek. ‘Merry Christmas, Ava. You’re a good person and I appreciate you spending the day with us for Mum’s sake.’

  She bared her teeth in a smile, not remotely warmed by such an impersonal, you’re-just-an-acquaintance kiss. ‘It’s not as if I was inundated with options.’

  His frown fleeted back across his brows. But he just said, ‘Let’s go, then.’

  Sam’s flat had received the Christmas treatment since Ava had seen it last. She detected the hands of Wendy and Vanessa in the wreath on the door and the tree in the corner of the lounge area, hung with baubles and crowned by a little white ragdoll fairy with silver tinsel hair and suggestively puckered lips.

  Wendy shoved aside a table decoration of berried holly as soon as Ava stepped into the room. ‘We thought you’d got lost!’ She beamed, pulling Ava into a warm hug. ‘I’m sorry that your family are abroad so you can’t be with them but it’s so lovely for us to have you here.’

  Ava’s last doubts about the wisdom of joining the Jermyn Christmas were vanquished by the pleasure on Wendy’s face.

  While Ava reacquainted herself with Snickers and Mars, who muscled their way into the gathering with windmill tails and Labrador laughing faces, Vanessa waited patiently in the hug queue. ‘If a couple loses half an hour on a comparatively short journey, Wendy, it’s discreet not to mention it.’

  Wendy giggled while Ava made a fuss of Snickers and Mars so that she didn’t have to look at Sam at the word ‘couple’. Sam hung up the coats and turned to the business of the day. ‘Right, you lot, out of the kitchen, especially you, dogs. I’ve got stuff to do.’

  ‘I can help,’ volunteered all three women simultaneously.

  Sam gave his mother a stern look. ‘You? No. You’re absolutely not going to help. The most you’re going to do is sit down and watch. You,’ he said to his aunt, ‘are supposed to be on holiday.’ He moved his gaze to Ava. ‘I might let you help, working on the basis that you’re the only one who doesn’t try to boss me about.’

  ‘Big of you.’ Ava felt her tension ratchet down a notch or two. Sam teasing she could cope with. It produced a more natural result than the stilted politeness with which they had begun the day. She sniffed appreciatively. ‘Something already smells good.’

  ‘Duck cooking slowly in foil with truffles and baby onions. Potatoes go in now, then roasting veg, homemade bread sauce and stuffing, then steamed veg.’ He slipped a magazine out of a drawer and waved it – ‘Christmas cooking for idiots – can’t go wrong’– then he frowned at the page. ‘How are you with gravy? Because I bet I can go wrong with that.’

  Ava grinned. ‘I can manage gravy if you put a glass of wine in my hand.’

  ‘Drinks! You can help with those as well because I need my attention for the potatoes.’

  ‘But what about presents?’ Wendy pretended to pout.

  ‘After dinner.’

  ‘Noooooooooo!’ Wendy clutched her scalp, shining through its suede covering. ‘You promised me a hat. I need a hat. Look at my head.’

  Pain lanced across Sam’s face and his smile wavered.

  Wendy’s laughter halted mid-peal.

  Ava felt her breath catch at the raw emotion arcing between mother and son. She moved briskly around the dining island. ‘I’ll get those drinks. What have you got, Sam?’

  ‘Champagne in the fridge,’ Vanessa answered for him, busying herself with reaching for champagne flutes from a glass-fronted unit. Her eyes were shining suspiciously but her usual easygoing smile remained in place. ‘Do we wrestle with the bottle ourselves or fail our sex miserably by asking Sam to open it?’

  Ava found several misty cold bottles of Bollinger lying in the bottom of the fridge. ‘My dad taught me how to open champagne. I haven’t exactly had the money to drink it recently but this will be twice in a couple of days.’ She began to pick at the foil covering the wire cage around the cork.

  Sam looked up from studying the Christmas cooking for idiots instructions. ‘Did your dad bring some with him from France?’

  Ava shook her head as she flicked off the wire, grasped the cork and began to turn the bottle against her hip. ‘Ruby Glennister brought “bubbles” round, to celebrate the success of her campaign.’ Bottle and cork began to part company and she let them ease free instead of popping the cork across the room. When she’d poured the sparkling foam into the champagne flutes, she passed Sam a glass. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘To the campaign.’ He touched his glass to hers.

  ‘To the campaign.’ A nice safe topic.

  As Sam clung tenaciously to the task of cooking, Ava and Vanessa tried to keep Wendy entertained and prevent her from rolling up her sleeves and joining Sam in the kitchen. Although she protested loudly that she felt fine, Wendy’s face was without colour. Sam tried gently to get her to sit in an armchair until the meal was ready but she clung obstinately to her perch on a bar stool.

  Ava was impressed at Sam’s kitchen philosophy of everything planned, nothing rushed. He basted the potatoes and, under his direction, she readied the steamer for the baby carrots, fine beans and asparagus – which, very sensibly, he’d bought ready prepared.

  ‘I’ll chop a few button mushrooms and half an onion for the gravy. Can you take over from there?’ Sam reached a long arm around Ava to grab the chopping board.

  ‘As soon as you’ve finished in front of the hob,’ she agreed, brightly, pretending she hadn’t even noticed how close he was to her.

  In between shifting carefully around one another so as not to touch, Ava and Sam chatted and laughed with Wendy and Vanessa, sent Snickers and Mars out of the kitchen with boring regularity, and sipped champagne.

  Finally, even the port gravy was declared done and Sam and Ava carried the dishes over. Snickers and Mars took up station nearby, noses woffling at the delicious smells on the air.

  Wendy raised her champagne glass. She’d only had half a glass to begin with but
there was still some left. ‘To Sam, for being the best son ever, and Vanessa, for being the best sister. And to lovely Ava, for sharing her Christmas with us.’

  A clinking of glasses. Ava raised her champagne flute to Wendy, unable to find any words to express her hopes for the valiant little figure, and Vanessa and Sam made the same silent toast.

  ‘Right!’ beamed Wendy, using a jolly red napkin to wipe the corner of her eye. ‘Let’s eat this fantastic dinner. Then, don’t think you’re going to make me wait until we’ve washed up for my presents, because you’re not.’

  Which made everyone begin their meal with laughter but also with brimming eyes. Then Vanessa began asking about the campaign for Ruby and Ava and the atmosphere lightened.

  After the succulent duck and crispy potatoes had proved such a success that everybody ate twice as much as they needed, they voted to eat dessert later, as it was a cold Christmas Bombe that Sam, knowing his limitations, had bought. Vanessa gave Snickers and Mars their own Christmas dinner topped with scraps of duck and the remains of the port gravy while Ava and Sam cleared the plates and shoved everything out of sight in the sink and the dishwasher.

  Ava discovered that the Jermyn family made a little ceremony of present giving. There was no free-for-all or even everybody having one present to open all at once. Instead, each person gave their presents out one by one so that everybody else could observe and enjoy. Also necessary was more champagne and open access to a huge box of chocolate Christmas trees. Snickers and Mars, who’d scoffed their Christmas dinner, came to gaze hopefully at the Cadbury’s.

  Vanessa gave her gifts first: two shirts for Sam, perfume for Ava, light-up collars for the dogs and turquoise cowboy boots for Wendy.

  Wendy stroked the violently coloured tooled leather in awe. ‘Vanessa, these must have cost you a month’s salary.’

  Vanessa smiled. ‘Quite cheap in Kansas, actually. My Neale has just been there on business. He sent me photos until he found a pair I liked.’