by Annie Dalton
‘There’s a case of Veuve Cliquot in the back of my car, darling.’ Isadora smilingly handed her car keys to Jake. ‘Would you mind bringing it in for me?’
It was really happening! Christmas was happening here in Anna’s home just the way she’d dreamed. She caught her grandfather looking at her. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked him in an undertone. ‘Are you OK, being back here in your and Granny’s house?’
‘I feel extremely OK, thank you!’ She heard delight and warmth in his voice. ‘In fact, I feel wonderful! Do you know the really wonderful thing? It feels as if it’s yours now.’
Immediately guilty, Anna said, ‘But I’ve hardly changed a thing!’
‘I meant, it feels like your home. Before, it felt as if you were just perched like a bird on a ledge, ready to take flight at any moment. Now it feels as if you live here.’
Liam and Jake were good-naturedly allowing Tansy to bully them into wearing the Christmas sweaters, she’d bought for them. ‘I didn’t buy you one, Isadora,’ she said. ‘But perhaps you won’t mind wearing these until after lunch? And then you can put your beautiful silver birds back.’ Tansy ceremoniously handed Isadora a pair of earrings made from Christmas baubles. ‘I didn’t get you a jumper either, Mr Ottaway, but I did get you a Christmas tie.’
Anna’s grandfather unfolded his snowflake-patterned tie with an amused expression. ‘I haven’t had to wear one of these for so many years I’ve almost forgotten how to tie one. Hopefully it will come back to me!’
Eventually everyone was dressed in an appropriate festive garment. Tansy had even supplied Hero with a fake diamante collar. Bonnie collapsed happily across Jake’s feet, apparently resigned to her antlers, and when everyone was settled with a drink, Tansy said gleefully, ‘OK, now we can start exchanging presents!’
‘What time did she get up?’ Liam whispered to Anna.
‘About five,’ she told him.
‘I’m impressed she’s held out that long!’
All the gift-wrapped parcels were fetched out from under the Christmas tree, and exchanged and unwrapped to exclamations of pleasure and surprise.
Anna’s grandfather’s present to Anna was a beautiful watercolour of her White Shepherd. For a moment she was lost for words. ‘It’s stunning,’ she told him at last. ‘You’ve caught Bonnie perfectly.’
Jake came over to see. ‘That is a very fine picture of my favourite dog.’
‘I’m glad you like it,’ George Ottaway said with a smile.
Next it was Jake’s turn to open his gift from Anna’s grandfather. When he eventually uncovered the framed artwork inside, a slow smile spread over his face. ‘You would make an excellent poker player Mr Ottaway because I did not see this coming at all!’
Anna’s grandfather had made three charcoal sketches of Bonnie in her most characteristic poses and had them framed as a single work. ‘Anna’s always telling me she’s your dog as much as hers,’ he explained.
‘These are wonderful,’ Isadora said. ‘I am deeply jealous and so is Hero.’
‘I’ll paint Hero for you if you like,’ Anna’s grandfather offered. ‘I’d enjoy painting her. She has unusually compelling eyes.’
‘I’ll say,’ Tansy whispered to Anna.
‘She does, doesn’t she?’ Isadora said eagerly. ‘Oh, I would love you to paint her, George. May I call you George?’
‘The gallery where I work is going to have an open exhibition next year,’ Tansy said to Anna. ‘Your granddad should enter.’
‘I’m always telling him he should get his work into an exhibition, but he always fobs me off,’ Anna said. ‘You talk to him, Tansy. Maybe you’d have more luck.’
After presents in the sitting room, they moved down to the kitchen for Christmas lunch, Jake unobtrusively assisting Anna’s grandfather down the stairs. Unobtrusive was Jake’s style, Anna had noticed, freshening Isadora’s drink, making sure her grandfather was comfortable, chatting easily with Liam about his work, helping everything run smoothly. Now and then he’d catch her eye and give her his quick warm smile. There was no sense that he was simply carrying out a polite social duty. He seemed genuinely at home with everyone. That was Jake’s gift, she thought, to make himself at home wherever he hung his hat.
Her Christmas present to him had been a soft woollen scarf in subtle gradations of wintry duck egg, caramel and grey. Anna had also given him a book, Inside of a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell and Know by Alexandra Horowitz. She had wanted to give him something Bonnie-related, since Bonnie was how they’d met. She didn’t know what Jake had given her for Christmas. He’d slipped the flat gift-wrapped package into her hand when no one was looking and told her not to open it until she was alone.
Jake’s present to Isadora, a pewter replica of a pilgrim badge depicting a hound and a hare, had sent her into ecstasies. She immediately pinned it to her lapel. ‘Where did you find such a wonderful thing?’
‘A little curios shop,’ he’d said smiling. ‘Anna told me you’re a medieval scholar and I thought it had a kind of medieval look. I’m glad you like it.’
Tansy had planned for either Liam or Jake to carve the turkey, but they swiftly delegated this tricky task to Anna’s grandfather, pleading clumsiness and inexperience. Anna doubted that he was taken in by their ruse, but he acquitted himself with honour, carving the monstrous bird into perfectly judged slices that fell before his knife like a deck of cards.
‘That was downright poetic how you carved that turkey breast,’ Liam said in awe.
‘When I carve, it looks like wild dogs have been at it,’ Jake said.
‘The trick is to slice as close to the breast bone as you can get,’ George Ottaway explained. ‘Of course, it helps to have a good knife!’
‘I’m in love with your granddad,’ Tansy whispered to Anna as they quickly laid the table with cutlery and Christmas crackers. ‘Would you consider sharing him? My Trinidad grandpa is dead and Frankie’s dad – well,’ she gave Anna a mischievous grin. ‘Better not get me started on him!’
They began to carry all the serving dishes to the table, the bowls of stuffing, the Brussels sprouts cooked to Tansy’s mum’s special recipe with chestnuts and red wine, the ruby-coloured cranberry sauce, the roast potatoes, parboiled and rolled in semolina before being roasted in olive oil, the acorn squash stuffed with jewelled rice (another of Tansy’s concoctions), the tiny sausages wrapped in streaky bacon, a huge jug of gravy.
‘This looks positively Dickensian!’ Isadora exclaimed. ‘You girls must have been up since dawn!’
‘One of us was,’ Anna told her with a grin.
When they were all seated, George Ottaway raised his glass. ‘I want to propose a toast,’ he said, a little shyly. ‘To friends and loved ones, both here and elsewhere. May they know as much happiness as I have felt in this house today! Happy Christmas, everyone!’
Tansy, who had insisted on sitting next to Anna’s granddad, gave him a little clap. ‘That was so beautiful,’ she told him. ‘It’s so wonderful to meet you finally. You really must think about putting your work in our exhibition. Would it be too cheeky to ask if I could come over with Anna some time and see some of your paintings?’
Anna felt slightly as if she was dreaming. It was Christmas and for the first time since her teens she had all her favourite people under one roof. They ate. They pulled crackers. Anna refused to wear her paper crown but Isadora wore hers with pride, even reading out the terrible joke. ‘I suspect that sounds better in the original Polish,’ she said laughing.
‘Are you accusing us of buying knock-off crackers!’ Tansy said, pretending outrage.
Tansy got slightly drunk, though that may have been partly through lack of sleep. Now and then a hopeful doggie nose would appear from under the table where Bonnie and Hero waited for the scraps they were convinced would eventually come their way.
‘Well, darlings,’ Isadora said, when they’d all had their after dinner coffee. ‘I am sorry to rudely eat and run, but I promised a friend I’d go t
o this choral thing at Christchurch.’
‘You can’t even stay for some of your cake?’ Tansy said.
‘I’d like nothing better than to stay here with you all.’ Isadora seemed genuinely regretful. ‘But I feel I should keep my promise to Marjorie.’ She carefully removed her bauble earrings, placing them in her bag along with her medieval pilgrim badge. Tansy found her a Christmassy carrier bag for all her other gifts. ‘You and I will meet again, George,’ Isadora told Anna’s grandfather, stooping down to kiss his cheek. ‘And we will discuss you painting Hero.’
It was only when she and Tansy were showing Isadora out that Anna realized it would soon be dark. ‘I should walk Bonnie,’ she said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Tansy said. ‘I could do with some fresh air to wake me up! Would your granddad like to come, do you think?’
Fortunately Jake had foreseen this eventuality and stowed her grandfather’s wheelchair in the boot of his car. ‘We won’t be long,’ Anna told him.
‘Hold up!’ He bent to remove Bonnie’s antlers. ‘I don’t think we want the other dogs knowing about these, honey.’
Liam and Jake said they’d stay home to man the dishwasher. ‘And drink strong spirits and talk about football,’ Liam said with a grin.
Anna grabbed her old olive-green Barbour coat, Tansy threw on her fluffy black-and-white-striped faux-fur jacket, and they set off to Port Meadow with Anna’s grandfather in his wheelchair. There had been a couple of hard frosts so they didn’t have to worry about the wheels getting bogged down in the mud.
They arrived to find several of the Port Meadow regulars there, including the loud-voiced woman with her Border collies, and Tansy gave Anna’s grandfather a running commentary on each dog walker as they came within his sight line. They got a friendly wave from Blossom’s owner, who was with a couple who looked as if they might be his mum and dad. Tansy quickly filled in Anna’s grandfather about Blossom’s tragic history. For some reason, Anna had just assumed that Blossom had been taken to a rescue shelter after she’d been picked up wandering beside the motorway. She’d imagined that Blossom’s new owner had adopted her from a shelter, the same as Anna had adopted Bonnie. She hadn’t realized that he had spotted the heavily pregnant Staffie wandering by the side of the motorway and immediately pulled over. ‘Can you believe Blossom was already in labour? Can you imagine someone abandoning her in that state!’ Tansy sounded indignant. ‘She had her first puppy in his car. He took her and her tiny puppy back to his home where she gave birth to another seven, but they were in such bad shape, two of them died almost immediately. He was able to save the remaining six. He said he never meant to get a dog, but by the time the puppies were old enough to go to new homes, he and Blossom had totally bonded. And you can see from how she looks at him how much she adores him!’ Tansy finished up, slightly breathless.
Anna’s grandfather was looking faintly astonished.
‘People talk to Tansy,’ Anna explained.
‘So I see,’ he said with a laugh. ‘And it sounds as if every dog comes with a story.’
‘Rescue dogs do, that’s for sure,’ Tansy agreed.
Anna’s grandfather was looking around him with obvious pleasure. ‘I can’t remember the last time I went to Port Meadow,’ he said, innocently causing her a stab of guilt. ‘I’d forgotten the beautiful horses. What a treat!’
The cloudy sky above the meadow was taking on a brooding appearance so that Anna could almost see the darkness of the coming night encroaching on the short midwinter’s day.
‘There’s a suspicious amount of matching knitwear on show this afternoon,’ Tansy commented. ‘We know what they all got for Christmas!’
‘I don’t think we’re in a position to joke about other people’s knitwear,’ Anna told her.
Tansy’s eyes sparkled. ‘You don’t fool me, Anna Hopkins! You won’t want to take your jumper off tonight! You’ll be wearing it in bed.’
‘In my nightmares maybe,’ Anna said with a grin. She had spotted a slow-moving flat-capped figure with an equally slow-moving dog making their way through the gathering gloom. She was always touched by the man’s tenderness to his old dog. She was about to point them out to her grandfather. Then she saw that this particular old dog was not a spaniel but some kind of cross-breed, and its owner was a man she’d never seen before.
When Anna thought Bonnie had had enough of a run around, she called her back and they set off towards home. ‘Is it wrong that I’m already thinking about Isadora’s posh Christmas cake?’ Tansy said. ‘Why is it that eating too much always makes you want to eat even more? It’s like some kind of Zen koˉan or something!’
Back in the warmth and comfort of Anna’s sitting room, George Ottaway said apologetically, ‘I might have to close my eyes, now – just for a minute.’
While Anna’s grandfather dozed, Tansy went to make more coffee and Anna cut slabs of Christmas cake for Liam and Tansy, the only people who felt able to eat another morsel.
It was properly dark outside now. Anna had kept the sitting room lights low, partly so as not to disturb her grandfather but also to enjoy the sight of the Christmas tree softly twinkling. She was sitting on the floor with Bonnie, dreamily watching the tree as she listened to Tansy, Jake and Liam discuss which movie they could watch, one which George Ottaway might also enjoy. All at once Anna’s phone beeped inside her bag. It would be Kirsty, she thought, sending another photo of Charlie. She took out her phone and felt her smile fade.
Happy Christmas & New Year. All the family send their love. Tim. PS, Please think about what I said.
Anna was instantly back in the big family kitchen, smelling the sharp tang of lemon being stirred into toothachingly sweet royal icing. She could see her and Tim’s mothers’ palette knives dipping in and out of the jug of hot water, smoothing and rounding the icing as they worked or ruffling it into snowy waves depending on the design of the cake. Somehow it had become a tradition, the two families’ happy, slightly boozy get-together before Christmas to decorate the cakes they later gave to friends and relations. When they were old enough Tim and Anna were allowed to ice their own. She remembered the deep sense of satisfaction she felt the first time she was allowed to place the tiny plastic fir tree, just so, on her ruffled icing snow. She’d felt happy and useful standing on her chair at the counter beside Tim, both of them carefully decorating their cakes, dimly aware of their mothers chatting, Christmas music playing. What had their fathers been doing? Anna couldn’t remember.
All the family send their love.
Did Jane Freemantle still make Christmas cakes every year? Did she think about Anna, the only member of the Hopkins family still alive, as she smoothed and ruffled and dipped her knife into the hot water? Stop it, she scolded herself. You’re alive, Anna Hopkins. You’re alive – and today you celebrated Christmas with the people you like best in the world.
‘Are you OK?’ Jake came to sit beside her. Bonnie immediately shifted over to lean her head on his knee. Anna wordlessly showed him her text. Across the sitting room, Tansy was expressing astonishment that Liam had never seen It’s a Wonderful Life.
‘There was – a period in my life when Tim’s mum and dad were my preferred parents. I thought his mum was way cooler than my mum, and his dad was, like, the perfect dad, you know? The dad I was supposed to have had? God, I was a horrible little kid!’
‘I doubt that.’ Jake’s hand found Anna’s and held on to it for a moment. ‘Don’t be hard on yourself. You can get ambushed by all kinds of memories this time of year.’ Dizzy from his touch, brief as it was, Anna wondered what memories might be ambushing Jake. Memories of his parents, his time in Afghanistan?
A few minutes later, George Ottaway woke up and Tansy shamelessly lobbied for his support to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. Anna smiled to herself as they settled down to watch. It was always going to be It’s a Wonderful Life, she thought. The discussion had been pure formality. The classic Christmas movie had been a non-negotiable part of Tans
y’s Yuletide agenda, along with the cheesy jumpers, dog antlers and Brussels sprouts with chestnuts.
Once, Tansy briefly lifted her head from Liam’s shoulder to give Anna a beatific smile. Bonnie was in her favourite place, lying across both Anna’s and Jake’s feet. Jake was sitting beside Anna, his hand resting close to hers; wonderfully, disturbingly close.
When George Bailey found the message from Clarence the angel in the film, telling him that no man was a failure who had friends, Anna’s grandfather loudly blew his nose. ‘Damn it, this film always makes me cry!’ he said fiercely.
After the credits had rolled, Tansy packaged up some Christmas cake for Anna’s grandfather. Jake had offered to drive him back to Bramley Lodge. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ he told Anna, as they said their goodbyes outside the house. ‘We can take Bonnie for a long walk somewhere. Maybe have lunch?’ Jake gently moved aside a strand of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail and Anna felt every cell in her body come alive. ‘Don’t forget to open my present, OK?’ he told her.
Anna left Tansy and Liam watching Pirates of the Caribbean, and went downstairs to feed Bonnie and wash up the tea things. It was an old habit, deferring pleasure. She was saving Jake’s present until every last cup had been washed, dried and put away; every last leftover covered in plastic and stowed in the fridge. What could Jake have bought her, she wondered, that he wanted to keep just between them? Not knowing was exciting but also unnerving. Would Jake’s Christmas gift finally reveal how he thought of her, what she meant to him?
Her kitchen phone began to ring. Preoccupied with her own thoughts, she glanced at the screen without much interest and saw a number with an international code. It would be a wrong number, she thought. All over the world people in various stages of inebriation were phoning friends and families. She picked up the handset. ‘Hello?’
‘Is that Anna Hopkins?’ The man on the other end sounded stressed. ‘This is Gabriel Salzman.’
