One Family Christmas: The perfect, cosy, heart-warming read to curl up with this winter

by Bella Osborne

‘Daddy, look at the cute dogs!’ exclaimed Jessie from the back seat as Emily opened the door and got in.

  ‘They’re huge,’ said Zach, watching the dogs-versus-boys football match on the village green.

  ‘I love them. I wonder if that’s the sort of dog Santa will bring me?’ she asked, her breath steaming up the glass.

  ‘Jessie, we’ve talked about this,’ said her father. ‘Santa doesn’t bring animals as presents. You can’t wrap a puppy.’

  ‘What else is on your list?’ asked Emily, aware that Zach was already shaking his head.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Jessie. ‘I asked for a puppy, a unicorn, a real ice-cream van and boobs.’

  ‘Boobs?’ whispered Emily to Zach. He nodded.

  ‘Yes, boobs, like yours,’ said Jessie, very matter-of-factly. Her father went back to shaking his head. ‘Amy Renton said that her daddy said that big boobs get you anything you want. But it’s a puppy I want the most. Boobs are second.’

  Zach indicated and pulled away. Jessie sighed dramatically and watched the dogs playing on the green until they were out of sight.

  ‘You okay?’ Zach glanced at Emily.

  She nodded vigorously, clutching the wine bottles to her stomach whilst she checked and rechecked the dates in her mind. They headed up the hill to the next village and past a sign that read Henbourne on the Hill. This was it. This was where Zach’s family lived. She realised she wasn’t ready to face them yet; not while she had this giant question mark hanging over her. But she could hardly ask Zach to turn around. Emily spotted a farm, a few cute cottages and a church with a pretty lychgate, but within moments they were through the sleepy village and out the other side. She was confused: had Zach changed his mind? For a moment she felt relief.

  ‘We’re early, but I know a great little pub where we can get a good meal. It might be the last one we have for a couple of days,’ said Zach, with a grin. Emily suddenly wasn’t hungry any more.

  Lottie ran through the back garden, clutching her coat to her, and came flying back into the manor in a similar style to how she had left – but the sight that greeted her was a pleasant surprise. The kitchen was tomato free. Joe put his head around the kitchen door from the hallway and gave her a timid wave. Why was he still here?

  ‘Thanks, but you really didn’t have to clean up,’ she said, taking her coat off.

  ‘Yeah, I think I did. I’ve bathed the dog and he’s asleep in the cat basket. The cat’s gone off in a huff.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She meant it. It was just such a struggle to look at him and not feel a torrent of emotions.

  ‘I found the Christmas tree in the garage and figured you’d need a hand …’ She followed him into the hall where the large real tree Nana had ordered was standing, majestic, if a little bare. The smell of fresh pine wafted over her – a wave of Christmas. They both stared at it for a moment, until Lottie noticed that Joe was now looking at her instead of the tree. ‘Do you still decorate the tree on Christmas Eve?’

  ‘Yep. Family tradition.’

  ‘I used to love all your funny traditions,’ said Joe, sounding like he was thinking out loud.

  She adjusted her hair clip. ‘Can you help me move it into the drawing room?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, already taking up the position.

  Lottie got the other side and they inelegantly waddled their way down the hall and into the drawing room. ‘Any early arrivals?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘Nope.’ They positioned and repositioned the Christmas tree until Lottie was happy with it. There was a moment where they both eyed each other at the same time and then looked away. This was a whole new level of awkward.

  ‘I should probably make a move.’ Joe pointed at the door. ‘I’m picking up a car. It’s an old Land Rover actually. Nothing special, but I’m collecting it in like …’ He checked his watch. ‘Nowish.’ He seemed startled to see it was almost two o’clock.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’ll take the dog with me. Check if he’s got a microchip. Hopefully I can reunite him with his owners in time for Christmas.’

  ‘That’s a nice thought,’ said Lottie. Joe had always been thoughtful. Apart from— She banished the memory.

  Joe paused in the doorway and turned slowly, making Lottie hold her breath. ‘Perhaps after Christmas we could catch up properly?’ he asked, his eyes barely meeting hers before they flitted away. Her mind buzzed with what he meant by that. ‘You know. Catch up over a coffee,’ he added.

  ‘Let’s get Christmas over first. Then, we’ll see.’ She couldn’t commit to anything more than that right now. She felt like her space had been well and truly invaded. He gave the briefest of nods, picked up the dog and walked through to the kitchen. Lottie followed. ‘Thanks for all your help today.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ He sounded dejected.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Joe.’ She couldn’t hide the melancholy in her tone.

  ‘You too, Lottie.’ He gave a weak smile and ventured out into the blustery winter weather.

  The pub had been lovely, but Emily’s two trips to the toilet had been accompanied by Jessie waiting outside the cubicle, humming ‘Baby Shark’, so she’d not been able to do the pregnancy test. An hour later, they were back in Henbourne on the Hill and turning into a large gated drive. ‘What the …?’ Emily started to pay attention.

  The sound of tyres on gravel, as if announcing their arrival, seemed to add to the grandeur of the setting. This was not what she’d been expecting. Her head was almost spinning as she tried to take it all in. There was a large turning circle with an ornate fountain in the middle, and beyond that a grand house. Emily was thrown. She’d never set foot inside a house like this before; she had only driven by them or seen them on the telly. Her standard-sized family had lived in a small terrace. She wished Zach had warned her. Thinking back, he’d said something about ‘the estate’; but she’d automatically assumed he meant council estate not country.

  ‘Wow,’ said Emily, trying hard to stop her mouth falling open. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Faded grandeur,’ said Zach, switching off the engine. ‘It needs a lot of updating. The new owners will have their work cut out.’ He pointed at the ‘For Sale’ sign being buffeted by the wind.

  ‘Has it been in your family for generations?’ she asked, her eyes scanning the many windows and grand steps up to a huge arched front door.

  ‘No, my grandfather bought it in the seventies. That was the last time it had a full makeover,’ he said, with an affectionate chuckle. ‘Come on.’

  Emily checked her handbag was fully zipped up and tried not to think of the tester kit inside as she got out of the car. Time to make a good first impression.

  Almost as soon as Joe had closed the back door, the sound of someone tugging the bell pull at the front door echoed through the house. Lottie took a deep breath. This was the start of what could be a very long Christmas.

  She skidded into the hallway and wrenched open the heavy old door. Her brother strode in, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek as he passed. ‘Hiya, sis. Have you got the dinner on yet? Those sprouts need to be boiled for at least a week.’

  ‘Ha, ha,’ she said, looking past him for a glimpse of his girlfriend. This was something of a milestone, because she’d not met her yet, and Zach had made her promise in triplicate not to make a fuss. But this was the first girlfriend he’d brought home for Christmas since his wife had died; it felt like a big deal to Lottie. She put on her best smile and turned to greet her. ‘Oh, hello,’ said Lottie, wrong-footed by the sight of the blushing woman in front of her – it was the woman she had sold a pregnancy test to when she had been doing her shift at the village stores.

  Lottie tried to hide her shock by greeting Emily with a kiss on each cheek, but both women were too rigid and kept turning in the same direction. A nervous laugh escaped from Emily.

  ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Emily.’ She offered Lottie the bottles of wine with shaking hands.

  Lottie
cleared her throat and tried to act nonchalant. ‘Lovely to meet you too. Ooh, Saint-Émilion – thank you.’ She knew it sounded like she was reading from a dodgy script, but that was how it felt. She couldn’t stop her eyes darting to Emily’s stomach and then back up to her wide eyes. She looked terrified, poor thing. Lottie gave her a smile. ‘Come in and get yourself warmed up.’

  ‘Auntie Lottie!’ shouted Jessie, pushing past Emily and throwing herself into Lottie’s arms, almost displacing the wine.

  ‘Jessie!’ She put down the bottles, picked the little girl up and swung her around, thankful for the distraction. ‘You are getting taller – look at you.’

  ‘I told Santa I would be here for Christmas so he knows where to deliver my puppy,’ said Jessie, excitedly. Her father spun around and she made a quick amendment. ‘Presents. I meant presents.’ She gave a big cheesy grin.

  ‘You are a smart cookie,’ said Lottie, putting her niece down and avoiding eye contact with Emily.

  ‘Nana Rose!’ called Jessie and all the adults froze.

  ‘I thought she knew,’ whispered Lottie to her brother.

  ‘She does,’ replied Zach.

  Zach crouched down in front of his daughter. ‘Jessie.’ His voice was tender. ‘Do you remember what I said about Nana Rose going to be with the angels?’

  Jessie frowned. ‘I thought she wanted to be made into ash to help the garden?’ Lottie was glad she wasn’t the one having to answer the tricky questions.

  ‘Yes, but your soul, the bit that makes you special, that goes to Heaven to be with the angels,’ explained Zach.

  ‘Or a star,’ said Jessie. The Lion King was one of her favourite films.

  ‘Yes, or a star,’ agreed Zach.

  Jessie appeared to be thinking hard. ‘But can’t she be a ghost and carry on living here?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ said Zach.

  ‘Is that because there’s already a ghost that lives here?’ asked Jessie.

  Emily made a noise somewhere between a croak and a gasp. ‘Ghost?’ she asked.

  ‘You hear it moving things at night,’ said Jessie. ‘Where’s the Duchess?’

  ‘Not sure,’ Lottie replied. ‘She’s a bit out of sorts at the moment, so she could be anywhere. Why don’t you see if you can find her?’

  Jessie didn’t need asking twice and ran off.

  ‘Duchess?’ said Emily, her voice a little shaky. ‘Your mum’s a duchess?’

  Zach and Lottie burst out laughing and took a few moments to get it under control.

  ‘Not in the slightest,’ said Zach.

  ‘It’s the cat’s name,’ said Lottie. She saw Emily’s shoulders drop with relief.

  Lottie eyed her brother. ‘Gingerbread?’ Zach didn’t answer; he raced to the kitchen with Lottie hot on his heels. There was a brief fight over the cake tin until Zach pulled the lid off and stared at the contents with a puzzled expression.

  He poked the deformed figures crouching at the bottom of the tin. ‘What are these? Ginger dead men?’

  ‘Oi! I made them yesterday. They took me hours.’ Lottie grabbed the tin off him and ran to the other side of the table.

  ‘Hello?’ called Emily from the hallway. Zach rushed back to her.

  ‘Sorry, Em. This house is a bit spread out. I’ll give you the grand tour in a mo,’ he said, beckoning her to the kitchen.

  ‘Please treat the place as your own,’ said Lottie, joining them and biting the leg off an already headless gingerbread man. ‘Gingerbread?’ She offered her the tin.

  ‘Last year Nana made a treehouse out of gingerbread. It was incredible,’ said Zach.

  Emily took a gingerbread body part from the tin. ‘I wanted to come last year but my mum had won a hamper and she wanted us all to go to hers.’

  ‘Last year?’ said Lottie, failing to hide her astonishment. She widened her eyes at Zach. She had no idea they’d been together that long. She spoke to her brother regularly and he’d first mentioned Emily a few months ago. He’d definitely been playing this low key for quite some time.

  ‘You must have thought I was his imaginary girlfriend. It’s taken so long for us to meet up, what with so many of your family being ill,’ volunteered Emily, trying to bite into her gingerbread and having to have a second go at it.

  Lottie opened her mouth to query Emily’s statement but Zach was waving frantically from behind Emily’s back. She’d challenge him on that one later. It was reassuring to know that Emily wasn’t just a fling, but the fact Zach had kept her existence quiet for so long troubled Lottie a little.

  ‘I’ve made up all the beds so take your pick,’ said Lottie, wagging a finger at Zach out of Emily’s eyeline as they all walked back to the hall.

  ‘Blue room free?’ he asked, picking up their bags and mouthing ‘Thank you’.

  ‘All yours. Camp bed and sleeping bag for Jessie are on the landing. And I’ve put the dolls in the box room.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Zach, ushering Emily up the stairs.

  ‘Dolls?’ asked Emily.

  ‘Nana collected them,’ explained Lottie.

  ‘They are the creepiest things you’ve ever seen,’ said Zach. He took the stairs two at a time like he’d used to as a boy and it made Lottie smile. Lottie turned to head back to her to-do list in the kitchen as the front door opened and an icy wind blew in her mother.

  ‘My God, this place is grim. I can’t believe the cost of a taxi from Stow.’ Angie wheeled in her case and slammed the door shut behind her. ‘Hello, darling,’ she said, eventually turning her attention to her daughter.

  ‘Hi, Mum. Good journey?’ They air-kissed over the briefest of hugs.

  ‘Bearable. If I’d known Zach was already here I’d have got him to pick us up.’

  ‘Us?’ questioned Lottie, observing her mother, alone, taking off her expensive-looking coat.

  As if answering the question, the old oak door burst open again and in strode a man whose age, Lottie guessed, was far nearer her own than her mother’s. ‘This is Scott,’ said Angie, proudly pulling him to her side.

  ‘Hiya,’ said Scott, flicking his auburn hair out of his eyes. Lottie blinked rapidly. He was good-looking and had a warm smile.

  ‘Hello,’ said Lottie, aware that she was staring at the unexpected guest.

  ‘Do close your mouth, Lottie. You don’t want people to think you’re simple,’ said her mother, handing Lottie her coat. Angie kissed Scott in a way no child would ever want to observe of a parent. Lottie pulled her eyes away and busied herself with folding and refolding the coat.

  Her mother finally stopped snogging Scott and scanned Lottie with a critical eye.

  ‘What?’ asked Lottie. She was wearing her favourite Darth Vader Christmas jumper and flashing Christmas tree earrings. She could sense the disapproval cascading over her in waves. ‘It’s Christmas so flashing earrings are acceptable. And I love this jumper.’

  ‘Nothing, darling. Don’t be defensive. It’s very you, and I can see it’s much-loved.’

  ‘Here,’ said Scott, pulling two large bottles of champagne out of a bag slung over his shoulder. ‘’Tis the season to drink Bolly, Fa la la la laa la la la laaa,’ he trilled.

  Distracted from Lottie’s outfit, Angie giggled like a child. ‘He’s so much fun. Isn’t he fun?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Lottie, reaching to take the bottles and inwardly freaking out. This was one more person to feed at breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next two days – not to mention the fact that she didn’t have a gift for him.

  ‘Sorry, we’ll need those,’ said Angie, intercepting the bottles at lightning speed. ‘I assume I’m in my room?’ Angie was already heading upstairs.

  ‘Actually, I’m afraid that’s been my room for a while now, Mum.’

  Angie stopped and turned, her face fixed; not from Botox, but from trying not to react in front of Scott. ‘Blue room, then?’ Her tone was strained.

  ‘Um, sorry, Zach’s in there.’

  ‘Green room?’ Angi
e was beginning to talk like a ventriloquist’s dummy.

  ‘It’s got single beds. Perhaps you’d be happiest in the Roman room as it’s next to the bathroom.’ Angie shot her a warning look and Lottie frowned. She wasn’t trying to be annoying, she was simply thinking of her mother’s need to get up for a wee in the night. Lottie thought it had been quite considerate of her and the mattress was comfier in there as well.

  ‘Fine. The Roman room it is then,’ said Angie, continuing upstairs without a backwards glance.

  ‘What, no colour scheme?’ Scott asked Lottie, reaching for the luggage.

  ‘Er, no, a previous owner believed that the Romans had a camp near here, so over the years Nana and Granddad collected prints and Roman-looking jugs and it’s all in there.’

  ‘Like Gladiator?’ asked Scott, looking enthralled.

  ‘Not really, more Life of Brian,’ said Lottie, wondering why her mother hadn’t warned her that she was bringing her latest boyfriend with her. No need to panic, she told herself. She could definitely cope with one extra; she’d bought food like she was expecting to be under siege for the festive season, so it would be fine. Scott gave a jolly shrug and headed upstairs, having a good look at the paintings on the wall as he passed. Lottie gave herself a mental pat on the back – she was over the first hurdle.

  Chapter Five

  Joe was checking his emails when someone banged hard and repeatedly on the door of his rented cottage. The dog sat up and he patted his head. So far Joe had discovered that the dog had no microchip and he’d not been reported missing to the local police, nor any vets or rescue centres. The continued banging made him hurry to answer it, being careful to shut the little dog in first. He opened the front door and found himself looking straight out across the wet street – there was nothing in his eyeline to obstruct his view. Looking down, his eyes met a small elderly woman and a tartan wheelie trolley, which she was already thrusting forwards towards his legs. He leaped out of the way with moments to spare.

  ‘Um, can I help you?’ he asked the lady, who was already heading into the cottage.

  She took off her rain bonnet to reveal hair like a dandelion clock. She turned her head and her fluffy white hair bobbed about. ‘You can, Joseph Broomfield,’ she said, handing over the tartan trolley on wheels and giving him a thorough look up and down. ‘Well, you’ve grown up a bit. How was America?’