Lottie pressed her lips together. Here we go again. ‘Actually Zach has taken that one. I thought—’
‘Roman room it is then.’ Nicola gave a tight smile.
‘Ah, sorry. My mum has bagsied that one. She’s brought her new boyfriend.’ Nicola fixed Lottie with a hawk-like stare. ‘Green room is all made up. And I’d assumed Rhys would be in the box room as usual. Well, not quite as usual, I’ve moved the rest of Nana’s doll collection in there.’ Lottie gave a jaunty shoulder shrug.
‘What about Rose’s—’
‘Noooo,’ said Daniel cutting over her. ‘We’ll be fine in the green room, Lottie, thank you.’ She heard them bickering all the way up the stairs and along the corridor, until they finally shut the bedroom door behind them.
Lottie let out a sigh. That was it; everyone was here. Although, technically, Rhys was still in the car; but he was on Manor land so that counted. She could finally relax and start focusing on everyone enjoying Christmas – because ultimately that was the only thing that mattered.
Lottie made a cafetière of coffee, filled the large teapot and added a jug of squash for Jessie. She grabbed a can of Coke for Rhys and laid out a selection of biscuits – some from the cheap box and some from the posh one (like Nana used to do). ‘They’ll never know they’re not all the pricey ones,’ she’d say, and she was right. When everything was ready, she went in search of people. It seemed they had all squirrelled themselves away in their rooms since arriving, and Lottie intended to root them out. She headed upstairs, deciding she’d pop to the loo first. When she reached the toilet she heard someone behind her. Emily gave a weak smile, looked away and headed back to her room. Odd, thought Lottie.
Whilst in the bathroom, she checked there were enough towels and toilet rolls; she knew they’d go through lots over the next couple of days. Her mother, for one, didn’t seem capable of reusing a towel – they went in the laundry after barely getting damp. Lottie went along the hallway tapping on the bedroom doors. ‘It’s the tea fairy! Tea, coffee and biscuits being served in the snug.’
Jessie was out first. ‘Biscuits! Hooray!’ She raced past Lottie and downstairs, closely followed by her father.
‘Biscuits! Hooray!’ he mimicked, giving Lottie a wink as he scooted past her. She chuckled at him. Despite what he’d been through over the last few years, he was still the big kid she remembered.
‘Is it decaf?’ asked her mother, joining her on the landing.
‘Nope. It’s fully leaded, just how Nana liked it.’
Her mother winced. ‘Fine by me,’ said Scott. ‘I like strong coffee. I have two shots when we go to Starbucks,’ he added, looking completely serious. Lottie refrained from the urge to congratulate him. He seemed nice enough, but she would be reserving judgement as her mother’s men tended to start off okay but then would get rapidly bored with her mother’s high-maintenance ways. Before long they were a mere speck on the horizon.
Lottie checked that Daniel, Nicola and Rhys were joining them and then followed the others downstairs to take up the role of hostess. It was strange without Nana. She had always done all of this. She had been a proper matriarch, and an excellent host, so it was more than daunting that that role should fall to Lottie this Christmas. Lottie wasn’t sure she was up to it – she certainly wouldn’t deliver to Nana’s high standards – but she would do her best, and that was all she could do.
Jessie was already eating a biscuit and nursing a glass of squash when she entered the room. ‘I hope you’ve saved me a chocolate one,’ said Lottie.
‘Oreos?’ asked Scott, appearing behind her. She wouldn’t have put him down as an Oreo person. People’s biscuit choices fascinated Lottie. She doubted that you could tell a lot from it, but it interested her all the same. Personally, she was a big fan of the custard cream but loathed Bourbons. They promised so much – they looked like a chocolate biscuit – but they didn’t taste of chocolate, so they let you down. Joe was a Bourbon biscuit.
She tried to banish thoughts of Joe and Bourbon biscuits from her mind. Zach was watching Scott, and Lottie watched them both. At last Zach spoke. ‘Hi, I’m Zach,’ he said, offering a hand. Scott juggled his biscuit and shook hands with Zach. ‘Do I know you?’ asked Zach, scrutinising Scott’s face.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Scott. ‘Do you drink in the Bricklayer’s Arms in West Norwood?’
‘Er, no, can’t say I’ve ever been to that part of London,’ said Zach.
‘Then I’ve probably got a double.’ Scott gave Zach a manly slap on the shoulder, although Lottie thought she saw a glimmer of anxiety in his eyes as he did so. He went to snuggle up to Angie, which was about as far away from Zach as he could get.
‘You okay?’ Lottie asked Zach quietly.
‘I know him from somewhere. I just can’t place him, and it’s bugging me.’
‘It’ll come to you when you least expect it,’ she said, dunking a shortbread finger quickly in her tea. She watched Dayea fussing over Bernard, adjusting the rug over his knees and ferrying cups of tea and assorted biscuits to his side. She was a sweet lady and very attentive, especially given what she got paid. Even though her English was as good as any native speaker, she wasn’t a chatty sort of person. Lottie often wondered how old she was. Her minimal wrinkles and dyed-black hair made it tricky, but she guessed she was in her early sixties. She caught Lottie staring and gave her a sweet smile before sipping her tea.
‘Who’s coming to the carol service in Henbourne this evening?’ asked Lottie. It was one of their many family traditions. There was a set agenda that a Collins family Christmas ran to, and this was a key Christmas Eve event.
‘No thanks; I’ll babysit for Jessie,’ said Rhys quickly, which was the most he’d said since he’d got there apart from mumbling ‘No WiFi’ a few times.
‘Thanks, mate,’ said Zach.
‘Aw, but I’m big now. Why can’t I come?’ Jessie pouted.
‘Because it finishes late, and if you’re not in bed when Santa comes he won’t—’
‘Okay. I get it,’ said Jessie with a huge grin.
‘Is it far away?’ asked Emily, without making eye contact. Lottie wondered if she had done the pregnancy test yet. Something flashed through her stomach – a physical memory – and she tried to ignore the pain in her own past. This was different; Emily had Zach, assuming she got around to telling him.
‘No, the church is about a fifteen-minute walk. It’s probably the only time they have a full house. Loads of people come from both villages: Dumbleford, which is at the bottom of the hill, and Henbourne on the Hill, which is, well, on the hill,’ explained Lottie.
‘Count me in,’ said Emily, and Zach slipped an arm around her waist. The way he was looking at Emily warmed Lottie’s heart. She hadn’t seen him look at anyone that way since Melissa. Lottie shook her head: the thought of Zach’s wife had made more skeletons rattle around her mind. Zach gave her a look and she froze. All this time, she had never revealed Melissa’s secret, and she wasn’t about to now.
‘I’d like to go,’ said Bernard. ‘Not sure my steed is up to the return journey though.’ He patted the arm of his wheelchair. Going down the hill was fine, but getting back up stretched the battery to its limit. He had been known to stop the traffic by zigzagging up the middle as the gradient was a little on the steep side. The puzzled looks on the faces of the queuing tourists was always entertaining.
‘I’ll drive you, Uncle Bernie,’ offered Daniel. Nicola gave him daggers which he merely shrugged at.
‘Thanks, Daniel. I missed it last year. I wasn’t too good, health-wise.’
Lottie waited for him to say that this year would be his last Christmas, but he didn’t. She and Zach exchanged bemused looks. There was still plenty of opportunity for him to mention it, and he surely would.
Lottie was cheered to see her family interacting; so far there had been no arguments, which was probably some sort of record. She sat back with a happy sigh and enjoyed the peace while it lasted.<
br />
Lottie had left everyone to a game of Ludo and was concentrating hard as she iced the Christmas cake. She had made it straight after the funeral and it had looked great when she’d taken it out of the oven, but shortly afterwards it had developed a big dip in the middle. She’d been pouring brandy over it for a few days and had put a big slice of marzipan in the dent and covered it all in icing in the hope that nobody would notice. As she went to the dining room to retrieve the old cake decorations to distract attention from the cake’s failings, she caught Zach creeping out of the drawing room backwards like a cartoon burglar – all he needed was a stripy top and a bag with SWAG emblazoned on it. He took his time to shut the door carefully.
‘What are you up to?’ she asked, loudly. It had the desired effect; he jumped and held his hand to his chest.
‘Bloody hell! Don’t do that.’
‘You’re up to something. Come on, spill.’
‘What? I’m not doing anything.’ Lottie gave him a well-practised look – it was the one she reserved just for her brother and had perfected when they were kids. ‘Okay.’ He held up his hands. ‘You got me. I was trying to find that little car ornament of Nana’s. I was going to ask if I could have it to remember her by, seeing as you and I weren’t left anything in the will.’
Lottie eyed him suspiciously. ‘It’s in her bedroom. If you give me five minutes, I’ll come up with you.’
‘I can go,’ he said.
‘Actually, I’ve not been in her room since …’
Lottie felt foolish, but ever since Nana had died, she couldn’t bring herself to go into her bedroom. It felt like she was intruding, which was silly, but it was the thought of all her things still being there and her not.
‘I understand. Of course we can go together.’ He gave her arm a squeeze. She loved her brother and she knew he loved her too. They had been through a lot and had always been there for each other. Now that Nana had gone, he was the one person she knew she could rely on.
Lottie followed Zach upstairs and they paused outside Nana’s bedroom door. ‘You ready?’ he asked, and Lottie nodded. She took a moment to compose herself; it was just a bedroom, there was nothing to fear, and yet all the times she’d thought about going in she’d found a good reason not to. Zach gave her a reassuring smile and opened the door. It was dark and he flicked on the light switch. They peered inside. This was the biggest bedroom: the walls were papered with tiny pink flowers dotted about on a fresh white background, and there was a large antique sleigh bed in the middle of the far wall, a painted blanket box at its foot. The bed covers were ruffled as if Nana had just got up and was maybe pottering about the kitchen in her dressing gown.
Whilst Lottie viewed the room from the safety of the doorway, Zach strode over to the dressing table. Lottie reckoned Nana was one of the few people still to have one and actually use it. A walnut jewellery box sat on top with a bottle of Samsara next to it – Nana’s favourite perfume. Zach opened a drawer and chuckled. He held up four pots of Nivea face cream.
‘Do you think she was expecting a siege?’
‘More likely they were on two for one,’ said Lottie. Nana loved a bargain.
Zach started opening and closing the drawers either side of the dressing table. Lottie didn’t like the sensation it gave her. She felt like a grave robber. These were Nana’s things – her private things.
She stepped into the room. ‘Stop.’
Zach saw her expression and paused. ‘I know this is tough, but someone needs to go through everything. And when we finally find a buyer we’ll need to get the whole place emptied.’
Lottie felt like crying. This was all horrid. The world, and most notably her family, moved on regardless, and it shocked her. The sad thing was that she knew Zach was right – and after Christmas she’d be left to sort it all out on her own. She should be seizing the opportunity for some help. Zach went back to checking the drawers.
What would Nana say? ‘You’ve got a backbone – so let’s see it.’ Lottie straightened her shoulders. ‘Will you give me a hand with these bed covers?’ She marched over and began taking off the pillowcases. She should have stripped the bed weeks ago.
‘Yeah,’ he said, sounding distracted. ‘Looks like Nana did her Christmas cards early.’ Zach held up a wodge of envelopes. He joined Lottie at the bed and flopped down on it, sorting through the pile. ‘Here you go,’ he said, handing her an envelope with her name on.
Lottie took the envelope and studied the handwriting. Nana’s tiny perfect lettering stared back at her. It was the sort of writing that people often commented on – neat and uniform, but with a distinct style, very like Nana herself.
Zach found his envelope and ripped it open. He didn’t look at the front of the card, which Lottie knew Nana would have carefully chosen. He read the inside and she saw him jolt like he’d driven over a speed bump too fast.
‘You okay?’ she asked.
Zach looked at his sister. ‘You’d better open yours.’
Chapter Seven
Lottie stared at the front of the pretty card for a moment before she opened it. She was surprised to see the inside cover filled with Nana’s writing.
My dear, dear Lottie,
There is no easy way to tell you this, hence I have taken the coward’s approach and decided to write it in this card. I am sorry to tell you that I don’t have long left to live. I have cancer and the doctors have told me that I have about three months. That is very hard for me to write and would be even harder for me to say to your face.
I don’t want to dwell on my health. I can’t stand it when old people constantly go on about what’s wrong with them. If I get like that you have my permission to shoot me.
I have loved having you home for the last few weeks but I don’t want to be a burden to you, so when the time comes I will be going into a hospice – please don’t challenge me on this. I have my pride.
There is also something I want you to do for me – talk to Joe Broomfield. Life isn’t easy and we make the decisions we do with the best of our knowledge and with the best of intentions, but keeping secrets is like a cancer and if you don’t sort it out it will eat away at you.
I intend to make this Christmas a very special one. Here’s to a happy family Christmas and a prosperous New Year for us all.
With love,
Nana
X
P.S. Seize every opportunity that comes within reach. They are often fleeting, so go with your gut.
Lottie felt Zach’s arm across her shoulders and she quickly closed the card. She could no longer see properly thanks to the tears streaming down her cheeks. She hadn’t been aware that Nana had known she was ill until now. Clearly it wasn’t the bolt from the blue they had all believed it to be; Nana had been keeping the biggest secret of all. Although looking at the pile of cards addressed to each of the family, Lottie surmised that Nana had intended to hand them out and tell everyone before Christmas. In the end, she didn’t get the chance.
Lottie pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. Zach’s card was open and she read it on the sly. Most of it was very similar, but what she had asked of Zach was for him to hold Melissa in his heart yet open up his life to love again; both for his sake and Jessie’s. Zach caught her looking.
‘What did yours say?’
‘Same,’ she said, without making eye contact.
‘Wise old bird, wasn’t she?’ he said with a chuckle. ‘What should we do with these?’ he tapped the card on the top of the pile.
‘I guess you hand them out.’ Lottie was already wondering what advice Nana had imparted in each of the other cards and was itching to find out.
‘Who am I? Postman Pat?’
‘There’s a touch of ginger in there,’ said Lottie, playfully tugging his hair. ‘And if Mother visited Yorkshire, she’d most likely have slept with everyone in Greendale.’
‘Ew, you have a sick mind.’ He gave her a shove.
They fell silent. ‘Maybe wait for a
good time?’ Lottie suggested, although she feared that with their family this might be a very small window to spot.
Emily had found herself sitting in the huge room that she would have called a lounge, but the family called a drawing room. She’d not been good at history at school, so she wasn’t sure what a drawing room was for. Whatever they called it, this was a beautiful room: high ceilings, ornate cornicing and a proper chandelier in the middle of the ceiling – not a Downton Abbey-size one but still rather impressive. Perching on the sofa, she’d found a rare spot in the manor with okay signal, so she fired off a few last-minute emails from her phone. She loved her job in corporate recruitment and was close to getting a promotion. She’d worked all hours the past few weeks to land a new client and she was determined to get January off to a good start too.
Dayea joined her and sat on the same sofa. The two women smiled at each other politely. Emily decided to break the silence. ‘Hi, I’m Emily.’
‘I am Dayea. I am the carer for Bernard.’
Dayea was leaning forward as if expecting a similar job title from Emily. ‘I’m Zach’s girlfriend.’
‘Yes, Lottie, she tells me about you.’ Dayea did a lot of smiling and nodding but it didn’t quell the unease her statement had triggered in Emily.
‘Oh, um. That’s … what did she say?’
‘She tells me she is very much wanting to meet you. Zach has said …’ Dayea was looking at the ceiling as if trying to recall something. ‘Zach has said “buggerall”.’ Dayea seemed happy with her recall.
‘He hasn’t said much about his family to me either. Do you know them well?’ Perhaps this was an opportunity to get the inside track from someone outside the family.
‘I know Bernard very well. He is a kind and funny man. His family they just see an old man in a wheelchair. I see a lifetime of stories and a good heart.’
‘That’s lovely. What about everyone else?’
‘I also knew Rose. She was my friend. She was a lovely lady, very smart.’ Dayea tapped her temple. ‘She knows all the things that go on in the family.’ Dayea moved her hands as if shuffling imaginary cards on a table.
One Family Christmas: The perfect, cosy, heart-warming read to curl up with this winter Page 6
