Chapter Eighteen
Lottie managed to shoo everyone out of the kitchen except for Joe, who was still soaking his burned hand. She busied herself with getting dessert ready, avoiding Joe’s gaze, which she knew was on her.
‘I was worried about coming back,’ said Joe.
Lottie concentrated on turning out the hot, steaming Christmas pudding; she didn’t want to get burned too. ‘That’s to be expected.’ After nine sodding years, she added in her head.
‘But stepping back into the manor house it’s like I’ve never been away.’ When Lottie paused to look, Joe was wearing a soppy smile.
She gave the upturned bowl a firm tap as she’d seen Nana do, and lifted it up. The plate was bare apart from a dribble of juice, and the pudding was still firmly in the bowl. ‘That’s nice, Joe. I’m glad.’ She plonked the bowl back down with a thud, partly for the pudding and partly for Joe, but he didn’t react.
‘Nothing has changed,’ he was looking idly around the kitchen, ‘apart from your hair colour.’
Lottie peeked under the bowl. No sign of the pudding. She slammed it down and noted with satisfaction that this time Joe jumped. ‘Not a single thing,’ she said. ‘Everything is exactly the same, just as you left it.’ Apart from me, thought Lottie, I’ve changed. Before you left, I knew what I wanted in life but then I lost my drive. I’ve walked blindly into a dull career and lurched through a series of unsuitable relationships. She gave the bowl another hearty whack.
‘You okay?’ asked Joe.
‘Me? I’m fine.’ Lottie glared at the disobedient pudding bowl.
‘Maybe this was what I needed all along?’ Joe was watching her but sounded somewhere far away.
She rubbed her forehead, ignored the fact she’d smeared pudding juice across her face, and focused on the Christmas pudding. She held the bowl tightly through the charred oven gloves and lifted. Still no pudding. ‘Argh!’ She slammed the bowl down and the serving plate broke in two with a loud crack. ‘Bugger it!’ She lifted the bowl to reveal the bottom half of the pudding straddling the two halves of the plate. She drew in a slow breath. Why was everything so hard?
‘Pudding smells good,’ said Joe, sniffing the air like a Bisto kid. He seemed unaware of the undercurrent. ‘Did you make it?’
She couldn’t take the credit. ‘Nana did. I sort of helped. She always made them weeks in advance.’ All I had to do was heat it and get it out of the sodding bowl and I can’t even do that right, she thought. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away. She wasn’t going to let Joe see her cry, especially not over a pudding.
She moved the half-pudding to another plate and checked for any shards of china – the last thing they needed was another injury. She took a knife from the drawer, prised out the rest of the pudding and plonked it on top. It looked like a mole hill dug by a very amateur mole. Oh well, it would have to do. Hopefully no one would notice once she’d poured the brandy on it.
Lottie warmed the brandy, poured it over the lumpy-looking pudding and quickly put a lit match against the surface. The match burned but the pudding didn’t. She moved the match over the surface, but it still didn’t catch light before the match burned out. She sighed, went to rummage in a drawer and found the candle lighter. She held it up, pulled the trigger, and to her surprise a flame appeared. ‘Hurrah!’ she said, aware she looked like a crazed scientist.
She stood by with the candle lighter, repeated the brandy heating, poured it over the pudding and immediately put the flame to it. Nothing. She frantically waved the candle lighter over the whole pudding. Nothing. The pudding wouldn’t light.
‘The one thing that’s meant to be on fire.’
Joe chuckled. ‘You’re not getting cross with a pudding. Are you?’
Lottie pulled back her shoulders. She was cross about a lot of things. ‘How’s the hand?’ she asked.
He took it from the iced water and inspected it. ‘Okay, I think.’
She offered him a clean towel to dry it on. ‘I’m giving up on lighting the pudding.’
‘Maybe we’ve seen enough things overheat today.’ His tone was soothing and they exchanged weak smiles.
Zach slunk in from the garden and shut the door. ‘You okay mate?’ He nodded at Joe’s hand.
‘I’ll live,’ said Joe, and he went to join the others in the dining room.
‘Did Dave do his business?’ asked Lottie.
‘Nope. He’s peed on everything out there though. I swear he’s holding on to it on purpose.’ He watched his sister, who was using two serving spoons to try to squish the pudding into more of a dome shape. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Zach, a twinkle in his eye. He pulled a bright green plastic ring from his pocket and held it under her nose.
Lottie looked at the tacky toy ring and then at her brother. ‘You’re never going to propose with that. Are you?’ She hoped her screwed-up expression conveyed her thoughts.
‘Listen. It’s genius. We hide this in the pudding. Because why would I put a diamond ring that cost a grand in—’
‘How much?’ said Lottie, pulling her head back in surprise.
Zach waved the question away and continued. ‘She finds this one in the pudding. I go down on one knee. Everyone swoons. She says yes. Then I can tell her she can have the real one later.’
‘You think she’ll say yes, to that?’ She pointed at the plastic ring.
‘Definitely,’ said Zach.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Trust me. It’s delightful and Christmassy.’
‘Not cheap and tacky?’ Lottie gave the ring a sideways look.
‘No.’ Zach looked hurt. ‘It’s better than waiting for Dave to poo out the real one. This way she doesn’t even need to know it’s been through a dog’s digestive system.’
Lottie could see how that would be appealing. ‘What if Emily chokes on it?’
‘You’re being negative. If we put the pudding on top, she won’t actually scoop it up and eat it.’
Lottie shrugged. ‘On your head be it.’ She picked up the top bowl, put the ring in the next one and replaced the top one so it couldn’t be seen.
She carried through the Christmas pudding and Zach brought in the tray with everything else, including ice cream for Jessie.
‘You not lighting it?’ asked Rhys, disappointedly eyeing the puddingy mass.
‘I think we’ve all seen enough flames for one day.’
‘Well we’ve seen enough people getting burned, for sure,’ quipped Scott, but nobody laughed.
Jessie looked sheepish. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry. At least you’re safe,’ said Lottie, putting down the pudding and kissing the top of Jessie’s head. ‘There’s ice cream for you, Jessie.’ She knew that would hold her attention so she’d not notice the green ring sitting in the next bowl. Lottie served hers and moved on.
‘Pudding?’ Lottie asked Emily, trying to sound nonchalant. She could see Zach watching out of the corner of his eye.
‘Erm …’ Emily was studying the lumpy-looking mass.
If she didn’t have any, that would scupper Zach’s plans. ‘Oh don’t worry about how it looks. Nana made it so it’ll taste great.’
‘I want some,’ said Angie; Lottie noted Zach’s concern.
‘Not your turn,’ scolded Lottie. ‘Emily is a guest. Emily, you’ll have a little won’t you?’ Lottie scooped up some pudding, placed it neatly on top of the green plastic ring and passed it to her.
‘Okay, just a little then.’ Emily rubbed her tummy and Lottie had to concentrate not to stare. Was that because she was full of dinner or growing a baby?
Emily took the bowl and Zach relaxed back into his seat. Lottie really hoped this went to plan. Another ripple of excitement went through her that her big brother was doing this. Such a big life milestone, and she was here to witness it. It would be the injection of happiness this Christmas needed. She served everyone else whilst keeping a check on Emily, who poured over some cream but waited to start un
til everyone else had theirs. Lovely manners, noted Lottie.
When everyone was served, Lottie tucked into her Christmas pudding. The taste of brandy was strong. Zach was eating his, but he was watching Emily with every mouthful. People were quiet apart from the odd mumble of appreciation. Nobody made a Christmas pudding like Nana. The sweetness of the fruit and the moistness of the pudding with a hint of bitterness made it a classic combination. This was Nana’s last pudding, and Lottie knew she’d never written the recipe down. She’d have to have a think and see if she could remember the ingredients. It was sad to think it could be lost forever.
Lottie took a surreptitious glance at Emily’s bowl. She would reach the ring soon.
Jessie had finished her ice cream and was watching her father. ‘Daddy,’ she asked sadly, ‘why don’t you want Emily to be your girlfriend any more?’
Chapter Nineteen
Zach stiffened like he’d been whacked on the head with a newspaper. Emily had stopped with her spoon halfway to her mouth. A tiny speck of green plastic was visible in her bowl. Zach giggled nervously. ‘Don’t be silly. Of course I want Emily to be my girlfriend.’
Jessie shook her head. ‘No, I heard Joe telling Auntie Lottie that you said you didn’t. And that makes me sad because I really like her.’
Joe went pale. ‘Ah, well …’ began Zach.
Emily was still holding her spoon aloft. She looked questioningly at her boyfriend, who was visibly squirming. ‘Zach. Did you say that?’ asked Emily, her voice almost a whisper.
‘Technically,’ everyone was watching him closely, ‘technically, yes. But—’ Zach didn’t get to finish his sentence. Emily had dropped her spoon and rushed from the room. Zach slumped back into his chair. ‘That didn’t exactly go to plan.’
‘What’s going on?’ asked Angie, eyes flitting between her children.
‘Nothing,’ chorused Lottie and Zach together.
‘Jessie, you shouldn’t listen to grown-up conversations; and you certainly shouldn’t repeat them,’ said Zach.
‘Sorry,’ said Jessie with a shrug. ‘Can I have more ice cream, please?’
‘Can you serve her, Mum?’ asked Lottie. ‘I’m going after Emily.’ Lottie handed the ice cream scoop to her mother, who eyed it like it were a lit firework.
Lottie left the room and immediately encountered a dancing Dave. She put her head back round the door. ‘Dave wants to go out again.’
‘Bloody Dogzilla,’ said Zach, screwing up his serviette.
Lottie heard the front door slam. She grabbed her own coat and Emily’s and ventured into the cold after her. She could see Emily walking away and jogged to catch her up, struggling to put her coat on as she went. She shivered as she did it up. The bite of the wind had quickly chilled her.
‘Emily, wait!’ called Lottie.
Emily stopped, and as Lottie reached her she could see she was crying. Lottie didn’t think; she just wrapped her in a hug. Emily’s body gave way to sobs.
When Emily pulled away Lottie gave her her coat. ‘Thank you. You’re so thoughtful.’
‘Unlike my brother.’ They exchanged looks. ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘Not wanting me to be his girlfriend is pretty clear.’ Emily pulled a tissue from her coat pocket and wiped her eyes.
There was no way for Lottie to explain without giving the game away about his planned proposal, and he’d go mental if she did that. ‘Things get lost in translation when they’re overheard. Please trust me – I know he definitely still wants to be with you.’ Emily didn’t look convinced. ‘Assuming you still want that. Now you’ve met the family, nobody would blame you for wanting to run for the hills.’
At last there was a snort of a laugh from Emily. ‘It’s like being in a drama series. I keep wondering what the next revelation will be.’
‘Rhys is a champion Morris dancer,’ said Lottie, her face deadpan. She could see Emily wasn’t sure. ‘Nah, I’m kidding. Come on, let’s have a walk. We’ll see if the others can stop arguing long enough to add the bowls to the dishwasher.’
Lottie pulled her coat tighter and linked an arm through Emily’s. ‘Welcome to the madness of the Collins family. You’ll get used to us eventually.’
They strolled down the hill and Lottie couldn’t help but take a peek through windows at other people enjoying their Christmases. She wondered if they were wrestling with issues like her family, or whether they were passing round the chocolates and watching telly.
‘The meal was lovely,’ said Emily.
‘Thanks for your help with it. Your mum was a life saver.’
‘I think I need to be with my mum,’ said Emily, as if thinking out loud.
‘I know it must feel like things are falling apart, but if you can just hold out for another day everything will slot into place. I promise.’
Emily nodded. ‘I hope you’re right.’
They reached Dumbleford Green, where people were coming in and out of the pub like a shift change.
‘Merry Christmas,’ called Shirley, her party hat lopsided as she clutched her tartan trolley and zigzagged her way across the green.
‘Merry Christmas,’ called back Lottie. ‘Dumbleford’s oldest resident,’ she explained to Emily. ‘I think she arrived with the pub foundations.’
‘It’s nice that you all know each other.’
‘It is.’ The thought of leaving tugged at her heart.
A large dog bounded over and almost took Emily out. ‘Whoa!’ said Emily, startled.
‘Tiny, calm down,’ said Lottie, as the English Mastiff bounced up and down around them. ‘It’s okay, he’s harmless. He’s no idea he’s the size of a small horse.’ The dog charged off and began circling the Christmas tree on the green. A young boy chased after him.
‘Maybe Dave isn’t so bad after all,’ said Emily.
Lottie was pleased that she’d managed to reduce Emily’s worries a little, but Zach really needed to pull his finger out before some serious damage was done to his relationship.
Back at the manor Emily decided to go for a lie down. Lottie left her to it. She’d had a spark of an idea, and if the timing was right, she was going to sneak off again.
‘Dad. Can I have a word?’ asked Rhys, as they met at the bottom of the stairs.
Daniel’s troubled expression left him. ‘Of course, son. What is it?’
Rhys held up his metal detector. ‘Fancy seeing if there’s buried treasure in the garden?’
‘Or an escape tunnel. I could do with one of those right now.’
Rhys patted him on the back. ‘I’ll bring a shovel,’ he said, a cheeky sparkle in his eye.
Having checked everyone was settled and the dishwasher was gurgling away, Lottie had put her coat back on. Shhh,’ she said, holding the door for Daniel and Rhys as they all left the house together. She slung a cloth bag over her shoulder and checked the coast was clear.
‘Are you up to something?’ asked Rhys.
‘Kind of. But it’s a nice something.’ She patted the bag. ‘Not a word.’
Lottie walked speedily to the cars parked on the drive and Rhys and his father set about using the metal detector nearby. The light was fading so Lottie got straight to work.
‘So, what’s up?’ Lottie heard Daniel ask his son. Lottie didn’t like eavesdropping but they knew she was there, so it wasn’t entirely sneaky listening. She concentrated hard on her task but it was impossible to tune out Uncle Daniel’s voice. ‘I’m guessing it’s the mess I’ve made of everything.’
‘I love you and Mum. I don’t want you not seeing Rebecca because you think it’ll upset me, because it won’t.’
‘Thanks, Rhys. That’s incredibly mature of you. The truth is, Rebecca was a huge shock. I only found out she existed a couple of months ago – and even then I thought it was a scam. Or a joke.’
‘So you’ve not been keeping her a secret for twenty years then?’
‘Goodness, no. I can barely keep quiet about what we’ve bought people for Chri
stmas, let alone something like this. I ignored the Facebook messages at first and then I realised there was a distinct possibility she was telling the truth. But I couldn’t tell you or your mum about Rebecca without owning up to …’ Daniel tailed off.
‘Having an affair,’ prompted Rhys.
‘It was never really an affair. We flirted at work and then we landed this big client, went out and got drunk and ended up in some dodgy hotel for the night. We both knew it was a mistake. And then Elaine phoned to say she couldn’t work for me any more. And she quit and I never saw her again. I swear.’
‘It’s okay. I believe you, Dad.’
‘I’ve barely thought about her until Rebecca got in touch. And it all seemed to go a bit crazy.’ Lottie popped her head up to see Daniel rubbing his hands over his shorn hair.
‘It certainly went crazy today. Mum’s really upset.’
‘I know and I’m so sorry, Rhys. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. It’s hard to explain but—’
Rhys waved his words away and slung the detector headphones around his neck. ‘What I wanted to say was: what do you always say to me?’
Daniel sounded puzzled. ‘Call your mother? Eat something other than beans on toast? Start revising early?’
Rhys chuckled. ‘You do say all of those things, but no. You tell me to do what makes me happy.’
Daniel rubbed his chin, floored by the simplicity of his son’s logic. ‘It’s not that simple, I’m afraid.’
‘I think it is. If you want Rebecca to be part of your life, then you need to commit to it. Not keep her at arm’s length.’
‘But your mum …’
‘When she’s calmed down she’ll be cool,’ said Rhys.
Daniel’s gaze rested on the house. ‘Your Nana would have had something to say about all this. She would probably have given me a thick ear too. And I’d have deserved it. I’ve been an idiot.’ He looked back at Rhys and put his arm around his shoulders. ‘I’m so proud of you, Rhys. You’ve got a wise head on those shoulders and an excellent future ahead of you. Don’t bugger it up.’
Rhys shuffled his feet on the gravel, looking embarrassed. ‘Yeah, about that …’
One Family Christmas: The perfect, cosy, heart-warming read to curl up with this winter Page 17
