It Must Have Been the Mistletoe

by Judy Astley

  ‘So he doesn’t live down here full-time?’

  ‘Hell, no. Can you imagine that? He’d wither on the vine. Business-wise, now the décor is all done, he’s very much the sleeping partner.’

  Well yes, she’d gathered that. ‘So – er, where is it we’re going?’ she asked as the lanes grew more narrow and low-lying twigs clattered against the Land Rover’s roof. The ground was getting rougher too and the ladder was clanging about in the back.

  ‘Nearly there. It’s the edge of an old estate. Lots of lovely mixed woodland with a fair selection of mistletoe. I’ve already checked out the best bits but I needed back-up. Only an idiot would go shinning up trees and ladders in the dark with no one else there. And yes, I am an idiot to do this at all, but even I have a bit of a grip on self-preservation.’

  ‘I could have bought mistletoe before I left home but there was such a lot to remember.’

  ‘You’d only get a measly little twig for a tenner, even on the markets, which wouldn’t rate a half-decent snog. We can do better than that. A lot better.’

  As they turned off the road and passed between a pair of old stone gateposts – not the main estate entrance, Thea assumed – Sean turned the headlights off and slowed right down, passing a big lily-covered lake on the right and a looming shrubbery on the left.

  ‘This is illegal, isn’t it?’ Thea whispered. ‘You said it wasn’t.’

  She caught him glancing at her, his eyes gleaming in the dark. ‘I didn’t exactly say that, only something close enough to it. But really, it’s rather like poaching rabbits. Not exactly legal if you don’t ask permission first, but in the long run you’re doing the landowner a favour. Don’t worry, you won’t spend Christmas in the nick. OK – here we are.’

  Sean turned the car down a narrow track through a gateway, circled the car round in a small clearing and switched off the engine.

  ‘Is that for a quick getaway?’ Thea asked, wondering why he’d turned it round.

  He looked at her, smiling. She felt she was being teased but didn’t mind. ‘It is. Because unless we’re quick, old Lord Thingummy and his faithful band of retainers will be after us with a selection of ancient axes and an entrenching tool.’

  ‘Like Uncle Matthew in The Pursuit of Love,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘Exactly like him. Except we’re not The Hun, as he called them and it’s not the war. But the gist will be the same.’

  Thea felt nervous as she dropped down from the car seat onto muddy ground.

  ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘no entrenching tools. I only turned the car round so that I can shine the lights on the right bit of the chosen tree.’ He pointed. ‘That fine oak there. Look up at the top – it’s covered in mistletoe. It’ll thank us for this when it can breathe more easily.’

  Thea watched as he pulled on a pair of gloves and opened the back doors to unload the ladder. ‘What can I do to help?’ she said in a loud whisper, scared of making a noise. She peered in through the car’s door at a jumble of tools, ropes and paint cans. Sean rummaged about and took out a pair of secateurs which he gave to her. ‘You can hold these,’ he said, turning back and pulling out the ladder with a great deal of metal clattering. Thea shivered.

  ‘Are you cold? I shouldn’t have dragged you out from the fireside, should I? This isn’t what you signed up for, is it?’ He actually looked worried. Did he imagine she’d be asking for a refund?

  ‘No, honestly I’m not cold, just a little nervous, that’s all. And you didn’t drag me away. I’m really enjoying this.’ And she was – this was the most silly, exhilarating fun she’d had in ages. She smiled at him and he stood with the ladder leaning against him, looking at her.

  ‘You really do look like an elf,’ he said. ‘I think it’s the way those silly fronds of your hair are sticking up at the front. I like this pinkish one.’ He flicked at one of them and she ducked, giggling, tripping on a fallen branch and almost falling. ‘Sorry!’ He grabbed her arm. ‘I am an idiot.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re completely nuts and you’re fun, but you’re not an idiot.’

  ‘Phew. Relief. Right, now I’ll get the ladder up.’

  He’d done this before, she thought, watching as he expertly set up the ladder after checking the ground for the right stable spot. ‘OK, hang on to it and don’t let go,’ he instructed. ‘This thing is a bit flimsy.’

  ‘Now you tell me,’ she said as he went up the first few rungs.

  He looked down and grinned at her. ‘I didn’t tell you I don’t like heights either, but needs must. You can’t say I don’t go the extra mile for my house-guests.’ And he vanished in the darkness of the lower branches while Thea counted the steps as the ladder shook under her hands.

  All was still for several minutes before there came a loud whooshing sound, a rush of wind through the leaves, a ‘Jeez! Fuck!’ from above – and Thea was convinced that at any second Sean would be hurtling to the ground. As she stared upwards, the pale shape of a barn owl swooped past. She held her breath but all seemed well and a couple of minutes later there were rhythmic clunks on the ladder and Sean came down again, clutching the biggest bunch of mistletoe she’d ever seen.

  ‘Wow, it’s massive!’ she breathed. ‘I’m impressed!’

  ‘Yeah, they all say that,’ he chuckled, then, ‘Oops, sorry, inappropriate – forgive me.’

  ‘I had no idea what you were implying,’ she teased. ‘After all, I am a mere maiden aunt.’

  ‘Ah yes, I’d forgotten. Here, hold this, Miss Innocent, while I get the ladder down.’ He handed over the mistletoe and she held it gingerly, afraid to crush its mass of berries. ‘And please don’t, whatever you do, drop it.’

  ‘I’ll do my best, but—’

  ‘No, really.’ He looked serious. ‘If you drop it, all its powers will vanish into the ground.’

  ‘You believe all that pagan stuff?’

  ‘Of course I do. I’m Cornish. Mistletoe has powers for friendship and fertility. Don’t want to take a risk with either of those, do we?’

  ‘No, we don’t,’ she agreed, carefully carrying the mistletoe to the car as Sean stowed the ladder in the back.

  ‘Did you see that bloody owl?’ he said as they drove through the estate gates. ‘Thought it was going to take my head off. It must have been sitting inches from where I snipped off that mistletoe.’

  ‘I saw it – fabulous bird. We don’t get a lot of those in West London, though it did give me a scary moment too – it sounded as if you were going to fall off the ladder.’

  ‘What would you have done?’ he asked.

  ‘Left you there, taken the car and pretended I’d never been out, I expect.’

  He laughed. ‘Are you sure you haven’t got form? I should have checked your references. You’re on parole from a long GBH stretch, aren’t you? I knew it.’

  ‘Bang to rights. They’ve only let me out for Christmas.’

  ‘Will you show me your ankle tag?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ she said. ‘I’m not that sort of girl.’

  ‘But are you the sort who’d like to celebrate our successful mission with a quick drink down at the Fish?’

  His request surprised her; she’d assumed they were heading straight back but it was still early and she didn’t much want to go back and have the rest of them questioning her. ‘OK, yes, that would be great. First round’s on me, though, as a thank you for the mistletoe.’

  ‘It’s a deal,’ he said, speeding up a bit now they were back on a proper road. Sleet was falling again as, just minutes later, they climbed out of the car in the pub car park. Thea wrapped her arms round her body and huffed clouds of steam into the night air.

  ‘There’ll be proper snow tomorrow,’ Sean said, looking up at the sky as they went into the hugely welcoming warmth of the pub. ‘It’ll be an incredibly rare white Christmas.’

  The pub, the Fisherman’s Arms, was the same one that Thea and the family had had lunch in. It seemed like days ago somehow, even thoug
h it was only a few hours, and the rest of the family seemed half a world away rather than little more than half a mile. At the bar she bought a half of shandy for Sean and a glass of the pub’s Christmas special mulled wine for herself and took them to a corner table where Sean had bagged a cushioned bench close to a log fire.

  ‘I’ve never seen a white Christmas,’ Thea told him as she peeled off her coat, hat and scarf and plonked them down on the bench between them.

  ‘Me neither,’ he said, gathering up her clothes and moving them to the far side of him. He shuffled closer to her. ‘I’m more used to Christmases on hot beaches. I’ve been one of those really annoying people who calls up the family in the UK far too early in the morning from Australia and brags about having a barbie on the beach.’

  ‘Was that when you were surfing?’

  ‘That’s it. Contests on the circuit in winter in the southern hemisphere.’

  ‘Sounds idyllic,’ she said, sighing. ‘No fog, no sleet, no half the day in darkness.’

  ‘It was OK for a few years. But you realize two things quite quickly: you’re never going to be World Champion while there are Americans and Aussies in possession of surfboards, and second, that you really do miss home and family and even the bleak weather like mad. I used to get off the plane at Heathrow and sniff at the cold air like a dog scenting a cooked sausage.’

  ‘What are you doing on Christmas Day?’ she asked, suddenly having a mad thought that he might like to join her and the family. After all, it was his house they were in.

  ‘Going to Paul’s. His family are from round here.’

  Of course he was going to be with Paul – where else would he be? For a moment there, she’d forgotten about the two of them. It had almost begun to feel as if she was with someone she might … no, ridiculous to think like that. Wasn’t it always the way though? There had to be a catch.

  Later, Sean drove them back to Cove Manor and parked behind the Stables again. The Mercedes had gone.

  ‘Paul’s out,’ she said, then felt rather silly. It didn’t need saying if the car wasn’t there and also, what had it to do with her?

  ‘He’ll be back at the parental gaff,’ Sean said. ‘He’s keen on its proper carpets and the lack of a cat.’

  ‘Oh right, I see.’ She didn’t really, but it wasn’t for her to question without looking intrusively nosy. She clambered out of the car and Sean opened the back door and carefully lifted out the mistletoe.

  ‘Are you going in through the front door or back? I’ll carry this for you, if you like. And I’ll come over in the morning and hang it up for you.’

  ‘Back door, I think. I’ll put it in my room and surprise them with this in the morning.’

  ‘OK. Let me escort you to your door then.’

  The two of them walked over the cobbles, Sean holding her hand which she assumed was because the ground was slippery. She opened the door and turned to say goodnight when a question came to mind. ‘Why did you ask me to come and hold the ladder and not one of the others? My brother Jimi would have gone with you.’

  He considered for a moment, ‘Well, the truth is …’ and he hesitated, ‘you’re a lot prettier than Jimi.’ He scuffed his foot on the ground like a caught-out schoolboy.

  ‘Oh. Right. Um … well, that’s very sweet of you to say.’ She felt confused. This almost felt like flirting. Wasn’t that the equivalent of her flirting with a girl?

  ‘We should test this,’ Sean said, holding out the mistletoe.

  ‘Oh yes, we should. Thanks for a lovely evening, Sean, and goodnight.’ She leaned forward to kiss his cheek but his mouth seemed to land very close to hers. She kissed him briefly and stepped back. Awkward. ‘Sorry!’ she said, laughing. He was smiling at her, looking as if he was enjoying her discomfort.

  ‘Hey, don’t be sorry. Here,’ he said, handing her the mistletoe, ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Nine thirty sharp, you and me and a hammer.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she told him, going in through the door.

  ‘Sweet dreams, Elf,’ he said, turning away towards the Stables block.

  ‘And to you, Sean. And thanks.’

  EIGHT

  Oh God, Alec! Anna came out of the shower, glowy and warm, and suddenly remembered what it was she should have done yesterday. She’d assumed it was something to do with Christmas and as she shampooed her hair she’d quickly run through the presents she’d bought, checking she hadn’t left someone out. But Alec – oh, the guilt. She’d forgotten all about him, which was completely horrible of her. The iPad had been left on its charger all day and night and she hadn’t even bothered to read the third of his emails.

  Now, as she rushed to the still-charging iPad to read it she almost dreaded looking, sure that by now he’d have sent either a hurt message or a furious one. She wouldn’t blame him. The truth was that she’d had a lovely evening, watching the second of the DVDs that Mike had got his … friend Charlotte to help put together and she’d pretty much forgotten the existence of anyone outside Cove Manor. She hoped that Alec had recovered from what had sounded very much like a not-ideal day with his children. How sad that it didn’t go well. But perhaps it was only the goose they hadn’t liked, and everything else had been brilliant.

  Email number three from him was a relief. He sounded cheerier because he and the children had parted on good terms and they’d loved their presents. Phew. She vaguely started concocting an apologetic reply as she skimmed through a few more messages, mostly from retailers she’d bought things from in the past, offering her unmissable bargains in the New Year sales, and then she clicked on the most recent one – sent that morning about an hour before. Goodness, Alec was an early riser.

  … so as my brother’s gone to Ireland, I’m taking up your offer. Train arrives Truro at 2.30. Can’t wait to see you.

  What the hell was he playing at? Those last throwaway words she’d said to him that day – did he really take them as a proper invitation? Maybe he wasn’t coming to stay with her. Perhaps he had other friends in Cornwall. It was a big county, after all, with lots of people in it. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. This thought didn’t help.

  Anna felt shaky. She put on her dressing gown and padded along the corridor to the room at the far end and knocked. Mike’s sleepy voice answered and she went in. He had his lamp on and was reading last week’s Private Eye. He looked younger, she thought, in the lamp’s soft orangey glow. She’d almost forgotten what a sweet just-woken face he had.

  ‘After more than forty years, I don’t think you need to knock, Annie,’ he said, pulling back the duvet and patting the mattress. ‘What’s up? You look worried.’

  She climbed into bed beside him and hauled the duvet up to her chin. ‘I am,’ she said. There was no point pretending she wasn’t.

  ‘What about? It’s all going well so far, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is. That’s what I’m worried about. That it might not after this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh. How did you know?’ He looked at her, puzzled. ‘I haven’t said anything yet.’

  ‘Know what?’

  He was silent for a minute. ‘Ah. I thought you meant bloody Charlotte. She only wants to come and see me – this afternoon. I tried to put her off but I only said half of what I wanted to say and she’d taken it as an invitation before I got to tell her that no, it wasn’t at all a good idea. Sorry. I’ll just go and have a quick drink with her in a pub somewhere and send her back to Plymouth with her mate.’

  Anna felt thoroughly confused. ‘I didn’t know about any of this, Mike. What’s “bloody Charlotte” doing in Plymouth, for heaven’s sake?’

  ‘Snow White.’

  Anna spluttered a laugh. ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘No really, working in pantomime. Or at least she was. They don’t usually end a run before Christmas Eve, do they?’

  ‘No. of course not. That and New Year’s Eve are the absolute sell-out shows.’ So Charlotte was coming. Oh, the joy. But at least that was only for a few h
ours, unlike Alec.

  ‘So if you didn’t know, then what’s bugging you?’

  ‘Someone I’ve – er, been seeing just now and then. I said something stupid about being only a train-ride away and he’s – well, he’s got on a train.’

  Mike laughed. ‘Oh no. That’s hilarious! He’s not coming to stay, is he? What will the children think?’

  ‘It’s not funny, Mike! This trip is supposed to be about …’

  ‘… about getting used to the idea that we’re still going to be absolutely fine as a family even when we’re divorced? Well, exactly. But I guess this is how it will be and what they’ll have to get used to. Us being with other people at some point. It’ll be a chance for them to see how civilized and so on the arrangement can be. All one big happy extended family. Isn’t that what we’re aiming for?’

  ‘Yes, but not yet,’ Anna said. ‘And not – well, not Alec. And not here. Also, not permanently. Not like …’

  ‘Us?’ he said softly, taking her hand.

  ‘Yes. Not like us. Old-us. He’s mostly just a friend.’

  Did Mike wince at the word ‘mostly’? She hoped not. This wasn’t about causing him pain; she absolutely hated the idea of doing that. And besides, he’d got Charlotte, hadn’t he? Anna couldn’t help feeling a teeny bit prickly about that, but she could hardly complain: this really was the so-amicable future they’d been practising for this past year. She just wished it hadn’t suddenly crept up and pounced on her like this.

  ‘Well, seeing as it looks like a fait accompli,’ Mike said thoughtfully, ‘I suppose there is still a room spare, next to this one. Unless, of course …’ He gave her a questioning look.

  ‘Oh God no, don’t even think of it. I couldn’t. Not here. Can you imagine what the children would say?’

  ‘I can. Though they’re hardly “children”, and why they think there’s an age cut-off point for all that malarkey, I really don’t know.’