The Christmas Stocking and Other Stories

by Katie Fforde

  She also had to think now where Zoe’s Frenchman was going to sleep. Fenella suddenly felt a bit tearful and realised she probably was pregnant. She wouldn’t usually be fazed by a little thing like finding places to put people.

  Rupert was looking pleased with himself when she got back down to the kitchen. The girls were eating baked potatoes and beans but, as they often did, this couldn’t have been the reason for his smugness.

  ‘I’ve saved the situation!’ he declared with a triumphant gesture.

  ‘Really?’ She smiled encouragingly. Apart from persuading his parents to go to a nice hotel for Christmas she wasn’t sure there was any way of saving it.

  ‘I’ve got us a nanny to help with all the children.’

  Fenella sat down and looked at the bottle of wine that was on the table, wondering if she wanted a glass or not. ‘How did you manage that?’

  By the time Rupert had finished explaining, her doubts were increased. The nanny Rupert was talking about was Meggie, the daughter of friends of theirs. Meggie was charming, young and pretty but very shy. ‘But why is Meggie willing to spend Christmas with us?’ continued Fenella.

  ‘It’s her dad’s turn to have her for Christmas this year and Meggie hates going apparently,’ Rupert explained. ‘And as I’ll be paying her handsomely, her father, who’s very mean about paying for anything for her, couldn’t object!’ he finished triumphantly.

  ‘I like Meggie,’ said five-year-old Glory, putting a baked bean in her mouth with finger and thumb.

  ‘So do I,’ said Simmy, who habitually copied her older sister.

  ‘That’s all right then. I’m sure Meggie will be wonderful,’ said Fenella, but really she felt that Rupert had just given her another person to look after at Christmas. However, as he’d obviously gone to a lot of trouble to try and help her, Fenella couldn’t possibly say so. ‘When’s she coming?’

  ‘She’ll be here just after lunch tomorrow. In time to give us plenty of help.’

  ‘You know Fenella and Rupert,’ Meggie’s mother, Amanda, was saying to her on the drive to Somerby. ‘They’re lovely! And Rupert’s paying mega-bucks.’

  Meggie smiled at her mother’s outdated slang. ‘Which I’m sure is why Dad agreed to it. But you are right, Christmas at Somerby will be so much better than Christmas at Dad’s, with Ignatia.’

  ‘The Iguana,’ said her mother with a smile. That was what they’d called Ignatia when her husband had first left her for the younger woman.

  ‘The stick insect more like, who clearly thinks I’m fat,’ said Meggie.

  ‘Darling, she’s just jealous of your curves. Yours are real and hers are silicone!’ said her mother, shooting Meggie an anxious glance. ‘You’re a beautiful, lovely young woman with great skin—’

  ‘I know I’m not fat! But the Iguana says – hints heavily anyway – that if I were thinner I’d have a boyfriend. She will say, because she said it the last time I was there, that a girl in her first year at university who hasn’t got a boyfriend has something wrong with her.’ She paused, reliving the humiliating conversation. ‘Which is her way of saying I’m overweight and lack social skills.’

  ‘You’re shy—’

  Meggie sighed. ‘But I’m good with children which is why Ignatia tolerates me at all. I’m useful with her little ones. It’s fine. I can spend this Christmas being a nanny instead of being at Dad’s.’

  ‘Oh, darling, you are happy about this job, aren’t you? It’s just when I rang Rupert about firewood and he mentioned about his parents coming and their friends’ babies teething he seemed so utterly delighted when I suggested—’

  Meggie patted her mother’s knee reassuringly. ‘It’s OK, Mum, really. And you squared it with Dad so I don’t have to.’

  ‘It seems awful that you’ll have more fun being a nanny than visiting your dad, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Obviously I’d rather be with you and Jim,’ said Meggie. ‘But at least this way Dad can’t get at me for not working in the holidays.’ She sighed. ‘I think he’s forgotten where we live and as I don’t drive it’s not easy!’

  ‘I know, darling. And I love having you at home, and you’re so sweet with Petal …’

  ‘Of course. She’s my baby half-sister and I love her!’

  Her mother shot Meggie a smile before checking the signpost and turning left. ‘He said you can put the money towards driving lessons.’

  ‘Kind of him to tell me how to spend it,’ said Meggie. ‘I’d planned to do that anyway.’

  ‘He is mean,’ her mother acknowledged, ‘and a bit controlling. Always has been. Worse now.’

  They lapsed into silence for a moment. Amanda broke it saying, ‘Anyway, he said as long as you’re there for New Year’s Eve—’

  ‘So I can babysit?’

  ‘No, they’re having a party—’

  ‘So I can be a waitress then,’ said Meggie. She preferred the babysitting option. She loved her half-brother and -sister and they loved her. Children didn’t make judgements about people in the way that adults did. At her father’s parties her stepmother spent a lot of time telling people Meggie was not her daughter, implying she’d have had to be about ten when she gave birth to her. Another, heavier silence fell in the car.

  ‘I think it’s this lane,’ said Meggie. ‘Just drop me here or you may have to reverse out if there are a lot of cars there already.’

  Meggie walked up the long sweeping drive, looking at the enormous old house that the Gainsboroughs were gradually restoring. It stood on a hill overlooking the surrounding countryside, wintery now but still beautiful. Apparently the house had been built in the Queen Anne period but had been added to over the centuries. The additions made it less elegant but somehow friendly – and of course bigger.

  When she arrived she was startled to see the entire Gainsborough family on the doorstep to greet her. She was a little out of breath after the long walk up the drive.

  ‘Sorry for the welcoming committee,’ said Fenella, kissing her cheek. ‘We spotted you from an upstairs window and the girls rushed down.’

  ‘And I was coming up from the kitchen as they reached the front door,’ said Rupert, taking her case. ‘Thank you so much for coming. I can’t tell you how grateful we are.’

  ‘It feels like such a long time since we last saw you, Meggie,’ added Fenella. ‘You’re in your first year at university now, aren’t you? Goodness me, I wish I’d looked as lovely as you do halfway through my first year. Too many parties, not enough sleep! But you look absolutely radiant.’

  ‘Oh, well, I’m not much of one for parties,’ Meggie said. She smiled, but was unable to stop feeling nervous. The last time she had visited Somerby, some years ago, there had been lots of dogs, but there were none now. It felt wrong, somehow. ‘Where are the dogs?’

  Fenella looked a little forlorn. ‘Our old Bessie died a couple of months ago. We’re dog-free now.’ She smiled briefly and then said, ‘Come on, girls. Shall we show Meggie her room?’

  ‘I’ll show her!’ said Glory, taking charge, heading inside and setting off up the stairs, Simmy close behind her. Rupert followed both girls with Meggie’s case.

  ‘When you’re settled in we’ll have a cup of tea,’ said Fenella as she and Meggie went up the stairs a bit more sedately.

  ‘Only if you’re having one,’ said Meggie, very aware that she was being paid and mustn’t just be an extra guest. ‘There’s no point in my being here if you have to look after me.’

  Fenella paused, laughing. ‘I’m delighted you’re here and I always want tea. Although as it’s Christmas, we could have something stronger if we fancied. It’s after lunch after all!’

  ‘Definitely,’ they heard Rupert say, ‘it’s almost obligatory.’

  As Meggie and Fenella reached the landing, Glory took hold of Meggie’s hand and led her to a small room squashed between two larger ones.

  ‘I’ll leave you girls to it,’ said Rupert. ‘I have to light a fire in the dining room. If I don’t
get the chimney warmed up the room will double as an ice house when we want to use it tomorrow.’ He ran downstairs, his long legs making short work of it.

  ‘I’m sorry it’s so tiny,’ said Fenella apologetically in the doorway of the room. ‘It was originally a powder room, or an extra bedroom really, belonging to the suite where the girls are. Their suite has a beautiful bathroom with a slightly sunken double bath, perfect for bathing children. Once the wedding season starts they’ll have to move out of it, but now, it’s handy.’

  Meggie looked about her. The room was small, but it was cosy and looked comfortable.

  ‘The infamous bathroom is just here,’ said Fenella, opening a door on the landing. ‘The girls use it as a sort of heated swimming pool,’ she explained, ‘although it’s not that big.’

  ‘I want a bath now,’ said Simmy.

  Meggie tried to remember why she was called Simmy but failed. ‘It’s quite early for a bath, isn’t it?’ she said, bending down to the little girl. Meggie often wished she felt as confident talking to adults as she did children.

  Fenella took her youngest daughter by the hand. ‘Meggie must have a cup of tea and maybe some Christmas biscuits before she does anything else. The twins will be here soon.’ Fenella looked at Meggie. ‘They’re about six months, and apparently they’re teething. Just the thing to make my parents-in-law’s Christmas perfect! Luckily they’re sleeping quite far away.’

  Fenella looked tired, thought Meggie. ‘Let me know if you want me to make up beds or anything,’ she said. ‘I can stuff turkeys, too. I like to be useful.’

  Fenella went ashen. ‘The turkey! I’ve forgotten to pick it up! I wonder if Rupert can go?’

  Meggie could see Fenella teetering between wanting to be a good and welcoming hostess and needing to collect the turkey. ‘I expect the girls could take me down to the kitchen,’ she said. ‘And I could make my own tea. Then you could fetch the turkey?’

  ‘Would you manage?’ said Fenella, looking relieved.

  ‘Of course. Glory and Simmy will show me where everything is if Rupert’s not there,’ said Meggie. ‘Really.’

  ‘That’s so kind of you. I know he’s got to extend the dining-room table, which means finding bits. We never use the dining room if it’s just us and most of the people we have over are happy in the kitchen so getting the room fit for purpose takes a bit of doing.’

  At that moment, Rupert reappeared at the end of the landing, carrying two bedside lamps. ‘These are for my parents’ room. You know how they like everything to be well lit and I remembered we were short of lamps in the Pink Room,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, you’re brilliant, Rupe! I was going to do something about that but totally forgot! What time are you picking your parents up?’ asked Fenella, looking at her watch. ‘I’ve got to get the turkey.’

  ‘I told them I couldn’t pick them up.’ He sounded pleased with himself. ‘I’ve arranged a taxi.’

  ‘Rupert! And they were OK with that?’

  ‘Of course not. But it’ll bring them from their door, so they have to put up with it. They know it’s all very last minute.’

  ‘So what time will they be here?’

  ‘About six o’clock.’

  Fenella’s eyes widened. ‘That late?’

  ‘I told them it was because the taxis were busy but I wanted to give you maximum time to get ready. Which you’ll need if you have to go out now.’

  ‘I’ll help,’ said Meggie. ‘Just ask me. I’m good at present-wrapping too.’

  ‘Doesn’t Father Christmas wrap his own presents?’ asked Glory.

  ‘No,’ said Fenella, ‘only the ones he puts in your stocking. We have to wrap the others. And as I can never make myself do it as I buy them, I would be very grateful for some help, Meggie!’

  It was dark and Meggie and the girls were in the bathroom. Glory and Simmy were splashing merrily in the huge bath and Meggie was reviewing the afternoon. She’d wrapped presents for Fenella, made another batch of biscuits with the girls and gone round the garden and done posies for the guest bedrooms using rose hips, rosemary and ivy, with wisps of old man’s beard. She was enjoying herself. She felt useful and appreciated. And it was a welcome change not having her diet-obsessed stepmother hovering around making her feel inadequate.

  The Gainsboroughs’ Christmas promised to be heavenly too. The plan was that when the girls had stayed in the bath as long as they could before they became wrinkled they were going downstairs in their nighties to look at the tree. Fenella had explained that, in theory, they wouldn’t have seen it lit up before. Of course they had, but this time, because it was Christmas Eve, it would be special. This long bath was to encourage them to sleep this evening.

  Meggie was reading ‘The Night Before Christmas’ to the children while they splashed when she heard noises, voices and greetings floating up from downstairs. They would be the other guests, she realised. She’d had time to feel comfortable with Fenella and Rupert but the thought of meeting their smart friends was daunting. Fenella had filled Meggie in earlier: Hugo was a photographer, his wife Sarah a wedding planner, and Gideon and Zoe a food writer and chef respectively. They were obviously old and close friends. Meggie would just shrink into the background and stay with the children as much as possible. It was what she did when she stayed with her father, or at least tried to.

  Then there was more commotion, this time accompanied by the sound of crying babies. These must be Sarah and Hugo’s twins that Fenella had told her about, part of the reason Meggie was there. The sound of crying got louder and she realised the twins were on their way upstairs.

  ‘Hi!’ said a posh male voice. Meggie turned to see a tall, blond man standing in the bathroom door, babe in arms. ‘So sorry to intrude but Fen said we should come straight up. I’m Hugo, by the way, this little monster’s dad. Sarah’s got the other one.’

  ‘Uncle Hugo!’ said Glory.

  Meggie had got up and automatically put her hands out to take the crying baby the man was holding.

  He pulled away, laughing. ‘I wouldn’t take him if I were you. We have a nappy situation.’

  Meggie laughed softly and went on holding out her hands. ‘I’m an expert on nappies,’ she said. Her father declared changing nappies was not part of his job description so Meggie had changed many a dirty nappy when she’d been staying and Ignatia was out.

  ‘Oh well,’ said Hugo. ‘If you don’t mind. This one is Ted, short for Edward. Fen suggested we put them both in the bath – which I now see is the size of a swimming pool – with these girls.’ He looked at it.

  ‘Ergh!’ said Glory. ‘Not if they’re pooey.’

  ‘They won’t be “pooey” when I’ve finished with them,’ said Meggie, who had laid Ted down on the bathmat and was taking off his clothes.

  ‘I see you’re an expert,’ said the man.

  A woman, elegant but a bit tired-looking, carrying another screaming baby, came into the bathroom. ‘I’ve got the nappy bag.’ She paused, seeing Meggie stripping off her son. ‘Are you all right with poo?’ she asked Meggie. ‘I’m Sarah, and this one is Imogen. We call her Immi.’

  ‘I’m Meggie and I’m fine with poo,’ said Meggie, thinking that as a way of introducing herself it summed her up quite well.

  Now Ted was free of his nappy and most of his clothes, the crying stopped. Meggie took Immi and laid her down next to her brother.

  ‘You have got a way with them,’ said Sarah. ‘I’ll go and get their bath seats.’ She smiled at the little girls already in the bath. ‘Don’t worry, they’ll be all cleaned up beautifully before they join you.’ She put her hand in the water. ‘Perfect temperature.’

  A little later Meggie was on her own with the four children. The girls were delighted with their new companions. Simmy – short for Cymbeline, Meggie had remembered – was particularly fascinated by her new, real-life bath toys who kicked and gurgled in their seats in a very satisfactory way.

  Rupert appeared in the doorway, assessed the sit
uation, and then said to no one in particular, ‘I’m going to organise drinks.’ He ducked out of the room.

  ‘Thanks!’ called Sarah from her bedroom, where she was unpacking.

  Meggie had found bath towels, thinking it was time the bigger girls got out of the bath. Once they were dry and dressed she could consult about the babies.

  She had just done up the girls’ adorable matching rose-patterned nighties when there was a cough in the doorway. The best-looking man Meggie thought she’d ever seen was standing there with a bottle of champagne in one hand and three flutes threaded between the fingers of the other.

  ‘My goodness!’ said Fenella to Zoe when she’d seen the Frenchman disappear up the stairs with the champagne. They headed into the warmth of the kitchen and Fenella added conspiratorially, ‘Where did you find him? And will Meggie be able to cope?’

  ‘Sarah said Meggie was brilliant with the babies,’ said Hugo, father of the babies concerned, following Fenella and Zoe into the room.

  Fenella made a face at Zoe, who was laughing. ‘Not quite what we meant, Hugo darling.’ They both sat down at the kitchen table.

  Zoe’s husband, Gideon, came into the kitchen with a huge pile of boxes that were obviously full of food. ‘He’s the son of a major wine producer and he’s working with us for a bit to broaden his experience and perfect his English.’

  ‘He likes babies,’ said Zoe, unconsciously putting a hand on her own pregnant stomach. ‘Apparently he misses his little nieces and nephews.’

  ‘Oh!’ Fenella felt suddenly sentimental. ‘What a shame he couldn’t get home for Christmas, then.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Gideon, removing a huge dish full of something golden from a box. ‘He’s not that keen on his brothers and sisters.’

  ‘Speaking of little people, I have to say I’m looking forward to seeing Glory and Simmy. They must have grown so much since the last time,’ said Zoe.

  ‘They have! And can I just say, I really appreciate the fact that you give Simmy just as nice presents as you do Glory, Zoe. When I was little my sister used to be given amazing dresses from Harrods by her godmother and of course I just had to watch her getting them. I cried once and felt terribly embarrassed when her godmother, possibly prompted by my mother, bought one for me, too.’ Fenella cleared her throat and told herself sharply to get her hormones under control.