by June Tate
He stopped her. ‘Right, give me the potatoes and veg, a large saucepan and bowl for the peelings … and a knife.’
She did as she was asked and was very surprised when her husband took them to the table, put them down and spoke to his mother.
‘Here, Mum. Peel this lot ready for tomorrow. Dorothy has far too much to do on her own, and we all have to do our bit.’
Madge looked up ready to argue but she saw the expression on her son’s face and shut her mouth. Picking up the knife, she started.
George looked across at his wife and winked.
When Connie came home, she made the mince pies, and the family listened to carols being played on the radio whilst George decorated the tree. Dorothy thought she’d never remembered a more delightful Christmas Eve, and after a glass or two of sherry, even Madge appeared in a better frame of mind.
Kay was trying to keep her daughter, Susan, from becoming overexcited about Father Christmas arriving with his gifts. They carefully placed a mince pie, a glass of sherry and some carrots in the fireplace, all ready for the visitor.
‘Put them further to the side, Mummy, or Father Christmas will knock the glass over when he comes down the chimney!’ Susan demanded.
‘How silly of me,’ Kay said, hiding a smile. She loved Christmas, but now that Susan was four, the magic of childhood and the festive season was such a joy and something to be cherished. She wondered where John was spending his time and was sad for a moment that this year was no longer one as a family unit. In the past the one thing he did hold sacrosanct was Christmas, when – she had to admit – he took his place as a father with great enthusiasm. But she was determined not to let it spoil the holiday.
At that moment there was a ring on the front doorbell. Kay rose to her feet and opened it. To her great surprise a young woman stood there with an enormous bouquet of flowers.
‘Mrs Baker?’
‘Yes.’
‘These are for you, Madam. Merry Christmas!’
Kay walked into her sitting room and, taking the small envelope from the centre, opened it.
Merry Christmas Kay! Thank you for making my evening so very enjoyable at the Polygon Hotel. I hope to see you again in the near future. Regards, Edward.
She sat down and reread the card then looked at the flowers. There was a mixture of bronze, lemon and red flowers, some seasonal and some not, and she knew they must have cost a small fortune. She couldn’t stop smiling. The doorbell rang again.
John stood there, arms full of gifts, looking somewhat uneasy.
‘Daddy!’ Susan ran to the door.
‘You’d better come in,’ said Kay.
The next two hours she watched John play with her daughter, thinking how it all could have been so different, had he not been a ladies’ man.
He tried to flatter her, but Kay ignored the signals, and then he saw the flowers.
‘How beautiful,’ he remarked and walked over to them. He picked up the card and read it. ‘You haven’t wasted any time!’ he snapped.
‘He’s just a business colleague,’ she said and felt pleased he was about to leave.
When he’d gone, she picked up the flowers and arranged them in a vase. Well, what a surprise, she thought as she did so. But she was secretly thrilled that the mysterious Edward wanted to see her again. It did a great deal to boost her ego.
Jake Barton sat in his living room, a bottle of whiskey, some ginger ale, a pork pie and a jar of pickled onions on the table. He wasn’t bothered about Christmas, it was for families and sentiment, neither of which had any part in his life. Nevertheless, he was feeling pleased with himself. This year had been a mixed one for him, but in the end had turned out very well, thank you very much, he thought as he felt the liquid warm his throat as he drank. Next year promised to be even better – he could hardly wait!
Twelve
Sam arrived at noon on Christmas Day, carrying several gaily wrapped parcels and two bottles of wine. When Connie saw them she looked at him, saying, ‘Good Heavens, you look like Santa Claus!’
He kissed her. ‘It’s Christmas Day after all! Have you all opened your presents yet?’
‘No, we usually do that after lunch. They’re all round the tree.’
‘Then let’s put these with them,’ he suggested.
He greeted Dorothy warmly, shook George by the hand and smiled at Madge. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said.
‘Merry Christmas,’ she replied, without a smile – and Connie’s heart sank.
George poured them both a beer and immediately started talking about the next racing event. Dorothy and Connie grinned at one another, leaving them to chat whilst they carried on with the cooking, the table having been laid in readiness earlier in the morning.
Eventually, it was time to eat. The turkey was succulent, and the meal was eaten with much merriment. Crackers were pulled, mottos read, hats worn and the wine was enjoyed by them all.
Connie noticed that Madge’s glass was well topped up by her boyfriend as he chatted to her, trying to get past her frosty demeanour until the alcohol seemed to be doing the trick and she eventually relaxed, to Connie’s great relief.
After the meal and the table was cleared, they gathered in front of the tree and the parcels were handed round. Sam had bought a book about touring car racing for George, some perfume for Dorothy and then he handed Madge her gift.
Flushed by the warmth of the fire and the wine she’d drunk, she undid the wrapping with indecent haste and showed an unexpected delight at the beautiful scarf inside.
‘It’s lovely,’ she exclaimed. ‘Thank you.’
Connie and her mother looked at each other with raised eyebrows. It was the first time they could remember Madge thanking anyone for anything.
‘I thought the colours matched your eyes, Mrs Morgan,’ said Sam.
The old girl was rendered speechless.
Sam then handed a small box to Connie. ‘I hope you like it, sweetheart.’
Inside was a dainty gold watch.
‘Oh, Sam, it’s exquisite, thank you.’ She leaned forward and kissed him.
He was equally pleased with his gifts too, and so the day went well, with Madge succumbing to the effects of the wine, quietly snoring in the armchair, therefore unable to spoil things for everyone.
At the end of the day, Connie left with Sam. They planned to leave his flat early the next morning, heading for his parents’ house in Poole, and apart from making things easier, they wanted to be together as long as possible on their first Christmas.
Snuggled up in bed together Connie chuckled and said, ‘You were very crafty with my grandmother, filling her glass so often.’
‘I don’t know what you mean!’ But he too was soon laughing. ‘It seemed a good idea. I thought it would loosen her up a bit, that’s all.’
‘Well, if she becomes an alcoholic, it’ll be your fault!’
Letting out a deep sigh he said, ‘I really enjoyed today. Thank you for letting me be a part of your family Christmas.’
‘Oh, Sam! As long as we were together it didn’t matter where we were,’ she said, and she kissed him. ‘I only hope tomorrow will work out as well.’
He pulled her close. ‘My folks will love you, as I do.’
Not everyone had such a good day. John Baker had enjoyed his short visit with his daughter on Christmas Eve and had then spent the rest of the evening among the revellers at a nearby pub. But never had he felt so alone. He missed his family. When he’d walked into the house and seen the tree and all the decorations, smelt the mince pies baking in the oven, he realized just what he’d lost. On Christmas Day he had lunch at a hotel, which made matters worse, as the other tables were filled by families enjoying themselves. As soon as he could, he left and returned to an empty flat. This was no way to live, he decided. Tomorrow, on Boxing Day, he’d ring Kay and see if there was some way they could resolve their differences.
But in the morning, when he tried, there was no reply.
Jake
Barton had been to his local pub on Christmas morning. He drank a few beers with Gerry Cooper, followed by a few games of darts, and at two o’clock, when the pub closed for the day, Jake accepted an invitation to have Christmas lunch with him in his somewhat dingy house, cooked by an equally dingy wife, who was mainly ignored by both men as they sat planning for the future.
‘We’ve done really well, so far,’ Gerry said, ‘but now the building is nearly finished we have to be a bit careful. The next project starts in January and that should be very lucrative.’
‘I’m not complaining,’ said Jake, grinning, and he drained the contents of his glass of beer. ‘It’s all worked out so far. I can’t see any problems, can you?’
Gerry shook his head, then put out his hand and touched the edge of the table. ‘Touch wood! So far no one has been at all suspicious. We’ve been too clever for them. What about Edward Harrington?’
‘He’s as good as gold, no worries there,’ Jake assured him.
‘Good! Want another beer?’
The drive through the New Forest on Boxing Day morning was enjoyable, and Sam’s parents were waiting eagerly to greet them when they eventually arrived in Poole. His mother was a delightful woman, who made Connie more than welcome, as did his father. After lunch, Sam and Connie strolled along the quay, wrapped up against the cold, arms round each other, chatting as they walked.
‘There, that wasn’t such an ordeal, was it?’ he said.
With a look of relief, she answered, ‘No, thank heavens. I was a nervous wreck when I arrived, but your parents are lovely.’
‘I don’t see nearly enough of them,’ he confessed, ‘but you’ve seen what it’s like when we have to prepare for the next race. There’s little time for anything else.’ He stopped and took her into a shop doorway, out of the cold.
He enclosed her in his arms and, looking into her eyes, he said, ‘If things work out the way I hope in the next few months, I hope that we can put our relationship on a more permanent basis.’
‘What are you saying, Sam?’ Connie held her breath.
‘I’m saying that I want you with me always, sweetheart. I love you, you know that. You’re sweet, and I love your innocence. You make me want to protect you from other men. I can’t bear the thought of anyone else holding you, making love to you. I want to have been the only man in your life.’
The happiness that had filled her being suddenly plummeted. He must never know of her affair with John Baker!
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
‘Nothing, why?’
‘Well, darling, I’ve just told you I want us to marry in the future, and you frowned. It’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting.’
She managed a smile. ‘I was just a bit overcome, that’s all. I’m thrilled. You must know that I want those things too?’ She reached up and kissed him.
‘We’ll keep our plans to ourselves for a while, that’s until the time comes when I feel I’m able, financially, to set up a home for the two of us.’
The festive holiday was soon over and everyone returned to work. Kay was busy typing up reports on the work on various building projects that were near completion and schedules for new work to be started in the New Year. When she’d completed one report, she took it to the chief clerk who scanned through it briefly but with a practised eye.
‘This looks fine to me, Mrs Baker. I’m tied up here so would you mind taking it along to the chief architect? His office is on the next floor.’
Kay ran up the stairs and read the plaque on the wall explaining where the various offices were situated, then walked along the corridor until she came to a door with CHIEF ARCHITECT printed on it. She knocked.
‘Come in,’ a voice called.
She opened the door and saw a figure sitting in front of a large drawing board studying a set of plans.
The man looked up. ‘Hello, Kay! This is a pleasant surprise.’
‘Edward!’ She was robbed of any further words.
He rose from the high stool and walked towards her, took her hand in his and chuckled at her look of consternation.
‘Alas, now you’ve found me out! How are you? Did you have an enjoyable Christmas?’
Recovering her equilibrium, she smiled at him. ‘I did, and thank you so much for the flowers, they were lovely.’
‘My pleasure. Is that the report I was expecting?’
‘Oh, oh yes!’ She’d forgotten about it in her surprise. She handed it over and turned to leave.
‘Wait!’ Edward stepped forward. ‘Don’t rush off before I’ve a chance to ask you out to dinner.’
She felt herself blushing.
‘Are you free one evening this week?’
‘I could be.’ She thought quickly. Susan was staying with her grandparents on Friday night. ‘How about Friday? It’s the only night I have free, I’m afraid.’
‘Splendid. Shall I pick you up around seven?’
She felt flustered but tried not to show it. ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’
‘Until then,’ he said, and he opened the door for her.
There was a spring in her step as she returned to her office. So no wonder Edward was treated with such respect. He held an office with great responsibility and power … and he’d asked her out! Life was looking up. She walked to her desk, humming softly.
Edward walked back to his desk and sat studying the report. He frowned and reread one particular page several times. Surely there was an error here? He picked up the phone and asked to be put through to Kay’s office and asked for her by name.
‘Mr Harrington on the line for you,’ she was told.
Picking up the receiver she answered, ‘Kay Baker speaking.’
‘Kay, are you sure that the report on the building materials on document three-nine-zero-zero-four is correct?’
She was thrown for a moment; this was not what she was expecting. ‘Yes, I am. Was there anything in particular that made you query it?’
‘Yes, page four. The list of building materials.’
‘I’ll double check and let you know,’ she said, and hung up. But when she went over her papers, she found no errors at all. Picking up the phone she relayed this to him.
‘Thank you, Kay. That’s all.’
Edward rang the intercom and asked his secretary to bring a particular file into him, and when she did so, he sat and studied the papers before him. When he finished, he left the office and drove to a building site to talk to the foreman.
The January sales were in full swing, and Tyrell and Greens was full of customers looking for a bargain. Connie and Betty were rushed off their feet most of the day. Once or twice she caught a glimpse of John Baker and thought he looked drawn and grey. She did wonder how he’d spent his Christmas away from his family and, knowing how he idolized his daughter, felt a pang of pity for him. But only for a moment; after all, he’d brought it on himself. She didn’t feel so guilty at being a part of his downfall, thinking had it not been her he was seeing, it would have been another woman, and she wondered how his wife was coping. She wouldn’t have felt so bad had she known.
It was Friday evening, and Kay was getting ready for her date with Edward, feeling as nervous as a teenager. Going to the office Christmas party alone and meeting Edward by chance was one thing, but tonight was different. It was their first proper date, and she was wondering how she would cope.
She smoothed down the neat black dress she’d decided to wear. Black was safe, and with a string of pearls, with earrings to match, she felt that no matter where they went, she would be suitably dressed. When the doorbell rang, she quickly patted her hair in place and went to open the door.
‘Hello,’ said Edward, handing her a small bunch of flowers.
‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘how lovely. Come in whilst I get my coat.’ Taking him into her sitting room, she left him for a moment.
Looking around the room, he walked over to a side table and picked up a photograph. There was Kay, a man and a litt
le girl, sitting on a beach beside several rather well-made sandcastles. He looked up as she returned.
‘Your daughter and husband?’
‘My daughter and soon to be ex-husband,’ she said. ‘Susan is four, nearly five.’ She placed the picture back on the table. ‘Ready?’
Edward drove her to the Southampton Yacht Club on the edge of town and walked her to the bar. ‘Would you like a sherry, before we eat?’ he asked.
They sat in comfortable settees whilst waiting for their table.
‘Did you sort the problem of the report I gave you?’ she asked, still concerned she may have been at fault in some way.
‘Yes, thanks, Kay, it’s nothing for you to worry about. Now tell me about Christmas.’
The evening went well. As before, she found Edward easy to talk to. They discussed many subjects, laughed a lot and were at ease with each other.
‘You know all about me,’ Kay said towards the end of dinner, ‘but I know little about you.’ Was he married, she wondered and hoped not. She so liked this man but certainly didn’t want to get mixed up with someone with a wife. She’d been there.
He laughed heartily. ‘Sadly, you have discovered what I do, so no longer can I be a man of mystery, which is such a pity. I rather enjoyed that. In case you’re wondering, I’m not married. There was someone once but it didn’t work out, which is probably for the best, and since then there hasn’t been anyone.’
‘I find that very hard to believe. You are a handsome man, sophisticated; don’t tell me that there haven’t been women who were interested in you?’
He seemed to find this amusing. ‘I’m delighted you think these things of me, Kay, my dear, and of course I’ve enjoyed female company. I’m no monk, you know!’ His eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘But there is no one of importance in my life – at the moment.’ His mouth twitched at the corners as he contained his mirth.
‘I do believe you’re flirting with me,’ she said.
‘Oh, but I am, make no mistake about that. Do you mind?’
She grinned broadly. ‘No! It’s been a long time since that happened to me, and I’m enjoying every moment.’
When he eventually drove her home, Kay invited him in for a coffee, but he declined.
