Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Abby Clements

  ‘What’s this?’ she asked, picking it up and running a finger over the dimpled skin. It wasn’t one she’d picked up from the market. She’d never seen one like it before.

  Aiden peered at it over her shoulder, and Zak slipped away into the hallway. ‘A breadfruit, I think.’

  ‘Oh,’ Rachel put it back down, ‘did you bring it from home?’

  ‘No,’ Aiden said, with a shrug. ‘It’s pretty exotic. You don’t get many of those in Skipley.’

  Zak’s shouts echoed off the walls as they walked down the bare white hospital corridors. It was 5 p.m., and Rachel was at the hospital for the second time that day. Milly caught up with her brother, her bronze ballerina pumps skidding a little on the white lino, and whispered to him to be quieter. To Zak, visiting Bea was all just a game, but Rachel could sense Aiden’s anxiety building. As they neared Bea’s ward Rachel took Aiden’s hand and held it in hers. He accepted her touch gratefully.

  As they pulled back the green curtain around Bea’s bed, for a moment no one, not even Zak, made a sound.

  ‘Well, hello,’ Bea said, breaking the silence, sitting up with a bright, cheery smile on her face. She registered Aiden’s reaction. ‘What were you expecting, me to be half-dead over here?’ She laughed, and put her Sudoku down on the side table. ‘Take more than a bit of wobbliness to beat me, you know.’ Rachel was relieved to see that Bea looked better than she had that morning.

  Aiden’s face relaxed. He leaned in towards his mother and landed a gentle kiss on her cheek. ‘Good to see you.’

  ‘And about time too,’ she teased, accepting with a smile the bright yellow roses he’d brought for her.

  Milly and Zak kissed their grandma hello and Aiden took a seat by the side of the bed. ‘So what’s the gossip, Mum?’

  Bea smiled. ‘Wish I had more to entertain you with,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘Only so much fun you can get up to in this place,’ she said, leaning forward. ‘Although there was a nice young girl who arrived yesterday. Chatty thing.’

  ‘And how are you feeling?’ Aiden asked.

  ‘Oh, still dreadful,’ Bea said, toying with her necklace. ‘I mean some days are better than others, but this morning I stood up and it was as if the floor came to meet me. Vertigo.’

  ‘Does Dr Patel know?’

  ‘Oh yes, I’ve told her. They’re all doing their best. They’ve done all sorts of tests on me, but no answers yet.’

  ‘Rachel said you had an MRI scan this morning?’ Aiden asked, concerned.

  ‘Oh, yes, but it was no bother at all,’ Bea said, with a wave of her hand. ‘You just lie down, don’t you? And they pop you in the tube.’

  ‘I’ve seen that on the TV,’ Milly said nonchalantly, fiddling with the plait in the front of her hair.

  ‘Well, there you go,’ Bea said to her son. ‘They do it all the time, Aiden, it doesn’t mean anything. So now we’re just waiting for the results – at my age you get awfully impatient, you know. I’ve told the doctor that my bridge club’s having Christmas drinks in a fortnight and there’s no way on earth I’ll be missing those.’

  Rachel and Aiden exchanged a knowing look and Aiden stifled a smile. Bea’s social life was absolutely non-negotiable.

  ‘So,’ Bea asked chattily, bringing her hands together and turning to her grandchildren, ‘what do you make of London so far?’

  ‘Amazing,’ Zak said, pushing his Lego spacecraft up and down the edges of her hospital bed. ‘We went out on bikes this morning, saw the Queen’s house.’

  ‘Buckingham Palace? Oh, that’s nice,’ Bea said, nodding. ‘Well, of course there’s no end of things to do here. There are the museums,’ Bea suggested. ‘The Science Museum, or the dinosaur one? The Natural History Museum? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Zak?’ she said, ruffling his hair.

  ‘Yes. Tom in my class brought me back a Stegosaurus hologram ruler when he went there.’

  Milly stayed quiet, scuffing the toe of her ballerina pump on the lino floor. Rachel went to put her arm around her, but Milly moved away.

  ‘They’ll go out to see things,’ Aiden said, taking off his jacket, his cheeks a little flushed from the dry warmth of the hospital-ward heating. ‘But, Mum, we’re here for you, not to have a holiday.’

  ‘Oh pff,’ Bea said. ‘You should be making the most of it. We’ll be back and busy with Christmas before you know it. There’s going to be so much to catch up on – we’ve only done the very first recipe in the book, haven’t we, Rachel?’

  Rachel held Bea’s hand gently in her own. ‘Now, about Christmas, Bea. You can put your feet up. Aiden and I have talked, and with you being ill and everything, we’d like to put it on this year.’

  ‘Oh no, I won’t have that,’ Bea said, sitting up in bed and shaking her head. Then she lifted a hand to her forehead, as if the sudden movement had caused her pain. For a moment she looked exposed, vulnerable.

  ‘No arguments,’ Aiden said firmly. He must have seen it too.

  Bea leaned back on her pillows. ‘Well, let’s see,’ she said. Her smile had faded away.

  Rachel turned at the sound of the curtain being pulled back, and saw Dr Patel stepping through. She gave a polite smile to Rachel and Aiden.

  ‘Mrs Murray,’ Dr Patel said, clutching her clipboard to her chest and turning to Bea. ‘I have the results of your MRI scan through. Would you like your family to stay with you while we discuss them?’

  ‘Milly,’ Bea said, sitting up straighter in bed. ‘Would you be a love and go down to the shop with Zak? I could really do with a new Sudoku book. Your mum and dad will meet you down there when we’re finished talking to the doctor.’ A flicker of worry passed over Milly’s face as she took a handful of change from Rachel and led her brother away.

  Dr Patel closed the curtain and opened Bea’s file. ‘As you know, we fast-tracked the results of your MRI scans and we now have more information.’

  Aiden shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. ‘And what – what have you found?’

  ‘The scans revealed a mass in the inner ear, close to the brain.’

  Bea’s usually calm brow was creased in worry. Rachel’s stomach felt tight – she wanted to rewind the last few minutes and start the conversation again.

  ‘A mass?’ Aiden said. ‘What does that mean? What kind of mass?’ His face had paled to near-white.

  The doctor continued.

  ‘The pressure of the mass on your brain has almost certainly been causing the symptoms you’ve been experiencing,’ Dr Patel said, glancing down at the paper on her clipboard and putting her reading glasses on to read it. ‘Dizziness, vertigo – it’s the reason you fainted on the ward the other day.’ Aiden looked alarmed, and Rachel felt the same way – it was the first they’d heard of it.

  ‘It’s also behind the slight tinnitus – the ringing sound.’

  Bea’s face was blank, and she remained silent.

  ‘Now, as you say, Mr Murray, it’s important to find out what the mass is,’ Dr Patel said, putting the papers down. ‘So that we can decide how to treat it.’

  Dr Patel took her reading glasses off. ‘The next step is to do a biopsy. Your case is a priority for us, and I’ve scheduled the test in for tomorrow.’

  ‘A biopsy?’ Aiden said, haltingly. Rachel put her hand on his leg, to reassure him. ‘Do you mean to say she might have …?’ The unspoken word hung between them.

  Rachel instinctively covered Bea’s hand with her own. Bea responded by holding it tightly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dr Patel said. ‘I know it’s not the news any of you will have been hoping to hear. Issues of this kind can be difficult to diagnose, so it’s good that you came here when you did.’

  ‘Thank you, Dr Patel,’ Rachel said, operating on autopilot. ‘You’ll keep us up to date, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ the doctor said. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as we have the biopsy results.’

  ‘So, who’s for seconds?’ Rachel asked, lifting the serving spoon, ready to dish up m
ore shepherd’s pie.

  Aiden stayed quiet, even though it was his favourite meal.

  ‘Me, please,’ Zak said, putting out his plate. Rachel spooned him out a fresh portion.

  ‘Milly?’ Rachel asked, then spotted that her daughter was texting under the table. ‘You know the rule about phones at the table,’ she said, firmly. Milly looked up from under heavily mascaraed lashes, and gave her mum a despairing look. ‘Seriously, Mum, just one text?’

  Rachel raised an eyebrow disapprovingly and Milly put her phone on the kitchen counter behind her with a sigh.

  ‘You and Kate have only been apart for a few days,’ Rachel said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘What can there be to catch up on?’

  ‘Everything.’ Milly replied, brushing her dark-red fringe out of her eyes and slumping back in her seat.

  Milly’s answer reminded her of her own teenage days. When Rachel was Milly’s age, she and Laurie used to spend all evening on the phone to each other, even though they’d spent most of the day at the same desk at school. And Milly was right – back then it had seemed like there was everything to catch up on. In those phone conversations, with Rachel stretching the cord of her hamburger phone between her fingers, they’d had so much to talk about. Which posters from Just Seventeen they’d Blu-tacked on to their walls, which boys they’d spoken to at school. And when it came to boys, for Rachel it had always been Aiden. Every time he’d looked over at her, asked to borrow her calculator, each word he spoke to her in the lunch queue – she’d dissected every single detail with Laurie.

  Getting through to Milly when she was in a mood was near-impossible. The girl sitting opposite Rachel at the dinner table now, chin jutting out and a sulky expression on her face, was like a stranger to her.

  ‘Come on, Milly,’ Aiden said, stepping in. ‘You know that the rules are the same here as they are at home.’

  ‘Can I get down from the table then?’ Milly asked, putting her cutlery together on her plate.

  Zak wriggled in his seat, picking up on the tense atmosphere. ‘If Milly’s getting down, can I play my DS now?’ Zak asked, ignoring the food on his plate and moving his chair back with a screech.

  ‘Oh, go on then,’ Rachel said, giving in. With Aiden near-silent and the kids itching to get away, this wasn’t quite the reunion dinner she’d been hoping for.

  Milly left the kitchen and Rachel heard the door to her room close.

  Aiden cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher, distractedly.

  ‘Aiden,’ Rachel said. ‘Do you think Milly’s OK? She’s still acting strange, more so since we got here, distant. Don’t you think?’

  ‘She seems fine to me, Rach. She’s just being a teenager – don’t worry about it.’

  ‘No,’ Rachel said, getting up and taking the glasses over to the dishwasher. ‘I’m sure there’s something up. I think maybe it’s hard for her being away from her friends? Or she’s worried about Bea? Can you try and talk to her? She’s shutting me out.’

  ‘Rachel,’ Aiden said, closing the dishwasher and fiddling with the knob to find the correct setting. ‘Can you try and relax? I’m sorry, but I’ve got other things on my mind right now.’

  ‘You’re right, sorry. But maybe we could take them out somewhere special. I was reading in Time Out about a Reindeer Wonderland event in Hyde Park. There’s an ice rink, reindeers, that sort of stuff. We could have a family trip—’

  ‘Rachel,’ Aiden said, frowning. ‘You know I have to finish the Westley barn, overseeing that from here is going to be a full-time job – and then there’s Mum. I mean, who knows what’s going on there.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rachel said, going into survival mode. ‘Well, let’s try to stay positive. I’m sure Bea will be fine, and we’ll still find a way to do Christmas.’ She touched Aiden’s arm lightly. ‘Even if—’

  ‘Rachel,’ Aiden shook his head, exasperated, and raised his voice slightly. ‘Don’t you get it?’

  Rachel’s words hung in the air, sounding ridiculous to her now. She’d just been trying to make things better, but somehow she’d managed to make them worse.

  ‘Didn’t you hear what the doctor was saying? Mum could have cancer, Rachel. This isn’t about whether we get home for Christmas any more.’

  Rachel’s eyes filled with tears at the shock of Aiden’s words. His usually gentle voice was brittle with stress and frustration.

  He sat down at the table, his head in his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Rachel. It’s not your fault, of course it’s not. It’s just – I’m scared. I’m really scared that we might lose Mum.’

  From: Millypede@gmail.com

  To: LaurieGreenaway@virgin.net

  Hi Laurie,

  Is it OK if I ask you something? I don’t know who else to talk to, Kate doesn’t know any more about boys than I do, and I’m definitely not going to ask Mum, she’s on my back all the time at the moment.

  There’s a guy I’ve been chatting to. I haven’t known him long, but we’ve been messaging each other. He’s sent me a couple of playlists to listen to, and I’ve sent him some photos of me, a video of us messing about on bikes in London. He liked that. When we talk he makes me feel good, like I haven’t really since I moved school. It’s weird because before I met him, I thought I liked someone else, a boy in the year above at my new school. But I don’t know if he was ever interested, probably not.

  Anyway, I’ve only met this guy once, but we really clicked, we talked all evening. I can’t stop thinking about him. He wants to see me again when I get back to Skipley, but I don’t know how Mum and Dad will feel about it – I’ve never had a boyfriend before.

  Anyway, do you think I should go for it? Hope you can give me some advice!

  Love

  Milly xxx

  CHAPTER 11

  Friday 1st December

  ‘Mocca-cin-o,’ Laurie said to the teenage boy serving her in the café on Skipley High Street. He raised an eyebrow and glanced behind him at what they had on the shelves. At a gangly six foot, his eyes were nearly level with the highest one.

  ‘We’ve got instant,’ he said, pointing at a jar of Nescafé on the shelf that was mostly laden with boxes of Yorkshire Tea. His hair was short and mousy, and Laurie noticed the beginnings of some sideburns. ‘Or, hang on, mocha, that’s got chocolate in it, right?’ He tilted his head, thinking, ‘I could do you a hot chocolate too, mix them up – would that do you?’

  ‘You’re serious …’ Laurie said, despairing, putting her leather handbag down on the counter and looking the guy behind the counter in the eye to make sure. ‘Oh, God help me,’ she said under her breath, wondering what she’d done wrong in a former life to end up here. ‘An instant coffee if that’s what you’ve got.’

  It was Saturday morning, 9.30 a.m. Laurie hadn’t been able to sleep, a thunderstorm rattling at the windows all night, and she’d decided to get up rather than trying to nod off again. She’d been in Skipley two full days now, but with the nonstop rain she’d hardly left the cottage, holing up on the sofa with magazines and books. She’d been going out of her mind with boredom, but with the help of Rachel’s manual had worked out how to use the Aga and light a fire. Today the storm clouds had finally cleared, and while it was still mostly grey, the rain had stopped.

  Walking out of the cottage bleary-eyed that morning, she’d quickly realised just how unsuitable all the clothes she’d brought with her were – Skipley was bitterly cold. She had her fitted scarlet wool coat, but nothing else warm at all. Before she even reached the end of the path, she’d turned around, ducked back inside the house and raided Rachel and Aiden’s coat cupboard. She found some Hunter wellies in her size which she had slipped on gratefully, and a thick white scarf. Nearly there – then she spotted some fake fur earmuffs, they were actually quite cool, probably Milly’s, she thought. She donned them and checked the overall effect in the living-room mirror. For one day only, style would come second to comfort.

  Dunn’s Café was the first place on the hig
h street she’d found open. It was the kind of café she would never have dreamed of going into back in London–formica tables with tea stains on, a frying-heavy breakfast menu, and not a whiff of vintage furniture or any cupcakes. But it looked warm, she thought. It would do.

  Now, as she waited for whatever drink of questionable quality was being prepared, she wondered if it had been a mistake to compromise her usual standards. She took out her mobile and checked it, but she didn’t have any reception. Slowly, slowly, she tilted her chair back until her head was nearly touching the window. She held her phone up towards the window until she thought she glimpsed a bar of reception appear. ‘YES,’ she hissed.

  ‘You all right there?’ the boy said, putting her mug of coffee down on the table. His words brought her crashing back to the ground with a jolt. As her chair legs made contact with the floor again her coffee splashed out across the table.

  ‘Absolutely fine,’ Laurie said, putting her phone down on a dry patch. She could see him struggling to hide a smile.

  ‘You’re new around here, aren’t you?’ he asked. Laurie didn’t respond. She hoped it would be perfectly obvious she wasn’t a local – if Diana was anything to go by, she certainly didn’t want to be mistaken for one. ‘Well, I’m Ben.’

  ‘Laurie,’ she replied coolly.

  Ben was still standing by the table. Oh no. Did he want a chat? She took a copy of the Skipley Post from the rack to her left to make it clear that she had no wish for any further conversation. As he lingered, she pretended to look very focused on the front page. She scanned the headlines – a local rescue racehorse had won a charity race.

  ‘We don’t get that many visitors, you see,’ he said.

  Still on the front page – some old pots had been found in a recent visit by Time Team. She rifled through the rest. Didn’t they have any proper news around here?

  ‘I mean in Skipley, we do – tourists in the summer. Americans and that. But not here, in the café.’ Laurie tried to shut out Ben’s voice.