On Christmas Day

by Rosie James

  Reynard pursed his lips. It was just a pity that the girl was refusing to part with the café as well, because it occupied a valuable space which could have been incorporated into the whole. Still, that could yet become his if the girl’s attempt at running the café failed. Though, if he was honest, he didn’t feel that was very likely …

  Lexi made her way home as quickly as she could, seething at Mr McCann’s attitude. He’d obviously thought that she was going to just hand over everything Mr Bakewell had left her. He’d tried to force the issue by suggesting that she owed him a favour, but Lexi had been warned by Mr Mayland not to discuss the matter with anyone else beforehand, until officialdom took over. But what had made her really furious was that Reynard had said that he didn’t think she had the ability to run Bert’s Place! Lexi quickened her step. She’d show high and mighty Reynard McCann she could take over from Mr Bakewell!

  But despite that, Lexi tried not to think too badly of Johnny’s dad because – well, just because he was Johnny’s dad …

  Lexi’s lips automatically broke into a smile as she thought of Johnny. They had enjoyed such a lovely Easter holiday together last month, all of them – mainly because of Alfred being home and alive and well. But also, of course, because of Lexi’s inheritance. Every time she and Johnny had managed to be together he couldn’t stop asking her about it and what had taken place at the solicitor’s office. And how he wished he’d been a fly on the wall – or at least there to hold her hand and help her keep calm under such exciting circumstances.

  That short Easter holiday had passed by in a flash with so much to talk and think about, and one evening Johnny had called at the cottage hoping that Lexi was free to come out for a walk. Cecilia and the children were down at No.3, so the two had been alone for half an hour in the sitting room.

  ‘I wish I wasn’t going back in a couple of days,’ Johnny had said, looking down at Lexi who was sitting on the floor at his feet. ‘I just want to be home … with you, and with everyone.’ He had paused thoughtfully. ‘To see Alfred again, when we’d all thought he’d been killed, made me realize how much he had always meant to me, even though we’ve never really got on well together.’

  Lexi had rested her head on Johnny’s knees. ‘You were just typical brothers,’ she’d murmured, ‘you never meant each other any harm.’

  ‘Have you noticed how subdued Alfred is?’ Johnny had said suddenly. ‘He has said very little about his experience in France but it seems to have turned him into a kind of saint. He’s showing real interest in what Dad does, going out on site with him most afternoons – but Anna won’t let Alfred get up early in the mornings. And she insists on giving him breakfast in bed.’

  Lexi had nodded. ‘Mama commented that she could see a real change in Alfred, and how quiet he has become. Anyway,’ Lexi had gone on –‘he hasn’t tried to flirt with me once, not that I’ve seen him that much.’

  ‘He’d better not try and flirt with you,’ Johnny had said, ‘nor had anybody else! You are mine, so don’t forget it!’ He bent to kiss her gently. ‘You do realize, Miss Martin, - owner of the best café in Bath – you are now going to be so wealthy that I shall never have to work to support you when we are married. I shall just sit with my feet up all day and think about writing articles and stories and long, amazing books …’

  ‘Oh, don’t count on anything, Johnny McCann,’ Lexi had said. ‘Because I shall be spending the rest of my money to buy Mama a house, so don’t think you have a life of luxury ahead of you!’ She had lifted her face for Johnny to kiss her again, trying to quell the anxiety which never left her thoughts for long. And as if reading her mind, Johnny had said –

  ‘Has Mrs Martin ever mentioned the discussion I had with her on your birthday, Lexi? When I told her that we both wished to be married one day?’

  ‘No, not a word,’ Lexi had said slowly. ‘She has erased all that from her mind, forgotten it. In fact, to her it never even took place.’

  Johnny had growled under his breath. ‘Well, it did take place, I assure you,’ he’d said, ‘and it’s going to take place again, and again if necessary. That’s the McCann tradition. We never give up.’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It was a warm day in early July when Cecilia Martin had one of the biggest shocks in her life. And it came in the form of a husband she barely recognized.

  Lexi, taking the dog with her, had gone down to the café – the keys of which she’d been given yesterday – and the children were at school, when Cecilia heard two timid knocks on the back door, and putting down her mending she got up to answer.

  ‘Albert!’

  ‘Albert?’ But of course it was Albert, and at once he stumbled towards her, dropped his holdall on the floor, and put his arms right around Cecilia’s waist, and dropped his head into her neck.

  Then, in complete silence, they moved together into the sitting room.

  ‘Albert … what on earth has happened to you?’ Cecilia whispered, ‘Sit yourself down and tell me …’

  He spoke for the first time. ‘Sorry to … to upset you, Cissy,’ he said. ‘I realize me turning up like this has come as a bit of a surprise but I didn’t want to write, I just wanted to see you, to explain’

  ‘Well, you can do that in a minute when I’ve put the kettle on to make you a cup of tea,’ Cecilia said firmly, turning to go back into the kitchen. A surprise, did he say? A shock, more like! Because her husband had lost a great deal of weight, and was looking ill. And Albert had never been ill in his life – to her knowledge. What had been going on in the many, many months since he’d last been home?

  Finally, as they sat opposite each other, Albert said – ‘Sorry I’ve been away so long this time, Cissy, but things happened which were out of my control.’

  Cecilia listened patiently, almost transfixed by the change in her husband. His clothes seemed to hang from him in folds, and his normally robust and cheerful features were drawn and haggard. He looked like a very much older brother might have looked.

  He spoke again. ‘Things in Ireland were going a treat,’ he said, ‘and our cottage – the one I was building for us – I had the footings down, drainage nearly sorted, and me and my brothers had ordered a load of bricks …’ Albert paused to drink from his cup. ‘Then, one day, I was digging a trench and the fork went right through my boot and punctured my foot, Cissy. And they were good boots, those,’ he added.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Cecilia said.

  ‘Anyway, I didn’t think much about it,’ Albert went on, ‘even though I was in quite a lot of pain. I didn’t bother to take my boot off for a few days, thought it best not to.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Eventually, one of my sisters made me go to the doctor – and that’s when the trouble really started, Cissy. I was sent off to hospital where I was diagnosed with sepsis … do you know what that is? I’d never even heard of it before – but that’s what they said I had, and I nearly died, so they told me afterwards. Apparently I was in a coma for days and days and they said I was lucky not to lose my leg. Or my life,’ he added.

  Cecilia leaned across to clutch Albert’s hand. She may not enjoy her husband’s presence very often, but to think he might have died was too awful, just too awful.

  ‘Albert,’ she said softly. ‘My poor Albert. And … what have the doctors said? Are you quite better now?’

  ‘Well, the drugs they gave me have cleared the infection,’ Albert said, ‘but I don’t feel all that jolly, Cissy, and what I wanted to do was to get well enough to come home to you. You and the babbies.’

  Cecilia’s eyes softened at his words. ‘You are here now,’ she said gently. ‘And what about the cottage? When will you go back to finish it?’

  Albert shook his head sadly. ‘Oh I’m not going back, Cissy, I’m afraid that’s all over, because my brother, the one who bought the land for us – or thought he’d bought it – was taken for a real ride. The bloke who’d said the land was his turned out to be a liar. The papers he showed us were fake, Cissy, fake, and
he disappeared with our money and we only found out the truth when the real owner turned up and asked us what the devil we thought we were doing to his property! Can you believe that, Cissy?’

  Oh yes, Cecilia thought, I can believe it. ‘So – what now, Albert?’

  ‘One thing I know for sure,’ Albert said, ‘is that I’m not risking my money in Ireland again – even though it had had such a good beginning.’ He looked at Cecilia ruefully. ‘I’m sorry about the cottage, because I’d love to have taken you all to Ireland, but now I’ll just be back here and run my business, you know, like I always did. I’ll soon pick myself up and get going in England again. We’ve always managed, haven’t we Cissy?’

  ‘Of course we managed, Albert,’ Cecilia said smiling. Her husband was just a little boy, really, a little boy with dreams. He always had been and nothing would change him.

  But first, she was going to build up his strength with love and care and good food and she was going to enjoy doing that. It was what she did best. And perhaps they could be a proper family again for a while.

  If she was lucky.

  When Lexi got home she heard voices in the sitting room – and recognized at once who was speaking to her mother. Dada! Bursting inside to greet him, she stopped. What had happened to Dada?

  Albert immediately got to his feet and came over to hold Lexi in his arms. ‘My lovely, clever Lexi,’ he murmured against her ear, ‘I have been longing to see you …’

  ‘But Dada … what has happened?’ Lexi said, holding herself away from him for a moment. ‘Are you poorly, Dada?’

  Seeing the colour drain from Lexi’s shocked face, Cecilia broke in. ‘It’s all right, Lexi,’ she said quietly. ‘Dada has been suffering from a poisoned foot, that’s all, but he’s a lot better and now he’s going to be home with us for a while so that we can get him really well again.’

  Just then the dog scampered in from the kitchen where she’d stopped to lap at her water bowl, and Albert crouched right down to make a fuss of her.

  ‘This little creature looks slightly better than when I first brought her home, now doesn’t she?’ Albert said, and Lexi broke in.

  ‘Dada, we’ve got so much to tell you,’ she said, ‘and you’re not going to believe it! You really aren’t!’

  ‘I think we’ll give Dada time to relax, perhaps have a little nap, before we start bombarding him with all our news, Lexi,’ Cecilia said, standing up. ‘Phoebe and Joe will be home any minute and we’ve still got to prepare the tea, haven’t we?’ She glanced at Albert. ‘Why don’t you go upstairs for a little sleep, Albert? You look as if you could do with it, then Lexi and I can see to the food.’ She smiled. ‘You must have known that the meal is your favourite … soused herrings, and brown bread and butter … and Lexi made a lovely Victoria sponge this morning. You like sponges, don’t you.’

  Albert brushed away a tear. ‘I like everything, Cissy, you know me,’ he said. ‘And … you’re right, I would love a bit of a lie down, just for ten minutes.’ He went over and gathered Cecilia and Lexi into his arms. ‘It is so … so … lovely to be home, so it is,’ he said quietly.

  They had to rouse Albert from such a deep sleep that it was difficult to get him up for his tea – even though Phoebe and Joe had taken up position outside the bedroom door as soon as they knew who had arrived.

  But eventually, he woke up and came down with the two children hanging on to him, and straightaway he took them into the kitchen where he’d left his bag.

  ‘There you are,’ he said, ‘have a look inside and see what I’ve brought you.’

  That kept Phoebe and Joe quiet while for a while, and soon the family of five were sitting around the table. But before she began to eat, Cecilia said, looking over at Albert –

  ‘You had gone away, Albert, before Alfred McCann volunteered to serve in the war. Nor would you have known that he had been posted missing, presumed dead,’ she added.

  Albert sat back, clearly horrified. ‘Mother of God, no,’ he said quietly.

  ‘But his guardian angel must have been with him,’ Cecilia said, ‘because he somehow survived active service and is home again – though with one or two quite serious health problems – unsurprisingly.’

  Albert shook his head slowly. ‘This terrible war … which we saw nothing of down south in Ireland - but – how has it been affecting you at home?’

  Cecilia shrugged. ‘We’ve been all right, Albert … of course food shortages are now commonplace – and so are the high prices because most things have gone up. But as you can see, we are not starving.’ She sighed briefly. ‘Apparently we are now to put up with the rationing of coal and gas, and they are talking about us cooking our meals in a hay box, Albert. It seems we have to heat the food first, then put the dish right inside the box of hay. Cover it up like a broody hen waiting for her chicks to hatch. It takes hours and hours to cook, but at least it won’t be using any fuel.’ Cecilia paused. ‘I haven’t even found a box yet, nor any hay,’ she added.

  ‘Oh, I’ll find us a box, Cissy!’ Albert said at once, ‘Just leave that to me! And I know where to get plenty of hay. The local farms I worked at will let me have some.’

  By this time, Lexi was almost frantic to tell her father her great news. ‘Dada,’ she began, ‘You will never, never, never guess what has happened for me!’

  ‘I know - your singing career!’ Albert said. ‘They’ve asked you to go on the wireless! I knew you were special, Lexi – didn’t I always say it, so I did!’

  ‘No – Dada – it’s not that! It’s even more exciting than that!’

  Then Lexi explained everything in great detail. ‘So you see, Dada, I now own Bert’s Place … it’s mine! And I am going to run it just like Mr Bakewell did! Mama is going to help, and Anna at Grey Gables is, and even Phoebe has said she will do some washing up sometimes! Of course, the place has been closed for six months,’ Lexi went on breathlessly. ‘So we’ve some cleaning up and sorting out to do. And when I was down there this afternoon I thought I would like new shelving, and a new counter. And maybe new tables and chairs for outside … or perhaps paint the ones there, because they are quite old.’

  Albert banged his fist on the table. ‘This is all like a miracle, a miracle,’ he said, ‘because now I am here, I can do a lot of what you want Lexi! I can fix shelving, and do any painting needed. This is going to be a family affair! So praise be to all the saints! And praise be to the old gentleman, Mr Bakewell. A good man, a very good kind man.’

  Lexi was so excited she could hardly eat a thing before going on. ‘Of course, the playing field at the back is mine as well, but that’s going to be sold. Several buyers have already made an offer – even Mr McCann wants it, he told me so himself. But the financial advisers are seeing to that. Anyway, I’ve got enough money to be going on with because Mr Bakewell left me everything in his bank account as well. He left me absolutely everything, Dada. I think it was because he knew I could be trusted to take care of his café. So – I would like to open at the middle of August while there’s still some summer weather ahead. That gives us about five weeks.’ Lexi took a long, deep breath. ‘And Johnny will be home at the end of this month. I know he will want to be there with us as well.’

  ‘Ah yes, young Johnny McCann,’ Albert said, ‘a lovely lad … he must be very, very relieved that his brother has survived.’

  ‘As we all are,’ Cecilia said.

  Lexi clapped her hands, nearly spilling her tea. ‘Do you know, I am so happy,’ she said, ‘I have been left a business of my very own – and my dearest Dada is here, too! I think I’m going to be sick!’

  ‘No you are not,’ Cecilia said, smiling, ‘you are going to make us another pot of tea Lexi Martin.’

  Albert sat back, shaking his head in quiet amazement at all he had been hearing. ‘But what about your Pump Room singing?’ he said, ‘how can you fit everything in, Lexi? Even you can’t be in half a dozen places at once.’

  Lexi stood up to go into the kitchen with t
he teapot. ‘Oh, I have given the management notice,’ she said. ‘My last performance is to be at the end of next week. And they quite understood my present circumstances, that I am going to be too busy to sing.’ She giggled. You see, everyone knows who’s in charge of Bert’s Place now! But the name will never change. That café will always be known as “Bert’s Place” – and I’m sure that I shall sometimes feel Mr Bakewell is there alongside me. He will never be far away. I know he won’t.’

  Chapter Thirty

  It was almost the end of July before Lexi was summoned, once again, to the solicitor’s office. And as she made her way down the town, she hoped this meeting wouldn’t take too long because she was desperate to be back at the café where there was still so much to do.

  Lexi smiled to herself as she hurried along. After Cecilia had insisted on Albert having a week’s complete rest, he had gone down to the café with Lexi each day, and together they’d been scrubbing and cleaning and making all sorts of plans, moving things around a bit, and talking of changing what had been Mr Bakewell’s private accommodation into a quite spacious room for more tables when it was too cold to sit outside. The small area behind the counter which Mr. Bakewell had used for that purpose was not really big enough. It was all beginning to come together, and Albert was revelling in the heightened atmosphere.

  Now, Lexi was ushered into Mr Mayland’s office, and he stood to greet her, offering her a chair to sit down.

  ‘I am sure you will be pleased to know, Miss Martin,’ he said, ‘that matters concerning the sale of the field, the territory behind your café, have finally been completed.’

  Lexi smiled across. ‘That is good news, Mr Mayland,’ she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Even better news is what the purchaser offered for it, and has paid, in full. The money was transferred to your bank last night.’ The solicitor slid a sheet of paper across the desk for Lexi to examine and Lexi tried not to gasp at the sum she saw printed there.