I'll Be Home for Christmas: A heartwarming feel good romantic comedy

by Karen Clarke

‘Hey, Chuckster,’ I said, doing a hip-shaking dance to his bedside to make him smile, overcome at the sight of his lovely, friendly face – the face that had been present during some of the best bits of my childhood. ‘Nice threads.’

  ‘You’ll never be a salsa champion.’ He’d put down the magazine, breaking into a smile. ‘And you’re just jealous because you’re not wearing something that shows your bare bum when you get up to go to the loo.’

  ‘How do you know I’m not?’ I glanced round at my bottom and gasped. ‘Oops!’

  ‘I don’t like this conversation.’

  ‘Me neither.’ I stifled a giggle as the man in the next bed strained to look at my behind.

  I wanted to hug Charlie, but we’d never been the type, so I gently punched his upper arm instead. ‘How’s your throat?’

  ‘I’m on antibiotics and heavy painkillers so can’t feel any part of my body at the moment.’

  ‘And your ankle?’

  ‘I’ll let you know when the painkillers wear off, but it’s fairly swollen this morning. I might need a crutch for a bit.’

  ‘You gave me such a shock,’ I said, removing my coat and pulling up a chair. ‘Lying around like that, looking dead.’

  ‘Sorry about that.’ He stuck out his bottom lip. ‘I was lying on the bathroom floor, planning what to wear to Margot’s book launch, and woke up in here.’

  I punched his arm again, less gently. ‘You could had died, you idiot.’

  He grabbed my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. ‘Mum said you found me,’ he said. ‘Thanks, Nina.’

  I was on the cusp of tears again. ‘It was actually Delphine,’ I said, blinking madly. ‘I hadn’t realised there was an en suite, but she was just standing outside the door.’

  He lowered his head to his chin and moved it slowly from side to side.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It was the bloody cat that nearly killed me,’ he said, meeting my gaze with a look of mild outrage.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I still felt really, really rough when I got up yesterday morning, so I thought I’d have a shower and go back to bed, but I heard a noise.’

  ‘Delphine?’

  He nodded, then winced. ‘I need to stop moving my head.’

  ‘She was in the other bathroom?’

  He shook his head and winced again. ‘She was actually outside, sort of tapping on the window with her claws,’ he said. ‘She’d climbed up on the roof and got stuck, so I stood on the bath to open the window to let her in, and she kind of slithered past – you know how fast she moves – and—’

  ‘You slipped and fell and bashed your head,’ I finished. Now my head was swinging from side to side. ‘I knew that cat was evil.’

  ‘Well, at least she hung around to let you know where I was.’

  ‘It was the least she could do,’ I said grimly. ‘You must have knocked the shower gel off as you fell.’

  He nodded. ‘There was a bottle on the side of the bath.’ A frown settled on his forehead. ‘I kept half waking up and realised I couldn’t swallow properly, and thought I smelt limes, and it was really cold, and I started having weird dreams and couldn’t move my ankle – God it hurt – and it was really, really cold, but I was kind of boiling hot as well.’

  He paused, looking so comically helpless a giggle escaped. ‘I expect when the pain kicks back in, you’ll start feeling angry.’

  ‘Probably,’ he agreed. ‘Elle will run a mile when she sees what I’m like.’ But even as he said it, I could tell he didn’t believe it.

  ‘Your mum’s been really worried,’ I said. ‘She sent these, in case they’re not feeding you properly.’ I pulled the bag of mince pies she’d given me from my coat pocket. ‘I had some flowers too, but apparently they’re not allowed.’

  ‘They’d only make me sneeze,’ he said, with his old Charlie grin. ‘And I’m not sure I can eat mince pies just yet.’ He pointed to his throat.

  ‘Oh, yes. Sorry,’ I said with a wince. ‘What were you reading?’

  ‘An old edition of Expats.’ He picked it up. ‘Funnily enough, it was one of Natalie’s old columns, about healthcare in France, before she started being herself and writing funny stuff.’ He picked it up and read in a monotone:

  After being admitted to a French hospital, you will need to show proof of your health insurance card (carte vitale), and you may be asked to show a notice certifying you are entitled to public healthcare (attestation). You should bring proof of private health insurance if applicable, your CMU-Complémentaire or CMU-C.

  I pretended to jerk awake. ‘I must admit, it wouldn’t make a good book,’ I said. ‘Talking of which,’ my heart did a leap, ‘have you heard from Ryan?’

  ‘We’ve exchanged a few messages.’ He nodded to his phone on his locker. ‘It was in my jeans pocket and it’s nearly out of signal, but I got a message from Elle too. She’ll be here shortly.’

  ‘That’s brilliant,’ I said, and ate half a mince pie. ‘About Ryan—’

  ‘It’s great, isn’t it?’ he interrupted, shuffling further up in the bed. ‘It was a bit underhand of me, but you know I did it for the right reasons, don’t you?’ A plea for understanding shone from his eyes. ‘And it worked, so you have to let me off the hook.’

  I lowered my hand, crumbs scattering across my jeans. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I hated not saying anything, but I thought the element of surprise would be best, so Ryan wasn’t on his guard.’ His fingers pleated the sheet. ‘I’d never have agreed to pick Nicole up from the airport, or let her into the apartment, if I didn’t think it would work.’

  ‘You let her in?’

  ‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘I hate being sneaky like that, asking Marie for the spare key to Natalie’s so I could spend the night there, but I knew you’d all need some space to let things sink in.’

  ‘You planned that whole visit with Nicole?’ I sat back in disbelief. ‘She never said a word.’

  ‘She’s actually quite nice, when she’s not being clingy and demanding,’ he said to my sheer disbelief. ‘And it worked, didn’t it?’

  There was a look on his face I couldn’t decode, and I didn’t bother trying as anger and disappointment rolled through me. Charlie had engineered that whole scene with Nicole at the apartment, and then stayed at Natalie’s to let it all play out.

  ‘You know your mum had arranged for Ryan and me to be alone to “get to know each other”?’ I said. ‘Nicole walked in on us… on the sofa.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Charlie closed his eyes. ‘That must have been a bit awkward.’ He looked at me, and I could have sworn there was a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. ‘I didn’t think things would progress that far, in spite of Mum’s… well, you know what Mum’s like.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Look, Nina, I thought you’d want to know what was happening because I could see you were starting to have feelings for Ryan, in spite of everything you said when you got here.’ He was smiling hopefully, and I didn’t have the heart to vent my true feelings – to tell him how much it hurt; that even if he thought he’d done the right thing and saved me from future heartbreak by exposing Ryan’s true feelings, knowing what I’d gone through with Scott, I hated that he was the one to have done it.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Sensing my mood change he tried to sit forward and flinched. ‘Shit, Nina. Did I get it all wrong?’

  ‘No, no, it’s fine.’ I wished my voice hadn’t trembled. ‘I must admit though, it was a surprise to find out he’s not Lulu and Jackson’s dad.’

  He made a baffled face. ‘No one said he was.’

  ‘No, but I… oh, it doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘Charlie, did you ever hear Augustine talk about someone called William?

  ‘What?’ He waggled his head, as if clearing it of debris. ‘Why are you asking about Great-gran?’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t move around like that, you’ll hurt your ankle and I’ll have to get the nurse. Talking of which…’ I looked around, hoping for an exc
use to escape. ‘Isn’t it time for your bed bath?’

  ‘I don’t think they do that sort of thing any more.’ He sank down, a little paler than before. ‘I’m just waiting to be released.’

  ‘You’re not in prison, Chuck.’ It was an effort to regain my bantering tone, and I was flooded with relief when I saw someone approaching at speed, blonde hair lifting from a heart-shaped face, a luggage bag over her shoulder, her royal blue coat flapping open to reveal the sort of comfy outfit celebrities advised wearing on flights – the sort I’d live in, if I could get away with it. ‘I think your girlfriend’s here.’

  But Charlie had seen her, and was wearing a look akin to the one I’d seen the first time he held a newborn lamb (after getting over the shock of seeing it born) only better, and I knew that they were going to be together for life.

  Twenty-Eight

  Once they’d finished kissing and Charlie reassured Elle he was going to be OK, and once she’d apologised for taking so long to arrive, and he’d introduced us, and I’d fully explained what had happened and admired Elle’s loungewear (‘Oh God, it’s so comfy,’ she said, and I knew we’d get along), the doctor appeared and declared Charlie fit to go home after lunch. He would need to complete a course of antibiotics, keep taking painkillers for his ankle and generally take it easy for a while.

  ‘I’ll call Dolly and let her know,’ I told him, burying my brief surge of resentment as I impulsively pressed a kiss on his messy hair (which still smelt strongly of limes). This was Charlie, my favourite cousin, and he’d done me a massive favour where Ryan was concerned – even if it didn’t quite feel that way just yet.

  ‘See you back at the ranch,’ I said, dropping crumbs on the floor as I stuffed the bag of crushed mince pies in my coat pocket and pushed my arms in the sleeves. ‘Nice to meet you, Elle.’

  ‘You too.’ She gave me a dazzling smile, before returning her anxious but loving gaze to Charlie. ‘See you soon.’

  I broke the good news to Dolly over the phone, and when she said she’d get his room ready before driving over to pick him up, I felt a twist inside, knowing that Ryan wouldn’t be sleeping in there any more.

  I was even less inclined to talk on the taxi ride back to Chamillon, but this time the driver was friendly, and wanted to discuss the vagaries of the English language.

  ‘Why do you say, I broke my arm, as if you are blaming it on yourself? You should say, my arm got broken in the motor accident.’

  ‘I really don’t know,’ I said, hoping he wasn’t familiar with motor accidents as I leaned my head against the window, longing to be back at the café.

  ‘And, when you ask, “are you sure you don’t want to have cake?”, do I reply “yes” because I am sure, or “no, I do not want to have cake”?’

  ‘Who doesn’t want to have cake?’ My brain was too frazzled to figure it out.

  He laughed appreciatively. ‘I do love the wit of the British,’ he said and continued driving in silence, punctuated by the occasional chuckle.

  It was business as usual back at the café, where a mother-and-toddler group was in full, noisy swing. Holly was sharing a gingerbread reindeer with Hamish, while Jacqueline helped Gérard with his crossword, and I wondered why I hadn’t realised they were related on my first day, when Holly had made a fuss of the dog and compared her grandfather to Santa Claus.

  ‘Margot came in for her usual, but she’s writing from home today since you sorted out her room,’ said Dolly, seeing me glance at the table where Margot had done her book-signing the night before. ‘I looked in upstairs earlier and hardly recognised my living room.’

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry.’ I hid my face behind my hands. ‘I just thought I’d—’

  ‘Tidy up a bit, I know.’ I peeped out to see Dolly beaming. ‘It looks amazing,’ she said. ‘I love it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. And I’ve had a couple of customers ask if you can do theirs after Christmas.’ She untied her apron as I followed her into the kitchen. ‘Dee’s been spreading the word, apparently. Like I said, if you want to stay a bit longer, you’ll have plenty to do.’

  ‘I don’t want to outstay my welcome,’ I said. ‘You must be fed up with me.’

  ‘Never,’ she said and I smiled. I didn’t want to think about leaving just yet.

  ‘I’ve changed Charlie’s bedding, and just need to run a cloth round the bathroom and then I’ll get over to the hospital,’ Dolly continued. ‘Frank’s going to hold the fort here.’

  ‘I’ll sort out the bathroom,’ I said. ‘You must be shattered.’

  ‘Oh, I’m on top of the world!’ She seized Celeste as she came through from the café and danced her round the kitchen, and the action seemed to sum up perfectly how Dolly always grabbed the good things in life and ran with them.

  It was quiet upstairs, everything as I’d left it, and although the pillows in Charlie’s room looked freshly plumped, it didn’t look that much different to when Ryan had slept in there. He’d gone without leaving a trace.

  My phone buzzed with a message.

  Mum and Dad took off at 10 this morning.

  On an aeroplane?

  Ho, ho, ho. They’ll be with you just after 2. You’d better look surprised.

  I’ll start practising.

  I sent a shocked face emoji.

  Thanks Benjamin Button x

  May the force be with you Nee-naw X

  I grabbed a cloth and a bottle of cleaning fluid from the kitchen cupboard and found some rubber gloves. I wasn’t just cleaning the bathroom for Charlie’s return – Mum and Dad were going to be staying here too and Dolly didn’t even know. Although, she wouldn’t be too interested in cleaning the apartment even if she did. Take me as you find me had always been her motto. Mum’s too, actually. I used to think that if people took me as they found me, they’d be sorely disappointed.

  I realised I’d have to sleep on the sofa so my parents could have Dolly’s room, and I needed to change the bedding, but first, I threw open the bathroom door and half-heartedly moved the cloth around the sink – which wasn’t exactly filthy to start with – then succumbed to the temptation of a shower, setting it to Relax, which felt like standing in warm drizzle.

  In my bedroom, dressed in the freshly washed and dried koala onesie – I wasn’t planning on going downstairs any time soon – I tried not to think about Ryan telling me that koalas had the smallest brain-to-body-size ratio of any mammal. Then found myself wondering whereabouts in Australia his sister and nephew lived, and thinking of all the things I didn’t know about him and never would – not without grilling Charlie and coming across as really weird.

  Sighing, I turned to strip the bed and noticed a pale brown envelope lying on the bedside cabinet, just as Dolly shouted upstairs, ‘Nina! I meant to say, Gérard left an envelope for you. I’ve put it by your bed. He said to tell you he found it after you left the other day and he thought you’d like it.’

  ‘Thanks!’ I called back. ‘I’ve got it!’

  The envelope had been stuck with Sellotape and I ripped it open, hoping I wasn’t going to find money inside. Instead, there was a single sheet of paper, and I pulled it out with clumsy fingers, immediately spotting Augustine’s signature and four kisses at the bottom.

  When I saw the date at the top, I sank down on the bed: 4 February 1928. I was certain she hadn’t been married to Charles then, and she didn’t give birth until 1932. According to Mum, there’d been a heatwave that year and her mother had been born during a severe water shortage.

  Breathing quickly, I read the letter, eyes skipping over the words.

  Dear William,

  I can’t tell you what it meant to finally hear from you, and to know you understood that being apart so frequently made it hard for me to consider a future for us.

  With so little time together and only occasional letters, and the constant worry about your job – I can’t stop thinking about the loss of U.S. Navy ships at Honda Point, though I know you’d say th
at nothing like that could happen over here – it’s impossible to keep the flame burning, for both of us, and I’m so pleased to have your blessing. I love Charles with all my heart and know he’s the man I want to have a family with – to spend the rest of my life with, and it’s thanks to you, dear William, for showing me what true love is. I could never settle for anything less and Charles makes me happy, as you once did.

  I wish you all the best, and if you decide to settle down one day, she will be a very lucky woman. Know I will always hold you dear in my heart, and I shall raise a glass to you, and the times we spent together, every New Year’s Eve!

  Maybe you will do the same for me.

  Take care, William.

  Augustine xxxx

  I raised my eyes and stared in a daze at the wall. Augustine didn’t have an affair. William wasn’t the father of her child. She’d truly loved my great-grandfather.

  A smile found its way to my lips, and I sent up a silent thank you to Gérard, in lieu of the real thing, when I would tell him about the link between our families that Maggie had unknowingly kept hidden all these years.

  Dolly was going to love this.

  I was on the verge of grabbing the rest of the letters and charging downstairs to show her, but something stopped me: I had a better idea.

  After reading the letter once more, I placed it with the rest and carefully bound them together with the pink ribbon, before returning them to the drawer.

  It would be the perfect Christmas gift for Mum and Dolly.

  After dashing a tear from my cheek – I had no idea why it was there – I turned my attention back to the bed and after I’d stripped it, I tipped out the items I’d bought at the market the day before.

  I’d intended to give the slippers and cat keyring to Ryan, but now I knew Delphine had almost killed Charlie, I thought about throwing the keyring away – then remembered she’d helped me find him and decided to keep it. The Mirabelle liqueur would be an extra present for Dolly, and Mum would love the vase I’d brought from Dee’s. Dad could have the gift-shop pen for his secret poetry scribbles that we all knew about, and I could easily see Frank wearing the pink braces I’d bought on impulse. Only Charlie didn’t have a gift. Then I remembered the giant bar of chocolate that I had hidden in the bedside drawer. It was Charlie’s favourite. And, with any luck, he’d share it (with me).