by Heidi Swain
I was sure he would be every bit as thrilled as I was, more so probably, given his apparent love of the season. His face as the lights came on in the market square the night before had been a picture. That was something else I had thought about before I went to sleep but I had no idea why.
‘Well thank you,’ I said, leaning over and giving Dolly a kiss on the cheek. ‘I know my Christmas spirit has done a bunk, but I still love it. Have you got one?’
‘Of course,’ she said, pointing to the shelf above the sink. ‘It’s a bit battered, but then it would be. I’ve been opening and closing it for the last twenty odd years.’
Dolly’s calendar was the same sort as mine only hers featured a nativity scene, complete with manger, lowing cattle and one very bright star.
‘Let’s open them together,’ I said, jumping up and handing Dolly hers.
‘I know what I’ve got,’ she laughed. ‘I know them all off by heart now.’
‘Don’t spoil it,’ I told her, as I carefully lifted the corner of the little window marked one. Once I’d peeled a bit back, I slid a teaspoon underneath to help with the rest.
‘You could just tear it off,’ Dolly remarked as she revealed an angel behind her door. ‘I think mine needs a little more Sellotape,’ she added, getting up.
‘But then I wouldn’t be able to use it again next year,’ I said, thinking it might be nice if I could keep my calendar for as long as Dolly had had hers.
‘I suppose you could take it with you.’
For a moment I’d forgotten that this time next year, I’d be spending December in the sun, and every month before and after it, come to that.
‘What have you got?’ she asked. ‘Haven’t you got in yet?’
‘Yes,’ I swallowed, ‘yes, here we go. It’s a teddy bear. A lovely big bear with a bright red bow.’
‘Now,’ smiled Dolly, coming back with the tape. ‘How lovely is that?’
It was very lovely indeed.
*
Dolly was a fairly regular churchgoer and she was determined that I should join her that afternoon for the first advent service of the year.
‘But I don’t do church,’ I told her. ‘I’m not a church person.’
Beamish, playing the part of chauffeur once again and with his calendar carefully grasped in his bear-sized mitts, shook his head.
‘You call that an excuse,’ he tutted, his trademark grin in place.
‘You be quiet,’ I told him.
My rebuke made him smile all the more. He might have been the size of the Hulk but he had Puck’s mischievous spirit.
‘But I would really like you to come,’ Dolly wheedled. ‘The first candle on the advent wreath will be lit today and it’s quite unusual for the first day of December to actually fall on a Sunday, you know.’
I wasn’t even sure what an advent wreath was, but I could see it meant a lot to my friend.
‘I’ll get my coat,’ I said resignedly.
‘And I’ll get the truck warmed up,’ said Beamish, bounding out the door and banging it shut behind him.
I was surprised to see the church so packed and the service, which was all about hope, stirred up memories of Christmas past, many of which I hadn’t thought about in years. The first purple candle in the evergreen wreath was lit and ‘O Come, O Come, Emmanuel’ was sung with such enthusiasm I thought I was going to cry. Beamish handed me a tissue as the hymn drew to a close and I felt a little foolish to have been found out. I turned to say something to him, but he was staring straight ahead and I was certain his own eyes were a little wetter than usual.
‘Now that wasn’t too bad, was it?’ asked Dolly as the three of us made our way to the back where tea and mince pies were being administered.
‘It was lovely, Dolly,’ said Beamish. ‘But if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m just nipping out to catch a word with someone, but you take your time. I’m in no rush.’
More than one pair of eyes were trained on his retreating back and I guessed that Dolly’s driver and handyman was highly regarded among her churchgoing friends.
‘Hello, Harriet,’ said a man’s voice behind me as we stood in the queue for tea. ‘Rose tells me you’re going to ask about joining us until the end of term.’
‘Mr Matthews,’ said Dolly, ‘I thought I heard your baritone somewhere near the back. What’s this you’re saying about Hattie?’
Rose waved at me from where she was handing out colouring sheets and crayons to keep the youngsters occupied, and I shook my head in response.
‘I think I’m right,’ Mr Matthews, the headteacher, continued with a frown, ‘aren’t I?’
‘I did talk to Rose last night about the possibility of volunteering for a few days,’ I began to explain.
‘Well that’s wonderful,’ interrupted Dolly, her cheeks positively glowing. ‘Why ever didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I still haven’t made up my mind,’ I rushed on. ‘I know Rose said that all my checks and things would still be up to date, but . . .’
‘We really could do with an extra pair of hands, couldn’t we, Dolly?’ Mr Matthews quickly cut in. ‘We’ve had a new boy join us recently and he’s diabetic so Mr Patterson’s teaching assistant spends quite a bit of her time out of the classroom now. Some extra help, especially in the run-up to Christmas, would be very much appreciated. I still haven’t worked out how we’re going to cope without Dolly next term.’
The poor man really did look genuinely worried and I knew from some of what Dolly had told me that school budgets were being squeezed and cut all the time. That said, I still wasn’t prepared to say yes until I’d given offering my services – or should I say Rose offering my services – some more serious thought.
‘Are you waiting for tea, dear?’
I hadn’t realised I was holding up the queue.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘sorry. Can I have two cups, please?’
‘I’ll see you both tomorrow then,’ said Mr Matthews, moving off to speak to the vicar before I had a chance to correct him.
‘Now,’ said Dolly. ‘That really will be a treat.’
Rose somehow managed to slip away every time I got close enough to tell her that I still hadn’t made up my mind and with Dolly looking happier and healthier than I’d seen her since my arrival, I didn’t have the heart to make a fuss.
‘I think it’s about time we were heading back, don’t you?’ she said, after finishing her third cup of church tea. ‘It’s going to be a busy week, what with the school fair happening on Friday afternoon. I daresay we could both do with an early night.’
Beamish had set up a timer for the lights at Dolly’s cottage and I could see it had worked the second he swung the truck back into her road. I had thought Dolly would want them on the evening before but that night, she told me, was reserved solely for the town. Now however, her little place positively glowed like a festive beacon. Other houses were also decorated but none as brightly as Dolly’s. The old-fashioned red, blue, yellow and green bulbs, which Beamish had hammered in place under the eaves and around the windows looked very jolly indeed and, on the lawn just inside the gate, Santa appeared poised to launch, his reindeer straining to take flight.
‘There now,’ Dolly exclaimed as she leant forward in her seat to get a better look. ‘What a welcome sight to come home to.’
‘It looks great,’ agreed Beamish as he unashamedly admired his handiwork. ‘I hope Mum’s looks this good.’
‘I’m sure it will,’ said Dolly, patting his arm. ‘Do you still think it looks tacky, Hattie?’
‘Tacky!’ gasped Beamish. ‘Is that really what you think?’
I could hardly deny the accusation given the conversation Dolly and I had had just the day before.
‘I admit that yesterday I did think it was going to look a little . . . naff,’ I said, wishing there was a word which would describe my former feelings a little less harshly, ‘but now it’s all lit I think it’s great.’
‘She wanted warm white lights,’ sai
d Dolly, unclipping her seatbelt, ‘and a holly wreath on the door.’
‘You’ve been reading too many glossy magazines featuring country cottage Christmas styling,’ said Beamish.
‘No, she hasn’t,’ said Dolly, ‘she doesn’t go in for Christmas, remember? So, she won’t have seen any of those.’
‘Oh yes, that’s right.’ He went on, ‘You’re not a fan are you, Hattie?’
I really didn’t think it was fair that they should both tease me like that.
‘I used to be.’ I said, jumping out to help Dolly. ‘Perhaps I’ve just forgotten what it’s all about.’
‘In that case,’ she said, taking hold of my hand as she carefully lowered herself on to the road, ‘it’s just as well that I’ve come up with the perfect plan to help you remember.’
*
Later that evening as we sat either side of the fire, Dolly with Tiddles on her lap and me rocking gently in Dolly’s grandmother’s chair, I fell to thinking over my first weekend in Wynbridge and all the feelings and memories the place had already stirred up.
Before I arrived, I had thought I had most things in my life in order, what with the fresh start in a new country poised to happen and a proposal of marriage from the man I loved waiting in the wings, but now it felt as if someone had come along with a big stick and stirred everything up, muddying the previously clear waters and stopping me from seeing the bottom.
It seemed inevitable now that I would be heading into school with Dolly the next day but I still couldn’t decide why I was so reluctant to go. It wasn’t as if I had a hundred and one other things to be getting on with while Dolly was at work and I had always enjoyed my time there, but then perhaps that itself was the problem. Perhaps, on some subconscious level, I was worried that I would love it all over again and regret that I hadn’t done more to turn the fantasy I used to play out on the train into reality.
Or maybe it was the thought of being surrounded by all those excited under-eights. Jonathan and I may have never discussed get married but he had made his feelings about starting a family very clear. He didn’t want to. As far as he was concerned, we, as a couple, were perfect as we were, just the two of us.
‘I don’t want to share you with anyone,’ he had told me very early on in our relationship, ‘and I never will.’
And given everything I was coming to terms with from my past, that had been OK for a while. It was even OK now, but would it be OK for ever? I wasn’t sure. I still didn’t know if I would want a baby one day but I supposed my silence on the subject had led him to believe that I had accepted his pronouncement. After all, I wouldn’t have been banging on about finding a job in Abu Dhabi if I was harbouring a secret desire to start a family, would I? Truth be told, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to go at all if I had baby fever.
I began to wish that I had taken Dolly’s advice and gone off somewhere to make up my mind about moving instead of letting Jonathan’s smooth talking and the deteriorating weather influence my decision. I loved the man, of course I did, but I suddenly realised the enormity of what I was going to be giving up for good when I accepted his impending proposal and our global relocation.
‘Penny for them.’
‘Sorry?’
‘For your thoughts,’ said Dolly. ‘You’ve been staring into the flames for the last half an hour and looking as though you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. What are you thinking about?’
‘Actually,’ I fibbed, ‘I was trying to work out what it was that you’ve come up with to try and help me remember what Christmas is all about.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist asking,’ Dolly smiled, accepting what I had said as she transferred Tiddles from her lap to mine. ‘I’ll get my notepad and pencil and then I’ll explain.’
‘I hope it isn’t anything to do with making a list,’ I told her, ‘because that’s cheating. You know how I love a good list. I won’t be able to resist if there are bullet points involved.’
‘It has everything to do with making a list,’ said Dolly, settling herself back into her seat, now with her squishy beanbag lap tray, reading glasses and notepad in place. ‘A Christmas Wish List.’
‘A Christmas, what?’ I frowned.
‘Wish List,’ she said again, licking the end of her pencil and deftly flicking the notebook open on to the next clean page.
‘What’s one of those?’ I asked.
I couldn’t imagine she was going to ask me to start writing a list of longed-for presents. Dolly was the least materialistic person I knew.
‘Well, it can be all sorts of things,’ she said seriously and I suddenly got the feeling she was going to aim straight for my heart, ‘to all sorts of people, but this one is unique to you, Hattie. I saw your face light up this morning when you opened that advent calendar and I’m certain there are plenty of other things about Christmas that you’ve missed every bit as much, it’s just that you’ve forgotten about them.’
I wasn’t sure she was right, but I did love the calendar.
‘So, the point of the list is . . .’
‘To experience them again,’ she said, scribbling something I couldn’t make out at the top of the page. ‘I want you to create a list of all the things you either haven’t done for ages or won’t be able to do when you move, or even both. Like I told you before, I want you to make some memories to take with you, my dear.’
‘I see.’
‘You keep insisting that Christmas isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but I’m not sure if you’re simply accepting Jonathan’s opinion about it as your own, or if you’ve worked through the holidays for so long you’ve hardened your heart against it, or if you’re in denial about the joy it can bring because you don’t talk to your parents . . .’
‘Dolly—’
‘I know,’ she carried on, flapping her hand, ‘I know, you don’t need me to point all this out to you and you probably think I’m a little cruel to do it—’
‘A little cruel—’
‘But I’m only saying it because I know that somewhere deep inside, you’ve still got the capacity to have some festive fun. Your reaction when you opened that envelope this morning was proof enough of that.’
She was silent then, sitting with her pencil poised and wearing a neutral expression. I knew exactly the game she was playing. She was waiting for me to make a suggestion and if I didn’t, we’d end up sitting there all night.
‘Well I suppose I could think of something,’ I caved after about a minute and a half.
‘Marvellous.’
‘But only if we do it together.’
‘Together?’
‘Yes,’ I insisted, ‘we’ll both add things to the list.’
If I was going to have to go along with the idea, then she was going to have to join in too.
‘But I’ve always done everything I’ve ever wanted at Christmas,’ Dolly frowned. ‘You know that.’
‘Those are my terms,’ I told her. ‘A joint list, or no list at all.’
Dolly chewed the end of her pencil and rubbed her forehead.
‘Oh, oh,’ she gasped a few seconds later. ‘Actually, there is something I would love to see.’
‘Right then,’ I said feeling pleased to have drawn her in and caught her in the web she had spun for me, ‘you’d better write it down.’
We spent the rest of the evening compiling a list of all the things I had missed out on in recent years. Dolly came up with far more than I did and lots of them were silly things like wearing a Christmas jumper, but she said they were every bit as important as the bigger things because they all formed part of the spirit of the season.
‘I think that’s going to be my highlight,’ Dolly sighed, as she re-read her wish to take a trip to the Norfolk coast. She was hoping to spot some of the pink-footed geese which visited there every winter. ‘If we can find a way to get there, that is.’
‘I’m sure we’ll manage it,’ I told her.
Truth be told I was m
ore interested in ticking off the things Dolly had added for herself than working through what she had included for me. As lovely as her idea was, I knew it was going to take a whole lot more than wearing a spangly sweater to get me in a merry mood.
‘Is that it then?’ I yawned. ‘Surely, that has to be enough to be going on with for now?’
‘There is just one more thing,’ said Dolly.
‘What?’
She looked up from her notes and fixed me with a serious stare.
‘I know this isn’t the first time I’ve said it recently, but more than anything,’ she said, ‘I want you to get back in touch with your parents, Hattie.’
I shook my head. She couldn’t add that, it had nothing to do with Christmas.
‘You know that’s impossible,’ I said quietly. ‘You know what they said.’
‘I know that you’ll regret it if you don’t,’ she carried on. ‘I’m not suggesting you turn up on their doorstep, or even telephone. Just send a simple card with the return address for here, or your email written inside.’
The sneaky thing. She was going to use a Christmas card to make her request fit the list.
‘That way,’ she carried on, ‘should they need to, or want to, they’ll be able to get in touch.’
I shook my head.
‘You wanted me to write the Wish List with you, Hattie,’ she said firmly, ‘and this is the one thing I want to add to it more than anything else. I know you’ve told me that you can never forgive them and, given everything you’ve been through, I do understand, but if you move to the other side of the world without telling them I really think it’ll be game over for you and them, for ever.’
I sat back in my chair and let out a long slow breath. I thought I had been so clever making Dolly join in with her own additions, but now it seemed she had pulled me into the web along with her. What a clever woman she was.
Chapter 6
The sky above Wynbridge the next morning was slate-grey to match my mood as Dolly and I set off for school, after a fortifying breakfast of honey-sweetened porridge, carrying a thermos apiece. Apparently, I was the newest Wynbridge Infants recruit whether I wanted to be or not.
