Christmas at Mistletoe Cottage

by Lucy Daniels

  ‘Hello, Mr Grimshaw,’ Mandy said. She might as well sit down in the seat Robbie’s nephew had vacated, she thought. The old man still seemed oblivious to her presence. Mandy followed his gaze through the window. Beyond the grassy garden, there were glimpses of other large houses among well-maintained trees. The roofs of Walton stretched away as the land started to slope up, and behind them, in the distance, the fells were visible. Was Mr Grimshaw remembering long ago days when the dales were his playground, Mandy wondered?

  ‘Can you see Norland Fell from here?’ she asked out loud. There was no reply. Moving her chair a little, she spotted the long ridge that topped the high moor. ‘I can’t quite see High Cross Farm,’ she went on, ‘but I passed by a couple of days ago.’

  High Cross was where Mr Grimshaw had helped Mandy and James with some rabbits many years ago. ‘Remember you went there with your ferrets?’ she prompted.

  For the first time, Robbie reacted. ‘Kirsty?’ he said, turning with wide eyes to look at her.

  ‘That’s right. Kirsty,’ Mandy echoed. She pictured Robbie cradling his favourite creature, Kirsty’s beady eyes fixed on his.

  The old man gazed at Mandy, his head on one side. ‘Who are you?’ he said and then, ‘Where’s Kirsty?’ He stretched his hand towards Mandy. Reaching out her own, she grasped it. It felt as brittle as a bird and the thin skin was flecked with age spots, but the old man’s grip was surprisingly firm.

  ‘Kirsty is safe,’ Mandy assured him. It was sort of true, she thought. Kirsty was long past any harm. ‘All your animals are safe,’ she said. ‘The cows and the sheep, your lovely Shire horse. Your dog Shy.’ She used the original name that Robbie had given her beloved dog.

  ‘Shy?’ There was a look on Mr Grimshaw’s face as if he was trying to remember and he squeezed Mandy’s hand. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something else, but his shoulders dropped and the pressure on her hand faded. ‘Kirsty,’ he said again, just as the auxiliary Mandy had spoken to earlier bustled into the room.

  ‘Who’s Kirsty?’ the woman asked Mr Grimshaw, but the old man made no sign of answering. ‘She was one of Mr Grimshaw’s ferrets years ago,’ Mandy explained to the woman. ‘He used to have a smallholding.’

  ‘Oh.’ Linda’s eyes were compassionate as she looked from Mandy to the old man. ‘It’s lovely that you’ve brought back some happy memories for him.’ If Robbie Grimshaw was following the conversation, he showed no sign. ‘And I’m sorry, Mandy, but Mr Grimshaw has an appointment with the physiotherapist in five minutes. I came to get him ready.’

  ‘No problem,’ Mandy replied. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly time for afternoon surgery. She rested her hand on top of Robbie Grimshaw’s. ‘I’ll come back another day,’ she promised, but the old man was looking out of the window again and did not respond.

  ‘It was nice of you to come,’ Linda told her. ‘I’m glad you and he had a chance to talk about his animals and it would be lovely to see you back again.’

  Mandy managed a smile. It was impossible to tell whether her visit had been good for Robbie. The feeling of melancholy that had threatened on the way intensified as she walked back down the stairs. Lovely as it was here, she was sure Robbie must miss the animals and the space he’d been used to all his life. Mandy recalled the young man she had disturbed. At least Robbie had someone who loved him enough to visit. Mandy made a mental note to come again soon, this time with Sky. Perhaps they could take her for a walk in the garden, and remind Robbie of old, happy times. Maybe some of the other residents would like to be introduced to some of the rescues. She knew there were many homes where dogs were encouraged to visit. Next time, she would try to find out whether the Rowans ran such a scheme. The more Hope Meadows could do to become a positive presence in the local community, the better it would be.

  ‘Do you have anything planned for tonight?’ Adam asked Mandy as they were clearing the dinner table.

  For once, Mandy didn’t have to rush back to the rescue centre to finish her chores. Nicole had visited for the first time that afternoon and proved to be a quick learner, as well as willing to tackle the least glamorous tasks. She had single-handedly cleaned out the rabbits and guinea pigs, and then helped Mandy with some donkey handling before grooming the cats. Like Mandy’s dad, Nicole had been very taken with Tango, and had gone back several times to give him an extra cuddle.

  Mandy slotted the last of the plates into the dishwasher. ‘No plans at all,’ she said. ‘Why?’

  Adam walked over to the stereo in the corner and slipped his mobile into the socket that connected his smartphone to the speakers. ‘We’re going to write Christmas cards,’ he said. ‘Since you’re a member of the practice now, we thought you should join us.’

  Mandy smiled. ‘It would be an honour! Shall I put the kettle on?’

  Adam was fiddling with the smartphone. The pure sound of a chorister’s voice came through the speakers. ‘Once in royal David’s city …’

  Adam turned to look at Mandy. ‘I have something better here,’ he said with a wink. Opening a cupboard, he pulled out a bottle and showed it to Mandy. ‘An early present from Mrs Anthony,’ he explained. Mrs Anthony was one of their regular clients, who had a garden full of treasured rabbits.

  ‘Murgatroyd’s Mulled Wine.’ Mandy read out the name on the side of the bottle.

  ‘I’m on call tonight,’ Emily announced. ‘None for me, I’m afraid.’

  Adam was grinning at Mandy. ‘Just us then,’ he said. ‘Oh and …’ he held up a finger. ‘Wait here.’ He rushed out of the kitchen, reappearing shortly wearing a headband with a pair of red plastic antlers. Looking pleased with himself, he reached up and pressed a tiny switch. The antlers began to flash and a tinny rendition of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer competed with the choir on the stereo.

  Mandy shook her head. Her dad always threw himself wholeheartedly into the festivities at this time of year. Christmas in Welford wouldn’t be the same without him.

  ‘How did Nicole get on?’ Emily asked, setting out pens alongside piles of Christmas cards.

  Mandy sat down and shuffled her cards into a tidy stack before taking one to sign. ‘Really well,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to be careful not to monopolise her time. I have to share her with Molly Future!’

  As she wrote her name beneath the printed message, Mandy’s mind wandered back to the work they had done with Robin and Holly that afternoon. The two donkeys were becoming far easier to handle, and Holly even let Nicole pick up each of her tiny hooves and tap them gently with a hoofpick. They had taken Flame out as well, and the lurcher had been fascinated with the foals, staring at them with her tail wagging gently until Nicole had joked that perhaps Mandy should consider rehoming the three of them together.

  Lifting her glass, Mandy took a mouthful of mulled wine, savouring the flavours of cinnamon and clove. Adam had warmed it up on the hob. He had slipped in a cinnamon stick and several slices of orange, and it was delicious. The kitchen smelled wonderful too. Whoever Murgatroyd was, he knew what he was doing.

  Adam stood up. ‘Another glass?’ he offered.

  She was feeling distinctly cheerful. ‘That would be lovely,’ she said.

  ‘How about you, Emily?’ Adam looked over at her mother, who was leaning her head on her hand as she wrote. ‘Would you like some more orange juice?’

  Emily looked up and shook her head. ‘Not just now thanks,’ she replied.

  Moving over to the pan of still-warm wine, Adam wielded the ladle and returned with a brimming glass. ‘Hey Mandy,’ he began, his eyes sparkling. ‘What do you call a law that calls for the banning of Father Christmas?’

  Mandy put down her pen. There came a time every year when Adam would begin to regale her with ridiculous Christmas jokes. Obviously this year was to be no exception. She wracked her brain trying to think of an answer. A law banning Father Christmas? ‘I have no idea,’ she admitted.

  Adam looked triumphant. ‘An anti Santa Clause,’ he declared.
With a flourish of his hand, he made a low bow. Mandy’s groan turned to a laugh as her dad knocked his antlers against a chair, snapping them in half. ‘Oh!’ He stood up looking embarrassed, one antler flashing at a crazy angle behind his left ear.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Mandy asked, once she had managed to control herself.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Grabbing the antlers, Adam switched them off and tossed them onto the kitchen counter. ‘So much for Rudolph,’ he said.

  ‘Well, if we’re going for cheesy jokes …’ Mandy warned. She waited a moment until her father had settled himself back in his seat and was looking at her, eyebrows raised. ‘What do Santa’s helpers create for him every year on the first of January?’

  Adam held up his hands to admit defeat. ‘Go on, tell us,’ he said.

  ‘An Elf and fitness plan,’ she flashed back with a sheepish grin.

  Adam rolled his eyes. ‘Now that is truly awful,’ he said. ‘Ten out of ten for cheesiness. You win. Christmas is officially here!’ He looked delighted and Mandy thought he might stand up and do a celebratory lap of the kitchen. But her father’s gaze had fallen on Emily who was sitting at the end of the table. She had been very quiet through their silliness, Mandy thought. Usually she would have joined in. ‘Are you all right, love?’

  To Mandy’s horror, Emily’s face was ashen. ‘I just need a glass of water,’ she mumbled. Pushing her chair away from the table, she tried to stand up but her legs gave way. She slumped to the floor with a faint yelp.

  Thrusting her own chair aside, Mandy rushed across. ‘Lie down, Mum,’ she urged. ‘Lie down, please.’ She put her arm around Emily’s shoulders and lowered her down so she was lying on her back. Pulling the chair round, she gently lifted Emily’s feet up so they were resting on the seat. A modicum of colour returned to Emily’s face. Mandy’s hands were shaking.

  Adam crouched down beside his wife and stroked her hair. ‘Emily?’ he said, his voice hollow. ‘It’s all right. We’re here.’ He looked up at Mandy. ‘Can you get the phone? We need to call an ambulance.’

  Emily shook her head, her hair brushing the carpet. ‘I don’t need an ambulance. I just felt a bit faint. I’ll be fine in a minute.’

  Mandy studied her mother. Emily was less pale now, though her pupils were still huge and her eyes were shadowed. ‘I’m going to call 111,’ Mandy said. ‘Let them decide.’ Walking out into the hall, she felt a tightness across her chest and shoulders. She had been worried about her mum for ages. Why hadn’t she had done something before now? With a lump in her throat, she dialled the number.

  ‘They’re going to call back,’ she told her dad, returning to the kitchen. Adam had helped Emily to her feet and was steering her into the living room. He settled her on the sofa and covered her with a blanket, then stood gazing down at her, his brow furrowed. Mandy winced. Her father had always seemed infinitely strong and capable, whatever happened. But this seemed to be more than he could bear. Emily was lying still, her eyes closed, but she was breathing evenly and her cheeks were a little pinker.

  It felt like an age before the callback came. After answering what felt like hundreds of questions, Mandy handed the phone to Emily. ‘They want to talk to you,’ she said.

  She listened to her mum’s half of the conversation. It all seemed far too casual, with Emily dismissing her collapse as a mild dizzy spell. ‘Thank you so much. I’ll do that,’ Emily said finally. She passed the phone back to Mandy. ‘I don’t need an out-of-hours appointment,’ she said. ‘I’ll go to the GP first thing.’ She lay her head back on a cushion, looking exhausted. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,’ she murmured, shutting her eyes again.

  ‘You’re not fine,’ Adam told her briskly. ‘But we’ll do everything we can to get you better. Come on, let’s haul you up to bed.’

  Mandy blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. Biting her lip, she helped her dad steer Emily up the stairs, then made her way to her own bedroom. She lay awake a long time.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mandy was glad nothing complicated came in next morning. Her father had taken Emily along to the GP clinic while Mandy covered surgery, and she was finding it nearly impossible to concentrate.

  Helen Steer, predictably, had been wonderful as soon as she heard the news. The nurse had arrived that morning laden with Christmas decorations, but as soon as she had seen Mandy’s face, she had stowed them away.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she’d demanded, and Mandy had poured out all the details. About Emily being tired and pale for so long; about her terrifying collapse last night. Helen had been neither dismissive, nor hysterical. She had agreed that Emily had looked tired recently, and then had set about sorting out the workload. She called a client whose dog had been booked in to see Emily for a non-emergency dental and another whose cat was due for sterilisation. Mandy had been relieved when the dental client had been happy to postpone. She could deal with the cat herself. There was at least one call she would have to attend later, but for now, she just wanted to know what the GP had said.

  She was relieved to see Emily in the car when her dad pulled into the drive. Mandy had half-expected her mum to be referred straight into hospital. By the time she had washed her hands and gone through to the kitchen, Emily was sitting at the table. Adam was outside, moving the car away from the door. It was raining hard so he’d spared Emily a soggy walk to the back door.

  ‘Mum?’ As soon as Mandy spoke, Emily turned and held her arms out. Mandy flew over to hug her. ‘What did they say?’ Letting go, she pulled out a chair and sat close beside her mum, holding her hand.

  ‘They weren’t sure.’ Emily’s voice was husky. ‘They think I’m a bit anaemic, but they want to check if there’s anything else going on. They took a load of blood samples.’

  Adam walked in and smiled at his wife and daughter. ‘They really did.’ He kicked off his shoes. ‘If she wasn’t anaemic before, she certainly will be now.’ It was just like her dad to try to lighten things with a joke, Mandy thought. Even Emily raised a faint smile. ‘Mandy?’ Adam looked apologetic. ‘Would you be able to look after Mum for a few minutes? I have to phone Mr Hapwell at Twyford about his bull.’

  ‘Of course,’ Mandy said as Emily protested, ‘I’m not an invalid!’

  Adam walked over, put his hand on Emily’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ he told her, bending to kiss her forehead. With a final worried glance, he disappeared.

  ‘What can I get you, Mum?’ Mandy still had hold of Emily’s fingers. They felt cold. ‘Would you like to lie down? I could help you up to bed and bring you a cup of tea, if you’d like.’

  ‘That sounds very indulgent,’ her mum said. ‘Thank you, love.’

  Mandy held on to her mum’s arm as Emily pushed herself up from the chair and walked slowly upstairs. It was all wrong. Emily never allowed anyone to help her. Tears pricked at Mandy’s eyes when she came back down, but she blinked them away. Even Sky seemed worried, clinging to Mandy’s heels as she prepared the tea and carried it up to the bedroom. Emily was almost asleep. Leaving the mug on the bedside table, Mandy tiptoed downstairs and went through to the clinic.

  ‘How is she?’ Helen asked as soon as Mandy appeared. ‘Your dad rushed out here, made a call, then rushed back into the house,’ she added. ‘I didn’t like to disturb him.’

  Mandy sighed. ‘We don’t know much more than before,’ she admitted. ‘They’ve taken blood. The results won’t be back till after the weekend.’ It seemed an impossibly long time to wait.

  Perching herself on one of the chairs at the reception desk, Mandy looked at the work list. There was nothing on until this afternoon, when she was due to carry out the Dillons’ house visit. ‘Is there really nothing to do?’ she said to Helen. ‘I could use the distraction, to be honest.’

  Helen pushed her heavy ponytail over her shoulder and shrugged. ‘I was going to put up the decorations, but it doesn’t seem right when your mum’s not well.’

  Mandy l
ooked around the waiting room. Despite being clean and well lit, the room seemed dull as the winter rain hammered against the window. It wasn’t as if Emily would mind a few festive ornaments, she thought. Mum loved Christmas as much as Adam did.

  ‘Where did you put the decs?’ she asked Helen.

  ‘In the cupboard with the cleaning equipment. Your dad got the tree down and put it in there yesterday.’

  Mandy stood up and opened the door to the cupboard. Helen came and peered over her shoulder. The tree and its ornaments lay in a sad pile in the dark. ‘Maybe we could put the tree up at least,’ Mandy suggested, picking up a strand of tinsel that was trying to wriggle free. ‘It would cheer the place up.’

  ‘One Christmas elf reporting for duty!’ Helen responded with a grin. She leaned into the cupboard and grabbed the trunk of the artificial tree. ‘Can you bring the base?’ she called over her shoulder as she hauled the tree out.

  Lifting the plastic feet from the box, Mandy followed Helen back into the waiting room. Between them, they slotted the base together and began unfolding the fluffy green branches. Mandy had a moment’s wistful pang for the fresh spruces that she and her father used to fetch from the Christmas tree farm near York. Nothing could beat the scent of real pine needles. But they weren’t good for dog paws, and cats were less likely to nibble artificial branches, so Animal Ark went with the health and safety festive option.

  It didn’t take long to hang up lights, silver tinsel, and a whole host of baubles, some of which Mandy remembered from her childhood. ‘I think it looks lovely,’ Helen declared, tapping a glittery gold bauble with her fingertip so that it spun slowly.

  Mandy rummaged at the bottom of the cardboard box of decorations. She pulled out a heap of white tissue paper and unwrapped it to reveal a lamp in the shape of a star. ‘I can’t believe this thing still works,’ she murmured, placing it on the reception desk and plugging it in.