A Merry Little Christmas (16 page)

‘Even my mother-in-law doesn’t start asking till July,’ grinned Cat. ‘What did you tell her?’

‘Oh nothing for now,’ said Marianne, ‘I couldn’t face the row. All I really want to do is hide away with Gabe and the children, but I doubt that will be an option. Still it’s a long way off; anything could happen.’

Cat sighed and looked pensive. She was still looking very pale and wan. She’d lost a lot of weight too.

‘You okay?’

‘Sort of,’ she said. ‘It’s silly really. I can’t stop thinking about the baby. It would have been about three months at Christmas.’

‘That’s not silly,’ said Marianne, reaching over and squeezing her hand, ‘it’s only natural.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Cat, ‘but I feel guilty too. I wasn’t even sure I wanted this baby. Lord knows I wasn’t ready for another one at my age, but …’

‘Now it’s gone?’

‘… I can’t help thinking about what might have been,’ admitted Cat. ‘It would have been lovely to have had a new baby at Christmas. Really magical. Especially as it would have been our last.’

‘Are you sure?’ joshed Marianne. ‘Have you forgotten the lack of sleep?’

‘Well, I never sleep much at Christmas anyway,’ said Cat, ‘I’m always so busy.’

‘Couldn’t you have tried again?’ said Marianne.

‘No,’ said Cat. ‘The baby wasn’t planned, and we lost it. Noel and I have had long discussions about it. It wasn’t meant to be. Some things just aren’t. So I’ve had my tubes tied. It’s for the best. Realistically, I don’t think I could cope with teen hormones
and
the baby blues. That would be a pretty lethal combination. I think Mother Nature was trying to tell me something.’

‘Maybe she was,’ said Marianne. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Cat. ‘I’ll get over it. And it’s not like I’m not busy enough with the other four. I’ll be so glad when Mel’s GCSEs are over.’

‘How’s it going with Mel?’ asked Marianne who, looking at the twins getting happily wet, couldn’t imagine either of them ever being old enough to exhibit any sign of teenage angst.

‘She appears to be working for her exams, which is something,’ said Cat, ‘but she’s very secretive. I just can’t get through to her.’

‘What about the boyfriend?’

‘God knows,’ said Cat, ‘she never discusses him. I don’t even officially know he exists. I’ve no idea what she’s getting up to. It’s a real worry.’

‘She’ll get over it,’ said Marianne. ‘It’s probably just a phase and she’ll grow out of it.’

‘I do hope so,’ said Cat with feeling. ‘It’s been a very very long phase.’

‘Let’s go out for the day.’ Pippa had decided it was time to be more proactive. She and Dan had spent far too much time indoors since his accident. Plus Dan had told her what Marianne had said to him about having small goals, so she tried to help him by making plans each day, even if it was only getting him to walk around the living room without his crutches. His mobility was getting so much better. The shock of what had happened was beginning to wear off, but she was worried that Dan might be sliding into depression. She felt it was important she tried to get him reconnected with the outside world.

Dan was grumpy about it.

‘I can’t even walk up the lane,’ he said.

‘Well, you haven’t tried,’ said Pippa. ‘Come on, what was it you were saying after Marianne came the other week? You were going to aim at little victories?’

Dan had the grace to look a little shamefaced.

‘Sorry, you’re right,’ he said.

‘Good,’ said Pippa. ‘Because I was thinking a blow on the top of the hills and a pub lunch at the Springer Arms would do us both good. I’ll drive. Go on. The kids are at school and once you’re fit again, you’ll have to work. When was the last time you took me out to lunch?’

That elicited a small smile.

‘Better,’ said Pippa. ‘Let’s get cracking.’

It took longer than she thought it would to get out of the door. Dan needed the loo, it was fiddly getting his coat and shoes on, and even with crutches, his walking was still painfully slow.

Getting in the car was also a struggle. Their Land Rover was high, and she didn’t have the strength to push Dan up into it. Luckily Gabe turned up at an opportune moment, and with a lot of heaving, a ‘Come on, you lazy sod, put your back into it’ and an undignified push in the back, they managed.

Luckily that lightened the mood, as Dan saw the funny side.

‘I hope you treat your pregnant ewes with more respect,’ he said as Gabriel helped Pippa manoeuvre him into position properly.

‘At least they don’t moan so much,’ quipped Gabe, and Pippa was relieved that Gabe’s gentle teasing had helped put Dan into a better frame of mind.

And then they were away. Finally driving on the main road out of Hope Christmas, for the first time since the accident.

The sun was out, so Pippa wound down the windows, turned up the music and for a few moments, as they drove past sun-drenched fields of cows and sheep and wound their way to the top of the hills, she could almost forget anything was wrong.

‘Penny for ’em?’ Dan looked across at her, as she belted out the words of
It’s Raining Men
as loud as she
could.

‘Thinking that this is just like old times,’ she said, ‘before the kids came along.’

‘I need to find a patch of heather to have my wicked way with you,’ grinned Dan, as they reached the top of the hill.

Pippa was touched. Dan’s memories had been sporadic since the accident. But he remembered that; a tender moment early in their courtship, when they’d played hooky from their respective farm duties and spent a happy Sunday on the hillside, using the heather as cover for their frolics. Afterwards they’d gone to the pub, and held hands, and she’d known then that he was worth hanging on to. It had been a blissful day, and the fact that Dan still remembered it too gave her hope.

‘Shall I pull over?’ quipped Pippa, but then Dan’s face darkened.

‘That was then; this is now.’

They sat in silence for the remainder of the journey, and when they got to the pub, Dan stiffly slid out of the Land Rover, eschewing her offers of help. He limped slowly and painfully on his crutches to the pub entrance, and Pippa followed him, full of heartache. How could she help him, when he blanked her out?

In silence they chose a table outside, where the sun shone down and they could watch the birds wheeling high in the sky, and look over towards the Welsh hills in the distance. It should have been idyllic.

‘It will be better, Dan,’ said Pippa, leaning over and taking his hand, ‘I do believe that. Look how much progress you’ve made already.’

Dan flinched at the contact, and she turned away, hurt, but then he said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ She looked up to see tears in his eyes.

‘Don’t be,’ said Pippa, ‘it’s not your fault. It’s just sodding, awful, bad luck.’

‘But look at me,’ said Dan, ‘I’m a bloody wreck. I’m useless to you and the kids.’

‘This won’t last forever,’ said Pippa, holding his hands firmly in hers. She hated seeing him like this. It made her want to hold him tight and protect him forever. ‘Come on, the physio’s pleased with your progress, and so should you be. You listen to me, Dan Holliday, you just stop feeling sorry for yourself. We will get through this, just like we do everything. Together, do you hear? Little victories, remember?’

‘Oh Pippa,’ said Dan, leaning over to stroke her cheek, ‘what did I do to deserve you?’

Pippa blinked away her tears, and grinned as hard as she could. Dan needed her to be strong, not pathetically weak.

‘I don’t know,’ said Pippa, ‘but as long as you don’t forget it.’

‘I won’t,’ said Dan, looking at her with such gratitude in his eyes she wanted to hug him again. ‘I promise you I won’t.’

The sun climbed higher in an azure blue sky, there was the constant sound of bleating sheep, and she could make out the distant hum of the traffic. Life didn’t get any better than this at the moment, and for once, Pippa felt herself hope for a better future.

Marianne had put the twins to bed and was pottering around in the kitchen, feeling slightly anxious. It was getting late, and Gabe wasn’t yet in. True, in the summer the nature of his work precluded early homecomings, but he was breaking his back all hours to help Dan and Pippa out. He wasn’t alone of course. Pippa’s dad Jim, Gabe’s dad and uncle were all on hand, but Gabe was the one on-site all the time. And he was younger and knew the ropes. Plus he was incredibly conscientious, so would always go the extra mile.

Marianne had known all this when she married him of course, and she knew why he was helping out now. But whereas before she’d have been out there with him, since the twins’ arrival she couldn’t. Steven regarded her with affection, of course he did, but he was an eleven-year-old boy. If he wasn’t out on the fields with Gabe, he was upstairs on his Xbox, and was hardly great company. Marianne couldn’t help it, she felt lonely. All she wanted of an evening, once the children were in bed, was the opportunity to snuggle up to Gabe with a glass of wine. Was that so much to ask?

She felt slightly guilty for feeling it, but she was starting to feel resentful. It was no one’s fault, and she knew in similar circumstances Pippa and Dan would help her out too, but she couldn’t help it. The bottom line was, without Dan’s accident, Marianne would be seeing more of Gabe. She wanted her husband, and that’s what she wasn’t getting at the moment.

Marianne sat down to a solitary dinner in front of the TV. Steven came down at nine to say good night, and the twins woke once for milk, before settling back down again. Marianne was just thinking about going to bed, when Gabriel walked in. Trying to muster a sympathetic,
you must have had a rotten day
kind of smile, she said, ‘Oh poor you. You must be starving. There’s a curry in the oven.’

‘Oh,’ Gabriel looked conscience stricken.

‘Oh what?’

‘I’ve already eaten.’

‘How come?’

‘I went back to Dan and Pippa’s to give them a progress report, and Pippa gave me supper. Didn’t I tell you?’

‘No, Gabe, you did not,’ said Marianne between gritted teeth.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Gabriel. ‘I stopped to have a beer, and Pippa had cooked lasagne …’

‘And it didn’t occur to you to pick up the phone to let me know?’ snapped Marianne. She hadn’t meant to snap, but she was tired and fed up of being alone.

‘I forgot,’ said Gabriel looking sheepish.

‘Well thanks for nothing, Gabriel,’ said Marianne. She’d heard the apology, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to accept it.

‘Look, I’m sorry,’ said Gabriel. ‘It’s been a long day. I’m knackered. I don’t need this right now.’

‘Neither do I,’ said Marianne, staring at him in dismay. ‘I just need you. Is that too much to ask?’

‘So do Pippa and Dan,’ said Gabriel. ‘I thought that you, of all people would understand that. I’m done in. I’m going to bed.’

‘Gabe–’ began Marianne, but he’d stormed off up to bed, leaving her alone over a glass of wine, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Pippa pushed her way into the village store, feeling happier than she had for a long time. She’d been baking for England over the last few days, and for the first time in ages had time to bring cakes to the café. It felt good to be doing something normal for a change. Dan seemed to have cheered up since their lunch date, and day by day they could both see the progress he was making. He was beginning to take a more constructive interest in the farm and the previous evening had insisted on Gabe getting more help.

‘You can’t expect to carry on the way you have been,’ he said. ‘You’ve been fantastic, but you need a break too.’

‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ snorted Gabe. ‘There’s so much to do.’

‘Dan’s right,’ Pippa had said. ‘Go on, you and Marianne can’t have been out for months. Take a day off, and we’ll get cover, so you two can spend some time together.’

Gabe had looked pleased at the prospect, and Pippa had been glad she’d suggested it. They’d had so much support from him and Marianne over the last couple of months and she didn’t want to take them for granted.

‘Oh, lovely,’ Vera said as she walked in. ‘A new supply of cakes. We’ve been missing yours. The lady we brought in to cover isn’t a patch on you.’

‘Thanks,’ said Pippa. ‘I’ve really enjoyed having the time to do them. The last few months have been manic to say the least.’

‘How are things?’ Vera asked sympathetically.

‘Getting better,’ said Pippa. ‘Progress is slow, which is frustrating for Dan, but we’re getting there.’

The door opened, and Marianne came in pushing the twins in their double buggy. She looked exhausted.

‘Bad night?’ said Pippa sympathetically.

‘Let’s just say I didn’t get a lot of sleep,’ Marianne’s response was uncharacteristically terse.

‘Oh you poor thing,’ said Pippa. ‘Are they teething?’

‘Just a bit,’ said Marianne. She looked pale and tired and a little bit sad.

‘Marianne, is everything okay?’ said Pippa. It was definitely not like Marianne to be this abrupt.

‘Yes, fine. Why wouldn’t it be?’ retorted Marianne. ‘Sorry, I can’t stand here chatting. I’ve just come in for nappies, and then I’ve got to go home and play the farmer’s wife. You know what it’s like. Always so much to do.’

‘Marianne–’ began Pippa, but stopped. Oh lord, perhaps this was her and Dan’s fault, Gabriel had been round their house a lot of late. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘Not really,’ said Marianne. ‘Make sure my husband gets home on time, once in a while.’ She sighed.

‘Marianne, I’m so sorry about last night,’ said Pippa slightly flustered, it suddenly dawning on her why Marianne was cross. ‘Gabriel said he’d told you he’d be late.’

‘Well, he didn’t,’ said Marianne abruptly but then she softened. ‘Look, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but Gabriel’s worn out helping you out. And I hardly see anything of him at the moment. Forgive me, I’m being grumpy about it.’

‘Oh Marianne, I’m really sorry,’ said Pippa. ‘You’re the last person I want to upset.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Marianne with a tired grin. ‘I’m just tired and fed up. I’ll get over it.’

‘Well, at least let me buy you a coffee and muffin to make up,’ said Pippa.