A Merry Little Christmas (19 page)

She went to take his hand, but he shrugged her off.

‘Will they be here long?’ he said.

‘They’re just going actually,’ said Pippa, stung. Dan had always welcomed their friends into his home. She tried to remind herself it was part of his condition, but it was hard, when all she wanted to do was go back to normal.

‘Good,’ said Dan, taking his tea out into the yard. ‘And you know you’re wasting your time, don’t you? No one’s got any money. Lucy’s losing her respite care, and there’s nothing we can do about it.’

Pippa looked at Dan in dismay. She’d thought he’d take an interest in the campaign. In the past, she could have relied on his instant support. But now it seemed he’d gone the other way. He still cared about what happened to Lucy, but didn’t seem to think they could change anything.

The old Dan would never have been so bleak. It looked like they still had a long long way to go.

‘Look Mum, I’m really sorry, but we just won’t be able to come to you for Christmas this year. It was so stressful with the children last year, and I think they need to wake up in their own house on Christmas Day. We’d love it if you could join us of course …’

Marianne was sitting in the lounge on the phone to her mum again, while the twins played in their playpen. She’d decided to take the bull by the horns, and state her case about Christmas firmly. It had seemed like a good idea when she’d suggested it to Gabriel the night before, but it wasn’t going well. There was a deafening silence on the other end of the phone. She might have guessed. Marianne knew her mum wouldn’t – couldn’t – bear to give up the baton.

‘You might enjoy a year off from cooking the turkey,’ Marianne’s voice trailed off. What was she thinking? Her mother would be dead before she’d ever contemplate not buying a turkey for four that could feed ten.

‘Well there’s always Matthew,’ said her mother tetchily. ‘I’m sure he won’t let me down. And if Marcus is at a loose end, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind joining us, so your dad and I aren’t on our own.’

Sorry? thought Marianne silently, staggered at her mother’s blissful lack of self-awareness. Matt felt the pressure of family Christmases even more than she did, particularly since he’d returned from his foreign travels and shacked up with his boyfriend Marcus, which suddenly put his lack of serious girlfriends into perspective. Of course, Mum had no idea of the true state of affairs, referring to Marcus as Matthew’s ‘friend’ if asked. It was totally beyond her to imagine that two men living together might be doing something other than flat sharing, particularly if one was her son. As far as she was concerned, Marcus was helping Matt with the mortgage by paying him rent, having no idea at all that Marcus’ name was actually on the mortgage. Neither had it dawned on her that her son’s house was unnaturally tidy, with an interior design to die for, for the full-blooded single heterosexual she fondly imagined him to be. Good old Mum, stuck in the dark ages.

Marianne gave up and turned the conversation to other matters before hanging up. It wasn’t as though they weren’t going to have variations of this discussion at least a dozen times before December. But at least she’d sowed the seed. Maybe by then, Mum would be telling everyone that Marianne had stayed in Shropshire at her suggestion. ‘So much less stressful for everyone.’ Marianne sighed. Gabe’s mum never put any pressure on them. She really wished her mother could accept that her daughter was grown up with a life of her own.

‘Huh, some chance,’ she said to the twins, who were sitting happily giggling away to each other. She wondered idly what was going on their minds. They seemed to be able to communicate with one another instantly, and were it not for the fact they needed feeding and changing sometimes she thought they’d survive perfectly well without her. One day they’d probably be moaning that she was putting pressure on them to come home for Christmas. She hoped not.

It was a blustery summer’s day, and she had the choice of sitting at home and attempting to tidy her pigsty of a house while the twins got under her feet, or taking them to the park and hoping that she could wear them out, so they’d go to sleep for long enough so she could tidy up. The park won. No contest really.

…
so since the last time we spoke I’ve been hard it, slaving in my kitchen, preparing for the Christmas edition of
Cat’s Country Kitchen
, which is imaginatively entitled
Cat’s Country Christmas
. Well, when I say my kitchen, I assume you all know that it’s – shock horror – not really my kitchen, but a specially designed one set up in a studio, but I can assure you all the delicious recipes you will be seeing on the programme will definitely have been tried out chez Tinsall before they go out on air!
…

Cat was updating her blog, something she rarely did now, to let people know that her new book,
Cat’s Country Kitchen,
would soon be available, whilst regaling her readers with little snippets about how the latest filming for her Christmas special
Cat’s Country Christmas
was going, and pointing out to Mrs J in Worcester, that Yes, she
did
in fact know meringues were made with egg whites and not egg yolks, but it was an unfortunate typo, which would be corrected on the next reprint of her last cookery book. While she had accidentally typed yolk instead of white (and, yes, everyone including Cat had missed it) the rest of the recipe did describe how the yolks needed to be separated off, so only an idiot would have actually whipped the yolks together. Maybe they’d made an interesting soufflé instead.

Mel was at home, upstairs in her room. Allegedly revising, but judging by the thumping music coming from upstairs, precious little study was going on.

Cat got out her latest batch of recipes to start typing up, but was getting increasingly distracted by the dulcet tones of Tinie Tempah. God knows how Mel worked with that racket. She certainly couldn’t. Taking a deep breath, she went upstairs, to knock on Mel’s door. There was no reply, so Cat tentatively poked her head around the door, to find her daughter in floods of tears.

‘Oh, Mel, sweetheart, whatever’s the matter?’ Any irritation dissipated immediately.

Mel looked up slightly horrified to see her mum, and switched off her phone, where she’d clearly been having a heated text exchange.

‘Mum, you could knock,’ Mel was still pugnacious, still full of attitude, even if she looked as though the world was ending.

‘I did,’ said Cat, ‘but your music, which I was coming to ask you to turn down, was so loud you didn’t hear me.’

She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Now come on, hon, what’s wrong? You look dreadful.’

It was true, Mel looked awful. Her hair was lack lustre, her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and her face looked paler than ever.

‘Is it a boy?’

‘No, of course not,’ Mel poured such scorn on her rebuttal, Cat couldn’t help thinking she was protesting too much.

‘What about Andy?’

‘History,’ said Mel. ‘And I wouldn’t waste my time crying over him.’

Okay. So it was a boy, partly. Whatever Mel said, Andy had clearly got under her skin. But going along with it, Cat pretended that Mel’s problems came from another source.

‘So what then?’ said Cat. ‘Is it your exams? Because you know, it’s not the end of the world if you fail. Dad and I want you to do well, of course we do, but you can always resit if you have to.’

‘It’s not my exams,’ said Mel.

‘What is it?’

‘Oh everything,’ said Mel, looking miserable. ‘Leaving school, and my mates, and Granny being ill. It feels as if everything’s changing and I hate it.’

Cat drew an inner sigh of relief. She could remember experiencing that anxious feeling of things and life moving on herself. If that was all that was wrong with Mel, she had been worrying about nothing.

‘Oh sweetie, I hadn’t realised you were so upset about Granny,’ said Cat.

‘Of course I am,’ said Mel. ‘Do you – do you think she’s going to die?’

Cat paused for a moment. The thought was never far from her own mind.

‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly. ‘Sometimes, yes, but then Granny’s very strong. I don’t think she’ll give up without a fight.’

‘Oh.’ Mel looked so bereft, Cat hugged her like she used to when Mel was little. Back then it had been easy to promise she could make everything better. Now things were different. But for once, Cat was relieved to notice, Mel responded to her hug. Even big girls needed their mum sometimes, it seemed.

‘It looks like it’s going to be a glorious day, today,’ Marianne said to Gabriel over breakfast. The sun had come up early, and courtesy of the twins, she had witnessed a gorgeous sunrise over the valley. There had been so few days like this of late, it seemed a waste not to make the most of it.

‘Shall we have a barbie? Get Pippa, Dan, Noel and Cat over with the kids? We can get the paddling pool out and they can all splash about.’

‘Great idea,’ said Gabriel. ‘I’ll be out all morning, and might have to go back out around six, but I can probably escape for the afternoon. I’m sure Dad can come over if necessary.’

‘Good, I’ll ring round everyone.’

Gabe went off to work and Steven mooched along after him. Steven had spent more time with Gabriel recently, Marianne was pleased to note. She wondered if the reality that Steven would be leaving home in September was beginning to hit him. Whatever the reason, Marianne was glad. Gabriel and Steven had always had a strong bond, and she would have hated to see it broken.

‘What can I bring?’ was Cat’s immediate offer, when Marianne called to invite her to the barbecue.

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘You deserve a day off cooking. Just bring yourselves and some booze.’

‘We’ll all come, except Mel probably,’ said Cat. ‘She’s a law unto herself these days. Are you sure I can’t bring anything? I’m happy to. I hate going anywhere empty handed.’

‘Oh go on, if you must,’ said Marianne. ‘You could bring your couscous salad. It’s really delicious and I haven’t got a hope in hell of making it like that.’

Pippa sounded frazzled when she rang.

‘Sorry, Lucy’s meant to be having respite this weekend, but they cancelled at the last minute,’ she said, ‘but yes, we’d love to come. Can I bring anything?’

‘No,’ said Marianne firmly. ‘You bring yourselves. I think you’ve enough on your plate without cooking for us. Have a day off.’

‘If you insist,’ said Pippa.

‘I absolutely do,’ said Marianne.

She got busy the minute the twins had gone down for their nap, making salads and preparing kebabs. She dug out homemade burgers and sausages from the fridge – living on a farm certainly had its uses. Though Gabe specialised in sheep, he often took meat from Dan to make up into sausages and burgers. Even Marianne had got adept at the sausage making machine, something she could never have envisaged in her former life.

By the time Gabe and Steven came back at lunchtime, she had everything ready.

‘Okay, get yourself cleaned up,’ she said ‘and you can take over.’

‘A barbecue being a man’s job you mean?’

‘Of course,’ said Marianne, ‘while it’s my job to sit in the sunshine drinking Pimms.’

Gabe came round and gave her a hug.

‘As you should, my darling, as you should.’

‘Ugh,’ said Steven as Gabriel kissed Marianne lightly on the lips. Marianne laughed and sent them both upstairs to get changed as she started clearing up the kitchen. It being such a fine day, she had the doors open, and the sun was streaming in, along with the sounds of the country. The twins were cheerfully banging their spoons on their high chairs, and Marianne felt a huge swell of contentment. However tough life might seem at times, she was very very blessed.

‘Hope we’re not too early.’ The entire Tinsall clan were standing on the doorstep. It was an overwhelming sight for anyone, thought Cat, especially now they were bigger. James had really shot up in the last few months, exchanging his angelic looks for lanky teen boyhood, though luckily for him, minus the spots. Paige was more appropriately dressed for clubbing and Ruby was jumping up and down with excitement like a yo-yo, while Mel slouched sulkily behind. It was a brave person who let them all in, and Cat was always grateful to anyone who invited the whole family.

‘Not at all,’ said Marianne. ‘Come on through.’

Mel slouched behind, hands in pockets, wearing a hid-
eously baggy t-shirt and cut-off jeans, listening to something on her iPod; the epitome of the surly teen. Her hair was unbrushed, and unlike Paige who was coated in the stuff, she was wearing no make-up. Cat really wished she’d make more of herself. It was as though she couldn’t be bothered at the moment, which wasn’t like Mel at all. Up until relatively recently, she’d never gone out of the house with a hair out of place.

Paige and Ruby had brought their swimming costumes, and were soon having a water fight with Steven. As soon as Pippa’s lot arrived, they joined in too, leaving James to abandon his too-cool-for-school pose. Soon he was chasing his screaming sisters round the garden, while Lucy and Mel remained with the adults, Lucy clicking her pleasure, seeing all the fun. Did she ever feel left out? Cat wondered. It was so hard to tell. Then Ruby came running up. ‘Lucy, do you want me to push you down there, with the others?’ Cat could have hugged her, for her thoughtful behaviour.

Will I get wet? typed Lucy.

‘Yes!’ said Ruby. ‘It’s no fun otherwise.’

If I have to, typed Lucy, but she was giggling, and she was quickly having a whale of a time with Ruby and Paige, who made sure she didn’t feel left out.

Mel was texting her mates and looking bored, but eventually, either driven away by the boredom of adult conversation, or having run out of gossip, she too succumbed to the water fight going on.

‘This is great,’ said Cat, sitting back and sipping her Pimms. ‘Oh for more days of the Great British Summer like this.’

‘But not so many that the crops don’t grow,’ grinned Pippa.

‘Yes, I forgot about that,’ said Cat. ‘I’m a townie at heart, I can’t help it. Are you sure the boys don’t need any help?’

The boys were huddled self-importantly over the barbie, sipping beer and discussing the relative merits of the sausages.