The Christmas Spirit (11 page)

18th December

The phone rang just as Stanley was coming in the front door.
He didn’t even have time to pick up the mail lying behind it. Even with his
stick to aid him, he couldn’t move particularly quickly at the best of times,
with his arthritis, but he always tried to reach a ringing phone. You never
knew, it could be important. The climb up the four flights of stairs had worn
him out, too. He’d been on the housing list to get a house on the level for the
past eight years, but still nothing. He reached the phone and said a
breathless,
‘Hello?’

‘Grandpa, it’s me.’

‘Thomas, my boy, how are you?’ Stanley’s breathlessness and
tiredness were long forgotten, as he revelled in the rare phone call from his
only grandson.

‘I’m good, Grandpa, how are you?’

‘Oh, you know, not bad, son. So what have you been up to?’

‘I have something to tell you. I’m getting married.’

‘Aw, congratulations, son, that’s great news. When’s the big
day?’

‘Christmas Eve,’ Thomas informed him.

‘That’s next week!’

‘I know. It’s been a bit hectic getting everything
organised.’

Stanley sat down on his chair with the cordless phone and
said, ‘I would have loved to be there, son, but you know how things are.’

‘I do, Grandpa, and I really wanted you there,’ his grandson
admitted.

Stanley was touched.

‘That’s why we decided to get married in Scotland.’

‘What?’ Stanley almost fell off his chair. ‘You’re coming
here?’

‘Yep. Catherine and I decided we wanted to get married on
Loch Lomond, even though it will be freezing,’ he said.

‘Oh son, I can’t believe it. That’s fantastic news! When are
you coming?’

‘Our flight’s the day after tomorrow. We’re going to see the
New Year in in Scotland, too.’

‘You don’t know how happy you’ve just made me,’ Stanley
said, openly weeping now.

‘Grandpa, don’t cry. I think Mum and Dad would have wanted
this, too. We hoped we could spend Christmas Day with you, before we spend a
bit of time on our Scottish honeymoon.’

‘That would be wonderful.’ Stanley could barely get the
words out, tears flowing openly down his face.

Once the details had been discussed, Stanley hung up and
cast his eyes skywards. ‘Thank you, Edie.’

He knew his angel had looked after him - now he wouldn’t be
alone this Christmas.

‘I managed to get everything on the list.’ Sophie handed a
bunch of receipts and invoices to Meredith, as well as a bundle of gifts. As
per Meredith’s instructions she’d also bought masses of fancy silver and gold
wrapping paper, bows, ribbons, and more gift wrapping paraphernalia than she
had thought one person could ever need. Personalised cards had also been
created and only needed Meredith to include her special message inside each
one.

‘I didn’t doubt it,’ Meredith smiled at her and Sophie
almost passed out from the shock.

Meredith knew how to smile? She must really be ill.

‘Thanks for this,’ Meredith gestured to the bundles beside
her.

It took all of Sophie’s resolve for her legs not to give way
beneath her.

‘No problem,’ she said, returning Meredith’s smile. It felt
a bit weird, smiling at Cruella, but for some reason also kind of right. She
was a diminished Cruella right now; almost human.

19th December

‘This arrived for you.’ Amelia placed a box on Meredith’s
bedside table.

‘What is it?’ Meredith asked, furrowing her brow. She wasn’t
expecting anything. Sophie had bought everything she’d requested and nothing
was being delivered directly here, just in case it was intercepted by nosy
children.

‘No idea. Courier just dropped it off.’

Meredith undid the voluminous transparent wrapping paper
which housed a pale pink box. Peering closely at it, she saw the box was
emblazoned with the logo, Sugar and Spice. Opening it, she saw a selection of
miniature cakes. An envelope lay on top. Meredith opened the envelope, took out
the note it contained, read it and smiled.

Since you can’t come to us, we didn’t
want you to miss out on our Christmas cakes. Here are miniature versions of
those you’ve missed. Get well soon, Natalie and Jacob.

Meredith reread the note and then noticed it was wet.
Confused, she suddenly realised it was from tears that had fallen from her.
People can be very good
, she thought. She dried her eyes,
picked up the box and headed downstairs to share the cakes with her family.

Stanley admired himself in the mirror. He had been all for
wearing his kilt, but had spoken to George the night before, who had advised
him that might make him a tad overdressed, particularly as their party was
during the day. Stanley had conceded that was true and had chosen instead a
navy blazer and teamed that with a pair of smart navy trousers. His tie was
gold and navy, and he combed his hair until he deemed himself presentable. For
some reason it felt of paramount importance that he make an effort. Edie would
be watching.

Another manic day at Sugar and Spice. Tabitha had been in to
sample some of the Christmas cakes, moaning Jacob never brought her any home,
but in reality to get her out of the house and mixing with people. She had
registered with the medical practice and the midwife in the town, as a first
crucial step to moving in permanently with her brother. Neither Tabitha nor
Jacob felt the need to inform their parents. It wasn’t as if they were in
regular contact and the last e-mail had indicated they would spend Christmas in
Dubai, courtesy of Sheik Rashid bin Khalifa. Tabitha hadn’t even seen fit to
tell her parents they were to become grandparents. She couldn’t bear the
thought of the lecture, and she didn’t exactly expect them to be ecstatic, so
she felt it was fair enough to let them wait.

As Meredith observed Amelia with her youngest son, the
obvious bond between them melted her usually icy heart.
She
really does have it all figured out, doesn’t she?

As the three of them munched on some of the miniature cakes,
the adults exclaiming how divine they were and Max voicing
Yum!
occasionally, Meredith began to realise she didn’t want to go back to the way
things had been before. It was time to make some changes, drastic ones.

At Crilly’s Hotel, the pensioners’ Christmas party was in
full swing. The caterers had excelled themselves and Cathy and her team had
arrived earlier that day to decorate the function suite with Christmas banners,
balloons, baubles and even a
piñata
- old people were
just like children - they enjoyed party games, although musical chairs was
obviously out, as some would have issues getting out of the chairs at all, and
the game would last an exceedingly long time. They did, however, manage Pass
the Parcel. The strains of forties and fifties music could be heard coming from
the hotel’s sound system. Cathy and Betty had made it their business to get it
right, by asking the pensioners over the course of the past ten days who their
favourite musicians were.

Lunch was grander than their usual affair at the club, even
though the quality there was also pretty good - Cathy and her gang made sure of
that. But the caterers really had done a first class job. Quails eggs on toast;
chicken liver paté with oatcakes, or smoked salmon, made up the starters.
Turkey with all the trimmings, roast lamb with winter vegetables and roast
potatoes, or ham with the same accompaniments constituted the main event. The
dessert menu consisted of homemade apple pie, for those with a less adventurous
palate; white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake, or sticky toffee and date
pudding with lashings of creamy custard.

After lunch Stanley and his friends sang along and those who
were able to, danced, to their heroes and heroines. Ella Fitzgerald, Duke
Ellington, Bing Crosby’s
White Christmas
, Billie
Holiday, Frank Sinatra, Peggy Lee and Perry Como were some of those who brought
back happy memories. For Stanley’s part, the song which reminded him most of
Edie was Frank Sinatra’s
I’ve Got You Under My Skin
,
and as he watched men and women dance to it, he smiled and remembered how she
had looked then. Beautiful - with her poodle cut she’d reminded him of Audrey
Hepburn in Roman Holiday. He preferred to think of her now as she had been as a
young woman and not the older one who had been ravaged by the disease that had
ultimately taken her. They had shared so many good times and Stanley knew he
was a lucky man. He hoped with all his heart that his grandson and his
bride-to-be could have even half the happiness he had experience with his
beloved wife.

At Amelia’s, Meredith was scribbling away in a small notebook
she carried in her bag. A picture was forming in her mind of how the future
could be, if she let go of the reins even a little. Some time for herself would
be a good start. Maybe eventually she’d entertain the idea of someone special
in her life again. Witnessing the harmony amid the bedlam of her sister’s home,
Meredith had come to realise that she wasn’t quite so against disorder as she
had first thought. It had its place. Although she couldn’t quite reconcile
herself to the idea of having children, and quite frankly she was probably too
old now, she could still have a family life; she could be a more hands-on aunt
and what better time to start than Christmas? Amelia had already made it clear
Meredith wouldn’t be going back to her own flat until the New Year, and if she
tried, Amelia would put in a call to her doctor, who would recommend she go
back into hospital.

Suddenly Meredith was looking forward to Christmas,
imagining what it would be like watching the children open their presents,
their little excited faces when they asked if Santa had been. Of course, the
older two knew that Santa didn’t exist, but Edward and Max were still little
enough to believe.

Meredith sketched out some ideas for the company - nothing
to stress her out. If anything, she was sure the doctor would approve. Even
putting pen to paper in this way seemed to make any remaining stress flow out
of her; the exercise in itself was cathartic.

You were never too old to receive a present from Santa, it
appeared. Not all of the money raised for the party had been spent, so Cathy
had decided they should buy each of the members a small gift, nothing fancy, just
a wee minding. Stanley was delighted with his book about Scottish birds. It had
been a long time since he’d done any serious bird-watching, but perhaps next
year. With free bus travel throughout Scotland, he could take a day trip
somewhere and see if he could spot some of the rarer birds in his book.
Receiving his present reminded Stanley he still had to wrap the gifts he had
bought for his grandson and Catherine.

They were arriving later that night, but they would meet up
with him only the next day, Thomas had explained on the phone, as their flight
landed at eleven. That would give Stanley plenty of time to wrap their presents
and have some nice things in for lunch when they called round. He hadn’t been
to Sugar and Spice for a while. He’d pick up some nice bread and some cakes
there in the morning, but right now, it was time for his brain to re-join the
party.

Cathy was walking around with a box and everyone was taking
a piece of paper from it. Intrigued, Stanley reached his hand in when the box
came to him. He opened his piece of paper and saw the phrase ‘doon the water’.

‘What I’d like you all to do is tell us a story from your
life, or an event that has happened to you, related to the word or phrase on
your piece of paper. I’ll give you a few minutes to have a think about it,’
Cathy beamed at them all.

Some of the pensioners looked puzzled until Cathy said,
‘C’mon you lot, you’ve all been around for a long time. There must be at least
one story that fits!’

At this the old folk began to laugh. Stanley studied the
piece of paper again and cast his mind back to 1947. The Waverley paddle
steamer; a splendid vessel - the last of its kind, as it turned out. They’d
caught it from Craigendoran in Helensburgh across to Arrochar on Loch Long.
Such a glorious day - not a cloud in the sky. The sun made the ripples in the
water flash like jewels, but not quite as much as the diamond before him - his
Edie. He had joked with her over her choice of clothing, a dress to go on the
Waverley - she’d be soaked. She didn’t care. She had got drenched but had
laughed it off. So it was that Stanley, to an incredibly damp Edie, had got
down on one knee and produced a small navy velvet box. Edie’s hand had flown to
her throat in shock, then she had gazed into Stanley’s eyes, as she waited for
him to ask her the question.

‘Will you marry me, Edie?’

‘Yes, yes and three times, yes!’ They had clung to each
other and had kissed passionately as onlookers cheered. They’d left the
Waverley with their arms around each other’s waists.

Over the years they’d been on The Waverley many times and
had traversed on all its routes. But none of the occasions had ever been as
special as that day. The last time they had sailed on her had been the year
before, a round trip from Glasgow to Tighnabruaich. Edie had known that would
be her last trip, but instead of being sorrowful about it, she embraced it,
almost becoming for a second that girl from 1947.

As Stanley told his story, there wasn’t a dry eye in the
room.

20th December

‘Grandpa!’ Thomas hugged his grandfather, who clung on a
little tighter than was necessary.

Stanley took Thomas’s face in his hands and kissed him on
both cheeks. ‘You look just like your father.’

‘I know, everyone’s always telling me so.’

‘He was a fine-looking man.’

‘Yeah, he was.’

‘Catherine, my dear. You look wonderful, even better than in
the photographs.’

‘Thanks, lovely to meet you, Mr Winters.’

‘Oh, please call me Stanley. We don’t stand on ceremony
around here. Talking of which, tell me about this wedding of yours whilst I
make us a wee bite to eat. Sandwiches OK?’

‘You don’t need to bother, Grandpa. We can grab something
later.’ Thomas didn’t want his grandfather to go to any trouble.

‘Nonsense, it’s not every day your only grandson comes to
visit you, and better still arranges to get married on your doorstep. Roast
beef, cheese or ham?’

Thomas and Catherine both plumped for roast beef and Stanley
whistled as he prepared the sandwiches and put the kettle on to boil. The cakes
from Sugar and Spice he presented on a little silver cake rack Edie had always
loved.

As they ate lunch in Stanley’s tiny dining room, the happy
couple told him all about the plans for their wedding on Loch Lomond and
informed him that they would be staying at Aberlomond House Hotel. Stanley
thought he might get the use of his kilt this year after all.

Rebecca had been glad she was only working a half day, as it
meant she could have a lie-in. The postman woke her around ten and she lay
under the covers basking in the fact she didn’t need to get up just yet.
Eventually, her needing the loo overcame her desire to stay in bed and she
ventured out, picking up her letters from the mat in the hall onto which they
had fallen.  Electricity bill, mobile phone bill, credit card bill, wait a
minute, The Melbourne Gallery. Her heart racing, Rebecca held the envelope to
her, almost scrunching it up in the process. This was it - yes or no. A major
change in her life, or the usual humdrum job for the foreseeable future.
Rebecca opened the envelope. Nestling inside on The Melbourne Gallery headed
paper, complete with navy embossed logo, was a single sheet of A4, followed by
a thick document.

Dear Miss Cowan

Further to your recent interview and
after careful consideration of an extensive candidate list...
Rebecca’s
heart sank. She hadn’t got it. There had been too many other well-qualified
candidates. Steeling herself, she read on,
‘we are delighted
to offer you the position as Assistant Manager of The Melbourne Gallery. Please
call Mr Melbourne directly to arrange a start date. Your contract is enclosed.
Please read your terms and conditions carefully, sign and date both copies and
return one copy to us in the envelope provided.

Yours faithfully

Janine Burns (PA to Dominic Melbourne)

She’d got it! She’d got it! She couldn’t believe it. Dancing
around the living room, waving the letter in the air, Rebecca almost hurdled
the coffee table. She jumped up and down on the sofa, then bounced off and
immediately called Hannah. 

A gurgling noise came over the phone. ‘Hannah? Are you
gargling with mouthwash or something?’

‘No, I’m in Glasgow, just heading into the underground. How
you doing?’

‘Fan-bloody-tastic! I got the job! I got the bloody job!’

‘Becks, that’s fantastic! Well done. I knew you could do
it.’

‘I can’t believe it.’ Rebecca still had difficulty taking it
in.

‘Well, you deserve it. Congratulations. Listen, I can’t hear
you that well. I’ll call you later, so we can go celebrate.’

‘No worries.’ Rebecca hung up and stared again at the letter.
Here was real cause for celebration. She had two calls to make. One to Dominic
and the second to Ethan. She wanted to keep the flat now. With the extra
salary, she could afford it.

You couldn’t move in Sugar and Spice for exhausted shoppers
laden down with overflowing shopping bags. Jacob and Natalie were rushed off
their feet, but they were in fine festive spirit, and so it seemed were the
tired shoppers. Only five more days until Christmas. Jacob was going to have to
buy Tabitha’s present on Sunday, as it was his only day off. He decided he
ought to buy a gift for Natalie, too, but what? And it wasn’t as if he was
flush with cash, and what if she felt awkward if she hadn’t bought him
something? But they were such a team, the two of them, so he wanted to buy her
a little something.

Natalie was overjoyed; everything was coming together.
Rebecca had popped in earlier and sworn her to secrecy as she picked up a
coffee and a piece of cake to go. She’d got the job and said Sugar and Spice
had been instrumental in her applying in the first place. Rebecca couldn’t
thank Natalie enough. Her face radiating with happiness, it was clear that this
step up was exactly what she had needed.

Stanley, too, had been in earlier to buy some Irish soda
bread and some slices of the day’s Christmas cake -
bolo
polana
- a cake made from potatoes and cashew nuts, native to
Mozambique, and which tasted much better than it sounded, Natalie assured him.

When prompted by Natalie, he’d talked at length about how
great the old folks’ Christmas party had been. Everyone had deemed it the best
Christmas party they’d ever had. They’d all been a little bit tiddled later on,
but no-one had been arrested, he’d joked. Stanley had gone on to tell them that
his grandson had come over from Canada for Christmas and that wasn’t all, he
was getting married here on Christmas Eve. It warmed Natalie’s heart to see how
the old man’s face glowed and how the good news had shaved ten years off his
age. He’d promised to tell the soon-to-be newly-weds about Sugar and Spice and
hoped they would come by and try out some more of the speciality cakes.

The Christmas tree was still going strong and the items which
adorned it continued to draw comments of approval and questions as to their
origin from the bakery’s patrons. Two gifts had materialised underneath it.
Jacob noticed them but said nothing. On Sunday he’d buy his own.

‘Ethan, I can’t believe you,’ Rebecca almost screamed down
the phone. ‘It’s only been a few days. You know how much I love that flat. I
had to convince you it was the right one for us. You weren’t even that
bothered. Can’t you just speak to the lawyer and put it on hold until I can
speak to mine?’ Rebecca cajoled.

‘It’s too late, and anyway, I can’t just chop and change to
suit you. I’m glad you got your promotion. Really, I’m pleased for you, but
just let the flat go.’

Rebecca, deflated, hung up.
Thanks,
Ethan, you know just how to burst my bubble, as always.

A day that should have been full only of celebration had now
been tinged by disappointment. She knew Ethan; once his mind was made up, there
was no changing it.