Читать книгу Last Christmas - Julia Williams - Страница 10

The Saturday before school had started, Marianne walked with a heavy heart from the little cottage she rented at the south end of the village, down Hope Christmas High Street. Even passing Diana Carew’s house wasn’t enough to cheer her up. Diana’s garden was filled with a huge plastic Santa and several gnomes, and her house was a blaze of flashing reindeer even during the daytime. Marianne turned the letter in her hand over and over again. It was the means by which she could flee Hope Christmas, go back to her old life. A life that didn’t include Luke. Was that what she wanted? Could she really bear that? Once she left, there would be no turning back. But the thought of never seeing him, never touching him, never hearing him laugh or seeing him turn on that dazzling smile that had made her feel like a million dollars. Never to do any of that again. How could she stay here and be reminded every day of what she’d lost?

Part of her wanted to run home to her mum and escape the pain of walking down the High Street every day and risking bumping into Luke or running into his mother on the rare occasions she strayed into Hope Christmas to visit the beauty salon. All Marianne had to do was post this job application to the primary school in Hendon, where a teaching friend from her London days assured her they were crying out for good staff, and then she could look forward to being back home where she belonged. She had to accept it. Luke had been a mistake. Moving to Hope Christmas an even bigger one.

It was a grey dull day. The clear skies of late December had given way to a glowering gloomy January, with dark snow clouds obscuring the hills for most of the day completely, in keeping with her mood. Marianne had never felt so cold in her life. It was a cold that sapped her strength and seemed to reach somewhere into the core of her being. Even the sight of Miss Woods, the erstwhile head of Hope Christmas primary, whizzing precariously down the High Street on her mobile scooter, flag flapping in the breeze, failed to amuse. Although watching Miss Woods hit a corner too fast and oversteer to compensate, causing the large plastic canopy that covered her mean machine to wobble alarmingly, did draw a small smile. There would be things to miss in Hope Christmas, and the eccentricity of characters like Miss Woods was one of them.

Vera Campion at the post office was another. Always there with a ready smile behind the counter, offering hope and cheer to all the inhabitants of the village, especially the elderly, her shy kindly nature—not to mention her short-sightedness—reminded Marianne of a mole. One who was a force of great good for the whole village.

‘Marianne, how lovely to see you,’ Vera greeted her, but her smile didn’t look quite as genuine as normal. ‘What can I do for you today?’

‘A book of first-class stamps, please, Vera.’ Marianne handed over the money and looked at Vera again. She seemed very agitated. Marianne wasn’t normally one to interfere in other people’s lives, but Vera had been immensely kind to her since she’d come to Hope Christmas, and Marianne didn’t like to see her like this. ‘Vera, I hope you don’t mind me prying, but are you okay?’

‘Oh dear,’ said Vera. ‘Is it that obvious? I’ve just heard that they want to close me down. It’s a government initiative, they say. We’re not profitable enough apparently. From the summer all postal services are to be moved to Ludlow.’

‘But that’s terrible!’ exclaimed Marianne. ‘How will all your old folk get their pensions?’

Vera’s ‘old folk’ formed the core of her customers, and she protected their interests with the fierceness of a mother hen.

‘Exactly,’ replied Vera. ‘And what about the village as a whole? Along with the pub, the post office is the centre of our community. Without it we’ll be lost. But they say that with the building of the eco town, which is nearer to Ludlow, people won’t want to come here for their post, they’ll just get in their cars and drive instead.’

‘Very eco friendly,’ remarked Marianne. ‘Isn’t there anything you can do?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Vera. ‘But I do know I’m not going down without a fight. Mr Edwards said I should start a campaign.’

Vera blushed at the mention of Mr Edwards. It was not a very well kept secret in Hope Christmas that she nurtured feelings for the church organist but whether he was the only person in the village not to know, or whether he was too shy to approach her, so far Vera’s passion remained unrequited.

‘That’s a great idea,’ said Marianne.

‘Perhaps you could help?’

‘Oh, I’d love to,’ stammered Marianne. ‘But I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be here.’

‘Are you leaving us then?’ Vera looked disappointed and Marianne felt a pang that someone actually cared. Despite what had happened with Luke, she had started to put down roots here. Luke hadn’t been the only draw for coming to the country. From the moment Marianne had first come to Hope Christmas she’d fallen in love. The village, with its quaint high street with pretty little shops full of knickknacks and fabulous old-fashioned bookshop, its square complete with farmers’ market, and its tumbledown workers’ cottages was everything she’d hoped for from living in the country. The friendliness, the warmth of the school she taught in, the kids she taught—and Pippa, she would miss Pippa. And the longer she’d stayed the more she loved it. It would be hard to tear herself away.

‘Maybe,’ said Marianne, trying to sound vague. The post office wasn’t just the hub of the village, it was the main source of gossip. She didn’t really want the whole world to be discussing her business.

Making a hurried excuse, Marianne rushed out of the shop, meaning to march straight to the post box and post her well-worn envelope.

‘Oh—’ Someone was coming in as she was coming out. And they got rather entangled.

‘Marianne, my dear, how lovely to see you.’

Oh lord. Did Luke’s grandfather have to walk by just now? A reminder that getting out of Hope Christmas was going to be essential for her sanity if she was ever to get over Luke.

‘Er, hello.’ Marianne still hadn’t quite figured out how she should address her erstwhile grandfather-in-law—wasn’t he a lord or something?—and now they weren’t to be related by marriage, she felt even more awkward.

‘How are you, my dear?’ The kindness in Ralph Nicholas’ voice took her by surprise.

‘Not too bad, thanks,’ said Marianne.

‘If it’s any consolation, which I know it won’t be,’ Ralph continued, ‘I think my grandson is an utter fool for letting you go, and I’ve said so.’

‘Erm, thanks.’ Blimey. That was unexpected. Luke’s mum, who had always looked as though she were sucking lemons when she met Marianne, couldn’t have appeared more relieved by the turn of events if she’d tried.

‘I hope the actions of one Nicholas won’t be enough to drive you out of town,’ Ralph was continuing. ‘I think the school would struggle to replace such a talented teacher as you. I thought that you wanted to make a difference.’

Now he’d touched a nerve. Marianne had got so fed up teaching in London schools where the class sizes had seemed impossibly large. Coming to teach in Hope Christmas village school had been a joy. For the first time in her teaching career she really felt she had the time to do the job she loved properly.

‘I did—I do,’ said Marianne. ‘Actually, I was thinking of moving on. I’ve got a job application to post.’

‘Pity,’ said Ralph. ‘I think you could do a lot of good in this village. Not least by helping poor Vera out. Still, if you’re determined to leave…’

He looked at her so directly and clearly, she almost felt he was stripping her soul bare. Which was absurd as she barely knew him. But she felt her resolve crumble a little. She did like it here. Maybe she shouldn’t rush off home the minute something went wrong. That’s what her mum always expected her to do.

As if mirroring her thoughts, Ralph added, ‘And don’t you think it would be better to face out the situation, rather than running away from it? After all, you’re not the one who’s done anything wrong.’

He smiled at her and doffed his hat, before continuing into the post office and greeting Vera. ‘Ah, Vera, a packet of your finest Werther’s Originals if you please.’

Marianne stared after him open mouthed. Perhaps Ralph was right. Perhaps she should stay. Help Vera with the campaign. Keep teaching the kids she loved. Pay Pippa back for being such a good friend. Show Luke what he was missing…

She turned the envelope over once more, then crumpled it up and stuffed it back in her pocket. She still hadn’t quite made up her mind, but maybe Hope Christmas deserved another chance. And, maybe, so did she.

‘Cat, are you in?’ Noel walked through the door on Friday night and was met by an eerie silence. The hall light was on, but the rest of the house was dark. Odd. He didn’t recall Cat saying that the kids were doing anything tonight. Mind you, she was always accusing him of not paying any attention to their activities, so perhaps she had mentioned it and he’d forgotten.

He went down the stairs to the basement kitchen, turning on lights as he went. The house was as quiet as the grave without the children. Much as the constant noise and chaos grated on him sometimes, it was better than this funereal silence. Where was everyone?

There was a note on the kitchen table in Cat’s writing.

Noel,

I tried you on your mobile but it was switched off again. (Funny how such a simple sentence could bristle with so much hidden antagonism. Cat was always on at him to turn his mobile on, but he hated being in constant communication with the world, so turned it off unless forced not to. And, whenever he did ring, Cat always seemed to be engaged so he’d long given up trying.) Magda cut her finger chopping up vegetables—Noel’s eye was suddenly drawn to a pool of blood on the floor by the sink—so I’ve taken her to hospital.

Mel on sleepover, Regina has everyone else. Back as soon as I can get away.

Love Cat

x

Right. So now, instead of settling down with a well earned beer and a rerun of Top Gear on Dave, Noel was going to have to drag the kids away from Regina, their saintly and wonderful neighbour, probably feed them, put them to bed, then wait on his tod till Cat and Magda made it back from Homerton, which from their many experiences of family trips to Casualty could be anything up to several hours. He’d been looking forward to curling up with Cat on the sofa. Magda was normally out with her disreputable Russian boyfriend, Sergei, whom Noel darkly suspected was part of the Russian mafia. Bloody Magda. She ruined everything. Her life seemed to be one perpetual crisis—if she wasn’t homesick, she’d had a row with the boyfriend. She had to be the most useless (and sulky) au pair they’d ever had.

Noel left a message on Cat’s mobile and then went next door to round up his children.

‘Noel,’ said Regina warmly, letting him in, ‘do you fancy a drink? The kids are all fed, and Ali’s just come home.’

‘Regina, you are an angel sent from heaven, thank you so much,’ said Noel. ‘It’s been a hell of a week.’

He poked his head into Regina’s playroom where two of his offspring were sharing a sofa with Regina’s two youngest, watching MI High.

‘James?’ he asked.

‘With Joel on the Wii,’ said Regina.

Satisfied that everyone was quite happy he made his way down to the basement kitchen, which was a mirror image of his own and Cat’s, and sat down with his neighbours, reflecting how lucky he and Cat were to have such good mates on their doorstep. Life with four children and a working wife would be impossible otherwise.

‘Thanks for this, you two,’ he said, as he sipped his beer. ‘And sorry to dump on you. Again. I don’t know what we pay Magda for. It’s certainly not to look after the kids. She’s more of a liability than all of ours put together.’

‘No problem,’ said Regina. ‘Cat’s helped me out more times than I care to mention. It’s what friends are for.’

Noel stayed for one more beer, before regretfully deciding he’d better get his charges home. It took him half an hour to round everyone up, and Ruby was only persuaded to go if he promised piggyback rides, but eventually they were through their own front door. Noel made a unilateral decision to dispense with baths that night, and packed the little ones off to bed while he went to prepare something for Cat, Magda and himself to eat.

Top Gear was over by the time he’d finished cooking and cleaning up the mess Magda had left behind. He felt a smidgeon of guilt at the thought that she might actually have hurt herself, but quickly put it away. Magda had cried wolf on so many occasions, he doubted very much that it would turn out to be more than a scratch. He chased James up to bed and turned over to Have I Got News For You. There was still no word from Cat. How long did it take to stitch up a finger?

He rang Cat’s mobile again but got no reply. In the end, he ate alone in front of the news. He had just dozed off when the phone rang.

‘Sorry, I only just got your message,’said Cat. ‘We’ve been stuck in A&E forever and Magda was so hysterical I couldn’t leave. But she’s being bandaged now, so I hope we won’t be too much longer.’

‘Oh, okay,’ said Noel, feeling somewhat disappointed. ‘Your dinner’s in the oven.’

‘Thanks. I’m really sorry about this.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ said Noel. ‘Bloody Magda.’

‘Very bloody at the moment as it happens,’ said Cat. ‘I’ve never seen so much, in fact.’

‘That’s not fair. Now I feel guilty,’ said Noel. ‘Is she going to be okay?’

‘Don’t,’ said Cat. ‘She’s going to be fine. I, on the other hand, am going completely bonkers. I’ll try not to be too much longer.’

‘I’ll try to stay up without falling asleep,’ said Noel. A depressing feature of his mid forties was his uncanny ability to nod off on the sofa. He barely ever saw the end of films anymore.

‘If I’m not back in half an hour, go to bed,’ said Cat.

‘I’ll keep it warm for you,’ he replied.

‘You’d better,’ she laughed, and the phone went dead.

Noel breathed a heavy sigh. All thoughts of a cosy evening were gone forever. It was nearly eleven, he may as well go to bed right now, otherwise he definitely would be asleep on the sofa by the time she got in.

Cat went back inside the brightly lit A&E department and sat down on the incredibly hard chair she had spent most of the evening on. Did the person in the NHS responsible for chairs have a particularly sadistic streak, she wondered? Every chair she had ever sat on, in every hospital she’d ever been in, had been incredibly uncomfortable, and usually she’d had to sit on it for hours. She glanced at her watch. It was gone ten thirty. What a waste of a bloody evening. She’d been planning to spend it cuddled up with Noel on the sofa, conscious she’d spent far too many evenings glued to the computer of late.

Trust Magda to manage to slice her finger to the bone. Cat hadn’t realised any of her knives were sharp enough. If it had been anyone else, anyone at all, Cat would have felt sorry for her, but Magda’s litany of woes and trauma had left her all empathised out, and, while she had felt duty-bound to sit her down and wrap up the finger after Magda had come round from fainting at the sight of her own blood, Cat had taken her to the hospital while gritting her teeth. It was the only decent thing to do, but for once Cat wished she didn’t always feel obliged to do the decent thing and had the audacity to tell Magda to either get useless Sergei to take her in his shiny motor, or send her off in a taxi. In the end, Magda’s look of woe, and the sudden flash-forward she’d had to Mel in a few years time, hurt and alone in a foreign country, had been enough to make her rearrange her life at lightning speed. Sometimes having a conscience was a damned inconvenience.

Twenty minutes later Magda emerged, her finger bandaged thickly, her arm in a sling, milking the moment for all it was worth by flirting outrageously with the house officer who’d been unfortunate enough to be assigned to her. He looked so completely overwhelmed, Cat immediately felt sorry for him. Magda was a force to be reckoned with.

‘Doctor says I must not work for week,’ announced Magda. ‘Very bad for finger. Cleaning. Ironing. I must not do.’

‘I bet he does,’ murmured Cat, thinking frantically ahead to the next week. How many meetings did she have? And could she cancel any of them? She had a feeling Magda’s poorly finger was going to prevent her from doing anything remotely like the job Cat had been paying her to do for the last six months. She wished she had the nerve to sack Magda, but trying to find a replacement at short notice was going to be nigh on impossible. Cat was having enough trouble juggling all the demands on her with the cookery book she was working on, as well as the blog and the regular column. She simply couldn’t afford to lose Magda—even a useless au pair was better than no au pair. She’d just have to bite her lip and put up with it.

Cat drove silently through the drably dark inner-London streets, not having the energy to strike up a conversation. Even at this late hour it was hideously busy. Cat screamed to a halt behind a night bus disgorging revellers who’d obviously been living it up in town, reminding her of how her life used to be when she wasn’t weighed down with the cares of the world. How she envied those young men and women spilling out onto the streets, living their carefree lives of partying and a kebab before bedtime.

Once that had been the way her weekend was too. Once a lifetime ago. Now it was reduced to trips to Casualty with useless au pairs and returning to find the house in darkness. Magda declined the offer of the food Noel had prepared for them and disappeared to her room to hold excitable conversations in Latvian.

Cat sighed. She didn’t feel all that hungry now. She put Noel’s cold offerings in the fridge, and made her way upstairs. Deep snoring from her bedroom indicated that Noel was already in the land of nod. They had so little time together. And now they’d lost another precious evening. Sometimes Cat worried they would end up having nothing to say to each other by the time the children eventually left home.

She went into the children’s rooms, picking up toys, smoothing over duvets and, in Ruby’s case, planting a kiss on her cheek. Paige and James both thought they were too big for kisses, and, though once or twice she’d stealthily managed to sneak kisses on them when they were asleep, James had a tendency to roll over and shout ‘Gerroff!’ and Paige had been known to sit up in a semi-wakeful state and balefully declare, ‘You do not kiss me, ever!’ before falling back to sleep again. Cat stood and looked at them and allowed a blissful contentment to steal over her. Despite the stresses of her day, the sight of her children asleep could never fail to lighten her heart. As an only child she’d always longed for the hustle and bustle of a big family. At moments like this it actually felt worth it.

Satisfied that her children were all well, she snuck back to her husband and undressed silently in the darkness. Noel’s snoring had slowed down to more rhythmic breathing. She knew from past experience that he was so deeply asleep he’d need a bomb to wake him up. The feelings of contentment dissipated as she climbed into bed next to him. Noel moved towards her in his sleep, but otherwise didn’t stir. Cat shut her eyes feeling defeated and lost. One day her life would run on an even keel. One day…

Gabriel strode through the frosty fields that clung around the edges of the hills surrounding Hope Christmas, a cold wind whipping through him. One of his sheep had gone missing and he’d been up early looking for her. Pippa, as ever, had stepped into the breach with Stephen but, having found his errant sheep stuck flat on her back in a ditch, her pregnancy making it difficult for her to get up, Gabriel was now in a hurry to get back so he could at least take Stephen to school. Some days he found the weight of responsibility so crushing he didn’t know how much longer he could stagger under it.

‘If you still had a proper job…’ Eve had been wont to cry. She never fully understood what had prompted him to ‘drop everything’, as she put it, and leave his comfortable job as a marketing consultant, which he had loathed, to retrain at agricultural college so he could take over the running of the farm from his father. How to explain that it was in his blood? He’d grown up farming sheep and had only left it behind because his parents feared for the future of their industry and had wanted him to have a job with more security. But Gabriel had never really taken to city life and had always known that one day he’d go back. When his parents announced their retirement it seemed like the perfect time to do so. He’d loved it from the first, but Eve had never settled.

‘If you could be a proper wife…’ had often been on his lips, but he’d never been cruel enough to say it. Eve, his poor little Evie, couldn’t help who or what she was. She’d never been cut out for country living and found the life oppressive. Everyone had warned him he couldn’t change her, but Gabriel had been too stubborn to listen, and now he was paying the price.

Where was she? How was she managing without him? He hadn’t heard from her in weeks and the sense of loss was still so raw that the pain caught him short sometimes, and he’d find himself blinking away sudden tears that came when he least expected them. Shit. He had to be stronger about this. Stephen needed him. Gabriel couldn’t afford to let him down.

Mind you, sometimes his son showed such astonishing strength, Gabriel had to pinch himself to work out who was the child and who was the parent. Stephen seemed to have a knack for knowing just when Gabriel was hurting most, and would sometimes come up and hold his hand, and say, ‘It’s okay, Dad’ in a way that tore at Gabriel’s heart. It was at such moments Gabriel’s sympathies for Eve’s suffering would evaporate and be replaced with cold, harsh fury. How could she have done this to them?

The fury returned briefly as Gabriel strode across the frozen wastes of the land thinking of the life that he’d so badly wanted to share with her. It didn’t seem fair. None of it did.

‘I think you’ll find life isn’t very fair,’ a voice greeted Gabriel, as he approached the stile leading to the lane that ran down the side of his house.

‘What?’ Gabriel jerked himself back to the real world to find himself staring into the welcoming smile of Ralph Nicholas, out walking his dog. Where had he sprung from so suddenly and silently?

‘Jeez. I must be going mad,’ said Gabriel. ‘I’m talking to myself now. Sorry.’

‘No matter,’ said Ralph. ‘I know you have a lot to deal with.’

‘How?’ Gabriel was a little more belligerent than he meant to be. He was uncomfortably aware that his family situation was the talk of the town and hated being the centre of attention. He’d barely ever spoken to Ralph Nicholas, who hardly spent any time in Hope Christmas anymore. How on earth did he know what was going on in Gabriel’s life?

‘There’s not much that happens in this village that I don’t know about,’said Ralph.‘Incidentally,do you think it unfair when a fox gets one of your sheep?’

‘No,’ said Gabriel, ‘because I do everything I can to prevent that. If a fox catches a sheep, it’s usually bad luck.’

‘And if you’ve done everything you can to help your wife,’ said Ralph, ‘don’t you think you should just accept there’s nothing you can do for her? Some people cannot, or will not, be helped. It’s just bad luck.’

Gabriel looked at Ralph in astonishment. How had this relative stranger plumbed the depths of his heart so conclusively? He’d never even talked to Pippa about how he really felt about Eve.

‘I feel I’ve failed her,’ said Gabriel slowly. ‘I wanted to look after her and I couldn’t.’

‘But you can look after your son,’ pointed out Ralph. ‘I’ve always found a new hobby very helpful for a broken heart.’

‘I don’t have time for hobbies,’ said Gabriel.

‘Well, maybe it’s not a hobby you need,’ said Ralph. ‘But perhaps you could use the considerable talents you have for protection into something that you can do something about.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Look around you,’ said Ralph, encompassing Gabriel’s fields and the hills they bordered with a sweep of his arm. ‘We take all this for granted. Assume the immutability of it all. But nothing stays the same forever. In case you hadn’t noticed, Hope Christmas is under threat. There are moves afoot to change all this.’

‘What’s that got to do with me?’ said Gabriel. ‘What can I do?’

‘I’d say the post office is as good a place to start as any,’ said Ralph. He whistled loudly and his dog, a grey wolfhound, came lolloping up to them. ‘Best be off then,’ he said.

Gabriel walked on down the lane, shaking his head. He’d heard Ralph Nicholas was eccentric, but not that he was so utterly barking. What did that mad old man know anyway? No one was planning to do anything to Hope Christmas. Why would anyone want to destroy something as beautiful as this? Ralph Nicholas must have got it wrong. And, even if he hadn’t, Gabriel had enough problems right now without worrying about the future of his village.

Gabriel strode on down the lane to Pippa’s house, where Stephen was contentedly munching his Cheerios.

‘Shall I take them in today for you?’ he asked his cousin, who was looking distinctly harassed.

‘Would you?’ she said. ‘Lucy isn’t too well today. It would be a great help.’

‘It’s my pleasure,’ said Gabriel, and it was. He chased Stephen and his cousins down the lane to school, whooping and laughing as he pretended to be a monster chasing after them, and a pale weak winter sun emerged from behind the cold grey clouds. It gave him heart somehow. Maybe his future wasn’t so bleak after all.