Authors: Katie Fforde
‘Gina, there is no such thing as enough fairy lights. We’ll have eight sets.’ A quick phone call that guaranteed next day delivery and they went back to the garage.
‘Now,’ said Gina. ‘With the table in the middle and all the chairs round, there’ll still be a bit of empty space in the corners. You need Christmas trees.’
Sally shook her head. ‘I need white painted branches stuck in pots displaying my lovely crystal decorations. With fairy lights, obviously.’
‘Oh! And you’ve got those already, have you? That’s very
Blue Peter
of you, if I may say so.’ Gina was impressed.
Sally looked smug. ‘Actually I had to make some for the shop and I went on until I’d used all the stuff. After
all, the plaster of Paris would have had to be dumped anyway. But there was only room for two in the end.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s all right, Miss Honesty Box, Carmella didn’t want the extra ones. She was a bit annoyed there wasn’t room for more, though. That shop is a bit small really for some of the stuff she’s got in there. It’s not displayed to its best advantage.’ Sally snapped back to the job in hand. ‘Anyway, we get the benefit.’
When Gina fell into bed that night, she was exhausted and paint-spattered, but pleased with the result of their hard work. Sally had insisted in tiptoeing over the still-damp floor and setting up the Christmas trees. They were stunning.
‘All we need is a centre piece in the middle,’ Sally had declared. ‘Otherwise it’s all too bloody tasteful.’
As she headed for the shower the next day, Gina wondered what her sister had in mind. Sally was no minimalist.
CHRISTMAS DAY ARRIVED.
Matthew was going to collect Gina. It wasn’t really on his way but, as he said, there was no point in taking two cars and it would mean she could at least drink. They were to arrive at about midday to give the girls time to open some presents and have hysterics in private, Sally said.
So, thought Gina, wearing a towel and looking at the cardboard carry cases that she’d never got round to unpacking, what should she wear?
The trouble with Christmas was that it was quite hard to get the balance of practical and festive right. She needed to be able to schlep things in and out of the oven – she always shared responsibility for the meal with her sister – but she also wanted to look attractive.
Gina had stopped pretending – to herself at least – that she didn’t fancy Matthew. She did. And she wanted him to fancy her.
She ended up in black jeans with a fitted cardigan that showed off her waist and her cleavage – practical and sexy – and added a necklace of bright glass beads for the festive part.
Then, remembering where they were to have dinner, she found a looser cardigan to go on top and a scarf. Chattering teeth and blue lips was never a good look. She wasn’t absolutely convinced by the industrial heaters Sally was borrowing. She added a extra spritz of perfume to offset the less glamorous part of her outfit. Now she had to wrap Matthew’s present. Finding a Christmas gift for him had felt impossible. She didn’t want to be either over the top or mean. While she was looking she decided the problem wouldn’t have been much easier had she had loads of money – anything expensive would definitely be over the top. In the end she had bought something useful; she had got two dozen pencils printed with the name of the centre on them. They were very stylish, with rubbers at the end, plain wood with the printing in gold. She found a suitable pot (courtesy of one of the other dealers) and felt pleased with the result. It wasn’t something he could dislike even if he preferred pens. They were personal but neutral. Anyway, they would have to do.
When the pencils in their pot were duly, if untidily, wrapped and she was satisfied with her make-up she realised he’d be here at any moment. She thrust the organic dog biscuits she’d got for Oscar into a bottle carrier, stapled the top together and added a bow. Oscar’s present looked far classier than Matthew’s but there was nothing she could do about it now.
‘This is not a date,’ she told the mirror as she leant in, checking for surplus eyebrows, ‘it’s a family Christmas. He’s only coming because he didn’t get a better offer.’
She was concentrating so hard on breathing deeply and being calm that when he knocked she jumped. She pulled
open the door immediately, even though she was sure she should have waited a certain amount of time, so as not to seem too keen.
‘Happy Christmas,’ she said brightly.
‘Happy Christmas,’ he echoed and kissed her cheek.
She caught a whiff of cologne. He smelt divine and she was unexpectedly affected by it. ‘Get a grip,’ she ordered silently.
‘Shall I take your things? Oscar’s in the boot but these will be safe on the back seat.’
‘I took most of my presents and stuff over yesterday,’ she said. ‘This is just for you and Oscar.’
‘We’re honoured,’ he said gravely.
Gina had long since suspected that his gravity was often a disguise for amusement but she didn’t feel she could call him on it.
He opened the passenger door for her. ‘Hop in.’
‘I’ve brought a bottle of port and some cognac,’ he said as he started the engine and they pulled away from the kerb. ‘My contribution to the feast. I found a nice little book about Cézanne for Alaric – quite old but with charming notes – and for Sally one of those cut-glass scent bottles with bulbs and silk tassels.’
‘Oh, she’ll love that.’
‘The girls I struggled with a bit but we’ll see.’
‘As long as whatever you’ve got is far too old for them and is pink and sparkly, it’ll be fine.’
He laughed. ‘I’ve probably hit it on the head then. I’ve also brought a few tins of biscuits for anyone else who’s there.’
‘And what about me?’ said some imp using Gina’s voice. ‘Have you got me a present?’
He gave her one of his looks. ‘Of course. But I’m not going to tell you what it is, am I? It’s a surprise.’
Gina accepted this happily, and the fact that she seemed to have temporarily changed into a teenage girl going on a date with her crush.
‘I’m going to leave Oscar in the car until I’ve got the lay of the land a bit,’ said Matthew. ‘We don’t want the girls having hysterics immediately. Better to postpone it by half an hour at least.’
‘You’d be surprised. The girls are now really excited about having Oscar in their house. Alaric told them he was like the Gruffalo and wouldn’t hurt them. Which is true.’ Another similarity between master and dog thought Gina.
‘He certainly wouldn’t hurt them. In fact, what he’d like best is a quiet corner where he can lie down and snooze. He’s had a walk today and in spite of being huge, he doesn’t need much exercise.’
‘I’m sure Sally has it all in hand. She’s well into the Christmas spirit this year.’
Sally was bouncing around in the garden giving instructions before they’d even got out of the car. ‘Hello! Happy Christmas! We’re going straight into the garage if that’s all right. And, Matthew, we’ve lit the fire in the sitting room, so if Oscar would like to go there he won’t be disturbed.’
‘That’s very kind,’ said Matthew, kissing Sally’s cheek. ‘I’ll bring him in when we’ve had a chance to say hello.’
Gina did wonder if Sally was treating Oscar like the crotchety uncle but then realised she had her father-in-law for that role.
‘Come in, do,’ said Sally, who had been joined by her daughters. ‘I can’t wait for you to see everything!’
‘Gruf’lo,’ squeaked Sephie as she and Ariadne excitedly pointed at Oscar, who was peering out of the back window.
Sally led the little party towards the garage, the girls skipping along beside her. Gina almost broke into a skip herself.
Even though she’d been part of the transformation, Gina was amazed. It was like Santa’s Grotto with furniture. And up the far end, between the white painted branches (now decorated with baubles and yet more fairy lights) was a diorama. Sally had bought every single available chocolate creature and created a Nativity.
There were bears, kittens and rabbits propped up with cocktail sticks. Behind were giant gold foil bunnies and deer with bells round their necks. A choir of angels (six of them) supported the shepherds, who looked strangely like the angels only they had bits of wool and felt stuck on them. The Three Kings, once in the dreary garb of Father Christmas, were now bedecked with gold and silver and edible baubles. Their gifts, gold-covered chocolates, in three colours, were stuck to their midriffs.
There was a stable made of gingerbread, thatched with chocolate flakes and supported by Curly Wurlies. Icing sugar snow, sweets like jewels and flashing fairy lights added to the general exuberance. Even Mary and Joseph were made of chocolate. Only baby Jesus had once been a sugar pig, and lay in a manger borrowed from some generous Sylvanian Family.
‘Sally! I absolutely love it!’ exclaimed Gina, hugging her sister and jumping up and down. ‘It’s so kitsch it’s not true.’
‘I know! Alaric’s parents are going to hate it.’ Sally was just as excited. ‘I had such fun doing it. The girls were so
good. They made the snowflakes that are stuck to the wall and decorated the stable.’ She paused, aware of the tall, silent figure standing behind her sister. ‘What do you think, Matthew?’
‘I think it’s stupendous,’ he said. Gina checked for sarcasm but didn’t spot any. ‘And I definitely think we should have something like this at the centre next year.’
Both sisters were inspecting him very carefully by now but before they could decide if he was mocking them Alaric appeared wanting to know what they wanted to drink, reeling off a range of options, including punch.
Matthew opted for a glass of elderflower cordial which Gina seconded. Sally had hurried off to the kitchen to ‘check on something’, the girls in tow. Alaric followed his wife with their orders.
‘You’re not driving,’ said Matthew when they were alone. ‘You could have had the punch if you’d wanted.’
Gina looked up at him, touched again by his thoughtfulness. ‘I might have to drive the oven though. Sally and I always share it but with her in-laws coming she may hit the bottle a bit. Don’t blame her. They are not easy guests. I’ll move on to the hard stuff later, when I know it’s safe.’
‘You’re very close to your sister, aren’t you?’ he said.
Gina nodded. ‘We’re very lucky. We really like each other. I can’t imagine anything happening to change that.’
‘Goodness, full of the Christmas spirit and you haven’t even had your first glass of wine,’ said Matthew.
Gina and Matthew happened to be present when Alaric’s parents (the mad aunt had thankfully decided to visit a friend – ‘One less pedant,’ Sally had whispered to Gina)
came into the garage. Although she pretended she wanted to shock them and part of her did, Gina knew that Sally secretly hoped that one day they would say something nice to her. Gina felt her sister was doomed to disappointment.
They came into the garage through the back door, ushered in by their son, who was so unlike his parents, Sally always insisted he had been swapped in the hospital.
‘Good God!’ said Alaric’s father, his eyes on stalks. ‘It’s like the Blackpool Illuminations!’
Even the little girls, who hadn’t heard of the Blackpool Illuminations, realised he wasn’t paying a compliment.
Alaric’s mother stood in front of the Nativity in silence for several, long, heavily laden seconds. Then she said, primly, ‘You do know, don’t you – or maybe you don’t – that the Wise Men shouldn’t be placed by the crib until Twelfth Night. They weren’t there at the birth.’
‘Oh, I know,’ said Sally tightly, ‘but I just thought it would be rather fun to have them. Darling! Do get your parents a drink. And Matthew? Would you like to bring Oscar in now?’
Possibly only Gina deduced from this how much Sally wished Oscar was an attack dog and would tear her in-laws limb by limb should she give the command.
Alaric’s parents had strict rules about Christmas. Presents in the afternoon, after lunch, after the washing-up. Rather than take them head on, Sally and Alaric had special, small and educational presents to give their children after lunch. Their real presents were opened at breakfast with a lot of screaming and spilt drinks. If the grandparents made any comments about these presents, the children were trained to say, ‘But, Grandma, we’ve had these ages!’
After lunch, which had been cleared away in record time, Gina, the girls and Oscar escorted the grandparents up and down the road for some post-prandial exercise. The girls took it in turns to hold Oscar’s lead and Gina did her best to make conversation. It was hard work and she wished she was back at the house, clearing up, but Matthew had insisted on doing it.
When they came back the garage had become a sitting room. Some of the furniture had been moved back into the cottage and the dining chairs (borrowed from the village hall) were all facing the same direction. There was even space for Oscar: his bed had been laid regally in front of the chimenea, which was now filled with rows of tea lights to simulate an open fire. The industrial blowers were doing a good job – aided by the mild weather – and it was pleasantly warm.
‘Now! Presents!’ declared Alaric, almost as excited as his daughters.
Matthew’s presents were very well received: especially by the girls who fell upon the nail varnish designed to drop off shortly after being applied. He seemed very pleased with his presents too, the pencils being admired by everyone as well as him.
While Sally was making a note of everything the girls were given so they could write thank-you letters afterwards (in fact, only the grandparents got these) Gina opened her present from Matthew. It was large and square and at first she didn’t know what it was.
‘It’s a lap desk,’ he said. ‘Papier-mâché, mid nineteenth century. Open it.’
Gina lifted the lid and saw how it formed a slope. There were spaces for pens and two little ink bottles. The whole
thing was painted with roses and inlaid with mother of pearl.
‘It’s beautiful!’ Gina was hardly able to speak. It seemed far too valuable a present – especially as she’d given him pencils. He’d obviously put a lot of thought into choosing it for her.