A Proper Family Christmas (39 page)

‘We’ve come to deliver your Christmas present,’ Lily said. ‘Daddy said that Father Christmas couldn’t do it because you haven’t got a chimney.’

‘He’s right,’ said Chelsea. ‘I don’t have a chimney here.’

‘Are you going to invite us in?’ Adam asked.

Chelsea glanced back into the flat behind her. She knew it was in a right state. If Adam came in, he would see the pizza box on the coffee table and the pile of dirty laundry on the kitchen floor. But he had already seen her straight from bed, having slept in the clothes she had been wearing the day before. And she had a cold. She’d been battling it for three days. She was entitled to be looking pretty bloody ropey.

Lily looked up at her expectantly. She looked like the perfect Christmas angel in her red coat trimmed with fake fur.

‘Don’t you want to see what we’ve got you?’ Lily asked.

‘Come in,’ said Chelsea.

Fortunately Chelsea had bought Christmas presents for Lily before the break-up and the shop had wrapped them, so they were ready to go. Somehow, Lily managed to persuade Adam that he should let her open one of them early. She chose the largest, which was a Barbie doll dressed as a 1950s starlet. It was probably a little sophisticated for Lily, but Chelsea had fallen in love with the doll the moment she saw it. It was the doll she’d always dreamed of as a child.

Lily was enchanted too. She had her father release Barbie from the box immediately – no mean feat, the doll had been packaged to survive being dropped from the top of the Shard, while tied to an elephant – and settled down at the coffee table to play.

Meanwhile, Adam followed Chelsea into the kitchen. She made them both a coffee. Black. She had no milk. She did have Bailey’s, however. She offered Adam a shot of that instead.

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘But no.’

Chelsea poured herself one. Then she poured it straight down the sink. The last thing she needed was for Adam to think she was a lush on top of everything else.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘That this place is such a state. I’ve had a crazy few days.’

‘We saw the news about Jack and Bill online. It must have been a scary time.’

‘I’ll say,’ said Chelsea. ‘You must think my sister is always mislaying her children.’

‘It could happen to any of us. The other day, I almost lost Lily in Hamleys. She was going up the escalator, hanging on to the back of some other dad’s jeans. I guess she does mostly see me from the waist down, being so short.’

Chelsea laughed.

‘I’ve missed you,’ said Adam then.

‘I’ve missed you too.’

‘I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that night at my house. You were right to be upset that I called you by Claire’s name.’

‘It was bound to happen at some point,’ said Chelsea. ‘I should be used to it. When I was growing up, it seemed like each time she called me, Mum would go through the whole family’s names, including the cat’s, before she settled on mine.’

‘This is different though. And you were right to ask whether I was ready for a relationship. Not just to protect yourself either. There is Lily to think of too. Any relationship we entered into would be a case of three hearts. It’s important to be careful.’

Chelsea clutched her coffee mug tightly.

‘But not too careful, because that’s a sure way to miss out on all the good things in life.’

‘Adam,’ Chelsea interrupted at last. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that perhaps we should try again? Slowly? Carefully? But with open hearts?’

To Chelsea’s ears, it was as good as a marriage proposal. She put her mug down and wrapped her arms round Adam, pressing her head against his chest.

‘That’s a yes,’ she told him.

‘Are you kissing?’ asked Lily from the doorway, with her head delicately turned away to spare herself from the sight.

‘Just hugging,’ said Chelsea. ‘Want to join us?’

Lily inserted herself into the middle of what was now a group hug.

‘We’re going to Mum and Dad’s for supper,’ said Adam. ‘Do you want to come too?’

‘You’re asking me to come to your parents’ house?’ said Chelsea. ‘On Christmas Eve?’

‘You’re going to have to meet them at some point,’ said Adam.

‘In that case,’ said Chelsea. ‘It’s another yes.’

Lily helped Chelsea choose her outfit for Christmas Eve at her grandparents’ house.

‘Granny will like that one,’ she said, pulling out the red velvet dress that Chelsea hadn’t ever actually worn. It was one of those dresses that seemed like the perfect thing for Christmas but, whenever she put it on, Chelsea felt as though she was an extra in some cheesy film. She wasn’t sure she could pull it off. But now Lily was insisting it was the very thing.

‘OK,’ said Chelsea. She put it on and Lily helped her accessorise it with a glittering crystal necklace, which was Adam’s Christmas present to her.

‘You can open it early,’ he’d said.

‘You look like a Christmas princess,’ Lily said approvingly.

That was good enough for Chelsea. Adam also seemed to agree.

‘I love it. Mary Christmas.’

Chelsea frowned. ‘It’s too much.’

‘No!’ Adam insisted. ‘In any case, you don’t have time to change. Come on. My mother will have food on the table at seven o’clock sharp. If we’re not there on time there will be trouble.’

Getting into the back of Adam’s car alongside Lily, at last Chelsea felt ready for Christmas to start.

Christmas morning at the Bensons-Edwards’ house began early.

Jack was up at half past five. Sophie got up, reluctantly, at seven, as her parents told her that Jack wasn’t allowed to open his presents until she got up. It would have been cruel to insist on staying in bed any longer and, though she would never admit it, Sophie was just as keen to see Jack’s excitement as her parents were. She’d bought him a whole cast of miniature
Doctor Who
characters. She knew that he’d be thrilled.

Sophie was delighted with her own gift from her parents. It wasn’t a new iPhone but it was a perfectly refurbished one. She threw her arms round her father’s neck.

‘I know it’s not new,’ he began.

‘It’s perfect, Dad. Thank you.’

Mark had another iPhone for Ronnie. ‘Now you can do FaceTime with your mum,’ he told his daughter.

Sophie and Ronnie both looked horrified at the thought.

There were more gifts when the Buchanans arrived. Of course, they weren’t specially chosen – the invitation for the family to spend Christmas Day at Ronnie’s house had come too late for that – but Annabel’s emergency present drawer came into its own. And there were plenty of things in there that anyone would have been happy to receive. In any case, Jack was more excited about giving Leander a Christmas present than getting one in return. He’d bought a packet of Trebor mints for the dog, using the last of his pocket money. Richard had to intervene before Leander scarfed the lot. Fishy wisely stayed out of the way in Ronnie’s bedroom, with the door firmly closed.

Annabel found a quiet spot for baby Humfrey in his Moses basket in the corner of the dining room, though someone or other visited him every two minutes. Izzy and Sophie couldn’t resist looking in on him. Jack showed Humfrey every one of the ten
Doctor Who
miniatures he’d received, waving them in front of the poor baby’s unfocused eyes while giving him the low-down on the character’s special powers.

Chelsea arrived at midday. In the depths of her misery, she’d been expecting to miss Christmas altogether but now that she and Adam were back together, she couldn’t wait to celebrate. After a very lovely supper with Adam’s parents, Chelsea had spent the night at Adam’s house. He’d let her borrow his car for the drive up to Coventry on the condition that she would hurry back to spend Boxing Day with him and Lily.

‘Auntie Chelsea!’ Jack in particular was over the moon to see her. He made her open the gift he’d bought for her from the second-hand stall at his school’s Christmas fete.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘A sonic screwdriver! At last I’ve got my very own.’

‘I knew you’d like it,’ said Jack.

Ronnie and Chelsea cooked the lunch together. Annabel offered encouragement from a kitchen stool as she fed Humfrey. Everyone else was banned from the kitchen.

Mark and Richard were in charge of the booze. Richard had raided his cellar and brought enough alcohol to kill a horse. They started by giving everyone (except the children) a glass of champagne. Granddad Bill announced that it was the best champagne he’d had since he was in France after the war. Then he sang a version of ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’ that Edith Piaf could only have imagined.

Sophie and Izzy found it in their hearts to entertain Jack. Izzy brought out a strange sort of skittles game she’d inherited from her mother and they played it for ages, letting Jack win. When he wasn’t being fed, Humfrey slept through most of the day, even when Leander, racing through the dining room after a Trebor mint thrown by Jack, managed to tip the Moses basket over.

The lunch was perfect. It wasn’t quite what Annabel would have produced, left to her own devices, but she had to admit that the frozen Aunt Bessie’s Yorkshire puddings were a revelation. As were the oven-ready roast potatoes.

‘Life’s too short to peel a potato,’ said Ronnie.

Annabel had to agree.

‘I will never peel a potato again.’

‘I’m sorry it isn’t much,’ said Jacqui. ‘But I wanted to get you some sort of gift.’

Sarah held the scented candle in her lap. As she looked at Jacqui, her eyes filled with tears.

‘Jacqui,’ she said. ‘You already gave me the best gift a woman could ever hope for.’

Jacqui waited for her to continue.

‘You gave me our daughter. I have thought about you so often since we got the letter saying that an adoption match had been found. All the way through Annabel’s life, whenever she reached those milestones that every mother longs for, I thought about you and what you were missing out on. I knew that you weren’t a silly woman. You were a wonderful woman and a strong one to have made the decision to give your little Daisy up.’

Jacqui started to hear the name she had given Annabel from Sarah’s lips.

‘I knew you hadn’t done it lightly and that your gift to me was also a responsibility.’

‘You certainly lived up to it,’ said Jacqui. ‘I couldn’t have wished for Daisy to find a better home.’

‘I never thought this would happen. Sharing Christmas like this, with you. But I’m glad it has.’

Sarah reached for Jacqui’s hand and squeezed it.

‘This is what Christmas is all about, isn’t it? Being together as a family. Everyone from the old to the very new.’

Jacqui nodded. They both looked towards Humfrey, who was momentarily awake and being shown the baubles on the Christmas tree by Annabel.

‘I always worried what it would be like if Annabel decided to search for you. I told myself that I didn’t mind but in reality, I knew I would probably take it as an insult. A slight on the way I had raised her. I think she knew that and out of loyalty to me and her dad she sat on any urge she had to know more. Izzy’s illness changed everything. Of course, I couldn’t object to Annabel tracking you down when it might save Izzy’s life, but I was still very afraid. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her to you.’

‘You haven’t,’ said Jacqui. ‘And you never will. I might have given birth to her, Sarah, but I’ll never be her mum. That title will always and only belong to you.’

Sarah nodded.

Right then, Annabel’s voice called out.

‘Mum! Could you hold on to Humfrey for a minute while I pop to the bathroom, please?’

Jacqui and Sarah looked at each other. They both knew exactly who Annabel was calling for. Sarah got up and went to take care of her grandson.

Ronnie was quiet after the Buchanans went home. They were all quiet. Jack was exhausted. He’d had so many grown-ups to entertain that day. He’d been so spoiled too. Sophie was pensive. She had her headphones in her ears as she looked out of the window. Mark was sparko in his armchair. Richard had been more than generous with his wine cellar. Even Fishy, who was finally able to come back downstairs now that Leander was gone, was asleep on top of the radiator.

Ronnie pottered around the house, beginning the clean-up operation. She filled two recycling bags with Christmas paper. She wrapped what little remained of the turkey and two chickens in silver foil. She lined up empty wine bottles by the back door. Sophie put Jack to bed, reading him a ‘story’ from that year’s Minecraft annual, and then turned in herself. Mark was snoring. Ronnie rearranged the Christmas cards on the mantelpiece. She found one that had been drawn by Jack. It wasn’t exactly a Christmas card, it was one of his many lists of demands to Father Christmas, folded in half so that it could stand up alongside the Christmas wishes from their family and friends.

Ronnie read Jack’s Christmas list. Most of its contents were familiar. A dog. A ‘real’ motorbike. The latest version of Minecraft.

‘Kidnee for Izzi’ was the very last item.

Ronnie shook her head sadly.

By the time she went to bed, Ronnie had decided that the following morning, she would go back to Annabel’s house alone and talk to her about the transplant. There was no way she was going to let Sophie do it. But Ronnie had to. Izzy was her niece. She was proper family.

Whenever they’d spoken to someone who had been through a transplant, it seemed that the phone call always came in the middle of the night. This time was no exception. Christmas Day ticked into Boxing Day. It was quarter to one. Annabel and Richard were still awake. Annabel was in the bathroom, taking off her make-up and running through that day’s events. Christmas lunch with the Bensons at the last minute. What fun it had been. They’d all had such a good time. Even Humfrey.

Then the phone rang. The landline. It was so rare that the landline rang anymore that Annabel was immediately alarmed.