Christmas for One: No Greater Love (43 page)

‘I tell you what it is, it’s an excuse for people to wallow in their sadness and for the newspaper to make a few quid! What’s the point? Grief should be a private thing. The person they’re writing about is brown bread, it’s bloody pointless.’

‘It’s not pointless, Mart. At least I don’t think it is. It’s like wishing them a fond farewell.’

‘A fond farewell? I just don’t think it’s very jolly.’

Poppy threw her head back and laughed loudly. ‘Not very jolly? Have you been mixing with them officers again, Mart? Jolly?’ she taunted. ‘Not very jolly?’

He kicked his leg out, trying to catch her with his foot as she wriggled out of reach.

They both smiled as Poppy stood behind him at the stove and ran her fingers over the tan line at his neck. She felt the slight bulge of flesh against the pad of her finger. Martin had always been solid, stocky, and she could now see the extra pounds that would pad him into his middle age.

‘I love having you home.’ She kissed his neck.

‘Well that’s lucky too, cos I’m not going anywhere either.’

‘Although I must admit, I find it easier to keep my kitchen clean and tidy when you aren’t here.’ Poppy picked up the empty egg carton and flung it in the recycling bag she kept by the back door, then reached for her cloth and sprayed it with Cif.

‘
Your
kitchen? Blimey, there are women burning bras all over the world so the kitchen won’t be considered “theirs”.’ Martin laughed.

‘Not me.’ Poppy smiled as she swiped at the sink drainer. ‘I like looking after my house. Plus I’ve only got a couple of bras; I’d be in all sorts of unsupported trouble if I started burning them.’

‘I sometimes think you’d rather we didn’t eat and then you could keep
your
kitchen immaculate at all times.’

Poppy carried on cleaning, not willing to confess that sometimes that was exactly what she thought. ‘Well, if you don’t like it, you can always move into the shed in the back garden, where the dirt and mess might be more to your liking!’

‘I’m only teasing you, babe. I love being in our shiny house. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Not yet.’ Poppy crinkled her nose, hardly able to think that this happiness might be subject to a countdown. The supposed two-year gap between deployments seemed to be commonly ignored these days, as numbers dwindled and campaigns continued. She knew it wouldn’t be long before he came home looking sullen, eye twitching and muscles tense as he delivered the phrase she always dreaded: ‘I’ve been posted…’

‘Maybe not ever,’ he quipped.

‘Ooh, now you’re talking.’ She kissed him again, then freed herself from his grip and plunged her hands deep into the sink, feeling for the cups and cutlery that lurked under the suds, wanting to get a head start on the washing-up.

‘Seriously, Poppy, I’ve been having a good old think. I reckon when this year is up, I should think about signing off. Then we can stay around here, the kids won’t have to be uprooted from school and I won’t have to go away again.’ He turned to look at his wife over his shoulder.

‘God, that sounds perfect. I’d love it. But it’s a lot to consider, love – we’d lose the house, obviously, and you’d need to find a job.’

Martin nodded; he had thought of that. ‘I’m sure I can get something, looking after a fleet in some company or a garage. I get casual offers from people that I meet all the time – apparently my military training and willingness to put up with the most shite conditions make me an attractive prospect!’

‘Who knew?’ Poppy mocked.

‘Not me.’ He grinned. ‘Or of course I could always set up my own business, open my own garage or whatever…’ He let the idea dangle and glanced at her, trying to gauge her reaction, before returning his stare to the pan.

Poppy abandoned the washing-up and turned to face him. ‘That’d be great, wouldn’t it? I could go back to hairdressing if need be, just while we get set up. Ooh, Mart! I’d love to see you with your own business. You could have “Cricket and Sons” over the door!’

‘Or “and Daughters”,’ he corrected.

‘Only if you’re planning on setting up a flight school for our little pilot. She’s quite determined.’

Martin laughed. ‘She’ll have to be. I think I’ll see what surprises this year has in store, but I might do the sums, see what it would take and how far we could get with my gratuity. It wouldn’t be huge, but if we were careful and had another income coming in, it might just be doable.’

‘Are we having another baby?’ Peg shouted as she pulled a chair from the table and sat with her legs tucked up underneath her. Neither parent had heard her approach in her green-and-blue striped socks.

‘Another baby?’ Poppy laughed.

‘Yes. I heard Dad say something about surprises this year and the last time you said you had a big surprise for me, we got Maxy! I don’t mind if we are, but I’d like a girl this time, called Katniss.’

‘No, darling, we’re not having a baby and I can almost guarantee that if we did have one, we wouldn’t be calling it Katnap or whatever.’

Peg rolled her eyes before burying her head in her colouring book, concentrating on keeping the pink pen within the lines.

Martin chuckled. ‘I’ve got one kid that wants a new baby,’ he whispered from the corner of his mouth, ‘and another doing his level best to make sure I can’t get within four feet of my wife!’

Poppy smiled and thought back to the previous night. Max had woken several times, only settling when ensconced in their bed. It was not quite the evening of passion they had planned.

‘Oh, I don’t know, you seemed to do okay in the Max-free interludes.’

‘That was just me getting started.’ Martin grinned at his wife.

‘Better get them tucked up early tonight then, Romeo.’ She flicked the water and suds from her fingers in his direction.

The door bell rang.

‘I’ll get it!’ Peg jumped off her chair and ran towards the front door, skidding in her socks until she banged right into it.

‘It’s Aunty Jo!’ Peg announced as their neighbour entered with two boxes wrapped in Christmas paper balanced in her arms.

‘Are they for Maxy and me?’ Peg pranced from foot to foot.

‘Peg, don’t be rude!’ Poppy yelled as she released herself from her husband’s grip. She smiled at her daughter, knowing how much fun it was to receive a gift when you thought there were no more in the offing.

Jo shook her head, sending her cascade of dark, glossy curls shivering down her back. She winked at Poppy. ‘Actually, no, Peg, these are for Mummy and Daddy.’

‘Oh.’ Peg kept her smile in place. ‘Can I open them for them?’

The two women laughed at the little girl who refused to let her excitement flag.

‘Course they’re for you, darlin’.’ Jo handed the box on top to Peg, who screeched up the stairs, ‘Max, wake up! We’ve got a present!’

Max immediately started to wail. Smoke rose from the eggs in the pan and Peg screamed in excitement as she peeled back the red-foil paper to reveal a pair of roller boots. The alarm began pipping its herald.

‘It’s a bloody madhouse!’ Martin yelled from the kitchen as he opened the window and Poppy began whizzing a tea towel in a helicopter motion below the smoke alarm.

Jo opened the front door and worked it back and forth to try and dilute the smoke. She laughed, happy to be a small part of this chaotic, noisy family.

With Peg content to roll up and down the hallway, oblivious to the irritating rattle of her wheels, and Max diligently counting all his new dinosaurs back into the box from which they had spilled, the three adults sat and sipped at strong tea. The remnants of fried egg sandwiches and sloshes of ketchup littered the plates on the coffee table in front of them.

‘When’s Danny back then, Jo?’ Martin missed his friend and football buddy.

‘Ten weeks tomorrow. I can’t wait.’ Jo beamed.

‘It’ll be good to see him.’ Martin nodded.

‘He’s had enough, Mart. To be honest, I don’t think he’s had the best tour and what with all these cuts, he knows he’ll be turned around quite quickly and back out again, somewhere. He’s seriously thinking of signing off.’

‘Sounds familiar.’ Poppy sipped at her mug.

Martin sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘It’s because it’s tough now, Poppy: houses falling apart, too few of us stretched, posts gapped. And the jobs that need doing don’t disappear; it just means that with fewer people we all work harder and longer, so you don’t even have time to think. Danny and I won’t be the only ones thinking of jacking it in. It’s a shame, they’re losing good men, trained men, but still spending money on recruiting and trying to think of the next big thing. If only they were more efficient and a bit smarter, there’d be fewer people leaving and we’d keep the skills we need.’

‘I think people must be having this same conversation on every patch in the country,’ Jo said. ‘I was talking to some of our old neighbours up in Catterick and everyone is saying the same. Trouble is, there aren’t that many jobs once you get out, not now. It’s a bloody shame. I don’t want to move – I love my house. Neighbours are a bit of a handful though.’ She smiled.

‘That’s funny.’ Poppy sat up straight. ‘I feel exactly the same!’

The women were quiet for a second.

‘God, if you moved, I’d really miss you, I’d miss the kids.’

Poppy reached over and patted her mate’s leg. ‘And they’d miss you.’ She felt the familiar pang of guilt that Jo had not fulfilled her wish to become a mum when it had come so easily to her. ‘Mind you, even if we moved, we’d still see you.’

‘Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the same.’ Jo took a gulp of tea.

‘No, I know. But let’s not worry about that – you’ve got Danny back in ten weeks! That’s so exciting.’

‘Yep, you’re right. I wonder how much weight I can lose in ten weeks?’

‘Lots, if you stop scoffing biscuits and fried egg sandwiches!’ trilled Peg as she whizzed past the back of the sofa on her roller boots.

Poppy felt her face colour and tried not to notice as Martin’s shoulders shook. ‘More tea, anyone?’

‘I’m getting a new pet, Aunty Jo,’ Peg shouted from the hallway.

‘Are you? I thought Mummy said no?’ Jo looked quizzically at Poppy.

‘She did, but Daddy said YES!’ Peg shouted.

‘She’ll give me heart failure, that child, or at the very least send me grey.’ Poppy smiled.

Martin pulled a face. ‘In fairness, I was put on the spot a bit.’

Jo laughed and addressed Peg’s back as she scooted past. ‘So, what pet are you getting?’

‘A guinea pig – called Katniss!’

‘Piss piss!’ Max shouted from the rug.

Martin felt a new wave of giggles about to erupt. ‘Maybe not Katniss, Peg,’ he suggested. ‘I thought you wanted to call it Toffee?’

‘I did, that’s the name that me and Jade came up with, but I prefer Katniss now.’

‘Piss piss!’ Max shouted again, this time looking at his dad to see if it would get the same reaction.

‘I think we’re going to go with Toffee.’ Martin made the decision; he couldn’t have Max shouting that out every five minutes.

‘Shall we go today, Dad, and pick him up?’

‘Let’s do it tomorrow, Peg.’

‘Okay!’ she shouted as she thundered past and hit the front door. ‘Ouch!’

The three adults held their cups still and waited to hear if Peg would pick herself up.

‘I’m okay!’ she wheezed and stood up ready for another run.

‘How much is a guinea pig and all its gubbins going to cost me?’ Martin asked as if only just considering the cost.

‘A bloody fortune and it serves you right!’ Poppy laughed.

At bedtime Martin read Peg and Max
The Gruffalo
, complete with growly Gruffalo voice and squeaky mouse impression. Poppy had tried to do their favourite story justice during his absence, but knew that she didn’t come close. Well, as long as they were occupied…

She let the shower run and placed her hand under the warm water. Smiling in the mirror, she felt very lucky. They had been together for over half their lives and still the spark of excitement at the prospect of physical contact hadn’t waned. ‘You are one lucky girl, Poppy Day. Very, very lucky.’

‘Love and luck…’ She heard her nan saying her favourite expression, pictured the day she had teased her about getting serious with Martin Cricket. They were sitting opposite each other at the little table in the kitchen, her nan with a roll-up perched between her fingers and a cup of stewed tea in its saucer.

‘So, do you love him, Poppy Day? Does he make your tummy go flippy and your face all smoochy?’

‘No, Nan, yuk!’ she had shouted, although that was exactly how he made her fourteen-year-old self feel.

‘I thought you was best mates, you and Mart? And that’s no basis for a boyfriend! You’re supposed to argue like cat and dog, not be best mates! What kind of a future will that lead to?’ Dorothea winked at her granddaughter. ‘I’m teasing you, darlin’. I wish you both all the love and luck in the world.’

Poppy smiled into the cascade of water. ‘It’s been a lovely future, Nan. But you knew it would be, didn’t you?’

The hot water ran over her head and body. They had a big day tomorrow, a new addition to the family. She decided to try and feel pleased about the arrival of Toffee the guinea pig; after all, Peg was beside herself with happiness. Maybe she
would
take care of it herself; maybe Poppy wouldn’t be lumbered with mucking out a bloody guinea pig as well as everything else that fell under her remit in this house. She laughed. Fat chance.

‘Working nine till five…’ Poppy sang loudly as she worked the soap into bubbles between her palms.

‘Wake up, everybody!’ Peg shouted as she jumped up and down on the landing. ‘It’s today! And we are going to get our new pet!’

Poppy yawned, put her head under the pillow and groaned. ‘This is all your fault,’ she mumbled. ‘You are the worst husband in the whole wide world.’

Martin reached across under the duvet and smacked her bottom. ‘That’s as maybe, fat arse, but I’m the best dad in the world!’

Poppy smiled into the mattress despite his insult. He probably was the best dad in the world, at least according to the very excited little girl who was running amok on the landing.