Coming Home for Christmas (15 page)

Alison gazed around and felt like an eight-year-old. Her life in America seemed so far removed from her. These past days with her family had been a balm to her soul, and she knew her parents
were very joyful to have her home. She felt guilty for having left it so long to spend Christmas with them.

‘Oh, this is lovely, pet.’ Esther tucked an arm into hers. ‘You did a great job – you should take up flower arranging.’

‘I might.’ She smiled at her mother.

‘It brings me back to my childhood,’ Olivia sighed, studying the Christmas cake reposing on the sideboard. There had been great excitement at the icing of it. Esther had laid a small
mirror that looked like a lake on the pristine white icing, then forked up little snowdrifts against it, upon which the children had carefully placed silver balls. Santa and his sleigh perched on
one of the drifts. Two little houses and trees and two little robins were dotted around, and Ellie had gazed at the cake with awe, her blue eyes wide with enchantment.

The sound of excited voices out in the hall told them that their peace and quiet was over. Kate hurtled into the dining room, followed by her sisters.

‘Oh! Oh!
Deadly!!!!
’ She came to a full stop.

‘Cam I sit here and pull a cracker?’ Ellie sat at the top of the table and reached out for one of the red and gold crackers.

‘Nope, they’re for tomorrow,’ Olivia said firmly. Ellie pouted, and her mouth turned down in a scowl.

‘Want to!’ she said sulkily. ‘’Snot fair!’

‘Now now, Santa’s fairies are listening,’ Esther warned. ‘Come on, we have to put baby Jesus in the crib and light the candle in the porch.’

‘Oh! I’d forgotten about the candle-lighting ceremony,’ Alison said with delight.

‘Can I light the match?’ Kate asked eagerly.

‘No, we’ll let Gran do it so there’ll be no rows,’ Olivia decreed.

‘What about Grandad?’ Lia piped up, always his champion.

‘Grandad and I will do it together. Come on, we’ll do it now,’ Esther said. They hurried out to the porch, where the tall white candle reposed in an arrangement of greenery and
red and white roses. Liam handed Esther the matches, and when she had struck one, he placed his hand over hers and the two of them bent down towards the wick to light the candle to guide weary
travellers and welcome the Christ child into the world. It was a lovely tradition and already several candles were flickering in windows and porches around the village.

Alison caught Olivia’s eye. Each knew what the other was thinking. Each sent up a word of thanks to the Almighty that their parents were alive and well and with them for another
Christmas.

‘Cam I blow it out?’ Ellie broke the moment.

‘Of course. Go on – we’ll light it again.’ Esther laughed. ‘Your mother and aunt were exactly the same at your age. Now come on and we’ll put baby Jesus in
his crib,’ she encouraged when the candle had been blown out and relit.

The crib was in the front room on the bookcase. Esther had made mountains out of some books covered in black papier-mâché. Some small pieces of Christmas-tree branches and ivy gave
a forest effect. The Three Wise Men and the Shepherds clustered outside the stable, which was illuminated by a small light that shone on Joseph and Mary, and on the ox and the ass standing on the
straw that covered the floor. A little blue angel sat atop the stable, and a silver star dangled from the roof. It hadn’t changed in over forty-five years. Esther had bought it for her and
Liam’s first Christmas together. And every year it sat on the bookcase in its accustomed place and, as once her two girls had gazed in delight upon it, now her grandchildren had the same
expressions of enchantment as Liam lifted Ellie up to place the small figure of the baby Jesus, on his manger, into the stable.

‘Baby Jesus, have a good sleep with your Mom and Dad,’ she said lovingly, stroking the little figure.

‘Talking of sleep, ladies, we need to be getting home. We have a lot to do in our house, and Santa will be leaving the North Pole soon,’ Olivia interjected, looking at her watch. It
was almost five, and baths had to be had and hair washed before the stocking-hanging ceremony.

‘Please, pleezzze stay with us tonight, Auntie Alison,’ Kate begged, as Lia slipped an arm around her waist and looked up at her hopefully.

‘Santa will come to you in our house,’ Ellie assured her.

‘And what about poor Gran and Grandad? Who will stay with them?’ Alison asked, loving the feeling of being so important in their lives.

‘They won’t mind, sure you won’t, Gran?’ Kate said confidently. ‘They’d
want
you to have some fun,’ she insisted.

‘I was thinking more about my sleep,’ Alison said wryly. ‘What time does Santa come on Christmas Eve?’

‘When we’re all asleep of course, silly.’ Ellie laughed at the ridiculousness of such a question.

‘And what time do you get up at on Christmas morning?’

‘When the toys come.’

‘That’s what I’d be afraid of,’ Alison retorted.

‘Chicken,’ grinned Olivia.

‘Go and enjoy Christmas Eve with the children,’ Esther insisted. ‘We won’t mind.’

‘Pleezzze,’ they all urged, hanging on to her arms.

‘Oh all right then.’ Alison caved in. ‘Just let me pack an overnight bag.’

‘Yippee!’

‘Yesss!’

‘Cool!’

‘You have me twisted around your little fingers. Three against one just isn’t fair.’ Alison laughed, touched by their reactions, as they all galloped upstairs ahead of her to
help her pack.

‘Are you bringing your very high heels for Mass?’ Lia asked hopefully, planning to have a go of them when her auntie wasn’t wearing them.

‘I guess so.’

‘An’ lipstick?’ Ellie demanded.

‘Of course.’

‘And earrings?’ Kate asked, hoping to get to open the jewellery box with the little ballerina that she loved to play with when she came to visit her Gran.

‘Yes, the gold crescent ones. Will you get them out of my jewellery box, please? And then wind the ballerina up and we’ll watch her dance to the music.’ Alison knew exactly
what her niece wanted. She had spent hours as a child fascinated by the whirling ballerina.

‘Come on, you lot, it’s getting late,’ Olivia called ten minutes later.

‘We better go, girls, we don’t want to be caught out by Santa!’ Alison made a face.

‘I don’t think I want that man coming into my bedroom,’ Ellie said doubtfully, slipping her hand into her aunt’s. ‘Cam I sleep with you?’

Alison’s heart sank. Ellie was inclined to take over the bed, as she’d discovered a few days previously when her youngest niece had pleaded to stay on a sleepover with her.

‘We’ll see what Mam says.’

‘But what about your toys that Santa’s going to leave?’ Lia asked, shocked. ‘Santa won’t come into Auntie Alison’s room. He only does kids . . . no offence .
. .’ she said hastily, not wishing to appear rude.

‘I know, pet. Let’s get home and get sorted and we’ll see what happens,’ Alison said lightly. With any luck, her niece would be asleep before hitting the pillow, she was
yawning her curly little head off already.

There was much hugging and kissing in the hall as they said goodbye to Esther and Liam, promising to keep a seat for them in the church the following morning. ‘Bye, Gran. Bye, Grandad.
Happy Christmas,’ Lia said, hugging her grandad tightly.

‘Let me know that Santa’s come, now won’t you?’ he insisted as they trooped out the door.

‘We will,’ they chorused, and Esther watched them leave, happy as could be that Alison was home to share their Christmas at last.

The Hammond household was a crazy house for the next two hours as baths were taken, hair was washed and dried, supper was eaten and prayers were said. At last, to Olivia’s relief, it was
time for her overexcited daughters to put out the carrots and milk and cookies by the fire for Santa and the reindeer, hang up the stockings and go to bed.

‘Do you think three cookies is enough?’

‘Well, he might be hungry.’

‘Cam I have a cookie?’

‘Me too?’

‘Me too?’

‘Girls, I’m
really
losing my patience. You’ve just scoffed a huge tea. Now up to bed.’ Olivia couldn’t hide her exasperation. She still had Christmas
presents to wrap.

‘Come on, before your Mom loses her cool,’ Alison intervened, noting her sister’s heightened colour and the spark in her eye.

‘Ookkkaayy.’ Lia grimaced.

‘Chill, Mom,’ Kate said cheekily, not actually realizing how thin the ice she was skating on was.

‘Cam I—’

‘BED!’ Olivia said emphatically, pointing a finger up the stairs.

Alison watched as the trio hung the red stockings on the end of their bedposts. Lia neatly and exactly lined hers up parallel to the bedpost. Kate’s was higgledy-piggledy, and
Ellie’s on the knob of the chest of drawers because she didn’t want ‘that man’ near her bed. Alison had promised that if she woke up and was scared she could come straight
in to her.

The big bedroom had three beds in a row, with a little locker between each bed. Kate’s was crammed with bric-a-brac and ornaments. Lia’s held her clock and book, and Ellie’s
had her teddy and a page and crayons. Decorated in cream and lilac, it was a cosy bedroom and, because it was Christmas and their mother had warned them that Santa wouldn’t come into an
untidy bedroom, it was unusually shipshape.

Watching her nieces scrambling under their duvets after kissing herself and Olivia goodnight, Alison felt a sudden emptiness as she tucked Ellie in. She was thirty-two. If she wanted children of
her own and to experience a Christmas Eve such as this, she’d want to be getting a move on in finding a partner she’d like to settle down with. Jonathan had phoned to wish her a happy
Christmas, with promises of a trip to Aspen in the New Year as her Christmas gift. She knew she wouldn’t be going. He was not what she wanted in life. At least she’d come to that
realization. Her days of non-exclusive dating were well and truly over. She remembered JJ saying emphatically, ‘If I’m dating a woman, I’m dating her.’ It made her smile.
She wondered how he was getting on. Coming home to visit his wife’s grave must be incredibly difficult. Christmas was hardly a time of joy for him, she mused as she followed Olivia
downstairs.

Michael had gone to visit his parents in Drogheda, and because Olivia wasn’t doing Christmas dinner, she only had to make a trifle and finish wrapping some presents.

‘Crack open a bottle of wine,’ she suggested. ‘We might as well enjoy the peace and quiet before the storm breaks.’

‘Good thinking,’ Alison agreed with alacrity. She’d turned into a lush since she’d come home, and was enjoying her red wine nights immensely.

‘Do you think they’ll sleep?’ she asked, listening to the excited chatter floating down the stairs.

‘They’d better! Because I intend to.’ Olivia grinned, clinking her glass with Alison’s. ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers yourself.’

‘Are you glad to be home or are you missing Jonathan?’ Olivia asked a while later as she sat on the floor wrapping Leo’s presents for him.

‘No, I’m not missing him,’ Alison scoffed, having drunk two large glasses of wine in quick succession. Olivia was going easy as she had to do her Father Christmas duties.

‘Do you love him?’ Olivia looked up at her sister, surprised by her tone.

‘Indeed and I don’t love him. He’s far too bloody selfish, and he’s mean with money. He’s not what I want. I had a good time with him, sure, I won’t deny it,
but it’s not a committed relationship.’

‘Oh! Would you like to have kids and a family?’ Olivia probed. ‘Or are you having such a perfect life just looking out for yourself that you can never see it
happening?’

‘Perfect life, ha! You’re a hoot, Olivia. You think I have a dream life compared to yours, you’re always having little digs at me, but trust me, at the moment you have it easy
compared to me,’ said Alison acerbically.

‘I do not have digs,’ Olivia said indignantly.

‘You do – when I cleaned out Leo’s fridge and made some comment about the amount of food past its sell-by date, you said, “Welcome to my world.” You can be such a .
. . a martyr, Olivia.’ Resentment was boiling up inside her.

‘I am
not
a martyr.’ Her sister was stung. ‘You’ve such a nerve to say that. You’re just so lucky, you can swan in and swan out on a visit and you never have
to worry if Mam or Dad are sick, or bring Leo to his appointments. It’s just tough sometimes and I don’t think you appreciate it.’

‘No one asked you to stay in Port Ross,’ Alison said heatedly.

‘I know that, but I’m here and I mind them the best I can. What am I supposed to do . . .
ignore
them!’ Olivia’s cheeks were bright red. ‘You have no idea
how difficult it can be sometimes, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘Oh I do, I get your emails,’ Alison riposted nastily. ‘You just love making me feel guilty, don’t you, Olivia? It’s always the same.’ Alison exploded as the
resentment that had been simmering away since she’d arrived erupted volcanically. ‘You think I have this wonderful easy life—’

‘Well, you
do
, you earn a fortune with your big-deal job. You’ve a fab apartment and you only have to worry about yourself—’

‘Wrong! Wrong!
Wrong!
On every count, Olivia,’ Alison retorted furiously, tongue loosened by the wine. ‘For your information, Miss-Know-All-Martyr, I’ve been
fecked out on my ear from my job; I’ve had to move to a studio and sublet the apartment. I took a hammering with my investments and bonuses because the firm collapsed and because of bloody
Anglo and the rest of the banks here. They were supposed to be blue-chip investments. My ass. Perfect life? HA! HA! You don’t have a frigging clue about my life, Olivia, so zip it. You know,
I think I’ll go to bed. Sometimes you can be mean and nasty and thoroughly bitchy.’ Alison stood up, near to tears.

‘Oh don’t.
Don’t!
Sorry, Ali.’ Olivia was immediately contrite. ‘When did you lose your job? Why didn’t you tell me? This is awful!’ She was
horrified. ‘You should have
told
me, Alison.’

‘Hell, I didn’t mean to let it slip. It’s the wine,’ Alison said miserably, all the fight gone out of her.