Last Christmas (19 page)

‘Yes, I have.’ Gabriel looked at her semi-solemnly, and then said, ‘If only to see you go that spectacular shade of beetroot.’

Marianne felt her cheeks flame even more and her heart went into overdrive on the skipping front. He did like her. He did. She could scarcely breathe, she felt so overcome. From somewhere distant, she realised Gabriel was motioning her into the lounge.

‘Stephen’s in bed,’he was saying, ‘make yourself at home.’

Marianne collapsed onto Gabriel’s comfy battered old sofa and let out a sigh of nervous relief. She had the weirdest feeling she’d come home.

It seemed wrong to be looking up Christmassy stuff at this time of year, but Cat was busy composing an article to go along with the launch of the competition, so she was online, searching through references to Nativity plays of yore, and tracking down more ancient carols to give people a taste of what they were looking for.

Perhaps,
she wrote,
in these more difficult times, this Christmas we can return to the simplicity of yesteryear and dispense with too much expense, fuss and nonsense. Perhaps it is time to remember an event, that took place two thousand years ago, in a stable in Bethlehem…

Too corny? Probably, but she knew that was what Bev would want.

Cat glanced at her watch—it was gone nine already. Noel had rung to say that he would be late, his train being delayed at Nuneaton apparently. The little ones were in bed, and James and Mel were playing on the Wii—last Christmas’ must-have, over-expensive item, which Cat had felt guilty getting for them at the time. Now, with the credit crunch and the scary amount of borrowing that she and Noel had found themselves embroiled in over the last few years, such purchases were looking self-indulgent to say the least. How had it come to this, she wondered. Cat and Noel had always tried to be careful with money,
but then the family had expanded, they’d needed extra space to accommodate the au pair, been unable to move thanks to the craziness of house prices, and ended up borrowing a shedload of money to pay for the loft conversion they required. They’d borrowed it on the strength of the partnership Noel had been promised, but which had yet to materialise. The building trade was bound to be affected by the financial slowdown, and Cat was worried sick about Noel losing his job but, if he shared her concerns, then he was keeping things very close to his chest. Not that he seemed to want to share all that much with her nowadays.

Cat saved the document she was working on and went downstairs to chase James into bed. He and Mel were in the middle of a row because James had won at tennis again.

‘He always beats me, it’s not fair!’ burst out Mel, before rushing off in floods of tears.

‘She’s such a bad loser,’ sulked James, about to throw his nunchuck on the floor—but one glance from his mother stopped him.

‘Yeah, well, maybe she is,’ said Cat, ‘but I don’t suppose it helps you rubbing her face in it.’ James was generally very self-satisfied when he won and Cat found it most annoying when she played him. With Mel in the sensitive state she was in, he was bound to wind her up.

‘You could go easy on her,’ said Cat. ‘She’s having a tough time of it at the moment.’

‘I know,’ said James in disgusted tones. ‘Hormones.’

James had recently had his puberty talk at school and was now apparently the expert on all things hormonal.

‘Yup,’ said Cat, ‘so you have to feel sorry for her really. Now apologise and get to bed.’

Cat followed her son up the stairs and heard him dart in and mumble a feeble apology to Mel before darting out
again. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. She was never sure how Mel would react these days.

‘May I come in?’ she said.

‘Suppose,’ was the sullen reply.

Mel was sitting against the wall, red-eyed, playing with her mobile phone.

‘Anything in particular bring that on, or just everything?’ said Cat, squashing up next to her daughter.

‘No,nothing.Oh,everything!’burst out Mel.‘I hate being eleven. It sucks.’

‘Sure does,’ said Cat, ‘but twelve will be better, you’ll see.’

‘It might be worse,’ said Mel.

‘What, worse than this?’ laughed Cat. ‘Surely not.’

This elicited a small smile from her daughter and soon Cat had her giggling away as if nothing had happened.

‘There’s nothing really wrong though, is there, Mel?’ Cat asked gently.

‘NOoo,’ said Mel disparagingly. ‘You always ask that, and I always say no.’

‘It’s only because I worry about you,’ said Cat.

‘Well, don’t,’ said Mel, closing in on herself again. ‘I’m fine. I just want to be left alone.’

‘Okay,’said Cat, ‘but get straight into bed and no reading, it’s late.’

She paused at the door, looking at her daughter, who looked so vulnerable sitting there.Vulnerable but belligerent.

‘You can tell me if something’s wrong,’ she said.

‘There isn’t anything wrong,’ said Mel, ‘except that I want you to go away so I can get undressed.’

Cat laughed, that was a bit more like it. She just hoped that Mel wasn’t hiding anything from her. She sighed. Such a short time ago, she’d been terrified by the responsibility of having a newborn baby. Now she worried about her almost teenage daughter being bullied. It was just as well
no one had ever told her what being a parent was really like, otherwise she might never have done it.

The last person Gabriel had expected to see when he went to answer the door was Marianne. He’d assumed it would be Dan, who sometimes called in at this time in the evening for a beer. It was automatic for him to ask her in. Gabriel had inherited a welcoming gene from his mother and not to have done so would have felt unnatural. One bonus he was discovering from Eve’s departure was that he could invite friends round again. Eve had been wary of people and hated entertaining, so over the years Gabriel had suppressed the welcoming side of his nature. He went into the kitchen to sort out drinks while Marianne browsed through his CD collection. It seemed natural and right that she was here. Gabriel was very glad she’d come.

‘What would you like to drink?’ he called from the kitchen. ‘Wine or beer?’

‘Actually, would you mind if I had something soft?’ said Marianne. ‘I hate going to work with a heavy head. You wouldn’t believe how bad it is trying to teach a bunch of five-year-olds with a hangover.’

‘Yes, checking on the sheep early in the morning is equally unforgiving,’ said Gabriel as he came into the lounge, scouring it for dirty mugs. ‘Sorry about the mess. I try hard not to, but it’s all too easy to slide into bachelor-pad chaos.’

‘It’s neater than my place,’ said Marianne, laughing as she put down a KT Tunstall CD. ‘Can I put this on?’

‘Be my guest,’ said Gabriel. ‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee would be great, thanks,’ said Marianne as she put the CD on.

‘So, how did the meeting go?’ said Gabriel as he sat down opposite her. The light from the lamps cast shadows across her face, but he could see from here the way her eyes lit
up as she talked, and the natural spontaneity of her manner. Marianne was like a breath of fresh air in his cobweb-filled life. She was bringing light and dance back into the unparalleled gloom he’d been living in since—since, well, forever. Gabriel had never liked to analyse it too much, but now, with a bit of distance between him and Eve, he was beginning to see just how unhealthy their relationship had been.

‘Not great,’ said Marianne. ‘Apparently the post office has got to go, but Miss Woods and Diana Carew are planning to join forces to set it up in the village hall instead. I have no idea if that is feasible or not but, hey ho, it will keep them happy.’

‘Miss Woods and Diana agreed on something? Wonders will never cease,’ said Gabriel.

‘My sentiments exactly,’ said Marianne. ‘But joking aside, I do hope it will work. It would break Vera’s heart to lose the post office. Not to mention causing a huge blow to the village community.’

‘You really like it here, don’t you?’ Gabriel said. ‘Don’t you miss the city at all?’

‘Sometimes,’ said Marianne. ‘But I fell in love with this place from the moment I arrived. I love its peace and tranquillity and the fact that I can go walking on the hills in all weathers. I feel hemmed in in the city. Here I feel free and alive and, well, happy, I suppose. I’m glad I was persuaded to stay.’

‘I’m glad too,’ Gabriel smiled at her shyly. He was glad, very glad. That Marianne had come into his life. That she was here now. He still didn’t know quite where this was leading, but he was enjoying the newness, the uncertainty, and the sheer joy of getting to know someone as uncomplicated as Marianne appeared to be. Yes, after Eve, she was definitely a breath of fresh air.

Marianne was enjoying herself too. After her initial anxiety that Gabriel might not want her here, he had put her so much at her ease, she was relaxing into their normal cosy friendship again. She had never been this relaxed with Luke. Never. The whole time she’d been with him, Marianne realised with a jolt, she’d been on tenterhooks in case she said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, or generally didn’t live up to expectations. That was no way to live your life.

‘Penny for ’em?’ Gabriel’s voice intruded into her thoughts.

‘Just thinking about Luke, and realising I had a lucky escape,’ said Marianne. ‘Oh dear, does that mean I’m no longer a member of the Lonely Hearts Club?’

‘You can be an honorary member,’said Gabriel.‘So what’s changed your mind about Luke?’

‘It’s taken me a while,’ said Marianne, ‘but it’s recently dawned on me that I was never ever going to fit in in his world. I can’t believe I was so stupid as to think I could.’

‘Yes, well, we all make mistakes,’ said Gabriel. He looked incredibly sad when he said this, and Marianne noticed the quick glance towards the photo on the mantelpiece.

‘Is that your wife?’ she asked. She was treading carefully, but this seemed the moment for confidences somehow.

Gabriel walked slowly to the fireplace and picked up the picture.

‘That’s me, Eve and Stephen when Stephen was first born,’ he said.

Marianne looked at the smiling couple, a small baby between them. It was hard to imagine that things could have gone so wrong.

‘You look really happy there,’ said Marianne. ‘She’s very beautiful.’

‘Eve was high as a kite on diazepam when that picture
was taken,’ said Gabriel. ‘And two weeks later she was in hospital, having taken an overdose.’

‘What on earth happened?’ Marianne asked, shocked. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.’

‘No, it’s probably good for me to talk,’ said Gabriel. He rubbed his stubble with his hands and put the picture back on the shelf. ‘She was—is—lovely, Eve. But she’s fragile. Very fragile. Her home life wasn’t exactly stable and I knew she was prone to getting a bit down about things before I married her. I thought I could help her, you see.’

‘And you couldn’t?’ Marianne prompted.

‘It’s like dealing with an alcoholic. You can’t solve their problems, only they can do that.’ Gabriel sighed, and looked as if he was in some very far-off, dark place. ‘It was different when we met, of course. I was in London, earning good money in marketing. Eve was a secretary in the same company, and we just seemed to hit it off. She was so lively and vivacious and fun. It never dawned on me that anything was wrong.’

‘What changed?’ prompted Marianne.

‘It was a while after we married when I realised she had a problem sticking at anything. I’d stayed with the same firm for five years during which time Eve had had six jobs. Then it was her mood swings. One minute she’d be on top of the world and then she’d be down in the dumps. I thought it was my fault, of course. I did everything I could to make her happy, but eventually she came clean and told me how bad her depression actually was. So we went to the doctor and she got some happy pills and she seemed all right for a while…’

‘And then?’

‘And then we had Stephen. I discovered afterwards that an event like that can trigger a psychotic episode in someone
like Eve, but I didn’t know that at the time. Eve seemed morbidly depressed that something would go wrong with the baby and was crying all the time. I couldn’t leave her alone with him for a minute as I didn’t know what she would do. One day I came into the room and she was holding a pillow over his face. She kept crying and saying it was all for the best, this world was too cruel, that it would have been better if he hadn’t been born. I took her back to the doctor, got her on stronger medication, and then a week later she tricked me into taking Stephen for a walk. When I got back I found her unconscious next to a suicide note.’

‘That’s terrible, oh, Gabriel, I’m so sorry,’ said Marianne.

‘It was,’ said Gabriel. ‘Eve was in hospital for months after that. Without my parents, who came down to stay with me, I don’t know what I’d have done. Eventually she came home, and over time things got better. After a while I thought about coming back here. Mum and Dad were finding the farm too much and Eve had always raved about how wonderful it was up here. I thought she’d like it. I went back to agricultural college, sold our house and we moved back.’

‘And did she like it?’

Gabriel sighed.

‘At first Eve seemed better here, but she never settled to being a proper mother to Stephen. And I couldn’t trust her with him…’

Marianne could see Gabriel was close to tears. Instinctively, she moved towards him and held his hand. He closed his own around hers and continued, ‘We staggered along like that for years. Never going out because Eve didn’t like difficult social situations. Never having people round because Eve couldn’t cope. I was constantly on edge in case she did something dangerous, either to herself or Stephen. Of late, I had thought she was getting better.
But last winter, she lost the little job she’d had in the village shop and suddenly she hit a downward spiral. I was on the verge of suggesting she go back to the doctor when she walked out.’

‘Where is she now?’ Marianne asked.

‘I have no idea,’ said Gabriel. ‘She was with her mother at Easter, but she wouldn’t talk to me then.’

‘What a terrible story,’ said Marianne. ‘So sad for all of you.’

‘Worse for Stephen than me,’ said Gabriel. ‘At least I can understand Eve’s ill, even if I hate it, but Stephen still doesn’t get why his mother is so different from other mums. For a long time he didn’t want to go to school because he was being picked on. In a way, it’s been better for him since she left.’

‘At least he’s got you and Pippa,’ said Marianne. ‘That will stand him in good stead.’

‘Do you think?’ said Gabriel. ‘I have to be both mother and father to him. And sometimes it’s really hard.’