Last Christmas (28 page)

‘Can she actually do that?’ Pippa demanded a few days later, when Gabriel came round to tell her what had happened.

‘Apparently she can,’ said Gabriel as he sat down heavily in Pippa’s cosy kitchen. ‘I don’t know what to do, Pippa. What if Eve takes Stephen away from me?’

‘But would she be granted custody with her mental health history?’ said Pippa.

‘I’d have to bring that up,’ said Gabriel. ‘I don’t know that I want to do that. I don’t even want it to go to court. It wouldn’t do Stephen any good to think we were wrangling over him like two dogs with a bone. Particularly as Eve seems determined to dwell on the fact that I wouldn’t let Stephen speak to her at Easter. God, I wish I hadn’t done that.’

‘What does Stephen think?’ Pippa asked.

Gabriel looked out of the window and sighed.

‘I haven’t figured out a way of talking to him about it yet,’ he admitted. ‘He’s so excited his mum is home, I can’t bear to tell him he might have to choose between us.’

‘He might not have to,’ said Pippa.

‘Eve seemed pretty determined to get him back,’ sighed Gabriel. ‘She says she really wants to make it up to him for the times she’s let him down.’

‘But is that wise?’ argued Pippa. ‘Eve is so fragile, who’s to say she won’t have another relapse?’

‘She does seem much better,’ said Gabriel. ‘I think she was probably right, I didn’t help her. She’s got herself a job and a flat in London, and has been seeing a therapist who seems to be helping.’

‘What?’ Pippa looked at him in horror. ‘You don’t mean she’s planning to take Stephen back to London with her?’

‘I do,’ sighed Gabriel. ‘But if he wants to go, what can I do? She’s his mum after all. I can’t stand between them. Besides, Stephen’s pretty cross with me right now. He found out that Eve was at her mum’s at Easter when I told him she wasn’t. He’s saying that he wants to go and live with her and not me.’

‘Gabriel North, sometimes you’re too soft,’ said Pippa. ‘Sure Stephen’s cross with you, and rightly so, but you can’t just let Eve waltz back in and take him back. You have to fight. Have you talked to a lawyer yet?’

‘No,’ said Gabriel. ‘I keep hoping it won’t have to come to that. I just wish we could find a way of solving things so that we’re all happy. But most of all, I don’t want Stephen to suffer any more than he has already. Ultimately, it’s up to him. If he wants to go and live with Eve, I won’t stop him.’

‘There you are, Mum,’ Cat led her mother into the lounge and sat her down. ‘Let’s get you a nice cup of tea.’

‘I want to go home,’ Mum looked determined—a look Cat was coming to know well.

‘Mum, you know that’s not possible right now,’ said Cat soothingly.‘We talked about this in the hospital,remember?’ Why was she even saying that, she knew her mother wouldn’t remember. The speed at which the memory loss was progressing was frightening. Although sometimes it
seemed as if Mum was totally
compos mentis
, an hour spent in her company was enough to make Cat realise how ill-equipped she was now to look after herself. After a while the conversation would become circular, and Mum would repeat whatever they’d been talking about earlier, as if it had never been mentioned before. Or she would stare off into the distance. But then, weirdly, she’d launch into a tale from Cat’s childhood with the clearest of detail. It was as though parts of her brain had just shut down, like a power plant running on the spare generator.

‘But I want to go home,’ Mum was starting to get agitated. ‘I don’t like it here. Why won’t they let me go home?’

At that point Noel came in. He looked unkempt. Cat had been aware that he had been up half the night tossing and turning, and he’d muttered something about not feeling too great this morning so hadn’t gone into work. But she’d been so tied up with Mum, she hadn’t got to the bottom of his misery. Making a mental note that she really really must spend some more time with her husband, Cat smiled more brightly than she felt and said, ‘But we want you to be here with us, don’t we, Noel?’

‘Of course we do,’ Noel said with a smile, which somehow didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed awkward and ill at ease and Cat, remembering how unenthusiastic he’d been about Mum coming to stay with them, suddenly had a panicky feeling that he wasn’t as supportive of her as she wanted him to be.

But then he moved round swiftly helping Mum with her coat off, and sitting her down and making her a cup of tea, and charming her in a way only he could. Noel had always loved Mum, and she him. Cat felt a warm rush of gratitude and love for her husband. Not everyone would cope so well with this difficult situation. Soon Mum
was much calmer, and had forgotten all about going home.

‘Do you want me to do the school run?’ Noel asked.

‘Crikey, is that the time?’ Cat looked at her watch in dismay. Just getting Mum home and settled down had taken the best part of an hour. How on earth were they going to manage every day?

You manage because you must
, Mum’s mantra from her early childhood popped into her head. It’s what she always said when people asked her how she’d coped being left on her own with Cat when her father had left.

‘That would be wonderful, thanks, Noel.’ She shot him a grateful look and, as he went to get his coat, got up and gave him a hug and a kiss. It felt like ages since she’d been so spontaneous with him. She needed to make more time for Noel. That was a given. And how would they manage with everything? Well, they would, because there was no other choice.

Marianne was scouring the Internet, looking for a decent modern translation of the Shropshire Nativity play. Miss Woods had given her a version that was rather too full of mediaeval Shropshire dialect, which no one was going to understand.

‘Aha! Gotcha,’ she said as a search engine took her to a site based on mediaeval Mystery Plays. Here it was.
A Shropshire Nativity
translated by Professor A. Middleton. Perfect. Just what she needed.

Marianne printed off the copy that she’d found and started to pull together a list of carols. She’d found a CD of old-fashioned carols, and listening to ‘I syng of a Mayden’ had brought tears to her eyes, as had the beautiful ‘Balulalow’ by Britten. She wondered if Gabriel would object to Stephen singing it as a solo. He had such a beautiful voice. She’d
also listed the ‘Sussex Carol’, the ‘Coventry Carol’, ‘Silent Night’ and ‘It Came Upon the Midnight Clear’ and Christina Rossetti’s achingly beautiful ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’. What she was after was simplicity and purity, and all of those carols fitted the bill perfectly. She just hoped the committee would be as enthusiastic as she was. Marianne knew that here was an opportunity to put on a very special Nativity play and maybe if they were lucky enough to win the competition, give something back to the village that had helped her over the last year.

She started reading through what she’d printed off and making notes, and then decided to go and see Miss Woods, whose knowledge of this kind of stuff was not only encyclopaedic but, being Shropshire born and bred, was very likely to know more about how to put on something like this. In fact, it was Miss Woods talking about how there had been a mediaeval mystery play at Hopesay Manor in her youth that had first put the idea in her head.

Gathering her things and putting her jacket on, she made her way into the village.

She was coming up to Miss Woods’ house, when she saw—oh my God, it couldn’t be…There was Luke pinning up a notice outside the Parish Centre. She hadn’t seen him in months, and annoyingly she felt a little knot of inner tension form as she approached her former fiancé.

‘Luke,’ she said stiffly, ‘it’s not often we see you in the village.’

‘Marianne,’ that dazzling smile again. ‘You look lovely as ever.’

‘Thanks,’ said Marianne feeling wrong-footed. Luke was being much friendlier than the last time they’d met. ‘What’s that you’re putting up?’

‘I’m inviting people to a public meeting,’ Luke said. ‘The vicar’s kindly let me use the Parish Centre. I wanted to explain
to people about the opportunities afforded to them by the eco town. Now that Hope Christmas appears to be in danger of flooding regularly, I thought people might like to know about the alternatives offered by living somewhere that is both environmentally friendly and capable of dealing with nature’s extremities.’

‘But I thought your village is on a flood plain?’ Marianne frowned. Pippa and Gabriel had been most vocal about that.

‘Not anymore,’ said Luke. ‘Our engineers are looking at ways of diverting the river. You’d be surprised what can be achieved nowadays.’

‘But won’t that be at the expense of something else?’ said Marianne.

‘Not a bit of it,’ said Luke. ‘We’re just sending the water in a different direction over the hillside, and providing people with a better class of home. I mean, look at this place.’ His arm swept across the High Street, which still looked distinctly dirty and shabby.‘Why would anyone want to live in one of these old damp houses, when they could have the convenience of the latest gadgets, a brand new leisure centre and a new hypermarket on their doorstep?’

‘Why indeed?’ said Marianne drily.

‘So, can I expect to see you at the meeting?’ he asked.

‘I doubt it,’ said Marianne.

‘Pity,’ said Luke. ‘We’re offering great rates for first-time buyers, and for key workers. You never know, you could qualify for a great discount.’

Marianne smiled at the thought that Luke might actually be doing something altruistic for once. ‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ she said. Discounts for key workers. She loved Hope Christmas, but she was never going to be able to afford to buy here. Suddenly living in the eco town seemed a more tempting prospect. She dismissed the thought almost as
soon as it entered her head with a wry smile—anything Luke was involved in was bound to have a catch in it.

Noel stood in the school playground freezing his backside off. It was the sort of grey damp wintry day where the cold got into your bones and the gloom of winter rotted your soul. He had a sudden desperate urge to be in Hope Christmas, which he instinctively knew would be cosy and cheerful at this time of year. He missed his trips up there so much that he’d eventually plucked up courage to ring the number Ralph had given him, but, when the phone was answered by Luke Nicholas, Noel had lost his nerve and hung up. Maybe Ralph was just being polite. Noel couldn’t quite muster his courage to ring again.

He stamped his feet to try and get them warm. Why did they always let them out late on cold days? He hated doing the school run at the best of times. Though it was true that there were a few more dads in the playground than when Mel had first started school, there was something about being surrounded by the Mum mafia that made him feel very nervous. Luckily he spotted Regina standing by Ruby’s classroom, so went over to say hello.

‘Am I glad to see you,’ he said. ‘I was just trying to keep a low profile and hoping no one was going to accuse me of being the pervert in the playground.’

‘Oh, come on,’ said Regina, ‘they do know you by now.’

‘I know,’ said Noel. ‘I just always feel as though all the mums I don’t know are looking at me as if I’m some kind of paedophile.’

‘The times we live in,’ said Regina, shaking her head. ‘No work today?’

‘No,’ Noel hesitated. He’d spent most of the last week getting up, putting on a suit, and pretending to go to work
as normal. He knew he couldn’t go on doing that, but he didn’t now know how to tell Cat.

‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘Cat doesn’t know this yet, but actually I’ve lost my job.’

‘You what?’ said Regina. ‘Oh, Noel, I’m so sorry. But why on earth haven’t you told Cat?’

Noel shrugged.

‘I was going to, but what with her mum and everything, it’s been difficult.’

‘You can’t keep it a secret anymore,’ said Regina. ‘For heaven’s sake, Noel, she needs to know the truth. She deserves the truth.’

‘I know,’ said Noel. He couldn’t explain the apathy that seemed to be afflicting him of late, or the sheer unmitigated terror the thought of telling Cat was causing him. He knew it wasn’t rational, but he hadn’t felt rational for months. ‘And I will. Soon.’

‘Soon?’ Regina said. ‘You should tell her now, really you should.’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ said Noel, turning to greet Ruby who’d come running out shouting ‘Daddy!’ excitedly. A definite bonus of the school run was the delight with which his children greeted him.

‘Tell who what?’ Ruby asked as Noel swung her in the air.

‘No one anything, you nosy thing,’ he said, kissing her on the nose.

As he walked home with the children, making small talk with Regina, Noel was wrestling with his conscience. Regina was right. Sooner was much better than later.

He walked in to find Cat cooking while her mother was dozing in the lounge. The children dropped coats, bags and lunch boxes and proceeded to badger their mother with accounts of their day. Eventually Noel managed to shoo
them all into the family room, from where Paige called, ‘The shelf ’s fallen down again’,before settling into watching
Tracy Beaker.

Taking a deep breath, and feeling sicker than he’d ever felt in his life, Noel went over to Cat and took her in his arms.

‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ he said.

Cat was flicking through entries for the Nativity competition. They’d had so many Bev had decided to split them into batches for everyone to sort through. Cat was busy putting hers into piles of no hopers, possibles and definite maybes. The pile of no hopers was depressingly large, and she had a sneaky feeling that the possibles pile had grown larger over the last hour or so as a sense of desperation crept in. She only had three choices on the definite maybes.

The trouble was that most of the entrants hadn’t followed the brief properly. They hadn’t asked for a Nativity with bling (roughly a third of the no hopers were Nativity plays awash with bright lights and flashing Santas), nor for the PC ecumenical versions favoured by the sort of schools Cat’s children went to (she’d read some entries that lacked a single mention of the baby Jesus). Cat was ambivalent about religion, but surely the whole point of the thing was that you had to mention the birth of the Son of God. Didn’t you?

The three that Cat had picked off the pile hadn’t exactly filled her with excitement—the one from the Cornish village of Treadlightly had sounded quite sweet on a first read, but now she was feeling dubious about the thought of watching a Nativity outside in a barn, complete with animals and newborn baby (provided one was helpfully born in the
village that week). Hadn’t they heard the old adage about working with children and animals? Still, it sounded better than the Clevedon Preschool calypso version, which had only caught her eye because it sounded lively, or the rather po-faced traditional (she had wanted tradition, Cat reminded herself ) Nativity offered by the straight-laced sounding Arlington School for Girls. Cat told herself off for allowing a prejudice against public schooling to prevent her accepting that they might actually come up with the goods.

None of them inspired her enormously. What was it she’d been after exactly? Cat cast her mind back to last Christmas and thought about that moment in Sainsbury’s when she’d suddenly been heartily sick of it all. What Christmas was missing these days was simplicity. Simplicity and any sense of the spiritual. It was all about greed and excess now.

Feeling rather depressed, Cat got up and headed out for an early lunch, and the chance to do some Christmas shopping. She’d never been so behind at Christmas before, but what with Mum’s illness, and now Noel losing his job, Cat was finding it hard to summon up any enthusiasm whatsoever for the festive season. She was still reeling from the fact that Noel had been unable to tell her about his job. Since last Christmas it felt like their lives were unravelling, and now he’d shut her out at a time when he had needed her most. Cat felt powerless to help Noel, but somewhere deep in his soul she feared there was a terrible problem.

Cat mooched miserably down Oxford Street, wandering into shop after busy shop piled high with tat, blaring out ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day’. The streets were packed, people spilling off the pavements, till Cat felt sure it was only a matter of time before someone went under a bus. At Oxford Circus there was the inevitable bomb scare,
rendering the tube station shut and an influx of yet more people into an already overcrowded area. Giving up in disgust, Cat returned empty-handed to the office. As she was about to go through the revolving glass doors, an elderly man who looked vaguely familiar appeared as if from nowhere and tapped her on the shoulder. He was clutching a brown envelope in his hand.

‘Catherine Tinsall, I believe,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ said Cat with a frown. ‘How did you know?’

‘I make it my business to know everything,’ said the man, touching his nose. ‘I believe you’re looking for entries to a Nativity competition.’

‘That’s right,’ said Cat cautiously.

‘Of course you want to know why I ask,’ said the man. ‘Quite right too. Here’s our entry. The Parish Committee was terribly worried about the Christmas post, so as I was coming to London, I said I’d hand-deliver it.’

‘Well, thank you very much,’

‘My pleasure,’ said the strange man. He doffed his cap to her and vanished into the crowd as mysteriously as he’d appeared. One minute he was there, and then he was gone.

Cat went back into the office, made herself a cup of tea, and sat down to read the entry. It could hardly be any worse than anything she’d seen so far. It was from a village called Hope Christmas. Appropriate, she thought, smiling, trying to work out where she’d heard the name before. The accompanying letter was from a Marianne Moore, who was a teacher at the village school. Hope Christmas? The name was familiar. It was only when she got to the end of the letter and discovered that, if Hope Christmas won the competition, they were planning to rebuild their village hall, which had been destroyed in the recent floods, that the penny dropped.
Of course.
It was near where Noel’s company had been building the eco town. The letter ended with an eloquent plea
citing the importance of the village hall, which was at the heart of the community, especially now the village was losing its post office.

Cat turned to the accompanying script. It was laid out professionally—typed with double spacing as requested, which made a change. As she read it, Cat nearly punched the air with delight. Here at last was a simple retelling of the Christmas story. Marianne had gone back to an original Nativity from an early version of a Shropshire mystery play. She’d included a funny scene where Joseph sought out two midwives to attend the labour, and a charming moment with dancing shepherds who were unsure how to take the angels’ news. Cat liked the sound of Marianne. But the moment when the baby was born was pure and simple and just what she’d been looking for. Accompanying the script was a carefully selected set of carols, some of which Cat was unfamiliar with but others, like the ‘Coventry Carol’, were guaranteed to bring a tear to the eye. This was perfect.

She rang home to ask if Noel knew anything about the suggested location, a small chapel to the side of Hopesay Manor, clearly a local stately home.

‘Hopesay Manor?’ said Noel. ‘Yes, I’ve been there. I don’t know about the chapel, but the estate itself is fantastic. I wanted to revitalise the old houses on the estate but was overruled. Remember?’

Cat guiltily cast her mind back to something Noel had been moaning about months ago. She felt constantly guilty around him these days. In the fortnight since he’d come clean about his job, he’d been so tense and unhappy Cat never knew what mood he was going to be in. The only good thing about the current state of affairs was at least he could help keep an eye on Mum, though she felt guilty about that too. It didn’t seem fair to impose that on Noel. But she
was constantly feeling torn between the responsibilities of the workplace and those of her home. One day she might even work the balance out right.

‘Can you come home soon?’ Noel said. ‘Your mum’s getting agitated again and I can’t calm her down.’

‘I’ll try,’ promised Cat. Maybe Bev, whose patience with Cat’s domestic arrangements was reaching its limit, might be a little more tolerant when she knew Cat had found their Nativity. Maybe. Cat had a horrible feeling that a moment of reckoning was drawing near. She was facing some tough choices but, with Noel out of work, she couldn’t possibly think of quitting her job.

‘Stephen, what’s the matter?’ Gabriel had come in from checking on the ewes, who were about to be bred for spring lambing, to find his son sobbing uncontrollably while Eve looked helplessly on. They’d spent the last few weeks cautiously dancing round the issue of what was to happen next. Eve had gone back to London for a little while, apparently to consult a solicitor. Gabriel still hadn’t been able to bring himself to find one. He kept hoping that they could resolve this another way. Until then, he had pleaded with Eve not to let Stephen know what was happening, but clearly she’d been unable to keep it secret any longer.

‘I thought he’d be pleased,’ she kept saying. ‘I thought he’d want to come and live with me. All I want is to put things right.’ She paced the kitchen, getting ever more frantic. Gabriel recognised this behaviour of old. In a minute, she was going to sit down and start shredding a beer mat or whatever else was to hand. Gently, he sat her at the table, uttering soothing noises, but inside he was seething. Why did she always have to be so destructive? Then he went to their son.

‘I don’t want to live with her,’Stephen spat out, between sobs. ‘I don’t have to, do I?’

‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,’ said Gabriel. ‘I’m sure we can find a way of working this out.’

‘But you said Mummy was back, Daddy.’ Stephen raised a tear-stained face and Gabriel’s pain shot through his heart. His inaction over the last few weeks had led to him betraying his son yet again. ‘I thought we were all going to be together again.’

‘I thought so too,’ began Gabriel. ‘But Mummy and I, well, we’ve been talking and we don’t think we can live together anymore. So we’re trying to find a way that you can live with us both. I know it’s not ideal, but we think it’s for the best, don’t we, Mummy?’

Eve was sitting rocking back and forth saying, ‘Why do I always get it wrong? I just wanted to make up to him. Why does he hate me?’

‘Eve, have you taken your medication?’ Gabriel was seriously alarmed. This was the worst he’d seen her for a while.

‘No, no, you’re right, I should,’ Eve looked confused for a moment, and then got up and went to her bag, and found some pills.

‘And you lied to me, Daddy.’ Stephen said suddenly.

‘Stephen, we’ve already been through this, I didn’t lie—’ began Gabriel.

‘You told me Mummy wasn’t at Granny’s house when she was,’ said Stephen.

‘I know I did,’ said Gabriel, ‘and I’ve already told you how sorry I am. I just didn’t want you to be upset.’

‘That’s not true,’ said Stephen. ‘You’re a big fat liar and I don’t want to live with you either. I want to go and live with Auntie Pippa.’

With that he pushed Gabriel aside and ran upstairs in floods of tears. Gabriel sat back in dismay. Eve seemed to
be calming down a bit but was totally unaware of the chaos she had caused. How on earth were they ever going to resolve this?

‘Crikey, it feels good to be home,’ said Pippa, as Marianne helped her pull the last bit of furniture back into place. She and Dan were moving back in at the weekend, and Marianne had popped in after school to help her sort the house out while the children stayed with Pippa’s parents.

‘What’s the long-term damage?’ Marianne asked.

‘I think we’ve been very lucky,’ said Pippa. ‘These houses are pretty solid and, fortunately for us, the flood swept through quite quickly, and subsided fairly smartly too. It was worse for the houses on the High Street.’

‘Do you think those places will recover?’ said Marianne.

‘Hard to tell, isn’t it,’ said Pippa. ‘Some of them are very badly damaged, and it will be hard now for those properties to get insurance.’

‘So you’re not tempted by Luke’s offers of new housing?’ said Marianne.

‘Not a bit of it,’ said Pippa. ‘I know you were going to marry him, but I don’t trust that man as far as I can throw him. I’m sure that eco town will still flood, whatever he says.’

‘They’re offering some pretty good deals,’ said Marianne wistfully. ‘Even I could afford one.’

‘Marianne, please tell me you haven’t,’ said Pippa.

‘No, no, I haven’t done anything,’ said Marianne. ‘I did go and look at the mocked up showhome. And it is very nice. But the ground is very damp still. It would be like living in a bog. I can’t see that changing in a hurry. It’s just that I’ll never afford to buy around here otherwise.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Pippa. ‘That was insensitive of me. I’m
lucky, I don’t need an eco house. But if I did, I can see where you’re coming from. Maybe he has really sorted things out.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Marianne. ‘Maybe he has.’

They both looked at each other and laughed.

‘On the other hand,’ said Pippa, ‘leopards don’t change their spots.’

‘How’s Gabe?’ Marianne had been trying very hard not to probe, but it was impossible not to at least ask Pippa how he was. She’d barely seen him since Eve had come back. Only fleeting glances and nods down the High Street. Gabriel always looked pleased to see her when she said hello, but Marianne felt so shut out of his life now, she wasn’t sure if he meant it or not.

‘Fine, I think,’ said Pippa. ‘To be honest, I haven’t seen that much of him myself. I’ve been so busy sorting everything out here. And I know he and Dan have been working all hours tupping the ewes and getting the winter feed sorted out. None of us has had a moment.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Marianne. ‘Silly of me.’

‘You could phone him,’ said Pippa. ‘I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ said Marianne, but she knew she wouldn’t. This was just too complicated and painful. It was better if she stayed away.

Noel sat at his keyboard and stared into space. He was meant to be tarting up his CV, which was why he was actually playing Minesweeper. Like so many things these days, it felt like a huge effort. Just the thought of getting on the Internet and starting to look at jobs was filling him with despair. He had managed to sign on at a job agency but, as Will had predicted, work was very lean. He thought again about Ralph Nicholas’ offer. It was wildly impractical.
So long as Cat’s mum was with them, he couldn’t even contemplate a job that took him out of London. He couldn’t see what was going to happen, or how they were going to manage. All that he knew was, while the present was uncertain, the future was on hold.

‘Noel!’ His mother-in-law called plaintively from the lounge. Noel sighed. What did she want now? Noel could feel all his good will towards Louise leaching away as she became more and more dependent on him and Cat. Cat had no idea of how incredibly difficult it was being here in the day with her. No, that wasn’t true, Cat did know, because as soon as she came in, she took over, and she was arranging work as much as possible to be at home as often as she could. But one of them had to go to work.

He went into the lounge and his heart sank as he realised that his mother-in-law had had another accident. They’d said it was likely to happen, and now it was happening more and more frequently. She was still just (thankfully) thought Noel, capable of sorting herself out enough for him not to have to clean her up, but these daily incidents were mortifying for both of them.