Never Can Say Goodbye (32 page)

The first present was a pack of lavender fragranced drawer sachets. She loved lavender. She’d told Brian this once. He must
have remembered.

The second present was equally wonderful: a set of lace-trimmed hankies. Cherish had told Brian she hated the trend for tissues,
even if they were more hygienic. She loved her delicate hankies and laundered them all carefully on a Monday morning.

Brian, Cherish thought, as the bed became covered in discarded wrapping paper, must have listened to everything she’d ever
said to him.

There was a tiny purse, because she liked to keep her change separate from her notes, and some pretty stretch gloves in a
Fair Isle pattern, and a small old-fashioned manicure set with orange sticks for the cuticles, and a little box of sugared
almonds, and a wipe-clean cover for her television and radio listings magazine.

Cherish, almost crying with happiness, slid her hand into the toe of the stocking for the last present. As she unwrapped it,
she laughed out loud.

It was a very tiny, soft, plush pale-blue teddy bear with a sash across its little chest that read ‘Friends Forever’.

‘Oh, Brian,’ Cherish murmured as she sat the teddy bear on her bedside cabinet. ‘Oh, thank you so much. This is my best Christmas
since … well, I can’t remember when.’

She wondered if he’d opened his stocking yet, and if he’d be as pleased as she was. She really, really hoped so.

Cherish looked at her presents again in total delight. Then, being Cherish, she put them tidily to one side, and neatly folded
all the wrapping paper before settling back on her pillows and sipping her tea, staring out at the winter wonderland outside.

Happy, happy Christmas.

*

Brian arrived at twelve on the dot as they’d arranged. Cherish was waiting for him in the hall, wearing her best fawn coat
and her best brown beret, her handbag on her arm, her presents for him in a carrier bag. She’d opened Frankie’s present while
she’d had her breakfast to carols on the radio, because, knowing that Brian wouldn’t have presents from anyone else, she didn’t
want him to feel awkward.

It was perfect, Cherish had thought, running her fingers over the diary and notebook and clicking the lovely pen open and
shut. How clever of Frankie to give her something so wonderful and so useful. It was exactly what she would have chosen for
herself. She really hoped Frankie would enjoy her bath cubes, too.

‘Happy Christmas, gel,’ Brian said gruffly, stepping into the hall. ‘And thank you more’n I can say for my stocking.’

‘And thank you for mine, too.’ Cherish beamed. ‘I loved it all. I couldn’t believe it. Everything was just perfect. You must
have remembered everything I’ve ever told you.’

‘Ah, maybe I have.’ Brian nodded, his wild hair even wilder, his big blues eyes filled with tears. ‘But you, Cherish, gel.
You couldn’t have given me anything nicer.’

‘You weren’t offended?’

Brian shook his head. ‘Offended? How could I be? It was the Christmas stocking I should have had when I was a lad and never
did. I’m not ashamed to say I bawled me eyes out. You are wonderful, Cherish. The best.’

Cherish exhaled, blushing. She’d bought all Brian’s stocking fillers in Winterbrook’s main toyshop and carefully wrapped the
colouring book and coloured pencils and stick-on transfers and some small cars and a jigsaw puzzle of 1950s steam trains,
and then she’d spent the remainder of her stocking filler money on
a festive selection box, a chocolate Santa and some chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil in a small net bag.

‘I’m so pleased you liked it all.’

‘Liked it –’ Brian was still damp-eyed ‘– I loved it, gel. I can’t wait to get stuck into the jigsaw later. This is the best
Christmas I’ve ever had. And the snow … well, that just takes the biscuit, doesn’t it? Are you ready to go, then, gel? I’ve
left me turkey in the oven and the veg is all prepared and the spuds should go in soon, so we ought to get a move on. Your
carriage awaits.’

Stepping carefully across the glittering ground, loving the creaking scrunch of the hard-frozen snow beneath her feet, Cherish
made her way to the kebab van. Brian opened the door for her, and she clambered up inside.

‘All in? Right, gel, off we go!’

Brian’s bungalow was simply wonderful, Cherish thought, as she left her brogues by the front door. Although it was much the
same size as hers, it seemed so much warmer and cosier. And it looked like Aladdin’s cave. Brian had garlands and baubles
everywhere, in every colour of the rainbow and then some. A Christmas tree sparkled with multicoloured lights in one corner
of the living room, with three presents underneath it, and a coal fire blazed in the hearth.

And, from the kitchen, wafted the delicious scents of roasting turkey and stuffing and … yes, surely that was the unmistakable
smell of a proper Christmas pudding steaming?

Cherish clapped her hands happily. She hadn’t smelled anything like it since she’d been a child.

Brian took her coat and beret and handed her a glass of sherry.

‘Cheers, gel.’ He clinked his sherry glass against hers. ‘Happy Christmas.’

‘Happy Christmas.’ Cherish sipped her sherry. ‘And this is such a lovely room. What gorgeous fat furniture – so deep and comfortable
– and all those plushy cushions.’

‘Ah, Rita did me proud when she left me this place. She knew how to make a homely home, did Rita.’

Cherish still gazed round in wonderment. ‘And a real fire – how marvellous.’

‘Real gas.’ Brian chuckled. ‘Looks the part though, don’t it?’

‘It does,’ Cherish marvelled. ‘I’d never have guessed. It looks exactly like the real thing. And it throws out so much heat.
It makes a nice change from my two-bar electric.’

‘Right, you sit yourself down,’ Brian said, indicating the pair of huge armchairs on either side of the fireplace, ‘by the
fire here and get warm. I’ll go and see to the dinner.’

‘Please let me help you.’

‘Won’t hear of it.’ Brian chuckled. ‘I’m having the time of my life out there, gel. I’ve never cooked for anyone else before.’

And after putting Dean Martin crooning Christmas ballads on the stereo, Brian bustled out of the room.

Cherish sank into one of the deep cushiony chairs and wriggled her stockinged toes in front of the fire as she sipped her
sherry. How simply fabulous this was. A proper Christmas …

They had dinner just before two o’clock. Brian had set the small dining table with red paper napkins, several red candles
and a glass vase filled with sprigs of holly. He’d even opened a bottle of sparkling wine.

Cherish stared at her plate – piled high with turkey and all the trimmings – and gasped. ‘I can’t eat all this! Oh, two sorts
of stuffing … and bread sauce! And chipolatas! And so many vegetables.’ She gazed at Brian across the table. ‘You’re a dark
horse, Brian. I had no idea you could cook like this.’

‘Neither did I, gel.’ Brian laughed. ‘It’s all been a bit trial and error, but I seem to have got the hang of it pretty quickly.
I hope it’s all right for you.’

‘Brian, it’s just wonderful.’ Cherish tried to remember her manners and not appear greedy, but it was difficult. The food
was so delicious. ‘I’ll never be able to thank you enough.’

‘Just seeing you happy is thanks enough for me,’ Brian said gruffly, concentrating on his food. ‘Seemed so silly, both of
us being alone today of all days.’

Alone, Cherish thought. All those lonely Christmases … But not any more.

‘Now you must let me do the washing up afterwards. I insist.’

‘No need,’ Brian said cheerfully. ‘Rita had a dishwasher. I’ve loaded it and it’s whirring away nicely. All mod cons, see?’

‘Luxury,’ Cherish said faintly. ‘Total luxury. You’re very lucky, Brian.’

‘I know. Don’t think I don’t thank my lucky stars every day. And I thought,’ Brian said as he poured them more wine, ‘that
we should be finished eating just in time to go through to the living room for the Queen’s speech, and then we could open
our presents in front of the fire. Do you think that would be OK?’

‘Perfect.’ Cherish nodded. ‘Absolutely perfect. Like everything else today.’

By three thirty, hardly able to move, Cherish flopped happily in the fireside chair. It had been, without doubt, the most
fantastic Christmas dinner she’d ever eaten. Now, she thought, with
the standard lamps glowing, the Christmas tree lights twinkling, and the dark December afternoon closing in on the white world
outside, it was like a dream come true.

‘Right –’ Brian looked like an overgrown schoolboy, his hair tousled and his eyes shining ‘– shall we do the presents now?
Then we can settle down and watch the film before we think about tea.’

‘Tea?’ Cherish squeaked. ‘I’ll never be able to eat tea!’

‘Course you will, gel. Just need to let your dinner go down first. Anyway –’ he blushed as he knelt down near the tree ‘–
these are for you.’

‘Thank you.’ Cherish took the packages. Three of them. Beautifully wrapped. ‘And these are yours. I bought three, too, and
they’re more sensible than the stocking fillers.’ She handed the carrier bag to Brian.

‘Thanks, gel.’ Brian settled himself into the opposite chair. ‘Right lovely this, isn’t it?’

‘Wonderful,’ Cherish muttered as she opened the first small package. ‘Oh, Brian! Scent! Anais Anais – ooh, it’s gorgeous.
How lovely. I never buy myself scent.’

‘I know, you said.’ Brian opened his first parcel. ‘It’s only the eaudy twaheltte or whatever they call it, not the real thing.
Couldn’t get the real thing with the money restrictions you set on me. Blimey, gel, thank you, this is right brilliant.’

Cherish laughed happily as Brian held up the warm woollen tartan scarf. Almost cashmere but not quite, but still soft and
perfect to keep out the cold when he was working on the flower stall.

‘And these too.’ Brian held up the thick fingerless thermal mittens from his second present. ‘I’ll certainly need them. I’ve
been wanting a pair of these for ages.’

‘Oooh,’ Cherish squealed with delight, opening her own second present. ‘How pretty!’ She held up the scarlet woollen scarf,
pull-on hat and gloves set.

Brian shrugged. ‘I thought you might like a splash of colour to go with your winter coat.’

‘I’d never have bought anything like this,’ Cherish admitted. ‘Not for myself, not in such a bright colour, but you’re right
– it’ll look lovely. Thank you so much.’

‘You’re welcome. I’m so glad you like it. Funny that we’ve bought each other nice things to keep us warm, isn’t it?’

‘Great minds thinking alike?’ Cherish said, almost flirtatiously. ‘Or maybe we just know each other quite well now?’

‘I reckon we do. Oh, Cherish, gel.’ Brian opened his last present. ‘This is just lovely.’

Cherish smiled to herself. She’d really, really hoped Brian would like the book. She knew he wasn’t much of a reader, but
it was one of those nostalgia editions, with lots of pictures and snippets of news from the last fifty years.

‘Blimey, look at that! That’s just how I remember it!’ Brian was happily flicking through the glossy pages. ‘And that! And
this! Oh, I shall have hours of fun with this. You couldn’t have given me anything better.’

‘Or me,’ Cherish said in amazement, gazing at her final gift. ‘A Jane Austen box set. I’ve never had them all, and I do so
love them. How on earth … ?’

‘Ah, I cheated a bit on that one, gel. I asked Frankie about what books she thought you’d like. She said you’d told her you
was a Janet.’

‘Janeite.’

‘Ah, that’s it.’ Brian looked a bit puzzled. ‘I wasn’t sure what it meant.’

‘It just means that I’m a Jane Austen fan. And it was so clever of you to ask her.’ Cherish chuckled. ‘Oh, aren’t we lucky?’

‘Ah, we are that. Oh, just listen to that wind roaring out there. And here we are all snug and cosy and warm indoors just
waiting to put our feet up by the fire and enjoy a good film. Could there be anyone having a better time than us, gel?’

Cherish shook her head, happily snuggling down in her cushions and hugging
Pride and Prejudice
, which she thought she’d dip into if the film wasn’t perhaps to her taste. ‘Definitely not. Brian, thank you. Thank you so
much for making this the best Christmas I’ve ever had.’

Brian smiled happily. ‘It’s mine an’ all, gel. And it doesn’t have to stop here, does it? We could make a habit of this. We
sort of shake along right well together, don’t we? No point in us both being lonely, is there?’

Cherish shook her head. ‘No, there isn’t.’

‘So you wouldn’t object if we did this again, sometime?’

‘No,’ said Cherish happily. ‘No, I wouldn’t object at all.’

Frankie rolled over in bed, wriggled her pillows more comfortably, snuggled further beneath the pink and purple flounces,
and sleepily touched her earrings. Dexter’s Christmas present. Little stud earrings, shaped like pretty 1950s prom-frocks,
beautifully enamelled in pink and lilac complete with peeping net petticoats. Unbelievably beautiful. She’d wear them forever.
She closed her eyes again and drifted off, smiling.

Then the phone rang. And rang. And rang.

Groaning, eyes still closed, she fumbled and groped across the beside table. ‘Hello.’

‘Frankie, dear.’

‘Cherish?’ Frankie raised her head from her pillows and blinked blearily at her phone. ‘Is that you? Why are you ringing me?
What day is it?’

‘It’s the twenty-eighth, Frankie.’

‘Oh Lord – have I overslept? No, it’s not even seven yet. It’s the middle of the night. It’s still dark. Cherish, are you
ringing from a mobile?’

‘Yes.’ Cherish sounded agitated.

‘You haven’t got a mobile, have you?’

‘No, dear. It’s Dexter’s.’

Frankie blinked again. Was she still asleep? Why on earth was Cherish ringing her on Dexter’s mobile? Why was Cherish ringing
her at all?

Frankie had driven back from her parents’ house after midnight, carefully negotiating the hard-packed snow, and had fallen
gratefully into bed. And she’d only been asleep for about five minutes, hadn’t she?