The Christmas Spirit (9 page)

13th December

There were only two of them this year, thank goodness -
Friday the 13ths, that is. Natalie always felt she had to work a little bit
harder on those days, particularly if they fell in December. There was always
the possibility that Fate or other forces might be working against her. If
she’d known of Jacob’s plans, she would have tried to prevent him from carrying
them out, would have subtly hinted that another day might have suited better.

Rebecca had come into the café mid-morning and hugged both
her and Jacob. She wasn’t surprised, though, when Jacob turned an interesting
shade of pillar box red.

‘What’s all this about?’ Natalie asked her.

‘You know how I was in yesterday?’ Rebecca beamed at her.

‘Yes.’ Natalie recollected her being there when she had been
talking to Sophie.

‘Well, if it hadn’t been for you,’ Rebecca’s gaze took in
both Natalie and Jacob, ‘I wouldn’t have an interview as assistant manager of
The Melbourne Gallery.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Jacob, confused. He was delighted
Rebecca was hugging them, but at a loss to follow her reasoning.

‘Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Yesterday when I was
here,
The Scotsman
was lying on the table.’

‘Right,’ said Jacob, still none the wiser.

‘Well, after reading through loads of the articles, I came
across a job advert. I took the number, called them up and they did a telephone
interview. I’ve to go for a face-to-face interview on Monday.’ Rebecca jiggled
on the spot, her excitement obvious.

‘That’s brilliant,’ said Jacob, ‘Really good news.
Congratulations.’

‘Well, I haven’t had the interview yet, but you know how
difficult it is to even get an interview at the moment.’

Rebecca had no way of knowing just how much Jacob knew that
feeling. He had had more than his fair share of rejection letters and worse, no
word at all from around ninety-five percent of applications. That was the
hardest thing - not even hearing back, but then he knew there could be between
twenty and two hundred people going after one job.

‘This calls for a celebratory hot chocolate,’ said Natalie,
‘And today’s Christmas cake, if you fancy it?’

‘Oh, yes please. What’s today’s cake?’

‘Today I’ve made
cozonac romanesc
,
it’s a Romanian Christmas cake, a bit like the Italian
panettone
.’

‘Sounds wonderful and light; probably doesn’t even count as
eating cake from a calorie point of view, right?’ Rebecca winked at Natalie.

‘Absolutely not!’ came the reply of her partner in crime.

‘Pity we don’t have an alcohol licence, or we could toast
you,’ said Jacob.

‘Oh don’t worry, I stopped in at the pub for a glass of wine
after I called them. Well, if you’re going to celebrate, do it in style,
right?’ Rebecca shot him a huge grin, which reduced him to a deep crimson.

‘Right, why don’t you go and sit yourself down and Jacob
will bring your things over?’ Natalie said, as one of the suppliers arrived
just then, asking her to check and sign for some goods.

‘Can you bring it round the back, please?’ Natalie asked.
‘Jacob, I won’t be long. Can you manage?’

‘Sure, I’ll just get Rebecca her order.’

Whilst Natalie attended to the deliveries, Jacob whistled as
he prepared Rebecca’s hot chocolate. Had he been aware that the tune was
When I Fall In Love
by Nat King Cole, he might have chosen
not to do what he was about to; but he was a man on a mission. He plated up
Rebecca’s cake and took it towards her on a tray, still whistling.

Rebecca smiled up at him, amused, as he placed the items on
the table. Emboldened by her expression, Jacob decided it was now or never.

‘Rebecca?’

‘Yes?’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure. Today’s probably the best day. I feel like a kid in a
sweetshop,’ she said.

Hoping he would feel the same after asking his question,
Jacob said, ‘I just wondered if you might like to go for dinner or see a film
one night?’

Rebecca stared at him and Jacob knew he had said the wrong
thing. What an idiot. What had he done wrong? Was it the way he had phrased it?

Then Rebecca gave a wry smile and said, ‘Jacob, you’re a
really nice guy, and if the timing had been different, perhaps I would have
taken you up on your offer, but I’m literally in the middle of a bad breakup,’
Rebecca confided in him. She couldn’t believe she was telling him this. OK she
had told him about her interview, but this was something deeply personal which
had affected her confidence and her life.

‘I’m at the stage of deciding who gets which items of
furniture and you’re too nice to be my rebound guy,’ she said sadly.

‘It’s fine. Forget I asked.’

‘No, I’m flattered you did - thank you.’

‘No, seriously, please, forget I asked. I don’t want things
to be awkward when you’re here.’

‘They won’t be,’ Rebecca reassured him.

How embarrassing
, Jacob thought.
The worst of it was he would gladly have been anything to her, rebound guy
included. He appreciated that Rebecca wasn’t in a position to start a new
relationship, but it still didn’t buoy his spirits. Jacob retreated behind the
counter with his
joie de vivre
somewhat muted.

Natalie didn’t ask what was wrong with him, but she worked it
out from the glances he gave Rebecca and those she threw him. Sighing she
thought, my job isn’t always easy.

It was with a heavy heart and a broken one that Jacob headed
home that night, but he perked up when he remembered his sister would be there.
She’d arrived the night before. They’d stayed up late drinking, well, he had.
Tabitha had said she was too tired and anyway it was red wine he had in, which
always gave her shocking hangovers.

‘Hello, darling brother.’ Tabitha grabbed him around the
middle as he came into the hall.

‘What do you want?’ he said flatly.

‘Hey!’ Tabitha grabbed Jacob by the arm and turned him to
face her. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Jacob, spill, now!’

Reluctantly he told her about his conversation with Rebecca.

‘OK - that’s pretty crappy, but it’s not as if she told you
to bog off or anything. She’s only just split up with this guy and the last
thing you want to do is get involved with someone who’s still caught up in
another relationship.’

Jacob admitted the truth of this, then said, ‘Mmm, what’s
that smell?’

‘That,’ said Tabitha, turning towards the kitchen, ‘Is my
aubergine cannelloni.’

‘Smells better than it sounds,’ grumbled Jacob. ‘Where’s the
meat?’

‘Oh shush, you’ll love it, I guarantee you.’

‘So, what have I done to deserve this?’ Jacob eyed her
suspiciously.

‘Well, you’re letting me stay until after Christmas, and I’m
eating your food...’ Tabitha said.

‘Tabs, there’s no way I had the ingredients for aubergine
cannelloni - I’ve never bought an aubergine in my life.’

‘Whatever,’ Tabitha said, waving him away from the oven,
where the cannelloni were almost ready. ‘Help me set the table, I’m starving.’

As Tabitha used kitchen tongs to put the cannelloni on their
plates, Jacob observed her closely. She looked tired, but...happy was the word
which fitted best, whereas he knew he just looked tired.

‘I can’t move,’ Jacob groaned half an hour later.

‘Good, ‘cos I want to have a nice long chat,’ Tabitha told
him.

‘You’re not going to lecture me, are you?’ Jacob asked,
dramatically glancing around for a possible escape route.

‘Hardly. Me, lecture you? No, I think you’ll find it might
be the other way round,’ she said unsmiling.

What?
Tabitha never did anything
wrong. She was perfect. Straight A student, entrepreneur, highly successful,
achieved everything she set out to do and more besides. Jacob remained silent
whilst Tabitha composed herself.

Eventually she just came out with it. ‘I’m pregnant.’

Jacob stared at her in disbelief, unable to make the words
come.
Pregnant? How? Who? When? I mean I know the how, but
she doesn’t even have a boyfriend
. ‘Pregnant? You’re having a baby?’ he
blurted out.

‘Yep. I’m twelve weeks. I just had my scan the other day.’
She leant forward and passed him a piece of paper - a sonogram picture. His
nephew or niece. Taking the picture in his hands, he inspected the little
collection of cells outlined on it. Yes, you could just make out that that was
the head and that was possibly the curve of its back and those were its legs.
My God, Tabitha was having a baby!

‘This is so real,’ Jacob managed, stroking the scan picture.

Unable to keep her smile in check, Tabitha said, ‘I know.’

‘So you’re happy about it?’ Jacob asked her, although what
he really wanted to know was who the father was.

‘Of course, look at it - it’s beautiful and about the size
of a passion fruit now.’

Jacob knew there was a joke to be made there, but decided
now was not the time. ‘So, do you know what it is yet?’

‘Yes. It’s a baby,’ she teased. ‘No, you can’t tell that
until much later, around twenty weeks, but I don’t want to know. Finding out on
the day will be enough for me.’

‘Good.’ Jacob’s mind was still racing, trying to work out if
Tabitha had told him she was seeing anyone, or even sleeping with anyone, but
he drew a blank.

‘So,’ he came straight out with it, ‘Does the father know?’

Tabitha hesitated before saying, ‘Not yet, but I’ll tell
him.’

‘So, you’re not together anymore?’ Jacob fished.

Twisting her hair into a French roll by way of a
distraction, Tabitha said, ‘Well, we were never actually together. He’s a
client.’

‘Oh, Tabs.’

‘I know, never mix business and pleasure. Pity I didn’t
follow my own mantra this time,’ she said, pain etched on her face.

‘Is he,’ Jacob didn’t know how to or if he should broach
this subject, but finally plumped for ‘Available?’

‘Well done on your subtlety, but I can see through you,
remember?’ Tabitha said to him. ‘That would be too easy and I never do anything
the easy way, do I? He’s married with two kids.’

‘Shit!’

‘I know. Never mind. I will tell him, though, but make it
clear I don’t want anything from him. I’m not out to wreck his family life and
it’s not as if I need his money.’

Jacob nodded in agreement. Tabitha had always been
self-sufficient. Rising from the sofa, he went over to her and hugged her.
‘Tabs, apart from it not being an ideal situation, I’m so happy for you. You’ll
be a great mum and I get to be an uncle,’ he said happily, as he kissed her on
the cheek. ‘Congratulations.’

‘Thanks, you also get to be godfather.’

Jacob’s head whipped round. ‘Really?’

‘Well, who better?’ Tabitha asked, as she smoothed down her
dress where it had rumpled from Jacob leaning over her.

‘Oh, because I’m such a good role model – successful, an
achiever…’ but Tabitha broke in,

‘Stop that self-pitying crap. You’re a kind, loving,
grounded person who is exactly the role model he or she will need.' She sang a
line from a well-known song by The Beatles.

Jacob laughed then and put his arm around her. ‘Well, I’ll
certainly give the baby plenty of love. So have you thought about where you’re
going to stay once the baby comes?’

‘Ah, I’m glad you brought that up. I was hoping we could
stay here.’

14th December

‘Thanks,’ Meredith told her sister, as she opened the car
door for her. Although the hospital had allowed her to be discharged, it was
under strict conditions. Since she had no-one at home to care for her, they had
only agreed when Amelia, Meredith’s sister, had said that she would be coming
to her house to stay for as long as it took her to recover. She had already
prepared the guest room. As Meredith walked slowly up the remaining few steps
of Amelia’s house to the front door, she drank in its extraordinary beauty;
wooden, glass-fronted, a mix of Scandinavian and Italian, but paying homage to
the countryside. Amelia had even tried to get on Grand Designs when they were
building the house, just for fun, but the programmers told her they had
recently shot an episode in Scotland, so it would be some time before there would
be another, and Amelia and her husband, Gareth, hadn’t wanted to delay the
build. But it was the view which was the most impressive, open panoramas over
Loch Lomond from three sides of the house; it truly was stunning.

Inside it was no less striking: underfloor heating in the
bathrooms, the ultra-modern kitchen with only the Aga hinting at the
traditional, the high ceilinged, wooden beamed, airy bedrooms with dressing
rooms attached, and marble lined the hallway. No expense had been spared and
the result was quite something. It was a fantastic home in which to bring up
the kids, too, as they had their own zones within the house; a play room, a den
of their own, as well as there being a family area where everyone gathered in
the evening and at weekends.  There Gareth would read the newspaper whilst the
children did their homework or watched TV, and Amelia read her book or did the
crossword; it was family heaven, but something else entirely for a single
person.

Meredith wasn’t used to such noise, activity or untidiness.
Amelia saw her shock at the state of the living room when they entered. Max,
three, was lying on his tummy using crayons to draw in his Peppa Pig colouring
book; Edward, seven, was slumped on the sofa playing his tablet computer with
about six or seven empty sweet papers strewn on the sofa cushion beside him;
Alannah’s foot was tapping against the coffee table, where she nearly knocked
over a glass of juice which was perched close to the edge of the table, as she
sang along to whatever tune was playing on her iPod. Having ear buds in meant
she had no idea how out of tune she was. At eleven, she was the second eldest;
and then there was Jasper, who was reading, and remarkably seemed able to
concentrate amidst all the chaos. But then, Meredith supposed he must be used
to it. She wasn’t. She felt quite ill at the prospect of having to chat with
all these people, even if they were her nephews and niece.

Fortunately Amelia knew Meredith well, despite the fact they
didn’t spend a great deal of time together, and she saw how overwhelming and
bewildering it all was for her.

‘Let’s go into the kitchen,’ she said, once she had greeted
her clan with a kiss on the head each, to cries of,
Get off,
Mum!
from some and a hug from others.

‘Sit yourself down,’ Amelia told Meredith, ‘And I’ll make us
some tea. Would you like anything to eat?’

Meredith shook her head. She would have preferred coffee,
but Amelia had suggested tea. Unlike her usual self, she didn’t argue the
point; she didn’t have the energy. Glancing around her sister’s kitchen, it
occurred to her how homely everything looked and as if it got used. She thought
of her own kitchen, which contained so many items which she had barely taken
out of the box. Her coffee machine was the only gadget she really put to good
use. Her kitchen work surfaces shone, mainly because of her cleaner and perhaps
because she rarely dirtied them.

As she watched Amelia make tea, a sense of calm descended
over her. The kitchen was like an oasis set apart from the madness of the rest
of the house. She remembered that the guest bedroom was at the back and was
grateful for that. Perhaps she could read or work on her laptop in peace there.

‘Did you have someone stop by my office to pick up my
laptop, like I asked?’ she enquired of Amelia.

‘Nope,’ Amelia replied cheerily. ‘The doctor said you have
to rest and he meant it. You’re burnt out, which is why you got sick in the
first place.’

Amelia could be as bossy as Meredith when she set her mind to
it. Meredith had no-one to take care of her and although Amelia would hate to
be termed a busybody, she would interfere if the situation called for it - like
now.

Meredith didn’t know whether to be incensed or grateful. In
some ways it would be nice to have a rest, something she never did, but in
others, she had a company to run and Sophie, for all she was a great assistant,
knew nothing about running a company.

‘I have a company to run,’ she reminded Amelia.

‘Yes, yes, I know. Do you think this hasn’t happened to
anyone before, especially those with their own companies? Well it has, and
doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders, otherwise you’ll risk having a relapse and
going back into hospital. So you see, it makes sense just to rest now,’ came
Amelia’s sage response.

Meredith could see the truth in that, but surely it couldn’t
be good for her health for her to be feeling so anxious about what was
happening to the company whilst she was gone?

‘It’ll be fine,’ Amelia broke into her thoughts, reading her
mind. ‘I’ve spoken to Sophie and we’re working this out together. She can
handle most things and if she can’t and no-one in the office can, she’ll let me
know. So far she hasn’t needed to contact me. See?’

Should she be insulted or delighted that her staff didn’t
feel they needed her? Maybe she could take an occasional day off, then, if they
felt they could cope? But she knew that it was she who had problems letting go
of the reins.

Sipping the tea that Amelia put in front of her, she decided
she had to concentrate on getting better. She knew that she was a long way from
being fit and well, so the most important thing was to recuperate as quickly as
possible, so she could get back to work.

‘Do you have anything I could read?’ she asked Amelia, her
expectations low.

‘Well, what kind of books do you like? I have chick lit,
crime, thrillers, non-fiction. Any of those do you?’

She did like a good thriller, or she had when she’d last
read a book a few years ago - the last time she took time for herself.

‘A thriller would be great, thanks.’

‘Give me a minute. Gareth finished one last night. I think
he left it in the living room. Said it was fantastic.’ Meredith watched
Amelia’s retreating back, then heard her talking to the children. A few barely
audible groans emanated from them in response, then she returned with the book,
‘There you go.’

‘Thanks. I’m quite tired, actually.’ She yawned then said,
‘I think I’ll go up to my room for a while.’

‘Come on, then, I’ll show you where everything is. No, leave
your bag, I’ll get it,’ remonstrated Amelia, ‘You’ve not to do overdo it.’

Meredith mumbled her thanks again and climbed the stairs to
the guest room. When Amelia told her to go in, she opened the door and was
greeted with a profusion of flowers; roses, lilies - maybe not the best choice,
but still sweet of her, and chrysanthemums, placed in a lovely arrangement on
the dressing table.

‘What lovely flowers,’ Meredith said, surprising herself.

‘Yes, Alannah made the arrangement for you,’ Amelia
explained. ‘She’s very good. She always does ours, too. I’m rubbish, and she
insisted on making a special arrangement for you coming to stay.’

Meredith was touched. So, her sullen, monosyllabic
niece could be sweet and unselfish? She had barely said two words to Meredith
when she arrived. In fact she hadn’t said two words, she’d only said, hi, then
returned to her foot tapping.

As Meredith surveyed her surroundings, taking in the
pristine quilted hundred per cent cotton comforter, the abundance of pillows,
and the immaculate guest room she had been given, she thought,
maybe this won’t
be so bad after all
.