Chapter IX
Samantha was in the middle of making herself breakfast Christmas morning when the phone rang.
“Hi, it's Pete!”
“Pete!” squealed Samantha. “Oh my god, how much I've missed you!”
“I miss you loads too. Slavemeister Steve has yet to drag himself into the office so I thought I'd sneak a phone call in.”
“Aw, how sweet!”
Samantha was genuinely happy. This was the first time Pete had called and it hadn't been in reference to the wedding plans or an update on his work schedule.
“So, how have you been? Up to much?”
“Not really,” Samantha replied, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could pour the just-boiler water from the kettle into her coffee cup. “Just making breakfast right now and then off to Mum's for dinner. I'm not gonna go to your 'rents for drinks this evening.”
“Why not? They're looking forward to seeing you!”
“It'll be awkward. We're supposed to be talking about the wedding plans and I don't want to do it on my own. And they'll no doubt moan about how you're in Newcastle and you're not able to see your poor old mother and father in their old age…”
Pete laughed out loud and Samantha had to follow suit.
“I'm sorry,” she said, “but you know what they're like!”
“I do,” confirmed Pete, “and I'll tell them you're not coming, if you want.”
“You are a hero!”
“Oh, aren't you supposed to say that with a sigh in your voice, a hand over your heart, and pretend to swoon?”
“Only if you're Jude Law.”
“I could be James Bond…”
“He's a spy, not a hero.”
“He's a heroic spy.”
“That's not heroism, it's his job.”
“So who's a hero then?”
“Jude Law!”
“Fine, I give up!”
Samantha laughed again. It was nice to laugh and to hear Pete laughing with her. It was all the little things she missed, like the sound of his laugh; his hand brushing against her fingertips; the way he'd let her lean against him on the Tube when they had to stand among a continuously growing throng of people pushing into the carriage and packing themselves in like sardines in a aluminium screw top can.
“Shit, the Slavemeister just walked in. I'll try and call later, okay?”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye!”
“Bye.”
Samantha waited for the phone line to go dead before removing the receiver from the crook in her shoulder and replacing it on the base unit. She felt the initial emptiness that always came after she'd spoken to Pete. It never went away and she never tired of it happening. She knew that the day she didn't feel slightly empty after Pete had gone, was the day she didn't love him any more.
She clutched her coffee cup and slumped on the sofa, wrapping her slipper clad feet underneath her, and arranging her dressing gown so it covered her knees and cocooned her into a snug roll of super-soft towelling. Amy had given her the dressing gown for Christmas and had insisted she open it before she went away with her parents to visit her relatives in the Midlands. She stroked the material, her fingertips lingering over the tiny pale blue embroidered star detailing on the collar and cuffs.
Samantha gazed at the small artificial tree Stuart had purchased. She had decorated it in a frenzy of Christmas spirit, sprinkling the branches with clear fibreglass icicles, plastic snowflakes coated in silver glitter, and shiny silver baubles. She had then added some clear baubles with glitter pieces inside them, and covered the whole tree in twinkling white lights shaped like snowdrops. It was a picture of silvery, wintry wonderland. That same evening, Stuart and Samantha went to town wrapping their presents in various colours of wrapping paper, ribbons, rosettes and name cards. Stuart had also bought home from work a range of old cardboard boxes to put his presents into first, admitting he was “terrible at wrapping presents and the only way forward is to nick the old stationery boxes from work and wrap them instead!“ The presents now sat under the tree, begging to be unwrapped and displayed in all their glory. Samantha could easily pick out her ones: deep purple and gold for her friends; and white, silver and gold for her family and in-laws. She saw a small box at the side that clearly had her name on the tag. Stuart was at his parents' in Maidstone and seemed to have buggered off with her present to him.
She unwrapped herself from her towelling dressing gown cocoon and dropped to her knees so she could reach out underneath the side branches for the box. She turned the name card forwards to double check it was for her: To Sam from Stu - Merry Chrimbo!
She stayed on her knees and sat back on her heels. She ran her fingers over the paper to find an edge of sticky tape to pick at. Finding a corner, she carefully pulled the tape away with her fingers and unwrapped the paper from the contents. The paper fell to the floor and Samantha was left holding a cardboard box that had once housed a ten-pack of post-it notes. She lifted the cardboard flaps and saw a snow globe sitting inside the box. She lifted it out carefully and saw a label attached to the bottom: The figures inside are more recognisable than you think!
“What does that mean?” Samantha said to herself.
She peered into the snow globe and saw a married couple. She looked closer at their faces. It was unmistakably Pete and herself. Stuart had bought her a handmade snow globe with her and Pete inside. It was the best present in the world! Samantha felt genuinely touched. She quickly got up and rummaged in her handbag for her mobile. She knew Stuart would have his switched off. She quickly texted him to thank him. It was definitely the most thoughtful gift she'd received for a long time and was valuable in sentimentality.
She now returned to the sofa, playing with the snow globe and making it rain confetti on the happy couple trapped inside the glass. She flipped the television on to look at the schedule. Predictably, it included White Christmas with classic crooner Bing Crosby and George Clooney's great aunt Rosemary; The Wizard of Oz with feisty Judy Garland; It's A Wonderful Life with the charmingly handsome James Stewart; and A Christmas Carol, starring St Trinian's star Alistair Sim. She looked at when It's A Wonderful Life was on. Four o'clock. She'd make her excuses and leave her mother's in time for the film. A bit of Frank Capra was not to be missed. A sing-a-long to Buffalo Girl had to be done. And crying at the part when George Bailey discovers daughter Zuzu's petals was an all-important task in her Christmas ritual. She selected the programme and set it to come on automatically. She then took her empty coffee cup into the kitchen, slammed it in the dishwasher, and went into the bathroom to get ready for dinner at her mother's.
Christmas at Samantha's mother's had started amicably enough. Samantha had arrived and made small talk with her mother and Lauren. Her mother had then disappeared into the kitchen, steam billowing out of the heavy door that separated the kitchen from the lounge as she slipped through the doorway. The smell of roasting turkey reached Samantha's nostrils but it didn't overwhelm the strong smell of pine that came from the living evergreen sitting by the front window, seven feet tall and towering over the scattered wrapped presents sitting by its feet.
“Isn't the tree fabulous?” Lauren said proudly to Samantha. “We got new decorations, all in red and gold. Rich sumptuous colours.”
Samantha smiled and nodded. “It looks great.”
“Mum didn't like the white and silver decorations,” Lauren added. “She said it looked cold and bleak.”
“Oh,” Samantha said.
“You sound as if you have silver decorations on your tree.”
“We do.”
“Oh.”
“No, I know you didn't mean to be offensive. You know, each to their own.”
Their mother reappeared in the lounge.
“Drink, Samantha?” her mother asked her.
“Yeah, just water for now, please Mum.”
Her mother turned to Lauren.
“How about you Lauren?”
“I'll have some more of the vanilla flavoured coke, please.”
Their mother left the room again.
“How has she been?” Samantha asked Lauren in low tones.
“Not so bad lately,” Lauren replied. “Or maybe I'm just getting used to it. In any case, she's only been going out to go shopping for Christmas presents or food.”
“Does she seem any better emotionally?”
“I think she's just throwing herself into Christmas now.”
The girls stopped talking as their mother re-entered the room.
“Here you go,” she said, offering their drinks to them on a tray. “Cheers.”
They all lifted their glasses from the tray, clinked them together, and took a gulp from the contents they held.
“So, Pete's in Newcastle for Christmas?” Lauren asked Samantha. “You said he'd be at home at least Christmas Day and Boxing Day.”
“Change of plans,” Samantha sighed, peering into her glass. “His boss has decided that they all have to stay and work until something is over. I wasn't really listening. I'm just a bit peeved about the whole thing really, so I wasn't paying much attention to the detail.”
“So you think he'll be home for New Year then, instead?” her mother asked her.
“He doesn't know,” Samantha replied sadly.
They all stood there in silence, sipping their drinks. Samantha began to swirl the contents of her glass around, creating her own mini tornado.
“How are the wedding plans going?” Samantha's mother broke the silence.
“Oh, they're coming along nicely, thanks Mum,” she replied. “Just the damn caterers that are causing any hassle. They never seem to be around and apparently have an extremely high turnover of reception staff.”
“Who are you using?”
“Clarke Catering and Co. They're supposed to be friends of Pete's parents so I don't want to tread on any toes by complaining too much, but…”
“Complain,” her mother interrupted. “It's the only way you get anything done nowadays. I find myself having to speak to the manager in most places I walk into now.”
“Right,” Samantha said.
Silence held court in the room again.
“I'd better go check on the veg,” her mother said, making her excuses to leave.
As soon as she disappeared, Lauren and Samantha immediately began to talk to each other.
“What is with the awkward silences?!” Samantha exclaimed. “It's like I'm afraid to talk in front of her anymore.”
“I know,” agreed Lauren. “And I just want to talk to you, really. It's just that somehow, I don't feel comfortable with Mum listening in.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean…”
“Dinner's ready, girls!” Their mother called them into the dining room and they duly trooped out.
The dining room was situated between the lounge and the kitchen. The room was warm from the hot air generated in the kitchen, despite the kitchen window being flung wide open to disperse the excess steam. The girls walked in, pulled out the chairs from underneath the table and sat down so they were evenly spaced around the table, save the empty chair at one end, where their father would have been sitting. Today, it had obviously been laid out for Pete, and Samantha instinctively cleared away all the items so there would be more clear space on the table.
“I cooked for four so there's plenty to eat,” their mother said, starting to prod the plate of turkey cuts with a two-pronged serving fork. She dealt out some meat pieces for herself and then passed the plate to Lauren. The same order followed for the carrots, sweet corn, new and roast potatoes, parsnips, sausage and bacon rolls, and a generous spoonful of sage and onion stuffing. A jug of gravy was positioned in the centre of all the plates and bowls of food scattered across the table. Two tall, thin, red candles had been placed in the very centre of the table, each with a hat of flickering yellow and trimmed at the bottom with a miniature holly wreath. These were now flanking the gravy jug at close proximity and Samantha watched to see if any of the slowly melting wax would drip into the gravy jug. It would certainly make this Christmas a little more livelier.
Lauren left the table and returned with a tall jug of water for the table and a bottle of white Lambrusco. She methodically began to pour a glass of water for each of them, and then followed suit with the wine. She then kept held of the glass of wine she had poured for herself last and raised it in a bid to toast.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, trying to ease the disturbing silence that kept falling upon them.
“Merry Christmas,” Samantha and her mother said in unison, lifting their glasses also and then taking a hearty gulp from them.
The toasts done with, the gravy jug was passed around the table and they all began to tuck in.
“Sorry about not making a starter,” their mother apologised after taking one mouthful. “I just didn't feel up to it this year.”
“That's okay, Mum,” Samantha said, quickly swallowing her mouth of sweet corn so she could reassure her mother without much pause. “Starters are over-rated and, in any case, it only further contributes to the fact that Christmas is merely an excuse to eat way too much than we need to.”
“I suppose that's true,” her mother replied.
“Yeah, I agree,” Lauren said, helping herself to more water. “We never have starters before a main course except at Christmas. So why do it then?”
“I guess it's meant to be special, like a change from the norm,” Samantha explained. “But it's not needed to be honest. This is fine, Mum,” she added, looking directly at her mother.
They resumed eating again but it was only a matter of time before Samantha asked what she had been meaning to ask for the last couple of months.
“So, how have you been coping, Mum?” she asked her mother gently.
“Mm, okay,” her mother replied, mumbling into her food and obviously not wanting to go into great detail.
Samantha locked her jaw, wondering whether she really needed to confront her mother at this particular time. She looked at Lauren for a clue. Lauren looked tired, like she hadn't slept properly for a few days. She thought about how Lauren had skipped the first two weeks of college and they had refused to take her on this year because of her absence. Her thoughts moved on to how Lauren was having to deal with the death of her father and the very recent split with her boyfriend at the same time. She then thought about her mother had been totally unsupportive to all Lauren had been trying to deal with.
“Mum,” Samantha began slowly, not sure how she as going to say the words or what reaction was going to come out of them.
“Yes?” her mother replied.
“Lauren said you've been going out quite often lately,” Samantha said.
“And?”
“Well, I just wondered if it was a new club or hobby you've taken up.”
“No.”
“I'm trying to be interested in what you're doing, Mum.”
“I've just been broadening my social horizons a bit, that's all,” her mother stated, taking a large mouthful of wine and wincing slightly from the sudden alcohol overload.
“Oh, so you're going to social evenings?”
Her mother stopped eating and propped her elbows on the table, resting her face in her hands.
“Is there a problem, Samantha?” she asked.
Samantha looked at her mother with some confusion and glanced at Lauren, who had been watching this conversation unfold with growing caution. Samantha looked back at her mother and said, “It's just a question, Mum.”
“You are criticising my going out and having a social life.”
“No, I'm not!” Samantha exclaimed. “I'm asking a couple of questions!”
“Which are butting into my private life!” her mother answered, her voice raising to try and end the conversation.
“Your life is my life too,” Samantha said, “and it's Lauren's even more since she lives here.”
“I don't poke my nose into your private life,” her mother said, “so stay out of mine. It's none of your affair what I do if and when I choose to go out in the evenings.”
“It is my affair!” Samantha protested loudly. “You made it mine when you brought a strange man into the house without even okaying it with Lauren!”
Her mother looked at Lauren and then back at Samantha. “I'm not going to talk like Lauren isn't in the room,” she said. “Lauren,” she said, turning to her youngest daughter, “I told you that I was bringing someone home.”
“You didn't say he was staying over,” Lauren answered quietly.
“I asked you if it would be okay if someone stayed over maybe…”
“And I said I was uncomfortable with it and I had issues with people I don't know very well,” Lauren finished. “You just seemed to disregard that conversation and let him stay over anyway.”
“Why ask Lauren's opinion when you weren't even going to wait for the answer?” Samantha asked, accusingly. “You'd already made up your mind so why bother? So it sounded as if you cared (?)”
“Look, if I knew this was going to upset the pair of you…” her mother started.
“… You wouldn't have done it?” Samantha interrupted. “You would have stayed in and supported your daughter in a period of considerable grief?”
“Just in case you've forgotten,” her mother said heatedly, “Frank was my husband! I loved him with my whole life…”
“… and yet you couldn't wait to get a replacement,” Samantha cut in, full of sarcasm. “Out all hours of the night, partying with strange people you don't know… You think this even registers anywhere on the scale of responsible behaviour?!”
“You don't understand!” her mother yelled at her, slamming her hands down on the table and standing up from her chair. “Your father left me and I am nothing! I so desperately want to be something and I am nothing! Do you have any idea what that even begins to feel like?!”
Her mother suddenly burst into uncontrollable sobs and abruptly sat down in her chair again, burying her face in her hands, shaking and hiccupping. Lauren had tears streaming down her face as she watched her mother suddenly crumble under the weight of her personal grief and sadness. Samantha too felt the tears and saw her mother the way she had wanted to see her: torn apart with the intense sorrow and pain that had been caused by the death of a father and husband. Samantha left her seat and crouched down next to her mother, tentatively reaching out at her arm and gently brushing the woollen cardigan sleeve as she ran her hand up and down the lower part, from the elbow to the wrist.
“Mum, I'm sorry,” she managed to say, the words stumbling as they reached her lips and just falling out at random intervals.
Her mother pulled her face out of her hands and looked at her eldest daughter. Her eyes were puffy and still shiny with tears at the ready. Her mouth was drawn downwards and her bottom lip very slightly quivered as she willed herself to stop crying.
“Oh Sam,” she finally whispered, reaching out and brushing her thumb across Samantha's cheek, “darling, this wasn't supposed to happen.”
“I know, Mum,” Samantha whispered back. “It was a terrible thing and we must all move on, but not now. There's still plenty of time before…”
“It's not that,” Mum interrupted. “I just…” she stopped and shook her head. “No, it's fine.”
Samantha moved back into her seat and looked at Lauren. Her sister was furiously wiping away the tears that had ran over her cheeks and fallen from her jaw on to her top.
They all resumed eating the now mostly cold contents of their plates in another period of silence, save a slight sniffle from one of them, still trying to stop the emotions flowing from their eyeballs.
“I'm done,” Lauren said, breaking the silence and loudly clattering her knife and fork together on her plate. Her plate wasn't empty though, and she looked as if she just wanted to leave the table.
“I'm done, too,” Samantha said, chewing her way through her last piece of lukewarm turkey and pushing her parsnips to one side. She didn't like them much and certainly couldn't face them today.
“Okay, go into the lounge and I'll bring out Christmas pudding,” their mother said, pushing her chair away from the table.
The girls did the same and rushed into the lounge, whereupon the television was immediately switched on and a music channel was selected. The original Band Aid song was in the middle of play and the moving bar at the bottom of the screen promised its viewers it would be playing Christmas hits all day non-stop.
Their mother walked in with a bowl of Christmas pudding in each hand. The pudding had been treated to a dash of brandy and was now soaked with single cream. They all dug in, commenting on how the brandy should have been a little more generous and the pudding a tiny bit more fruity. The argument seemed to have been conveniently forgotten.
Lauren got up from the sofa and disappeared into the kitchen for five minutes before reappearing with coffee and white chocolate mint cream wafers. Presents were handed out between the three and then distributed by Lauren on behalf of the various family members and family friends that had dropped presents over during the last couple of days. Samantha received her usual gift range of more toiletries she could shake a stick at, as well as a cheque from her grandparents, cash from her great aunt Mabel, and some gift vouchers for Virgin Megastores.
“Oh, I got Virgin gift vouchers too,” Lauren commented, seeing Samantha rip open the envelope and the vouchers falling from the torn paper. “From John?”
“Yep,” Samantha said. “What is it with vouchers that people think are so great? They scream, 'I don't know you well enough to get you a proper present so I'm just getting vouchers' or 'I couldn't be bothered to buy a present and wrap it so I'm just stuffing a voucher into an envelope'. It's not as if John is someone we've only known a short while. He's been our neighbour and friend for fifteen years!”
“Maybe it's what he wants for Christmas and he's giving them to you to give you the hint?” Lauren suggested.
“He could just say so,” Samantha sighed. “It took me ages to find those paintings for his new study.”
“Did you really like what I got you?” Lauren asked her.
Samantha reached out for her present from Lauren. It was a DVD set containing a handful of episodes of her favourite childhood television programmes.
“I love this present!” Samantha said, grinning at her sister and hugging the box set. “It has Jamie and The Magic Torch, Will O' The Wisp, Bagpuss, Button Moon, Dangermouse, SuperTed, and… Oh, Dogtanian and the Muskerhounds! What more could a gal want?!”
“I tried to get you a copy of The Amazing Cities of Gold but it wasn't happening,” Lauren said reluctantly.
“I'm not surprised,” Samantha said. “It was a Spanish cartoon dubbed in American English.”
“But so was Dogtanian!”
“I guess…”
“I'll try again next year!” Lauren declared.
The afternoon was light-hearted enough and, although Samantha was sorry she had managed to make everyone cry, including herself, she was glad that some of the hidden tension and secrets were now in the open and may now be easier to deal with. Her mother and Lauren definitely had to talk to each other more often if any headway was to be made.
Samantha glanced at her watch. It was nearly half past three. She needed to leave so she could watch It's A Wonderful Life in peace.
“I should be making a move,” Samantha said, gathering up her presents and looking for a way of transporting all the stuff.
“Don't leave yet,” complained Lauren. “Pete's not here so you might as well stay for tea.”
“Yeah, don't go yet, Samantha,” her mother joined in. “You're quite welcome to stay longer.”
“I should go,” Samantha said, “and Pete might have called me again and I wouldn't want him to be all lonely at Christmas!”
“Okay, well safe journey home!” her mother said.
“I'll walk you to the door,” Lauren volunteered and she ushered Samantha through to the entrance porch.
Samantha turned and hugged her sister. “Bye Lauren, take care of you.”
“Yeah, take care of you,” Lauren said, returning the hug. “And thanks for what you did at dinner.”
“Yeah, a runaway success story that was (!)”
“No, but you meant well and I am really grateful that you did that. Everything is out in the open now. It's better.”
“Yeah, well, you've got to keep the channels open now,” Samantha said. “Don't bottle it all up, okay? Let Mum know how you're feeling about anything and everything, and she'll hopefully do the same.”
“I wonder what she was about to tell us at dinner?” Lauren mused.
“I don't know,” Samantha said, slightly confused herself about the weird ending to it all. “I guess she decided that what ever it was, it was best left unsaid.”
“I guess...”
“Okay, well, see ya.”
“See ya,” waved Lauren.
Samantha reached her dark flat and fumbled for the light switch. Her answering machine was blinking. She rushed over, not even pulling off her scarf or coat, and pressed the 'Play' button.
“Hi it's Pete. No answer from your mobile so you must still be at your Mum's. I called my parents and okayed tonight for you. I'm really sorry but I don't think New Year is going to be a possibility, especially since we've been promised snow and Steve can't afford to have me trapped in it away from the office. Ring me back and let me apologise in person, okay? Love you!”
The message cut off and Samantha glared at the machine. The nerve Pete had! Honestly. All she wanted was to see her boyfriend and after three months, it was still denied. She wouldn't call him back. Not right away anyway. She knew they'd have a horrible argument and didn't want to have bad air between them. It was just so difficult maintaining a long distance relationship. They had been with each other all the time and had never been apart for more than two days at a time. And now… It was too much for her. She needed a real break from everything. A chance to recharge her batteries before all the events of next year took all priorities.
Her eyes travelled over to the computer in the corner. With the very near future looking bleak and increasingly lonely, she decided that she needed a little fun time and, if Kevin was the man to introduce her to it, then that was the way it was going to be. She made up her mind and sat down in her computer chair, pulling her coat and scarf off as the computer booted up. She activated the internet connection and opened her email. Finding Kevin's email regarding the party, she clicked 'Reply' and wrote:
Would love to go to the party. Pick me up about 8pm from Ashley House on Contract Road. Samantha
That done, she switched on the television, took the telephone off the hook, and settled down to watch her film. Her thoughts flitted occasionally to the email she had just sent Kevin. Would he get the wrong idea and think she wanted more than a fun time? No, she decided, he wouldn't. And if he did she'd just firmly rebut his advances. And in any case, it would be easier to return the unwanted laptop gift if she were a little alcohol fuelled and Kevin would be more likely to be unoffended by the return of his gift if he were alcohol fuelled too. The opportunity was too good to miss and, with all the hassle about wedding plans, Pete's absence, and the departure of her friends over the Christmas period, at least the party gave her something to look forward to.
Back to Chapter VIII
Go to Chapter X
“Hi, it's Pete!”
“Pete!” squealed Samantha. “Oh my god, how much I've missed you!”
“I miss you loads too. Slavemeister Steve has yet to drag himself into the office so I thought I'd sneak a phone call in.”
“Aw, how sweet!”
Samantha was genuinely happy. This was the first time Pete had called and it hadn't been in reference to the wedding plans or an update on his work schedule.
“So, how have you been? Up to much?”
“Not really,” Samantha replied, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could pour the just-boiler water from the kettle into her coffee cup. “Just making breakfast right now and then off to Mum's for dinner. I'm not gonna go to your 'rents for drinks this evening.”
“Why not? They're looking forward to seeing you!”
“It'll be awkward. We're supposed to be talking about the wedding plans and I don't want to do it on my own. And they'll no doubt moan about how you're in Newcastle and you're not able to see your poor old mother and father in their old age…”
Pete laughed out loud and Samantha had to follow suit.
“I'm sorry,” she said, “but you know what they're like!”
“I do,” confirmed Pete, “and I'll tell them you're not coming, if you want.”
“You are a hero!”
“Oh, aren't you supposed to say that with a sigh in your voice, a hand over your heart, and pretend to swoon?”
“Only if you're Jude Law.”
“I could be James Bond…”
“He's a spy, not a hero.”
“He's a heroic spy.”
“That's not heroism, it's his job.”
“So who's a hero then?”
“Jude Law!”
“Fine, I give up!”
Samantha laughed again. It was nice to laugh and to hear Pete laughing with her. It was all the little things she missed, like the sound of his laugh; his hand brushing against her fingertips; the way he'd let her lean against him on the Tube when they had to stand among a continuously growing throng of people pushing into the carriage and packing themselves in like sardines in a aluminium screw top can.
“Shit, the Slavemeister just walked in. I'll try and call later, okay?”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye!”
“Bye.”
Samantha waited for the phone line to go dead before removing the receiver from the crook in her shoulder and replacing it on the base unit. She felt the initial emptiness that always came after she'd spoken to Pete. It never went away and she never tired of it happening. She knew that the day she didn't feel slightly empty after Pete had gone, was the day she didn't love him any more.
She clutched her coffee cup and slumped on the sofa, wrapping her slipper clad feet underneath her, and arranging her dressing gown so it covered her knees and cocooned her into a snug roll of super-soft towelling. Amy had given her the dressing gown for Christmas and had insisted she open it before she went away with her parents to visit her relatives in the Midlands. She stroked the material, her fingertips lingering over the tiny pale blue embroidered star detailing on the collar and cuffs.
Samantha gazed at the small artificial tree Stuart had purchased. She had decorated it in a frenzy of Christmas spirit, sprinkling the branches with clear fibreglass icicles, plastic snowflakes coated in silver glitter, and shiny silver baubles. She had then added some clear baubles with glitter pieces inside them, and covered the whole tree in twinkling white lights shaped like snowdrops. It was a picture of silvery, wintry wonderland. That same evening, Stuart and Samantha went to town wrapping their presents in various colours of wrapping paper, ribbons, rosettes and name cards. Stuart had also bought home from work a range of old cardboard boxes to put his presents into first, admitting he was “terrible at wrapping presents and the only way forward is to nick the old stationery boxes from work and wrap them instead!“ The presents now sat under the tree, begging to be unwrapped and displayed in all their glory. Samantha could easily pick out her ones: deep purple and gold for her friends; and white, silver and gold for her family and in-laws. She saw a small box at the side that clearly had her name on the tag. Stuart was at his parents' in Maidstone and seemed to have buggered off with her present to him.
She unwrapped herself from her towelling dressing gown cocoon and dropped to her knees so she could reach out underneath the side branches for the box. She turned the name card forwards to double check it was for her: To Sam from Stu - Merry Chrimbo!
She stayed on her knees and sat back on her heels. She ran her fingers over the paper to find an edge of sticky tape to pick at. Finding a corner, she carefully pulled the tape away with her fingers and unwrapped the paper from the contents. The paper fell to the floor and Samantha was left holding a cardboard box that had once housed a ten-pack of post-it notes. She lifted the cardboard flaps and saw a snow globe sitting inside the box. She lifted it out carefully and saw a label attached to the bottom: The figures inside are more recognisable than you think!
“What does that mean?” Samantha said to herself.
She peered into the snow globe and saw a married couple. She looked closer at their faces. It was unmistakably Pete and herself. Stuart had bought her a handmade snow globe with her and Pete inside. It was the best present in the world! Samantha felt genuinely touched. She quickly got up and rummaged in her handbag for her mobile. She knew Stuart would have his switched off. She quickly texted him to thank him. It was definitely the most thoughtful gift she'd received for a long time and was valuable in sentimentality.
She now returned to the sofa, playing with the snow globe and making it rain confetti on the happy couple trapped inside the glass. She flipped the television on to look at the schedule. Predictably, it included White Christmas with classic crooner Bing Crosby and George Clooney's great aunt Rosemary; The Wizard of Oz with feisty Judy Garland; It's A Wonderful Life with the charmingly handsome James Stewart; and A Christmas Carol, starring St Trinian's star Alistair Sim. She looked at when It's A Wonderful Life was on. Four o'clock. She'd make her excuses and leave her mother's in time for the film. A bit of Frank Capra was not to be missed. A sing-a-long to Buffalo Girl had to be done. And crying at the part when George Bailey discovers daughter Zuzu's petals was an all-important task in her Christmas ritual. She selected the programme and set it to come on automatically. She then took her empty coffee cup into the kitchen, slammed it in the dishwasher, and went into the bathroom to get ready for dinner at her mother's.
Christmas at Samantha's mother's had started amicably enough. Samantha had arrived and made small talk with her mother and Lauren. Her mother had then disappeared into the kitchen, steam billowing out of the heavy door that separated the kitchen from the lounge as she slipped through the doorway. The smell of roasting turkey reached Samantha's nostrils but it didn't overwhelm the strong smell of pine that came from the living evergreen sitting by the front window, seven feet tall and towering over the scattered wrapped presents sitting by its feet.
“Isn't the tree fabulous?” Lauren said proudly to Samantha. “We got new decorations, all in red and gold. Rich sumptuous colours.”
Samantha smiled and nodded. “It looks great.”
“Mum didn't like the white and silver decorations,” Lauren added. “She said it looked cold and bleak.”
“Oh,” Samantha said.
“You sound as if you have silver decorations on your tree.”
“We do.”
“Oh.”
“No, I know you didn't mean to be offensive. You know, each to their own.”
Their mother reappeared in the lounge.
“Drink, Samantha?” her mother asked her.
“Yeah, just water for now, please Mum.”
Her mother turned to Lauren.
“How about you Lauren?”
“I'll have some more of the vanilla flavoured coke, please.”
Their mother left the room again.
“How has she been?” Samantha asked Lauren in low tones.
“Not so bad lately,” Lauren replied. “Or maybe I'm just getting used to it. In any case, she's only been going out to go shopping for Christmas presents or food.”
“Does she seem any better emotionally?”
“I think she's just throwing herself into Christmas now.”
The girls stopped talking as their mother re-entered the room.
“Here you go,” she said, offering their drinks to them on a tray. “Cheers.”
They all lifted their glasses from the tray, clinked them together, and took a gulp from the contents they held.
“So, Pete's in Newcastle for Christmas?” Lauren asked Samantha. “You said he'd be at home at least Christmas Day and Boxing Day.”
“Change of plans,” Samantha sighed, peering into her glass. “His boss has decided that they all have to stay and work until something is over. I wasn't really listening. I'm just a bit peeved about the whole thing really, so I wasn't paying much attention to the detail.”
“So you think he'll be home for New Year then, instead?” her mother asked her.
“He doesn't know,” Samantha replied sadly.
They all stood there in silence, sipping their drinks. Samantha began to swirl the contents of her glass around, creating her own mini tornado.
“How are the wedding plans going?” Samantha's mother broke the silence.
“Oh, they're coming along nicely, thanks Mum,” she replied. “Just the damn caterers that are causing any hassle. They never seem to be around and apparently have an extremely high turnover of reception staff.”
“Who are you using?”
“Clarke Catering and Co. They're supposed to be friends of Pete's parents so I don't want to tread on any toes by complaining too much, but…”
“Complain,” her mother interrupted. “It's the only way you get anything done nowadays. I find myself having to speak to the manager in most places I walk into now.”
“Right,” Samantha said.
Silence held court in the room again.
“I'd better go check on the veg,” her mother said, making her excuses to leave.
As soon as she disappeared, Lauren and Samantha immediately began to talk to each other.
“What is with the awkward silences?!” Samantha exclaimed. “It's like I'm afraid to talk in front of her anymore.”
“I know,” agreed Lauren. “And I just want to talk to you, really. It's just that somehow, I don't feel comfortable with Mum listening in.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean…”
“Dinner's ready, girls!” Their mother called them into the dining room and they duly trooped out.
The dining room was situated between the lounge and the kitchen. The room was warm from the hot air generated in the kitchen, despite the kitchen window being flung wide open to disperse the excess steam. The girls walked in, pulled out the chairs from underneath the table and sat down so they were evenly spaced around the table, save the empty chair at one end, where their father would have been sitting. Today, it had obviously been laid out for Pete, and Samantha instinctively cleared away all the items so there would be more clear space on the table.
“I cooked for four so there's plenty to eat,” their mother said, starting to prod the plate of turkey cuts with a two-pronged serving fork. She dealt out some meat pieces for herself and then passed the plate to Lauren. The same order followed for the carrots, sweet corn, new and roast potatoes, parsnips, sausage and bacon rolls, and a generous spoonful of sage and onion stuffing. A jug of gravy was positioned in the centre of all the plates and bowls of food scattered across the table. Two tall, thin, red candles had been placed in the very centre of the table, each with a hat of flickering yellow and trimmed at the bottom with a miniature holly wreath. These were now flanking the gravy jug at close proximity and Samantha watched to see if any of the slowly melting wax would drip into the gravy jug. It would certainly make this Christmas a little more livelier.
Lauren left the table and returned with a tall jug of water for the table and a bottle of white Lambrusco. She methodically began to pour a glass of water for each of them, and then followed suit with the wine. She then kept held of the glass of wine she had poured for herself last and raised it in a bid to toast.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, trying to ease the disturbing silence that kept falling upon them.
“Merry Christmas,” Samantha and her mother said in unison, lifting their glasses also and then taking a hearty gulp from them.
The toasts done with, the gravy jug was passed around the table and they all began to tuck in.
“Sorry about not making a starter,” their mother apologised after taking one mouthful. “I just didn't feel up to it this year.”
“That's okay, Mum,” Samantha said, quickly swallowing her mouth of sweet corn so she could reassure her mother without much pause. “Starters are over-rated and, in any case, it only further contributes to the fact that Christmas is merely an excuse to eat way too much than we need to.”
“I suppose that's true,” her mother replied.
“Yeah, I agree,” Lauren said, helping herself to more water. “We never have starters before a main course except at Christmas. So why do it then?”
“I guess it's meant to be special, like a change from the norm,” Samantha explained. “But it's not needed to be honest. This is fine, Mum,” she added, looking directly at her mother.
They resumed eating again but it was only a matter of time before Samantha asked what she had been meaning to ask for the last couple of months.
“So, how have you been coping, Mum?” she asked her mother gently.
“Mm, okay,” her mother replied, mumbling into her food and obviously not wanting to go into great detail.
Samantha locked her jaw, wondering whether she really needed to confront her mother at this particular time. She looked at Lauren for a clue. Lauren looked tired, like she hadn't slept properly for a few days. She thought about how Lauren had skipped the first two weeks of college and they had refused to take her on this year because of her absence. Her thoughts moved on to how Lauren was having to deal with the death of her father and the very recent split with her boyfriend at the same time. She then thought about her mother had been totally unsupportive to all Lauren had been trying to deal with.
“Mum,” Samantha began slowly, not sure how she as going to say the words or what reaction was going to come out of them.
“Yes?” her mother replied.
“Lauren said you've been going out quite often lately,” Samantha said.
“And?”
“Well, I just wondered if it was a new club or hobby you've taken up.”
“No.”
“I'm trying to be interested in what you're doing, Mum.”
“I've just been broadening my social horizons a bit, that's all,” her mother stated, taking a large mouthful of wine and wincing slightly from the sudden alcohol overload.
“Oh, so you're going to social evenings?”
Her mother stopped eating and propped her elbows on the table, resting her face in her hands.
“Is there a problem, Samantha?” she asked.
Samantha looked at her mother with some confusion and glanced at Lauren, who had been watching this conversation unfold with growing caution. Samantha looked back at her mother and said, “It's just a question, Mum.”
“You are criticising my going out and having a social life.”
“No, I'm not!” Samantha exclaimed. “I'm asking a couple of questions!”
“Which are butting into my private life!” her mother answered, her voice raising to try and end the conversation.
“Your life is my life too,” Samantha said, “and it's Lauren's even more since she lives here.”
“I don't poke my nose into your private life,” her mother said, “so stay out of mine. It's none of your affair what I do if and when I choose to go out in the evenings.”
“It is my affair!” Samantha protested loudly. “You made it mine when you brought a strange man into the house without even okaying it with Lauren!”
Her mother looked at Lauren and then back at Samantha. “I'm not going to talk like Lauren isn't in the room,” she said. “Lauren,” she said, turning to her youngest daughter, “I told you that I was bringing someone home.”
“You didn't say he was staying over,” Lauren answered quietly.
“I asked you if it would be okay if someone stayed over maybe…”
“And I said I was uncomfortable with it and I had issues with people I don't know very well,” Lauren finished. “You just seemed to disregard that conversation and let him stay over anyway.”
“Why ask Lauren's opinion when you weren't even going to wait for the answer?” Samantha asked, accusingly. “You'd already made up your mind so why bother? So it sounded as if you cared (?)”
“Look, if I knew this was going to upset the pair of you…” her mother started.
“… You wouldn't have done it?” Samantha interrupted. “You would have stayed in and supported your daughter in a period of considerable grief?”
“Just in case you've forgotten,” her mother said heatedly, “Frank was my husband! I loved him with my whole life…”
“… and yet you couldn't wait to get a replacement,” Samantha cut in, full of sarcasm. “Out all hours of the night, partying with strange people you don't know… You think this even registers anywhere on the scale of responsible behaviour?!”
“You don't understand!” her mother yelled at her, slamming her hands down on the table and standing up from her chair. “Your father left me and I am nothing! I so desperately want to be something and I am nothing! Do you have any idea what that even begins to feel like?!”
Her mother suddenly burst into uncontrollable sobs and abruptly sat down in her chair again, burying her face in her hands, shaking and hiccupping. Lauren had tears streaming down her face as she watched her mother suddenly crumble under the weight of her personal grief and sadness. Samantha too felt the tears and saw her mother the way she had wanted to see her: torn apart with the intense sorrow and pain that had been caused by the death of a father and husband. Samantha left her seat and crouched down next to her mother, tentatively reaching out at her arm and gently brushing the woollen cardigan sleeve as she ran her hand up and down the lower part, from the elbow to the wrist.
“Mum, I'm sorry,” she managed to say, the words stumbling as they reached her lips and just falling out at random intervals.
Her mother pulled her face out of her hands and looked at her eldest daughter. Her eyes were puffy and still shiny with tears at the ready. Her mouth was drawn downwards and her bottom lip very slightly quivered as she willed herself to stop crying.
“Oh Sam,” she finally whispered, reaching out and brushing her thumb across Samantha's cheek, “darling, this wasn't supposed to happen.”
“I know, Mum,” Samantha whispered back. “It was a terrible thing and we must all move on, but not now. There's still plenty of time before…”
“It's not that,” Mum interrupted. “I just…” she stopped and shook her head. “No, it's fine.”
Samantha moved back into her seat and looked at Lauren. Her sister was furiously wiping away the tears that had ran over her cheeks and fallen from her jaw on to her top.
They all resumed eating the now mostly cold contents of their plates in another period of silence, save a slight sniffle from one of them, still trying to stop the emotions flowing from their eyeballs.
“I'm done,” Lauren said, breaking the silence and loudly clattering her knife and fork together on her plate. Her plate wasn't empty though, and she looked as if she just wanted to leave the table.
“I'm done, too,” Samantha said, chewing her way through her last piece of lukewarm turkey and pushing her parsnips to one side. She didn't like them much and certainly couldn't face them today.
“Okay, go into the lounge and I'll bring out Christmas pudding,” their mother said, pushing her chair away from the table.
The girls did the same and rushed into the lounge, whereupon the television was immediately switched on and a music channel was selected. The original Band Aid song was in the middle of play and the moving bar at the bottom of the screen promised its viewers it would be playing Christmas hits all day non-stop.
Their mother walked in with a bowl of Christmas pudding in each hand. The pudding had been treated to a dash of brandy and was now soaked with single cream. They all dug in, commenting on how the brandy should have been a little more generous and the pudding a tiny bit more fruity. The argument seemed to have been conveniently forgotten.
Lauren got up from the sofa and disappeared into the kitchen for five minutes before reappearing with coffee and white chocolate mint cream wafers. Presents were handed out between the three and then distributed by Lauren on behalf of the various family members and family friends that had dropped presents over during the last couple of days. Samantha received her usual gift range of more toiletries she could shake a stick at, as well as a cheque from her grandparents, cash from her great aunt Mabel, and some gift vouchers for Virgin Megastores.
“Oh, I got Virgin gift vouchers too,” Lauren commented, seeing Samantha rip open the envelope and the vouchers falling from the torn paper. “From John?”
“Yep,” Samantha said. “What is it with vouchers that people think are so great? They scream, 'I don't know you well enough to get you a proper present so I'm just getting vouchers' or 'I couldn't be bothered to buy a present and wrap it so I'm just stuffing a voucher into an envelope'. It's not as if John is someone we've only known a short while. He's been our neighbour and friend for fifteen years!”
“Maybe it's what he wants for Christmas and he's giving them to you to give you the hint?” Lauren suggested.
“He could just say so,” Samantha sighed. “It took me ages to find those paintings for his new study.”
“Did you really like what I got you?” Lauren asked her.
Samantha reached out for her present from Lauren. It was a DVD set containing a handful of episodes of her favourite childhood television programmes.
“I love this present!” Samantha said, grinning at her sister and hugging the box set. “It has Jamie and The Magic Torch, Will O' The Wisp, Bagpuss, Button Moon, Dangermouse, SuperTed, and… Oh, Dogtanian and the Muskerhounds! What more could a gal want?!”
“I tried to get you a copy of The Amazing Cities of Gold but it wasn't happening,” Lauren said reluctantly.
“I'm not surprised,” Samantha said. “It was a Spanish cartoon dubbed in American English.”
“But so was Dogtanian!”
“I guess…”
“I'll try again next year!” Lauren declared.
The afternoon was light-hearted enough and, although Samantha was sorry she had managed to make everyone cry, including herself, she was glad that some of the hidden tension and secrets were now in the open and may now be easier to deal with. Her mother and Lauren definitely had to talk to each other more often if any headway was to be made.
Samantha glanced at her watch. It was nearly half past three. She needed to leave so she could watch It's A Wonderful Life in peace.
“I should be making a move,” Samantha said, gathering up her presents and looking for a way of transporting all the stuff.
“Don't leave yet,” complained Lauren. “Pete's not here so you might as well stay for tea.”
“Yeah, don't go yet, Samantha,” her mother joined in. “You're quite welcome to stay longer.”
“I should go,” Samantha said, “and Pete might have called me again and I wouldn't want him to be all lonely at Christmas!”
“Okay, well safe journey home!” her mother said.
“I'll walk you to the door,” Lauren volunteered and she ushered Samantha through to the entrance porch.
Samantha turned and hugged her sister. “Bye Lauren, take care of you.”
“Yeah, take care of you,” Lauren said, returning the hug. “And thanks for what you did at dinner.”
“Yeah, a runaway success story that was (!)”
“No, but you meant well and I am really grateful that you did that. Everything is out in the open now. It's better.”
“Yeah, well, you've got to keep the channels open now,” Samantha said. “Don't bottle it all up, okay? Let Mum know how you're feeling about anything and everything, and she'll hopefully do the same.”
“I wonder what she was about to tell us at dinner?” Lauren mused.
“I don't know,” Samantha said, slightly confused herself about the weird ending to it all. “I guess she decided that what ever it was, it was best left unsaid.”
“I guess...”
“Okay, well, see ya.”
“See ya,” waved Lauren.
Samantha reached her dark flat and fumbled for the light switch. Her answering machine was blinking. She rushed over, not even pulling off her scarf or coat, and pressed the 'Play' button.
“Hi it's Pete. No answer from your mobile so you must still be at your Mum's. I called my parents and okayed tonight for you. I'm really sorry but I don't think New Year is going to be a possibility, especially since we've been promised snow and Steve can't afford to have me trapped in it away from the office. Ring me back and let me apologise in person, okay? Love you!”
The message cut off and Samantha glared at the machine. The nerve Pete had! Honestly. All she wanted was to see her boyfriend and after three months, it was still denied. She wouldn't call him back. Not right away anyway. She knew they'd have a horrible argument and didn't want to have bad air between them. It was just so difficult maintaining a long distance relationship. They had been with each other all the time and had never been apart for more than two days at a time. And now… It was too much for her. She needed a real break from everything. A chance to recharge her batteries before all the events of next year took all priorities.
Her eyes travelled over to the computer in the corner. With the very near future looking bleak and increasingly lonely, she decided that she needed a little fun time and, if Kevin was the man to introduce her to it, then that was the way it was going to be. She made up her mind and sat down in her computer chair, pulling her coat and scarf off as the computer booted up. She activated the internet connection and opened her email. Finding Kevin's email regarding the party, she clicked 'Reply' and wrote:
Would love to go to the party. Pick me up about 8pm from Ashley House on Contract Road. Samantha
That done, she switched on the television, took the telephone off the hook, and settled down to watch her film. Her thoughts flitted occasionally to the email she had just sent Kevin. Would he get the wrong idea and think she wanted more than a fun time? No, she decided, he wouldn't. And if he did she'd just firmly rebut his advances. And in any case, it would be easier to return the unwanted laptop gift if she were a little alcohol fuelled and Kevin would be more likely to be unoffended by the return of his gift if he were alcohol fuelled too. The opportunity was too good to miss and, with all the hassle about wedding plans, Pete's absence, and the departure of her friends over the Christmas period, at least the party gave her something to look forward to.
Back to Chapter VIII
Go to Chapter X
© 2004 Clare Benton
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