Last Christmas Page 17

  ‘I am the man!’ he declared, before swaying sideways and toppling straight over.

  Noel was reading Ruby a story. It had always been one of his favourite pastimes, reading his children to sleep. He loved the way she cosily curled up next to him as he put on silly voices to The Gruffalo. He missed the others being young. Mel was so moody and difficult these days, it was hard to know where to begin. He felt guiltily relieved that she took out all her grumpiness on Cat, but sometimes he wished she’d cuddle up to him on the sofa like she used to when she was little. When James wasn’t on the Playstation, he was kicking a football about. (Noel had a sneaking feeling he was a great disappointment in the footballing department, very rarely joining the other dads on the sidelines on Saturday—he usually used work as an excuse, but it was mainly because he couldn’t stand the other football dads, or standing round with cold feet—and he and Cat frequently rowed about it.)

  More and more, Noel felt like he was superfluous in his older children’s lives. Although Paige still demonstrated a pleasing tendency to jump all over him as soon as he walked through the door, the older two frequently acted as if they didn’t care if he were there or not. Cat had a different take on things, he knew, extolling the joys of older children, but Noel had a sneaking affection for the muddle and chaos of the early days of parenthood when, despite the lack of sleep, the house had felt cosy and comfortable and he had felt a sense of pride at the home he and Cat were creating. Now it often felt like he was a stranger in his own house, and the jobs he had to do (memo to self, mend that sodding shelf) were a constant reminder that he wasn’t matching up to either his or Cat’s expectations as a husband and father.

  His thoughts strayed to the eco town and the one bright spot in his work landscape. Though the trips up north were growing more frequent, the upside was that Noel got to spend more time in Hope Christmas. He’d taken to staying in the Hopesay Arms, the village pub, which was so much nicer than the Travelodge on the nearest motorway. Noel had even stayed once when technically he could have got home. He’d felt guilty about it, almost as if he were having an affair, but, somehow, Noel just wanted to keep Hope Christmas as his secret.

  He just couldn’t resist the opportunity to wander the little streets, pottering round the quaint shops with their lopsided walls, low ceilings, and displays of geegaws and trinkets that he found incredibly enticing. The shop that drew him back most often was more of an emporium, being a three-storeyed house, crammed full of antiques—most of them rubbish, though Noel had spotted the occasional gem. He harboured wild fantasies of buying one of the tumbledown old farmhouses he’d spotted on the way out of Hope Christmas, and cramming it full of old knickknacks purchased from the antiques shop, as well as books he’d acquired from the fabulous bookshop, where the booksellers were now ordering books especially for him. But, somehow, in his head he could never see Cat and the children there. Cat was far too much of a townie to ever countenance a life in the country. It was a pipe dream, and Noel knew it. Besides, by the time Matt and Luke had finished with the eco town there wasn’t likely to be anything left of the Hope Christmas he loved. Noel felt hopelessly guilty about the part he was playing in destroying this particular paradise for the sake of a parking lot, but he couldn’t see a way out of it without losing his job. And, in the current economic climate, he could scarcely afford to do that.

  Realising Ruby was asleep, he gently kissed the top of her head, put the book away and popped his head into Paige’s room, where she had her nose stuck in a Jacqueline Wilson.

  ‘Five minutes till lights out,’ he said, before going downstairs and chasing James off the computer and into bed.

  Cat and Mel were watching Pride and Prejudice, eating popcorn. He didn’t mind period drama, but wasn’t quite in the mood, so, ignoring the disappointed look on Cat’s face, he headed into the study and went online to see if there were any job opportunities out there. After a fruitless half an hour, he realised he was wasting his time. He’d try some agencies in the morning. He switched off the computer and went back into the lounge in time to witness Darcy whisking Elizabeth off into the sunset. Mel said goodnight and Cat cuddled up to him on the sofa while they watched a repeat of Little Britain. Noel was uneasy. He still hadn’t got round to telling Cat about the precarious nature of his work situation. Somehow there hadn’t been a right moment over the weekend. Perhaps he should tell her now.

  ‘Penny for ’em,’ Cat said, tucking into a piece of popcorn. ‘You seem very preoccupied.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he lied, ‘just a bit tired.’

  He’d tell her tomorrow. Maybe.

  Gabriel lay on a stretcher in a hospital corridor, feeling woozy. This was ridiculous, he shouldn’t be in hospital, he was perfectly fine. Trust Diana Carew to insist on calling an ambulance. The paramedic who had checked him over had decided he needed to go to hospital for observation. The adrenaline rush from earlier had completely deserted Gabriel, and he was now feeling like a total prat.

  You are the King of the Muddle though, a sneaky voice in his head said very clearly.‘Yeah,and look where that’s landed me!’ Gabriel said out loud.

  ‘Do you often talk to yourself ?’ Marianne was standing over him, looking amused.

  ‘Only when my head hurts,’ said Gabriel.

  ‘You’ve only yourself to blame,’ said Marianne. ‘What on earth were you thinking?’

  ‘I wasn’t, much,’ admitted Gabriel. ‘I just got a bit carried away.’

  ‘I’ll say,’ said Marianne. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Everything hurts,’ said Gabriel. ‘Where’s Stephen?’

  ‘Down the corridor with Pippa and the other kids,’ said Marianne. ‘I said I’d come and find out what was happening.’

  ‘I’m really glad you have,’ said Gabriel. Despite the pain in his limbs, and the aching of his head, he felt a sudden dizzying sense of joy that she was here with him, right now. All the way down that path, it was a vision of Marianne that had been spurring him on. Suddenly life seemed worth living in a way it hadn’t done for months. Suddenly he had a reason to get up in the morning with a spring in his step and joy in his heart. He had forgotten the rushing, intoxicating ecstasy of early love—if indeed it was love that he was feeling. Whatever it was, it was making him feel like jumping in the air and punching the sky. For the first time he imagined a future without Eve. And a future with someone else.

  ‘Even though I think you’re an utter pillock,’ said Marianne, bursting his bubble, ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’

  ‘Marianne, you say the nicest things,’ said Gabriel with a grin.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Marianne.

  ‘Don’t what?’ said Gabriel.

  ‘Look at me like that,’ said Marianne.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like that,’said Marianne.‘You’re stopping me from being as cross as I want to be with you.’

  ‘Well, don’t be then,’ said Gabriel. ‘At least I won.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Marianne, with a sudden grin that sent his heart leaping skywards, ‘yes, you certainly did.’

  ‘Cat-er-ine! Cat-er-ine!’ Cat was roused from a deep sleep by the sound of Magda sobbing and shouting hysterically.

  ‘What on earth is going on?’ Cat leapt out of bed, crossly noting that as usual a bomb could go off and Noel wouldn’t even notice, flung a dressing gown around her and opened the door. Magda was standing before her, doubled up in pain, blood pouring from her stomach. Cat looked down and saw a bloody trail of footprints leading from the bathroom.

  ‘I was at club, with Sergei. We dance,’ said Magda, who was swaying alarmingly and looked incredibly pale. ‘I had my belly button pierced today. It catch on Sergei’s jacket and—oh my God, the pain!—it start to bleed. So I come home. But it won’t stop bleeding. I am going to die.’

  ‘You’re not going to die,’ said Cat firmly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. And hold your finger over it to stop the bleeding. Where’s Sergei now?’

  ‘He is i
n kitchen. He not like blood.’

  ‘Oh, does he not?’ said Cat. ‘Haven’t you heard of A&E?’

  ‘What?’ Magda was leaning against the wall, panting heavily. Christ, she wasn’t about to go into anaphylactic shock, was she?

  ‘Let’s have a look, shall we?’ Cat gingerly removed Magda’s hand from her bare midriff to see a stud hanging off a bit of skin, with blood pumping out. Resisting the urge to gag, Cat shoved Magda’s fingers over the hole to attempt to stem the bleeding and took her back into the bathroom. She made her au pair lie on the floor with her legs in the air to stop her fainting and prevent the blood flowing downwards and, remembering a trick her Auntie Eileen (a former nurse) had taught her, she held the two pieces of skin together as tight as possible in the vain hope that they would knit back together again. After ten minutes she cautiously took her fingers away and realised that a clot was beginning to form. Going to the first-aid cupboard, she got some steri strips out and stuck them over the wound, having first cleaned it as best she could with antiseptic wipes, ruthlessly ignoring the feeble moans emanating from Magda.

  Sergei, meanwhile, had bravely managed to come up the stairs and see how his girlfriend was getting on. He took one look at Magda’s bloodied stomach and promptly threw up.

  ‘You’re a fat load of use,’ snapped Cat. ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘We both have,’ said Magda.

  ‘Great, just great,’ said Cat. ‘Right, get in the car, both of you. I’ll take you to Casualty.’

  Cat drove like a maniac through the darkened London streets, furiously thinking about how she was going to deal with this situation. She was so angry she didn’t even care if Magda bled to death in the back of the car, she just wanted her gone. By the time they’d got to the hospital, she’d made up her mind about what she was going to do, even though she blanched at the thought of how she was going to manage it. She drew up outside the casualty department and then turned to them both and said, ‘I want you to listen carefully. I am going to say this only once. I’m going to leave you here, but you can make your own way home. And, in the morning, Magda, I am going to ring the agency and tell them your services are no longer required. You can come and pack your things up and then you can go. Do you understand?’

  ‘But Cat-er-ine—’ began Magda.

  ‘But Catherine nothing,’ said Cat. ‘You’ve had enough warnings. I’ve had it up to here with you and lover boy over there. I’d rather not have an au pair at all than have to put up with one as useless as you.’

  It took Cat an hour by the time she’d got back from the hospital and, when she returned, she had to clean up the mess. The last thing she wanted was for the kids to see all that in the morning.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Noel appeared in the doorway, looking sleepy.

  ‘Magda nearly bled to death all over the floor, Sergei threw up everywhere and I’ve now sacked Magda,’ said Cat, as she mopped the floor with a will.

  ‘Oh, right,’ Noel looked a bit bemused. ‘Crikey, how did I manage to miss all that?’

  ‘How indeed?’ said Cat.

  ‘Here, let me help,’ said Noel, going to get another mop. It took them half an hour, but eventually all the mess was cleared up.

  ‘It could only happen to us,’ said Cat, who was so wired up she couldn’t face going back to bed again.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Noel. ‘I’m sure there must be a house somewhere which is more chaotic than ours.’

  ‘You think?’ Cat said, bursting into fits of laughter. ‘Oh, crikey. How am I going to cope? I’ve just sacked the childcare.’

  ‘Something will turn up, Mrs Micawber,’ said Noel, going over to her and kissing her on the top of her head. He paused. ‘Cat, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you—’

  ‘Yes?’ Cat looked up at him, and was surprised to see a sombre look on his face.

  ‘Mummy!’ A sobbing little voice came from the kitchen door. ‘I had a bad dream.’

  ‘Did you, pet?’ Cat picked Ruby up, and gave her a cuddle. ‘What were you going to say, Noel?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Noel. ‘Time for bed.’

  Cat carried Ruby back to her room but couldn’t settle her, and inevitably she and Noel had an uncomfortable night with Ruby lying aslant across their bed. By morning they were both shattered. The alarm had just gone off when Cat heard a commotion downstairs. She came down to a bewildering sight. Sergei and Magda were struggling to bring a mattress through the front door.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Cat said.

  ‘We make protest,’ said Magda. ‘This my home, you cannot throw me out. Sergei is coming to live here. He will help with children.’

  ‘He will not,’ said Cat. ‘If you don’t take that mattress out of my house right now, I shall call the police.’

  Magda and Sergei ignored her and so Cat, without thinking about it, launched herself at the side of the mattress coming towards her and leant on it for all she was worth.

  ‘Noel!’ she called.

  ‘What the—’ Noel came flying down the stairs and, seeing what Cat was doing, leant against Cat. The suddenness of his arrival pushed the mattress back a little, but Sergei on the other side was putting renewed vigour into things, and suddenly Cat and Noel both found themselves on the floor.

  ‘What’s going on?’ James appeared at the top of the stairs.

  ‘We’re trying to stop Sergei moving in,’ said Noel. ‘Come and help.’

  ‘This is fun,’ said James, who was swiftly joined by his siblings. For a few moments the mattress teetered back and forth before finally, with one push, they were able to expel it from the door. Now it was Sergei’s and Magda’s turn to end up flat on their back with the mattress on top of them.

  ‘Now, just so we’ve got this clear,’ said Catherine. ‘Magda, I’m sacking you. You may come and pick your belongings up later. On your own. If Sergei comes near the place I shall call the police. Got it?’

  ‘Got it,’ said Magda sulkily.

  Cat went back inside and high-fived her family. She might be left without childcare, but at least she knew the Tinsalls could be relied on to pull together whatever happened. And she would manage. Because she must. She didn’t actually have a choice.

  Part Three

  To Save Me From Tears

  Last Year

  December 24

  ‘Christmas Eve, it’s Christmas Eve,’ Noel could hear Kipper intoning in the children’s playroom from his study where he was surfing the net. Ruby was sitting with a blanket, sucking her thumb and watching her favourite programme. Any minute now there would be ructions because Paige wanted to watch The Snowman, which was on for the zillionth time. Back in the dawn of time they had had a copy on video, but when James was a toddler he had ‘posted’ it in the video machine and it had never been the same again.

  From the kitchen he could hear carols wafting up the stairs. Cat was peeling the vegetables for tomorrow over a cosy cup of coffee with his mum and, though Noel had offered to help, she claimed to be on top of things. Cat had a way of looking at him when she said that which made him feel like an insignificant worm. She always denied it but sometimes Noel felt there was a great female conspiracy going on against him. In the office he was feeling more and more sidelined, and at home he felt thoroughly useless. The one thing Cat was always nagging him about, namely to mend the shelf in the lounge, was the one thing he never seemed to get round to doing. He couldn’t quite explain to himself why that was but being nagged reminded him of his mum, and the more Cat nagged, the less likely he was to do it.

  Christmas always seemed to make things worse somehow. Sometimes Noel suspected this Happy Homemaker thing had gone to Cat’s head somewhat. It was almost as if she felt she had to live the way her alter ego did. Instead of his real, gorgeous, homely wife, Noel felt he was getting the cardboard-cutout, dressed-in-a-Santa-outfit, slightly deranged version currently gracing the cover of Happy Homes. The Christmas lists
had started appearing in September and she’d been shopping regularly since then. All the Christmas cards had been posted promptly on 1 December, the presents bought, wrapped and hidden in the loft by the end of November, the turkey ordered from the organic butcher on Clapton High Street three months in advance. She’d made the cake at half term, mince pies in November, and spent the previous week baking sausage rolls. Who on earth made their own sausage rolls anymore? I do, had been Cat’s firm response. The money she was bringing in was, of course, incredibly helpful, but sometimes Noel wistfully wanted his old wife back.

  She’d been such a frightening whirl of efficiency, Noel had felt almost gleeful when he discovered she hadn’t managed to make a Christmas pudding. Apparently Cat’s mum was supposed to do it but had forgotten. Cat had actually returned from Sainsbury’s stressed and empty-handed a couple of days earlier, and hadn’t taken kindly to Noel’s roar of laughter when he’d heard that she’d abandoned the trolley mid-shop. Maybe there was something he could do. He looked at his watch and saw it was only just midday. Sainsbury’s was bound to be a nightmare, but at least if he bought a Christmas pudding he might feel slightly less useless.

  Noel went down to the kitchen to find his mother relating some hilarious anecdote from his childhood about him pooing his pants, which Cat clearly found very funny. It riled him how well Cat got on with his mother, who did nothing but find fault with him and the children.

  ‘What’s my lovely granddaughter up to?’ Another bone of contention. Why did his mother insist on favouring Ruby so obviously? She’d done the same trick with his little sister when he was growing up and it still rankled.

  ‘Watching Kipper,’ said Noel, bracing himself for the inevitable comment about how much television the children watched. For once, it didn’t come.

  ‘If you don’t need me, dear,’ Angela said to Cat, ‘I’ll just go and see if Ruby wants company.’