Last Christmas Read online

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

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

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

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ‘Catherine Tinsall, I believe,’ he said.

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

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

  ‘That’s right,’ said Cat cautiously.

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

  ‘Well, thank you very much,’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  They both looked at each other and laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Cat chose that moment to return from work. He’d called her earlier when her mother had got agitated, but then she’d calmed down, so Noel had phoned back to say it was okay. Cat evidently had decided to come back anyway.

  ‘Oh God, not again,’ she groaned, when she saw what had happened. ‘It’s all right, Noel, I’ll deal with this.’

  Noel retreated thankfully into the study, and tried to concentrate again on his CV.

  A sudden shout pulled him out of himself.

  He raced to the bathroom, where he found Cat hysterically screaming at her mother.‘Why can’t you just get dressed? It’s so simple. Why can’t you do it?’

  Noel stood looking at Cat in shock. His normally calm wife was totally out of control, while his mother-in-law stood in her underwear, crying and saying, ‘Please don’t be angry with me, please don’t be angry.’

  Cat’s face suddenly crumpled and she ran out of the bathroom. Noel grabbed a dressing gown hanging on the side of the bathroom, wrapped it gently round his mother-in-law, and eased her into
her bedroom.

  Then he went to find Cat who was sitting bleakly on the end of their bed.

  ‘I know, I know,’ she said heavily. ‘Any more of this and I’m going to end up as a parent abuser.’

  Noel sat down next to her and put his arm tentatively round her shoulder.

  ‘You do know we can’t go on like this, don’t you?’ he said.

  ‘I feel like I’ve failed her,’ Cat whispered.

  ‘You haven’t failed her,’said Noel. ‘Alzheimer’s is a ghastly disease. You just have to accept you can’t beat it. You’re going to hate me for saying this, but I don’t think this is working. Your mum needs to go into a home.’

  Catherine leant against him and wept.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Marianne entered the Parish Centre where an impromptu meeting of the Save the Post Office Campaign was being held. The news that the post office was going to shut had been followed swiftly by the flood and the campaign had faltered, only to come back with a vengeance now. Marianne had missed the last couple of meetings, but she’d gathered from Pippa that the idea to have a One Stop Village Shop, which would be manned in part by volunteers from the village and would sell Pippa’s, Dan’s and Gabriel’s local produce, as well as offering post office services, was gaining ground, as was a distinct groundswell of opinion against the eco town. Luke’s attempts to win the villagers over had backfired badly and, as far as Marianne was aware, he had yet to sell a single house to an inhabitant of Hope Christmas. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be able to sell them to incomers, but word on the street was that, with recession beginning to really bite, those urban dwellers looking for a good life in the country were somewhat more reluctant to bite the bullet than they had hitherto been. It was beginning to look as if Luke had a huge white elephant on his hands.

  ‘So we’re agreed that the next task is to start fundraising for the village hall and shop?’ Vera Campion was saying. ‘Albert has already drawn up a battle plan.’ She blushed when she said this. It was not a very well kept secret that since the flood she and Mr Edwards had finally become an item.