She gave her father a sympathetic smile and he rolled his eyes.
“Your mother’s bedside manner leaves something to be desired,” he said. “Germs didn’t dare inhabit the ward when she was in charge. Anyway, back to Martin. Try not to worry, Jen. He’ll cheer up now it’s Christmas, I’m sure. And the children will be home soon. That will be a treat. You must be looking forward to it. It will be the first time they’ve all been home together for ages.”
That was true and she was looking forward to it, not least because she didn’t know how many more of these lovely family Christmases they would have. Not that any of them had so much as hinted at a change, but she was a realist. Her children were adults now. Someday soon they’d decide they’d rather spend Christmas in their own homes. Or maybe Rosie would have to go and spend Christmas with Declan’s father and stepmother. She imagined them arguing about which set of parents they’d be spending Christmas with.
She gave herself a silent telling-off.
This year they were all coming home, and that was all that mattered right now. She should be grateful. If there was one thing nursing had taught her it was to make the most of the moment. There was no point in worrying about next year, or the year after that, because no one knew what life would look like.
And the irony was that a few hours after they’d all descended on Mill House, her home would be filled with chatter, laughter, suitcases, coats and what felt like hundreds of pairs of shoes discarded by the door, and in no time she’d be feeling drained and in desperate need of a moment of peace and quiet, even though just a day earlier she’d sat in the quiet and craved the noise of a busy household.
She loved the idea of a family Christmas, but the gap between her idealized version (visions of cosy evenings spent chatting in front of the fire, or long winter walks) and the reality (a close resemblance to running a boutique hotel single-handed,with no time off and extremely demanding guests) seemed to grow bigger every year.
It was partly her fault. It was her desire to give everyone a perfect Christmas that led her to spend hours in the kitchen. And the pressure was greater than ever this year because Jamie was bringing his new girlfriend, who apparently had never had a proper family Christmas and was desperately excited.
She felt a flicker of anxiety that the Christmas she delivered might fall short of expectations.
Her mother picked up her knitting again. “I thought I’d wear my gold dress to the party. The one Rosie made me for Jamie’s wedding. It has a little tear in it but I’m hoping she will mend it for me.”
“I’m sure she will. And you look lovely in that dress.” And she realised that she hadn’t given a single thought to what she might wear to the party.
The party.
It was the party, of course, that had provided the final challenge to her stress levels.
“A party?” Her voice had risen when she’d taken the phone call from Jamie. “A few days before Christmas?”
“I have something special to announce.”
And that could only mean one thing. Jamie and Hayley were going to announce their engagement.
All he’d said waswe’ll talk when I’m homeand she wondered if that meant he was busy, or that he didn’t want to answer any of the questions he knew she was dying to ask. She’d always tried to respect her children’s boundaries and let them make their own mistakes (she’d made enough of her own when she was their age) but occasionally she wanted to nudge them and sayare you sure?
“I’m delighted for Jamie. After what happened with Poppy, I thought maybe he’d given up on love.” Her mother put her knitting down. “And whoever she is, she’s a lucky girl.”
Whoever she is...
And whowasshe? That question had been nagging at Jenny in the night. Jamie was about to get engaged to someone he’d met a couple of months ago and had yet to introduce to his family. Why the rush? Did he feel he needed to put a ring on her finger to stop her leaving him the way Poppy had? Did he think marriage would make a difference?
She rubbed her ribs with her fingers, trying to get rid of the ache in her heart.
Jamie was her firstborn, and it didn’t matter whether he was three or thirty-three, she still worried about him. They’d had almost five years together before the twins had arrived and changed life beyond recognition. Still, Jamie had loved his sisters, and his steady nature had calmed their often chaotic family.
He’d never given her a single day of worry until he’d fallen in love with Poppy in his second year of medical school. They’d dated for eight years and done everything together, to the extent that everyone in the family got used to saying Jamie-and-Poppy, instead of just Jamie, as if they’d somehow become a single entity. They’d both taken jobs in London, and they’d shared a small apartment where the train rattled past and woke them up early in the morning.
That they would spend the rest of their lives together had been a foregone conclusion, until one day Jamie had called and said that Poppy had left.
And that was that. Her easygoing son had shut himself off. He’d worked, he’d seen friends, but he hadn’t dated, and after a few years, when she’d plucked up enough courage to ask about whether he thought he should perhaps put himself out there again, he’d saidif I want pain, I’ll just stab myself through the heart.
Martin had been a rock. It was a type of grief, he’d assured her, and he’d get over it in time. When she’d asked how much time, he’d said that it would take as long as it took.
And it wasn’t that she had a particular wish to see herchildren married, but she did want them to be settled and happy, and she’d never been entirely convinced that Jamie had ever recovered fully from Poppy.
That had been six years ago, and then a few months ago, out of the blue, he’d started mentioning a girl. Hayley. It had been Hayley this and Hayley that, and Jennifer had felt herself relax because finally Jamie had managed to move on. He was having fun again.
What she hadn’t anticipated was that he would move on so completely that he’d want to marry her within a matter of months.
“I looked up her social media feed,” her mother said, and Jenny, who was rarely surprised by anything, was surprised.
