Wait a minute. There’s another with my name. And two more.
Down on my knees under the tree, I find eleven gifts with my name.
“You’re not supposed to start!” A childish voice says from behind me. It’s Henrietta running in. “No opening until after breakfast.”
She’s followed by a running Rhys and more slowly by Haneen pulling on a long cardigan and yawning.
“No, counting your presents either. Stay away from the tree.”
Then she sees me cross-legged on the floor. “You’re setting them a bad example.”
“I didn’t expect anyone to get presents for me,” I say.
“Yes,” Henrietta insists in that absolute conviction only children have. “Because it’s Christmas.”
It’s only then I realise she’s speaking to me. Finally!
“Good morning Henrietta,” I open my arms and she climbs into my lap and hugs me. “You are the best present in the world.” I hug her back.
Even Rhys joins in the hug.
“My word, aren’t you the popular one this morning?” Haneen says filling the kettle.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to earn this,” I say from behind four little arms snaking around my head and neck
“Don’t question it. Children respond to personality.”
I wrap an arm around Rhys too and feel a wave of love swelling my heart.
Leaving this house is going to be so difficult. It takes effort just to leave the floor under the tree and go to make breakfast.
Before long, the men start drifting in, some in pyjamas and dressing gowns still, yawning and looking for coffee. In addition to Wyn, Ricky, too, is staying overnight in Kendric House. Ricky is a challenging boy, always too many questions to everything you ask him to do. “Porridge?” he grumbles, looking at the bowls on the table. “Why can’t we have a proper fry-up breakfast?”
His complaints cut through my sad mood like a squeeze of lemon. Against my will, I feel my lips stretch in an indulgent smile. “Because I don’t have enough free pans for all that.”
“Do it all on one frying like my mum does.”
I have a soft spot for Ricky. He reminds me of myself in a strange way. Too much going on inside him but nowhere for it to go. One day he’ll be a trailblazer, but for now it come across as rebellion and failure to conform to the rules.
“I think what you’re trying to say is – I mimic his surly voice – “thank you Leonie for spending the last three days in the kitchen.”
Alex and the professor applaud.
“Make sure you eat a good breakfast,” I tell them as I set plates on the table. “The kitchen will soon be out of bounds until three this afternoon.”
For that reason, I’ve prepared a big breakfast. A breakfast to remember because it’ll be my last, here. In addition to the apple and honey porridge, I have bowls of berries, slices bananas and kiwi, yogurt, and a mountain of bacon, sandwiches.
“Leonie,” the professor calls. “Stop cooking and come sit down. You can afford half an hour to eat breakfast.”
No.
Actually it’s yes, but I’m deliberately keeping myself away from the table. Because all this lively family atmosphere is just going to highlight the fact it won’t be my family after today.
“I just need to make toast,” I say quickly.
“I’ll make the toast.” Haneen moves Henrietta off her lap.
“No, you won’t.” Evan lays a hand on her knee to stop her getting up. “We’ve agreed you're not allowed to cook over Christmas.” Then he looks across the table. “Ricky.” He indicates with his head that Ricky should be on toas detail.
