And so Bess had insisted she cook for them both this evening seeing as it was Christmas Eve and neither of them had other plans. She pulled out ingredients and before too long, Marianne joined her in the kitchen. Beyond the window, they had what looked like very fine snowfall that had no hope of settling but looked inviting nevertheless.
‘I’ve left my mobile at Gio’s,’ Marianne grumbled. ‘He’ll drop it over in a few hours, he said. If that’s all right?’
‘Of course it is. You don’t need to ask.’ She was sure her voicehad gone up an octave, giving away her not-so-platonic feelings towards him, but if it had, Marianne hadn’t noticed.
Marianne leaned up against the counter as Bess washed a big handful of green beans. ‘May I ask a personal question?’ She paused. ‘It might be none of my business…’
‘But…’
‘I wondered whether maybe you’re Jewish or a Jehovah’s Witness.’
Bess dropped the beans into the colander in the sink. ‘Neither.’
‘But you don’t have a Christmas tree.’
And now she felt like a crap landlady. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I don’t usually bother because my mum has a tree and I’m usually with her, or I’m at work where they have loads of festive cheer.’
‘You sound like Gio; he always says he’s either working or can enjoy a tree at the pub or elsewhere.’
Bess felt terrible. ‘I apologise, Marianne.’
‘No, it’s fine. I don’t usually have one either. I was just curious.’
Bess turned on the tap and showered the green beans, rinsing them off.
And then she stopped the flow of water, dried her hands, threw down the tea towel. ‘Come on.’ She picked up her car keys.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Let’s go see if we can find a tree.’
‘But it’s Christmas Eve,’ said Marianne with a hint of childlike mischief that suggested she was all in with this.
And both of them lit up with glee when they nabbed the very last Fraser fir, reduced in price but no less stunning, from outside the nearest supermarket.
‘Dinner first, we’ll decorate later,’ Bess instructed as soon as they got back to the house. They’d hauled the tree out of the car and left it in the lounge in the stand it had been sold in. Later, they would crown it in its full Christmas glory.
‘Good idea, I’m hungry.’
Marianne set the table while Bess continued the prep for the meal and got going with the cooking.
‘Can’t believe we got the last tree.’ Bess grinned, suddenly glad she had one. ‘What a stroke of luck.’
‘It’s a stunner for sure. Now it feels more like Christmas; I can smell it from here, even with the dinner cooking.’
As Marianne folded over a couple of napkins, she told Bess that Gio was making the Christmas dinner tomorrow. ‘He’ll do a better job than I ever did, I’m sure.’
Gio cooked? He hadn’t done much of that in their shared house. But Gio Mayhan was going up in Bess’s estimations all the time and the thought tickled her. ‘Lucky you.’
The lamb cutlets were soon sizzling in the pan, the potatoes simmering, the greens waiting to be plunged into water.
‘I had hoped Marco and my grandkids might come for Christmas but Marco has to work,’ Marianne went on. ‘He’s a firefighter too.’
Bess stirred the mint sauce she’d prepared and set it on the table. ‘It’s a job much like mine that continues 365 days of the year. I had today off but I’ll be back in tomorrow, Boxing Day and the day after.’
‘Don’t you hate it? Lord knows I didn’t give enough of myself over the years on a day that is supposed to be for family, but I want to now. Don’t you wish you could be with yours?’
‘Actually, I don’t mind working over Christmas, as strange asit may sound. It feels good to be there for others.’ And Christmas had never been the same since her dad died anyway. This year, knowing Bess was working, her mum had Malcolm coming over but had promised Bess that the pair of them would do a belated Christmas Day with all the trimmings once Bess had time off.
