‘I know he’d want you to have it,’ said Arthur, patting her arm.
‘Have you got to the bottom of that stocking yet?’ Greg asked Sam as he hovered nearby with a refilled glass.
Sam was surrounded by gifts: a chocolate orange, chocolate coins, socks and a variety of toiletries. Sam held up a clementine and a walnut. ‘Can someone explain these?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Greg, passing Sam his drink and putting his Penguin slippered feet up on the foot stool. ‘Back when Noah was a lad we were poor and we only ever had fresh fruit and shelled nuts at Christmas. They were unusual things and getting them in your stocking was special. Food was cheap and came in a tin. I was eleven before I realised pineapples weren’t ring-shaped.’
Blythe mimed playing a violin and Sam smirked.
‘You can laugh,’ said Greg good-naturedly, ‘but if you didn’t have much you had to make the best of it. I’m right, aren’t I, Arthur?’
‘You are,’ said Arthur, trying on his other present: a pair of thermal gloves.
‘Right,’ said Sam, putting down the walnut and clementine but not looking much better informed.
‘They’re a family tradition I guess,’ explained Blythe, scanning what Sam had unwrapped. ‘There should be one more present in there,’ she added, nodding at his stocking.
Sam put his hand inside and pulled out a small package. Blythe tried hard to hide her grin. She’d been dying to see him open this ever since she’d bought it a couple of weeks ago. That was back when she’d hoped they would still be together at Christmas. Sam kept glancing at her as he opened it. The look of realisation on his face was a picture. ‘A Tamagotchi?’ He shook his head. He spontaneously got to his feet and hugged her. ‘Thank you. I love it.’
‘Santa said he’s sorry it’s a couple of decades late.’
Sam snorted a laugh. ‘Tell him it’s okay. I forgive him.’
‘I might not see him until next year. Will you still be living in Holly Cross then?’ She held her breath.
‘I’ve decided not to move my business if that’s what you’re asking.’ Sam’s lips twitched at the edges. ‘I think you, Turpin and Holly Cross are stuck with me.’
‘Right,’ said Blythe’s mum appearing in the doorway looking slightly flustered. ‘I need to know who wants what. There’s carrots, parsnips, cauli cheese, sprouts, red cabbage, pigs in blankets, roasties. Well, everything really.’
‘Let’s bung it all in dishes and everyone can help themselves. I’ll give you a hand,’ said Greg, jumping to his feet and beginning to clap. ‘I’m giving her a hand. Get it?’ he asked.
‘Gregory, you’re such a clown.’ And she hooked a tea towel around his neck and towed him off to the kitchen.
‘I’ll see if I can be of any help too,’ said Arthur, following them out.
‘Sorry about them,’ said Blythe, feeling a wave of embarrassment similar to the many her mum and Greg had triggered during her teenage years.
‘Don’t apologise,’ said Sam. ‘I think they’re amazing. I’d have killed to have parents like them growing up.’
Blythe felt the mood dip a little. ‘I hope this isn’t all too much.’
Sam looked around the room at the decorations, the tree and his pile of presents. ‘It’s actually okay.’
‘Really?’ Blythe feared he was putting on a brave face.
‘Yeah,’ said Sam. ‘This is nothing like Christmas.’ Blythe twisted her lips in confusion. ‘Well, it’s nothing like any Christmas I’ve ever had. All the stuff on the run-up to today reminds me of my childhood and that triggers me. It makes me remember the hurt. The unfulfilled expectation. But this…’ He splayed out his hands. ‘This makes me feel kind of happy.’ He seemed surprised by his own words.
‘That’ll be whatever Greg gave you to drink.’ They both laughed.
‘Actually,’ said Sam, taking Blythe in his arms, ‘I’m pretty certain it’s you who makes me happy.’ Before Blythe could question it he kissed her.
‘Grab your indigestion tablets because dinner’s ready!’ called Greg, interrupting their kiss.
*
Blythe’s mum always kept the dining room door shut until it was time to eat. Her Christmas table was different every year and something she took a lot of time over. When Blythe was little they used to tell her that the elves had been and decorated the table for Christmas dinner but even now she had that familiar sense of excitement at seeing it. Greg rapped out a drum roll on the dining room door before opening it. This year they had gone for a navy and silver theme with a navy tablecloth, sparkly silver table runner and a multitude of matching sparkly items. ‘Mum, it’s fantastic,’ said Blythe.
When all the food had been brought out Greg tapped a glass to get everyone’s attention. ‘I just want to say this looks amazing.’ Everyone murmured their agreement. ‘I’m so happy that you’re all here.’
