Monday 18th December
At Snowy Pines Christmas Tree Farm: Splashes and wet hankies
‘So we’re here for two trees, in any colour but blue,’ Rory says, as he turns off the main road.
I know getting hauled off to buy Christmas trees isn’t exactly in line with my festive boycott. But when Rory waltzed in shortly after lunch, bringing Poppy to cover at the shop for a couple of hours, they were both insistent. With two of them ganging up on me again, it was easier to come than resist. In a way they were right. After two and a half days solid at the laptop, sorting the twins’ pictures to send off to Jules, I was more than ready for a break. In the end it was hard to let them go, because some of the pictures were so pretty it was hard to believe I’d taken them. But then tomorrow it’s Seth and Katie’s ski wedding, and the whole damned business starts all over again. Three down. I can’t believe there arestilltwo to go.
For some reason known only to Rory, who’s being bizarrely secretive this afternoon, he’s chosen to approach Snowy Pines Christmas Tree Farm by the private back entrance. If it’s a boy-excuse to have fun driving down half a mile of rutted lane, that part’s working a treat. Every time the beer-mobile hits a puddle, the mud sluices high up the windows. And every time it happens Gracie and Teddie, encouraged by Rory, scream like banshees.
In fairness, the kids were pretty hyped up before the tidal splashes started, due to the special sing-along soundtrack Rory’s made them. All their new favourite songs, plus a few of his own. It’s thanks to this gem of a collection we’ve spent the entire journey shouting along to Slade’sMerry Christmas,Karma Chameleon,Let It Go, plus Teddie’s YouTube sweet spot favourites.
As we round yet another bend, and the S Club 7 crew burst intoReach for the Stars, he takes a moment off from steering wheel tapping and grins across at me. ‘Good isn’t it? I’ve put this one on yours too, Berry.’
It would be rude not to ask. ‘What the heck are you on about?’
His grin gets even broader. ‘My girlie playlist, dedicated especially to you, currently under construction.’
A boy’s-eye view of music girls like? I let out a snort. ‘You havewaytoo much time on your hands, Rory. I can’t wait to see what you come up with for that.’ Seeing that we’ve all had to stick our fingers in our ears while Rory insisted on screaming out the high bits inA Thing Called Lovealong with Justin, from the Darkness, I’m really not hopeful about his choices.
Although, you have to give him some credit. If happy kids were what he was aiming for, he’s nailed it here with Gracie and Teddie. It’s hard to think, sitting in the cosy, baby-wipe-scented fug of the car that a week from now, this will all be over. No more beer-mobile. The kids will be home with Erin. Rory will be in Bristol and then off to his barns. And I’ll be thinking about heading back to my skanky flat and London. For some ridiculous reason, that brings on a strange twang in my chest. I ignore it and instead make myself do a mental cheer, complete with fist waving. Why the hell am I feeling like shit and missing the best bit? No more wedding stress, ever. How great will that be?
As we carry on bumping down the lane, the more excited the squeals from Gracie and Teddie, the faster Rory goes. By the time we jump down from the car in a wide yard that’s completely rammed with every kind and size of Christmas tree you can imagine, the blue waves on the car are completely obliterated by dripping sludge.
As I take Gracie’s hand, I nod at Rory’s mud splattered logo. ‘If you’re hoping for publicity, you might need a hose pipe?’
Rory’s already striding across the concrete. ‘Nope, today’s all about pleasure, not business.’ He’s got Teddie clamped in the crook of his elbow. ‘We’ll get the trees first.’
‘You want two?’ Is that what he said before?
He nods. ‘One for Poppy’s kitchen, one for Home Brew Cottage, because the way Erin’s going, the kids will be here a lot of the week. She’s still not well enough to come home yet.’ He wiggles his eyebrows at Gracie. ‘Gracie and I were hoping you’d help us decorate it later?’
Gracie chimes in. ‘With balls … . and snowmans … and twinkle lights …’
Rory looks at her as seriously as she’s staring up at him. ‘We’ll get twinkle lights from the shop later, okay?’
Gracie’s voice brightens. ‘And soft poop too.’
‘Soft poop?’ If it’s possible to frown and retch at the same time, that’s what I’m doing.
Rory pulls a face. ‘Softscoopis her euphemism for Häagen Dazs. Keep up, Auntie Hols. Super-appetising, isn’t it? This girl has expensive tastes.’
‘Moving on before I vom,’ I say. ‘That tree pile has to be the most massive in the world, ever.’
Rory shakes his head. ‘It was way bigger before, this is a huge operation. Only a week before Christmas, these are just the leftovers.’ He stares down at Gracie again. ‘We need hats too, don’t we?’
Gracie nods. ‘One for me and one for Hols.’
I’m frowning again. ‘Why?’
Rory takes a deep breath. ‘To keep your earsies warm. Isn’t that what hats do? Unless you’re Marilyn and wearing a fascinator, of course.’ He pauses to shudder. ‘Ten minutes outside at Rose Hill’s one thing. All day at a beach wedding, you’ll be freezing your butt off. A hat’s non-negotiable.’
And then it suddenly hits me. ‘Jeez, you guys are talking! How long has this been going on?’
Rory scrunches up his face. ‘Whatareyou on about? We always talked. But maybe I’m hearing more now.’
A young guy in boots and a Santa hat is coming towards us. ‘Will you be wanting to chop your own tree down, sir?’
Rory pulls a face as he nods down at Teddie. ‘Not this time, thanks. We’re here to pick up the Roaring Waves order, and visit the, er, livestock?’
