34.
Sledges at dawn …
Christmas Eve has to be one of my all time favourite times of the year. It’s the twinkliest sparkliest day when months of anticipation build to the biggest excitement storm ever, and I, for one, will be rocking it.
Except for when I close my eyes, because whenever I do there’s this clip on repeat in my brain. First I see Abby running into Bill’s arms. Then their beautiful little family huddled on the pavement. Then they all disappear into their lovely house and the front door shuts.
Deep in my heart I’ve always known that Bill was only ever on offer in my head, and I completely understand the only right place for him is together with Abby and Gemma. I also know I’ll completely come to terms with it, given time. But right now it doesn’t stop the aching hole in my chest. And every time the front door of their home slams in my head, it hurts all over again. Which is why it’s lovely to have Merwyn. There’s something very comforting about that worried sideways look he gives me. I can tell he cares and he’s completely happy for me to bury my face in his fur and fair isle jumper for as long as it takes for me to feel better.
But luckily for Merwyn and his tear-dampened knitwear there’s not too much time for snivelling because there’s still so much to get ready for tomorrow. After we’ve spread the word about the Bake Off we leave Willow pondering over recipe books on the kitchen sofa.
Then I get to open the florist’s boxes which arrive, gasp at how beautiful the orange and pink roses are, and cut the stems to length. Then with a jug in hand, one by one I put them in water in the numerous gin bottles around the family room. By the time I’m finished I’ve used gallons of water and the alternating colours really pop as the roses line up down the centre of the tables and along all the window sills.
Then I nip upstairs to catch up on the last of my present wrapping and wrap a stack of empty delivery boxes in pink and orange paper as a piece of final scene setting. I tie them up with pink and orange ribbons and big bows and pile them on the sledges under the downstairs Christmas trees and take ages getting them to look just right for the photos. I’m expecting to have to fight my way through the crowds to reach Bill’s room to grab some wifi to upload them, but when I get there the big-wave crowd has gone. I know I was cynical when we first arrived, but when I watch the rush of ‘likes’ that come in as soon as the latest parcels-under-the-tree pictures come up on Libby’s Instagram account I’m thinking how much I’ll miss this in a couple of days’ time when I don’t have to do it any more.
As I go back through the kitchen Milo has taken over the whole central island unit is cooking up a storm. I laugh at him. ‘Hey Milo, how’s it going?’ If an entire sack of flour had exploded the mess wouldn’t be any more huge. ‘You haven’t left much space for poor Willow.’ She and her other half have bagged a tiny spot by the toaster.
Milo’s voice is high and unusually strangled. ‘Ivy, I’m working on a show stopper with five different elements here, I can’t be limited by space restrictions.’
Libby’s at the kettle smiling one of those indulgent smiles she only ever brings out for Milo. ‘No need to stress, Petal, it’s going to be amazing, you’ve got my vote already.’ Which totally undermines the competition for the rest of us when she hasn’t even had a taste, but whatever.
As I catch Willow’s eye I note that she’s not jumping in to help, offering her usual homeopathic stress busters. ‘Is this the Edmunson Team corner?’
She laughs. ‘Absolutely not, it’s every person for themselves over here. Mine’s vegan lemon and elderflower with chia spice and Nigel’s doing a gluten-free Mexican carrot cake and he might try some boozy truffles too.’
Nigel pushes his on-trend specs back up his nose. ‘Then I’ll do some marshmallow snowmen cupcakes with the children later.’
I’m having a sea glass moment here. ‘But don’t marshmallows have animals in them? And what’s with the snowmen, surely it should be snow people?’
He grins. ‘No need to panic, Ivy, the Dandies’ marshmallows are all good. And obviously we’ll have equal numbers of snow women too.’
I’m smiling back. ‘Great, I’m glad to hear it, in that case I’ll head off to the beach with Fliss and catch you later.’ I turn to Libby. ‘Are you coming too?’
She’s perched on a bar stool now, looking totally teensy beside Milo, and if I didn’t know better I’d say she was positioned to take maximum advantage of the tanned and honed forearms at work here.
She wrinkles her nose. ‘You know what, I think I’ll take a second to relax … come along in a bit.’
I’m picking my jaw up off the floor because when does she ever not rush? Chilling is not in her remit. ‘What about all the fabulous surfers in Santa hats waiting to have their pictures taken?’ Three of them are her kids, after all.
She cocks an eyebrow at me. ‘Can you handle those? Just this once …’
Nigel wiggles his eyebrows at me. ‘No need for Libby to get cold, I’ll come down and help as soon as my cake’s cooked.’
Seriously, I have no idea what the frantic eyebrow action is about. If Libby’s happy to miss the once in a lifetime opportunity to watch her kids having a Christmas dip in some Cornish sea, that’s up to her.
As we walk down onto the sand a few minutes later, Fliss has Harriet in a sling carrier, I’ve got Oscar by the hand, Merwyn’s running up and down the sand alongside me and I’m soaking up the way the sunstreaks on the water are breaking up into a thousand silvery fragments as the wind blows.
Fliss turns to me, her hair blowing across her face. ‘You’re looking very thoughtful today?’
I wrinkle my nose. ‘When we go home I’m really going to miss just walking out of the door and being on the beach, that’s all.’ I dip down and pick up a cockle shell, and then another, then another – simply because I can. When I’m back in my tiny flat if they’re there on the coffee table they’ll help me believe these two weeks actually happened and I didn’t just imagine them.
She gives me a harder stare. ‘Are you sure it’s not more than that?’
I’m fighting the sea glass, because I’d love to share. And I will, once we get back and everything’s safely in the past again. ‘I’m good.’
‘Well, Aunty Fliss is here if you need to talk.’
I pat her arm. ‘Thanks, I’ll definitely take you up on that one day soon. Just not now.’
