Wednesday
25th December
35.
Tinsel, sprouts, turkey, snow!
‘Snow on Christmas morning, it’s official, I’ll love you forever for this Mr Markham …’ I’m looking down from my bedroom window, catching my breath with excitement as I take in the snow in deep drifts across the lawn, clinging to the branches of the shrubbery, and in clumps across the beach all the way down to the water’s edge.
‘I hope that’s the kind of forever that goes on to the end of time, Ms Starforth, not the kind that melts when the snow goes away.’ Bill’s lips twist as he eases his tanned shoulders back on the pillow pile. ‘So are you coming back to bed so I can give you a happywhiteChristmas kiss?’
After our first proper night together I doubt we’d have been getting up at all if it hadn’t been Christmas Day. But Christmas Days with snow are the kind of thing that happen in stories. In real life they’re so rare, however delicious and warm it is under the duvet and however sad I am to let Bill cover up that smoking hot body of his with clothes, wehaveto get up. By the time we hurry down to take Merwyn for his early walk, everyone else is already out in the garden.
Fliss calls across to us. ‘Hey, lazy bones, what time do you call this? We’ve already opened our stockings, had breakfast and built an entire family of snow people.’ She’s hauling Oscar across the lawn on one of the sledges from under the Christmas trees, dodging the snowballs that Tiff, Tansy and Scout are pelting at the boys.
As I dip into my pocket for my phone Bill gets in first and pulls me towards him. ‘Come on Ivy, smile for our first ever Christmas morning selfie together.’
I do as he asks, sneak a quick and very discreet brush of his lips then bob down. ‘And we need one with Merwyn too! And then some of the castle in the snow.’ It’s beyond picturesque with the snow-capped turrets stark against a bright blue sky, the snowy expanse of lawn and the dark trees highlighted in white where the snow is sticking to the bark. If Libby had ordered up the scene of so many people in bright coloured coats and scarves and wellies, playing in the snow in front of the castle she couldn’t have asked for any more. Even Miranda and Ambie make it outside, and Ambie donates his hat for the grandad snowman.
Once Merwyn has had a run along the beach and we’re pretty much snowballed out, we all head inside for hot chocolate, freshly cooked croissants and Milo’s ever popular griddle scones. Then Keef, Taj and the guys get going with lunch while the rest of us go into the family room to watch the children start on their present opening. Its amazing how an operation that’s taken literally weeks to prepare – I’m thinking off all Libby’s deliveries, the hours she’s been holed up in the laundry working on the gift wrapping – is demolished so fast. In minutes it’s all over and the room looks like a bomb went off in a paper recycling factory, and the kids head to Bill’s room to set up the new iPhones Libby gave them all. As soon as they’ve done that the girls come back and set up a production line in one of the tower rooms with Tansy’s new laminator and a stack of Bill’s gin labels. Before long they’re calling Keef out of the kitchen to get his step ladders and they’re sending him up the tree in the hall to hang the glossy labels in the branches alongside the shells and the miniature gin bottles.
So as Fliss and I get some after-lunch games ready and start to help lay the tables we’re already popping the corks on the Bucks Fizz, and I’m frantically dashing around taking photos because wherever I look there’s an Insta-worthy shot. Everything from the glow of the fires to the twinkle of the fairy lights is there, all given an extra brilliance because it’s Christmas Day today.
By the time we’re ready to sit down for lunch the serving table is groaning under the weight of a huge turkey and various veggie alternatives. There are dishes piled high with crispy potatoes and creamy mash whisked into peaks, there are more stuffings than I can count, towers of crusty golden Yorkshire puddings, crispy Cumberland sausages, veggie sausages, pigs in blankets, veggie pigs in vegan sleeping bags, sprouts, peas, carrots, asparagus, celery, baked squash and parsnips and peppers, jugfuls of gravy. By the time I put Libby’s phone away and sit down between Fliss and Bill and hold my glass up for Keef to fill with Prosecco I feel like a food photographer. And whatever people say about sex making you extra hungry … I’m ravenous.
The platefuls of food are so large, it takes ages to finish, but every mouthful is so delicious I can’t bear to leave any. Then just as I’m thinking I might need to get up and help clear the tables there’s the sound of a knife tapping on a glass.
As we all stop talking and look around, Miranda stands up and gives a little cough.
‘Er … Ambie and I have a little announcement to make.’
I hear Libby’s groan from further down the table. ‘Oh no, what now?’
Fliss mutters too. ‘Please may it not be Gretna Green or Vegas …’
Miranda ignores her, breathes in so deeply that her boobs practically burst out of the top of her black lacy bustier, and carries on. ‘As you all know Ambie and I got engaged a few days ago and you all helped us celebrate.’
Along the table Keef blinks at the pop of cleavage, then shakes his head.
‘Well …’ Miranda does another little cough ‘… today’s news is, we’ve decided to put our plans on hold …’
Fliss looks bemused. ‘On hold …how?’
Miranda’s beaming. ‘On hold, as in we’re gettingun-engaged for now, with a view to re-visiting the ring thing at some point in thevery distantfuture. We’ve talked about it for many hours in the hot tub and webothfeel more comfortable that way.’
Libby’s eyebrows have gone high. ‘Congratulations, Mum, it’s so much better to wait until you know each other better.’
Milo’s picked his jaw up off the floor. ‘No need to rush things … isn’t that what we’ve always said?’
As I grin at Miranda she’s beaming back at me. ‘Well done, Miranda, high fives to both of you.’ I give her hers and then look around. ‘Where’s Ambie?’
Miranda gives a little wince. ‘In the hot tub having a liquid lunch. But he’s fine with it.’
Tiff looks at Tansy. ‘What the fuck? How the hell are we kids meant to keep up with who our step-grandparents are going to be when they change their minds all the time?’
‘LANGUAGE, TIFFANY!’ The glare that Libby sends Tiff is fierce enough to nuke her, but she can’t hold it. A second later she’s back to grinning again.
Fliss is holding up her glass. ‘So let’s all drink togooddecisions – and being sensible in your sixties!’
