16.
The more the merrier …
By the time Libby and the kids get back from wherever they’ve been Fliss has gone off to bed with her two, and Merwyn and I have already had our late night walk.
I say wherever they’ve been – but thanks to my new phone being hooked up to all Libby’s and her family’s accounts, I’ve been following them and their patchwork of posts across the county. Most of them tucked into mac cheese for breakfast atPret, then had fun watching planes before going back toPretagain for more of the same. They then went on to the cinema complex in Falmouth to watchFrozen 2(again), eat every flavour of Krispy Kreme donut going and buy popcorn from a real live human pop corn dispenser. Quite a few times. Then they called in at Maccie D’s.
Obviously these activities weren’t aspirational enough to make it onto Libby’s feed. She mainly put up floury baking-in-progress shots with arty out-of-focus fairy lights from the castle kitchen that I’d sent her. Then a fast forward video clip of gingerbread people being hung on the tree with the sound ofFeliz Navidadin the background, occasionally panning out to Oscar and Harriet watching, completely enraptured.
Fliss should enjoy it while she can. Who knew the wonder of Christmas ran out at such an early age these days? If Libby’s kids are anything to go by, it’s all over by the time they’re four. Although as far as captivation with tree decorating went, obviously we didn’t load the bit where Oscar helped himself to a gingerbread man then pebble dashed the French windows and a large area of the island unit as he spat it out. But at least from now on he won’t be helping himself. And thank Christmas Bill wasn’t around to see that bit either.
As Tom and co. amble in late in the evening I’m lounging on the sofa with Merwyn who’s having a sneaky sit next to me. We’re both in our third best Christmas jumpers because, to be honest, Libby’s lot are such a downer we needed to do something to cheer ourselves up. As they trail through, I’ve already worked out a ploy to hurry their long faces through with the minimum of lingering.
I jump up and put my brightest voice on. ‘Hot chocolate to drink by the fire anyone? We have marshmallows, squirty cream, chocolate sprinklies, and sparkly snowflakes for toppings.’ It’s amazing what they stock in St AidanSpar. Goodies like this are why it took me so long this morning. I’m already at the Aga, milk and mugs at the ready to speed them through to the family space.
Libby’s coming towards me. ‘Leave the cocoa to me, Ivy.You go and ask Billabout interesting days out locally for the kids for tomorrow.’
It’s a good thing I’m watching out for her foot coming towards mine. I jump sideways at the last moment and instead of her boot landing and crushing my toe it crashes down on the floorboards. For someone so teensy and slight she’s got a stonking left foot on her.
I’m beaming at her from the safety of two yards along the worktop, fishing for more clues. ‘What kind of children?’
Over the top of her ice-white cashmere roll neck she’s re-knotting the scrunchie on her perfect silky ponytail and hissing at me, ‘The vegan moaners are arriving first thing.’
There’s some kind of strangled noise coming from inside Tom’s hood. ‘Get real, Mum, just call them the Twiglets like everyone else does.’
‘Tom!’ If Libby’s amused it hasn’t reached her lips as she turns to me. ‘The mum’s called Willow, they’re thin, home schooled and painfully fragile.’
Tarkie’s throwing in his contribution. ‘They’re twiggy like stickmen, they wear dungarees and live in the family tree.’
If these are her friends and she despairs of them, I must remember to ask Fliss why she’s invited them.
‘Enough, Tarkie!’ The glare she turns on him is chilly enough to freeze-blast him. Then she turns back to me again. ‘Just find me an Instagram-worthy destination and we’ll have a day out witheveryone. You too.’
I’m nodding furiously. ‘Great, got that, two minutes, I’ll see what Bill says.’ And thank frig that I’ve left my laptop in there and that Bill’s Do Not Disturb sign isn’t up yet.
Me hanging onto my super-bright smile for Bill’s benefit turns out to be unnecessary. When I knock and Merwyn and I slip into the bedroom there’s enough of his scent around to be disturbing, but no sign of the man himself. As I perch on his bed and open up Google I’m half thinking Bill might come along too. Then Iunthink it just as fast. Because that’s the last thing he’d want and the last thing I’d want either. Where kids are concerned, however differently Fliss saw it, I know better. Children in the same county is too close for Bill. You only had to see him earlier, when he collided with the kids he couldn’t get away fast enough.
When Mr Google finally comes up with festive delights for kids in the area – well, all I can say is Cornwall’s not London. It’s a dead cert they’ll get rejected, but I note them down anyway and whistle a rather confused Merwyn straight back to the kitchen.
I’m taking a deep breath to announce the list but Tarkie gets in first over the packets of chocolate sprinkles.
‘What did she go in there for?’
Libby’s warning face tells me what I already know – for everyone’s sake,they must not find out about the wifi. She opens her mouth to answer them, but Tansy’s already eyeing me smugly.
‘That’s where her boyfriend is, silly, she goes to snog him. Youmusthave noticed, she’s in there all the time.’
Libby coughs. Hopefully she’ll crush this with the same efficiency she uses when she stamps on people’s feet. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ For someone in control her voice is rather squeaky.
Tansy’s looking triumphant. ‘Granny Miranda said it.’
As I wade in to put them right I’m inwardly cursing Libby for her lightweight challenge and Miranda for blurting her opinions. ‘ONE, he’s notmyboyfriend, his partner is a supermodel barrister, andTWO, there won’t be snogging, because we don’t have mistletoe.’
Tiff’s eyes narrow. ‘A barristeranda supermodel … likethatwould ever happen. If it was at all real I’d totally need to interview her for the vlog.’
Libby’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘No mistletoe?! What an oversight! How can you possibly style an Instagram Christmas withoutthat?’
The side eye Tiff sends me is worse than Merwyn’s, and that’s saying something. ‘You must think we were born yesterday. Everyone knows, the first rule of having a boyfriend is you never admit it.’
