Page 7 of I’ll Be Home for Christmas

‘Is there something wrong?’ Chrissie had asked her daughter when they went off to use the facilities at the castle while Rhys and his mum were asking the venue manager about the building itself.

Sarah had shaken her head. ‘There’s nothing wrong.’ And she’d smiled that smile Chrissie knew all too well.

‘There is something wrong. Do you not like any of the places we’ve seen so far? Because that’s fine. We can make another list. Or is it that you don’t like the idea of Northumberland? Because that’s fine too. Make all the guests from here come to us in Oxfordshire if you like.’

‘I don’t know. I’ll talk to Rhys.’ And that had been that.

The next hour at the surgery was one of their busiest and took Chrissie’s mind off Sarah. The remains of her coffee went stone cold as she alternated between handing out prescriptions, triaging patients on the phone, and dealing with paperwork. The automated check-in system had cut down on their workload somewhat, but it didn’t deal with difficult patients or their relatives. Poor Maria dealt with an incredibly irate man yelling at her because there were no appointments for four days. Not everyone realised that while receptionists were on the frontline so to speak, they couldn’t control everything.

‘You handled that like a pro,’ Chrissie told Maria when the man walked away. Her colleague was incredibly diplomatic. She’d been here longer than Chrissie and had taught Chrissie the art of letting someone rant a little bit but then firmly letting them know that their behaviour wasn’t going to win them any prizes, nor an appointment sooner than they could arrange.

‘I almost didn’t.’ Maria pulled a face. ‘I thought he was about to throw my Christmas lantern across the room.’

The Christmas lantern had a Father Christmas inside and snow falling continuously thanks to the battery at the base. She’d put it on the reception desk to add to the festive feeling, along with the holly behind the painting on the wall and the tinsel around the architrave of the doorway.

‘Is that why you stood up?’ Chrissie asked Maria, who had adjusted the position of the lantern so it wasn’t quite so near the edge and in the firing line.

Maria grinned. ‘I was ready to grab the lantern if he went for it. And I’m taller than he was. I thought standing might give me more of a presence and force him to calm down, even though I didn’t say anything else.’

‘You’re the least scary person I know, Maria.’

‘He behaved, didn’t he?’

‘He did.’ Maybe a lot could be said without words. At least Chrissie hoped so. She hoped Sarah’s silence since she announced she would be in Switzerland for Christmas simply meant that she was all right.

When Chrissie had told Maria that she was going to watch movies and eat chocolate and drink mulled wine over the Christmas period, Maria probably assumed she’d be doing that with Sarah whenever she could, and especially on Christmas Day, because that was what had happened every other year, but this year she’d be doing it on her own. There would be no putting their pyjamas on and snuggling on the sofa with snacks and their nine-year-old beagle, Tessa, curled up in a little ball between them. There would be no movies to make them laugh or make them cry.

Chrissie’s neighbour, Nolan, had asked her and Sarah over to his place for Christmas right before Sarah told Chrissie that Rhys wanted her to spend Christmas with him, but since the Christmas Chrissie lost Anthony, she’d always wanted to be in her own home. She’d wanted to do the familiar things, leave no surprises apart from the gifts beneath the tree. Calm, predictable, home. It was her safe place.

She thought about Nolan. He’d moved in six months ago and she couldn’t have asked for a better man to live next door. He was kind, attractive, only a couple of years older than her – not that either of those things made him a good neighbour necessarily – and they were good friends. He’d invited both Chrissie and Sarah to enjoy Christmas lunch at his place, as it would only be him and his daughter this year when she came to visit for a fortnight. Chrissie had said they’d think about it, but really, she had no intention of doing anything different to usual.

When Sarah had revealed that Rhys wanted her to share Christmas with him, Chrissie had wanted to grab Sarah’s hands and point out this would be their last Christmas together before she got married. But she knew she had no right to make Sarah feel guilty.

Perhaps she would go to Nolan’s with Sarah not here. Maybe it would do her good.

Chrissie hadn’t always been this way, worried about the unknown, fretting about the intricacies of a situation. After Anthony died, she’d somehow become a stickler for routine and doing things the same way she always had. Ever since the news that had altered her world forever, she’d found comfort in keeping everything on an even keel, stable, and in control. She wanted to know what was coming, for herself and for her daughter, at all times.

When Sarah was little, she’d reminded Chrissie of herself in the years they’d moved around as a family. Chrissie had had to do it too with her dad in the army, and although it upset her being separated from him for long periods at a time, or seeing the worry on her mother’s face, she’d embraced the sense of adventure. The Chrissie back then had loved seeing new places, meeting new people. She took all of it in her stride. She’d had Christmases in Germany, Cyprus, the USA and Gibraltar. And when her dad was with them, they’d put up the decorations together. When her dad wasn’t around, Chrissie and her sister, Meg, would get them done. Their mum, Astrid, loved to bake, loved the decorations, but preferred to stay busy in the kitchen while the rest of the family dealt with the lights and the tree and everything else. The girls always said that the magic in the kitchen, which created a delicious, warm aroma that mixed with the smell of the fir tree, provided one of the best feelings of home that they’d ever had. Back then Chrissie had always said that it didn’t matter where they were – home was a feeling, not a place.

She didn’t feel that way so much now.

And her sister, Meg, had never felt that way.

Meg had struggled with all the toing and froing, and she’d had enough tantrums about it. Chrissie remembered being annoyed with her big sister when Meg ruined family time by nagging their father as they embarked on yet another move, but it was his job. He left the army just before Meg turned thirteen and Chrissie eleven, but his newfound career path in construction led to them having to relocate once more and then he’d spend long hours away from home when he had to take jobs further afield. When the time was right and schooling permitted, they’d all moved to Switzerland for Earl to take up a job there working for a friend of his. Their parents had said that it was a chance for a new beginning, somewhere they wanted to settle – apparently, they’d talked about it for a long time. Chrissie had been so excited, packing her bags almost at the same time as their parents shared the news, but Meg had been more reticent. Perhaps a part of Meg had always thought they’d be on the move again.

Chrissie could remember the first day she and Meg had seen the snow in Switzerland. They’d gone out together, made snow angels in the back garden, and then they’d nagged their parents into taking them further afield the day after. They’d all trekked along one of the hiking trails, drunk hot chocolates from a local café as they walked, Chrissie arm in arm with Meg. Back then, Chrissie had thought nothing would ever break her and her sister apart.

The whole family had embraced and enjoyed the start of their new life in Switzerland, but for Meg it hadn’t lasted long at all. She’d started talking about returning to England; she always said she wanted to settle and never have the nomadic life again, and that was fine. What wasn’t all right was when Chrissie met Anthony and Meg had declared what she thought of her sister marrying a man in the RAF and embarking on the same sort of life they’d had as girls. And she’d picked one of the worst times to really voice her opinion. She’d done it in public, in front of everyone they knew.

And Chrissie had never forgiven her for ruining her wedding.

4

MEG

In the kitchen of her little flat in Kentish Town, Meg lined up the festive moulds which would hold the chocolate in the shape of Christmas baubles in one tray, stockings and Father Christmas formations in another.

She checked how much packaging she had left. She’d been getting through it at a rate of knots with creativity and chocolate being her outlet when she was stressed and feeling down, but she still had plenty of the pink square and rectangular cardboard boxes with the white writing on top that reminded her of what had once been.