Christmas at Bay Tree Cottage Read online

  ‘No, Mum. Have you seen the new floor? It’s amazing.’

  Maya is clearly impressed, but then we’ve been living with concrete for such a very long time. Maybe she doubted it would ever be finished. As I walk through my heart actually rises in my chest as, aside from the ugly gaps along the bottom of the walls from the missing skirting boards, there’s an expanse of walnut laminate.

  ‘You seem surprised,’ Luke looks up, surveying my reaction.

  ‘Yes, this is real progress.’

  ‘Well, don’t be too impressed. This is the easy part and it goes down quite quickly. It’s all the cutting around the doorways that is labour-intensive and takes the most time. The finish is what you wanted?’

  ‘It’s perfect. I mean, already the room sounds less hollow. Maya’s given you the thumbs up.’

  ‘I know, she told me.’

  ‘The girls are having a picnic up in Maya’s room, so I thought I’d do sandwiches for lunch. How late are you working, because I’ll prepare something hot for dinner, later?’

  ‘I’ll keep going until early evening, but I want to stop soon and do some of the cutting. I don’t think it’s fair on your neighbours if I’m outside using the circular saw past late afternoon.’

  ‘Sandwiches are on the way, then.’

  As I work on lunch I reflect on the fact that I love it when there are other people here with us. Luke mumbles to himself as he works and I wonder whether it’s a tune that’s playing in his head and he’s being respectful by holding back. If we weren’t here would he turn out to be a closet singer? I love watching him work, the way his body moves and how absorbed he becomes with the job in hand. He’s an artist with his hands and I admire his skill. Luke is just so easy to be around and he’s really good company. I wonder if we’d met at a party whether we’d have been attracted to each other and started talking? I smile to myself; daydreaming is a luxury I can’t afford and I reluctantly drag my eyes away from his muscular arms to focus on what I’m doing.

  Maya and Amelie are giggling away upstairs; goodness knows what they’re talking about. But it gives the cottage a buzz that’s been missing for a while.

  When I take up the girls’ tray I see they’ve made a den, using Maya’s throw, and the floor is covered with felt-tip pens, magazines and notebooks.

  ‘Looks like you’ve been having fun, girls.’

  ‘We’re making scrapbooks, Mum.’

  ‘That’s a great idea. Just don’t forget to stop and eat.’

  Even before I reach the door it’s as if I’m not there, as two heads are busy ripping pages out of magazines. ‘I want Justin Bieber,’ Amelie exclaims and I shake my head as I make my way out of the room.

  Walking into the kitchen Luke follows me on his way back from the downstairs cloakroom.

  ‘Just in time. Take a seat.’

  ‘Thanks. Could I trouble you for a large glass of water? It’s hot work.’ He begins rolling up the sleeves on his plaid shirt. Obviously he must be feeling comfortable, as he launches straight into the pile of sandwiches on his plate.

  I take my seat, trying hard not to look at Niall’s empty place at the table.

  ‘You’re rather quiet today. There’s nothing wrong, is there?’ He talks between bites, chewing way too fast for it to be good for his digestion. But I could sit and watch him eat as a pastime. He devours his food with the same level of energy he tackles his work.

  ‘The main job I’m working on at the moment is a biography. I’m at that stage where I don’t quite have all of the information I need to see the whole picture, but what I do have has to be written up. It’s rather like putting a jigsaw puzzle together.’

  ‘Sounds fascinating,’ he pauses to wipe his mouth with the paper napkin. Instead of taking another bite of his sandwich, he sits back ready to listen. I hadn’t intended saying anything further but his eyes remain very firmly focused on me.

  ‘I think I might have a bit of a dilemma brewing, if I’m honest.’

  ‘Time for some detective work, maybe.’ He begins eating again but doesn’t take his eyes off me.

  ‘That’s why I’m away New Year’s Eve. I’ll be meeting my subject face to face for the first time. The problem is that I think I’m being fed information by him and his manager, whereas the arrangement is that I should be given unrestricted access. That hasn’t been the case so far.’

  ‘Is that what they call being a ghost writer? Wouldn’t it be easier to write your own stuff, instead?’

  I shake my head, swallowing a mouthful of food and realising I was hungrier than I thought.

  ‘I trained as a journalist and fiction isn’t my thing. I mostly edit children’s books, the occasional young-adult novel and text books. I’ve worked for a couple of the newspapers over the years, but editing is easier as it means I don’t have to traipse around in search of a story.’

  ‘Bet there was a buzz, though. It is kind of isolated here and you don’t seem to get out much.’

  Suddenly the look passing between us feels a little uneasy. It was merely an observation, of course, but is it a polite way of saying my life looks rather boring?

  ‘It’s hard to pick back up again as everywhere I go family and friends are thinking of me as one half of a couple. It’s a constant reminder to them of what’s happened. Niall was as much a part of their lives as I am, but now everything is different. If they aren’t worrying about unwittingly saying the wrong thing, they feel they should be encouraging me to look to the future. As the months passed I accepted the invites to dinners and meals out, but people tend to like round numbers and so you find yourself seated next to people you don’t know. They think it’s helpful drafting in their single friends in the hope that one of them will prove interesting. To be frank with you, it’s all rather ghastly. For the moment I’m happy enough to concentrate on work and Maya.’

  Luke sits back, his plate empty. His eyes flick over me, as if he’s weighing me up.

  ‘Maybe it’s time to think a little less and have a bit of fun, instead.’

  Is he flirting with me? I can feel my cheeks growing hot. I immediately run my hands through my hair, conscious that this morning it’s even more wayward than usual. I must look a mess in my tracksuit bottoms and baggy sweater.

  ‘Is this me we’re talking about, or you?’ I counter in an attempt to divert his attention.

  His jaw drops a little and the sparkle is back in those eyes of his.

  ‘Fair play, I’m just repeating some advice I was given this week. I wanted to see your reaction, out of interest. I sure as hell have no idea how to shake everything off and have a little fun. I’m not even sure I know what it means now. I seem to spend all my time stressing over Joe and how he’s handling the situation. Any time left I’m caught up with worrying about money, or lack of it.’

  The eye contact grows and neither of us blinks until Maya and Amelie come running downstairs with empty plates, filling the room with their boisterous antics and asking if they can have some ice cream.

  Chapter 22

  Luke

  Life Can Be Scary For a Whole Host of Reasons

  Greg’s text is the last thing I wanted to wake up to on a Monday morning.

  Hey, mate. It’s all arranged. The four of us will get together on the twenty-eighth. Cheryl has tickets for a buffet at The Rage Machine, so come prepared to party as there will be a DJ and some great music. It’s only one night and I’ll owe you. G

  Owe me? He’ll be in my debt for the rest of his life. It’s the in-place for singles and it’s noisy. I’ve never been into knocking back shots and trying to dance in a place so packed with bodies that you can’t help getting up close and personal with complete strangers. If that’s the sort of place Cheryl and Lisa frequent, then we’re not going to have anything in common. Besides, I come with baggage, not least because I no longer feel like the carefree, single guy I think they will be expecting and doubt I ever will again.

  When I pull up at the office Dad says we have to h
ead off to do an emergency repair on a broken window in the town centre. Seems there was a stag do last night that ended up way out of control. When we arrive it looks like someone went on a rampage. Even though the metal grill protecting the glass is still in place, something sharp has been pushed through at force. It’s mindless vandalism for no reason at all, as there’s no way anyone could get their hands through to grab any of the goods inside the store.

  I hate days like this and, to make it worse, it starts to rain. Repairing unnecessary damage is rather soul-destroying and I find myself getting wound up over Greg’s text.

  ‘Is everything okay my son? This rain is a pain we could do without today. I said we’d board it up and the glass should arrive tomorrow. If you need to get back to Hillside View, I could get one of the other guys to help me.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. Another half a day and the skip will be full and I’ll have it collected. I’m done then and you can put me on something else.’

  Dad slides the boarding into place and I begin hammering.

  ‘How’s Bay Tree going? If you have your hands full I could write you out of the schedule through to Christmas.’

  He’s trying to be helpful, but I know it’s always a juggling act at this time of year. Three of us are multi-skilled, including plumbing, and I know he’s turning a lot of work away. Emergency call-outs command a premium rate.

  ‘I’m on target, no worries there.’

  ‘We’re really looking forward to the weekend and having you and Joe stay over. He’s a grand little chap.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad. I also appreciate it as I’m a bit nervous, if I’m honest. What if he gets upset when Anita isn’t there at bedtime? I mean, he’s still a baby really.’

  ‘Well, it’s probably going to be easier with Mum around to help out. I’m not sure I could have coped on my own when you were young, either. I’m happy to sit down and have a play, but the minute they get grumpy I don’t have a clue.’

  Sadly, I feel exactly the same way. Do I know my son well enough to judge what he wants when he’s tired and his routine is broken? What if he ends up screaming and inconsolable, wanting his mum? What if I end up having to bundle him into the car and admit defeat? Anita is bound to see that as yet another failure on my part.

  ***

  ‘Four more days, Luke, and there’s no more school.’

  Maya is sitting on the floor next to me, watching as I mark up a piece of laminate ready to cut.

  ‘I thought you liked school?’

  ‘I do, but I like the Christmas holidays more. And I’m going to be staying at Grandma’s house at New Year. We always have fun. Mummy says they spoil me, but I like it.’

  I wonder if Joe will ever get the chance to have alone time with his grandparents. I can see by Maya’s reaction that it’s a real treat.

  ‘What are you having for Christmas, Luke?’

  Maya tilts her head to one side, studying my face as I sit back on my heels to consider my answer.

  Before I can think of something suitable to say, Elana appears and answers for me.

  ‘Lots of new socks and some peace and quiet. Maya, Luke is trying to work, darling. He’s had a long day and, besides, it’s time you popped into bed.’

  Maya turns her back to Elana and gives me a conspiratorial look.

  ‘Who wants socks for Christmas?’ She asks, under her breath but loud enough for me to hear. I can’t help myself laughing.

  ‘Night, Maya. Sleep well.’

  As they climb the stairs and I get back to work, it occurs to me that there’s usually a good reason why mums bear the brunt of the work when it comes to rearing kids. Every question Maya asks makes me stop and think, whereas Elana has an instant answer and it’s always the right one. It’s the same with Anita; she just knows what to do without having to think about it. Mums have that natural ability, whereas maybe dads have to learn it. Over time I hope that I can become the sort of dad who Joe will not only look up to, but with whom he’ll feel safe. Safe to share his secrets, as well as safe in the knowledge that I’ll always be there for him when he needs me.

  Chapter 23

  Luke

  Reluctant or Unwilling?

  When Elana reappears she looks tired.

  ‘I’m having a glass of wine, would you like one, or maybe a beer?’

  ‘A beer would hit the spot. Give me half an hour and I’ll join you for a chat.’

  She glances up at me from underneath her eyelashes, enquiringly. Usually I down tools and we sit, talk for a while and then I get back to work. Tonight I want to ask her opinion about something because she’s about the only one I can ask who won’t have a biased view.

  ‘Great, shout when you’re ready.’

  As usual, the last piece of the day is the one that just won’t fit properly, but I’m conscious that Maya is probably snuggling down to sleep and you can’t hammer boards together without making some noise.

  I tidy up and head into the sitting room to see if Elana’s busy. It can wait if she’s on the PC and I’ll go home instead and just make it an early night. As I hover in the doorway, she’s stooped over in the fire grate picking something up.

  ‘This just fell down the chimney.’ She straightens, holding up one of Maya’s little letters in her hand and with a puzzled look on her face.

  ‘It was actually on the ledge. There are a few of them. I sort of thought you knew she’d been writing to Santa.’

  Elana indicates for me to sit down, handing me a beer and a bottle opener.

  ‘Maya gave me a letter to post, which I did, but I took a peek first. It was a short list and everything is on order, except the piano, which has been replaced by a small keyboard.’

  She’s smiling, so it hasn’t upset her that I knew what was going on.

  ‘How did you find out about them?’ She asks and I guess I’m not completely off the hook.

  ‘The fireplace seems to be a big deal to Maya for some reason. She wanted to know whether it was safe now and that Santa wasn’t in any danger come Christmas Eve. For a kid, she’s great at applying logic. You have to be careful what you say, because she considers every word.’

  ‘I know. She’s one bright little girl. It’s a dilemma, though, isn’t it? What do I do? Read what she’s written so I know what’s going on inside her head, or accept that everyone has the right to have secret thoughts?’

  Elana looks down at the little letter lying unopened on the coffee table. It’s folded into four and on the upside it says ‘Santa’. It’s the one with the heart drawn underneath Maya’s handwriting.

  ‘I keep a daily diary; it’s one of the self-help techniques you learn when you go for bereavement counselling. Well, I say daily, but now I just add to it once in a while. I guess that means I’m making progress. It’s not something I’d ever share with anyone and I’d be horrified if someone else read it.’

  We lapse into silence. We all have things we might not be too happy to share with the world.

  ‘Anyway, I’ll have to mull it over. So what’s new with you?’ As usual she’s giving me the chance to talk without any pressure. I take a swig of beer, trying to collect my thoughts and not really knowing how to approach this.

  ‘I’m having Joe overnight this weekend, first time ever. Okay, we’ll be sleeping over at my parents’ house. I will admit I’m a little anxious about it, but it’s a huge step forward and shows that Anita thinks I’m up to it. It’s all about the kids, isn’t it?’

  There’s a little furrow lurking on Elana’s brow.

  ‘Yes, it is and they always come first. But is this only about Joe, or is it about Anita, too?’

  Her eyes narrow slightly as she takes in my sharp intake of breath. ‘Be honest with yourself, Luke.’

  I cast around for the right words, my head processing so many thoughts coming at me from all angles.

  ‘Not, it’s not. But I’m not sure anyone else around me can understand what it’s like to have their world fall apart, except you. I suppose it�
�s only natural that I should still feel some sort of residual guilt because we failed Joe. A part of me wonders if she’s reaching out to me for another reason and I don’t know how to handle that. Any wise words of advice?’

  ‘If you were sitting there telling me that you loved her, really loved her, then I’d say get in your car now and go tell her how you feel. Don’t let another second slip away without letting her know that, just in case there’s a chance you can still make it work. I don’t know Anita at all, but what I do know is that a woman wants to be loved for who she is, not just because she’s given birth to a child. She’ll always be in your life, as you will be in hers, because of Joe. But if you don’t truly love each other what possible hope could there be for your long-term relationship as a couple?’

  ‘I’m trying to hold on because I can’t seem to let go. What did I do that was so wrong?’

  I put down the beer bottle and lean forward, cradling my head in my hands.

  ‘Luke, it takes two people to make a relationship and it takes two to break it. Nothing you’ve said indicates that Anita is asking you to give it another try, am I right?’

  I nod, knowing full well she’s right. ‘It’s time to face facts, isn’t it? It’s really over.’

  ‘It’s only natural to want to cling on, Luke. I know that only too well. Letting go is a process, a painful one. Added to that, you have to learn to cultivate a very different kind of relationship with Anita as you move forward. Working on that benefits you all, including Joe.’

  I rub my eyes, tiredness suddenly hitting me like a slap in the face. Or maybe it’s the onslaught of thoughts, fragments of angry outbursts and rows I don’t really want to remember.

  ‘I’d better go. That was helpful, thanks. No point in trying to kid myself. If there was anything left to salvage we wouldn’t be a year down the road and still apart.’

  ‘Can I ask what really triggered this?’ Elana’s voice is full of sympathy.