Page 14 of The Village Christmas Party

‘Yes, but I was almost hyperventilating all day just thinking about it. And I know it sounds stupid, but it was dark, and that kind of helped.’

‘I know what you mean. Sometimes it’s easier to be in the shadows.’

‘Yes! Maybe that’s it.’ She nods. ‘I’ve never been very good at being in the spotlight.’

‘Then you have done very well working in a shop. Dealing with the public isn’t always the easiest thing, so you should congratulate yourself on that.’

It’s a strange irony in life that the best people often lack confidence whereas those distinctly average types can be full of it.

‘You must let me buy you another coffee, if you have the time,’ says Audrey. ‘You have been so lovely.’

‘I do actually.’

‘Great. Do you fancy a mince pie?’ she asks.

‘Sure why not. I’ll get that though.’

‘No, you won’t, it’s my treat,’ she insists, before striding towards the counter.

We finish our coffees and delicious mince pies, and I discover that Audrey lives a couple of miles away, so I drop her off rather than her waiting for her bus in the cold evening air.

As I watch her walk up the path with flower borders of the neat semi-detached house in the cul-de-sac, she turns and waves, and I get a warm feeling inside. The thrill of helping others never fails to make me feel good.

EIGHT

‘Oh, Mum, really? Do you have to? It’s freezing outside at this time of year.’

‘You have to take a stand for what’s right, love, and if local shops are on board it’s a good start.’

Mum is telling me that she and a group of friends are staging a protest outside the Co-op tomorrow, as they have refused to ban products containing palm oil.

‘You could just stop buying things that contain palm oil?’ I suggest as I put a wash on, but she insists on being part of protests that will make the local news.

‘Well, of course I already do that. It isn’t necessary to use it while there are so many alternatives,’ she insists. ‘Those poor orangutans are losing their habitat at an alarming rate.’

She takes a bite of a chocolate chip biscuit, of which she never checked the ingredients, it could be full of all sorts of planet-destroying chemicals, let alone dairy. It isn’t, it’s Sainsbury’s organic range, but she doesn’t know that.

I spotted Mum walking towards my place as I drove home and stopped to give her a lift. We are now sitting in the lounge, Mum enjoying a herbal tea and a biscuit.

‘You have made it lovely here, you have a real eye for design,’ says Mum as she glances around. ‘I can still remember my parents’ tree in that corner,’ she says, nodding towards mine that wouldn’t look out of place in a Bentham’s window display.

The lounge walls are painted a soft grey and I have lots of plants and black-and-white prints on the walls.

‘I do love this house and I always enjoy it when you come and stay,’ I remind Mum. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

In some ways I wish she would move in. I would love to look after my mum when she gets a little older, just as I recall her looking after my gran and grandad.

‘I know, love, but I’m perfectly happy in the flat, you know I prefer the location.’

‘Well, you should at least come and have a sleepover soon. You know, have a girlie night, a movie and so on.’

‘Would you really like that?’ She seems surprised by my invitation. ‘I thought you preferred your friends for that sort of thing. Not your old mum.’

‘You’re not old. And, oh, Mum, of course I would! I miss you sometimes,’ I find myself saying, which isn’t really like me to say out loud, and feel a lump in my throat. ‘I mean, we see each other regularly for a brew and a chat, but I would love us to spend more quality time together, watching old movies and laughing at something silly.’

‘I’d like that too.’ Mum smiles.

‘Great. Maybe we could look through some old photo albums and have a glass of wine too,’ I suggest.

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