Page 26 of The Village Christmas Party

‘Did he seem okay? Was he expecting you?’ I ask as I unravel a set of tree lights that has seen better days from a box.

‘Well, he seemed in good spirits, and, yes, he was expecting me. I texted him when you told me about the heart attack,’ she tells me as she unpacks a foil ceiling star and smiles. ‘We talked about the only other time he had been in hospital, which was when he fell off a ladder and broke his leg. You were only about six years old, so I don’t suppose you remember it,’ says Mum as she now pulls a rather tired-looking angel from a box.

I vaguely recall the incident, although I think I remember it more because the story was retold so many times. Dad had climbed a rotten wooden ladder unbeknown to him, and a runggave way and he fell onto the patio. Thankfully not from too great a height, but enough to break a leg.

‘He said the hospital food hadn’t improved much. I took him a slice of sugar free chocolate beetroot cake, and he said it was lovely. There’s hope for him yet.’ She giggles.

As it’s two days before Christmas, the usual keep fit classes and slimming clubs have finished until the new year, so we spend the evening decorating the tree and hanging the nostalgic foil decorations from the ceiling.

The giant Santa has been inflated and plugged in near the entrance, and when it starts singing ‘Frosty the Snowman’, we roar with laughter. It has a deep voice that matches the scary appearance, and I wonder who on earth designed it? Or maybe it is just malfunctioning. Either way, it’s hysterical.

‘Do you know, me and Barry were sat last night all cosy watching a drama and having a little drink, and I started thinking about people on their own at this time of year,’ says Sue as she places a string of paper lanterns across a window. ‘It feels so good to bring them together at Christmas, even if it’s only for one day, although I know it’s more than a day, which is down to your thoughtfulness,’ she says kindly.

A couple of years ago us volunteers also took details of anyone who would like a visit through the week from one of us, or put them in touch with Age UK, who arranged little outings. One lady was very reticent at first, shy by nature, but ended up enjoying trips to Blackpool and Lytham St Annes. It was the highlight of her trip when she ran into a one-time TV comedian outside Blackpool Tower, who duly posed for a selfie with her.

I’m sure Sue was thinking about the older people at Christmas, but it can be lonely for younger people too. Even when surrounded by family you can still feel lonely, something I know only too well, especially being an only child. Or maybe it’s a feeling of being alone rather than lonely, as after the big dayeveryone goes back to their busy lives, don’t they? Which was why I was determined to help some of the older people make connections all year round.

‘No one should be alone at Christmas, love, including yourself, so if the situation ever arises that you are, you know where we are, the more the merrier I say, and you too, of course,’ she says to my mum.

Sue always has a crowd around her Christmas table, and I know she means every word.

‘Thanks, Sue,’ I tell her genuinely. ‘But I can’t lie, after the busy Christmas Eve I quite like a quiet one on the day itself. I don’t know where you get your energy from.’

‘Me too,’ says Mum. ‘I always look forward to a Christmas movie in the evening.’ She smiles warmly at me. ‘With a Baileys or two.’

‘I’ve always thrived on being busy,’ says Sue. ‘I never know what to do with myself when I have some spare time.’

‘She usually drags me out somewhere, which generally involves spending money,’ says Barry good-naturedly and Sue tuts and tells him that you can’t take it with you when you go.

‘You should take some time to relax though, or doing too much can catch up with you,’ I tell Sue, thinking of Dad and his heart problems.

‘Talking of taking a break, I’ll go and pop the kettle on and make us all a brew,’ says Mum.

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, even though I like being on the go, I do know how to relax,’ Sue tells me. ‘Especially later in the day. I can spend hours in the bath reading. Ask Barry, he’s forever banging on the door telling me to hurry up.’ She chuckles. ‘We really do need to get a second loo downstairs.’

‘Maybe we would have the money to do that if we stop going out for lunch,’ he says and she scrunches up a paper napkin and throws it at him.

I stand back and look at the festooned hall that is beginning to look a bit like a grotto. I hope we haven’t gone overboard, but then, can you ever have too many decorations at Christmas?

‘Will your dad be home for Christmas?’ asks Sue as she straightens a slightly wonky-looking Christmas Santa on the window.

‘Yes, he’s being discharged this afternoon, with an operation scheduled for after Christmas. I did ask him and Rose to join me and Mum for Christmas lunch. At least that way I could keep an eye on him,’ I confide to Sue.

‘Did you? That was a nice idea. What did he say?’ asks Mum, returning from the kitchen carrying a tray with mugs of tea.

‘He turned me down, or, more accurately, Rose did. Dad never actually said anything,’ I tell her, recalling his resigned expression.

‘Well, it was nice of you to ask. Maybe you just put them on the spot, and they will come round to the idea.’

‘Maybe,’ I say doubtfully.

Sue opens her bag and pulls out a box of After Eight mints and offers me one. ‘Dark chocolate is actually proven to be very good for you.’ She winks, before popping one into her mouth.

‘Go on then, if you say so,’ I say, taking one, unable to resist my favourite dark chocolate.

Thinking of the pensioners who are alone at Christmas makes me think of the Christmas I spent by myself, when Mum and Dad decided to go on a cruise. That was before Mum became interested in saving the planet, of course. She would never go on a diesel guzzling ship these days. They had tried to persuade me to go along too as I’d just split with my boyfriend but, in all honesty, I just wanted to binge-watch TV and eat too much food. I painted on my brightest smile and convinced my parents I would spend the day with Gemma, who was actually going to Prague with her boyfriend.

The reality was, I hit the gin and cried through Christmas Day and ended up asking a colleague to do a shift swap, meaning I was back at work for the Boxing Day sales. I told my parents that I’d had a fine old time, and swore Gemma to secrecy about me spending the day alone.

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