Page 43 of The Village Christmas Party

‘Definitely not. Not on my watch.’

‘Gemma,’ says Kian. ‘Was she at the gingerbread evening with you?’ he asks.

‘That’s right. We work together at Bentham’s.’

‘Of course.’ He smiles. ‘It’s hard not to notice that beautiful red hair,’ he says and I agree with him.

His comment makes me wonder whether it was Gemma he was looking over at during the gingerbread evening, and not me as she thought? And would it really matter if it was?

I don’t have time to dwell on that with so many things to do, and soon enough the potatoes are roasting in the oven and it’s time for me, Sue and a couple of other volunteers who have just arrived, to go and collect the pensioners who are unable to make their own way here.

My stomach is churning, praying everything will be alright this afternoon when a catering van arrives, no doubt filled with the goodies for Bella’s party. All I can do is pray that today turns out to be a good day for everyone.

The giant snowman has been erected in the entrance hall of the centre, and has the pensioners laughing as they come in, with its rather slow rendition of ‘Frosty the Snowman’.

‘Well, would you look at that.’ Eileen claps her hands together and gazes at the swathe of pink and mauve at the window inside as the light is shining through the pretty stained-glass window. ‘It’s just magical.’

‘Ooh, it is,’ say a few of the others as they file into the room.

‘What’s happening here then?’ asks Wilf. ‘It looks like a kiddies’ party to me.’

‘We’re actually sharing the room,’ I explain once more.

The children’s table is laden with cakes, sandwiches, sausage rolls and all the usual party treats. The cake takes pride of place in the centre of the table, setting off the scene beautifully.

‘Is it a buffet this year then?’ someone says with a frown. ‘I thought we were having a traditional Christmas lunch.’

‘No, our table is this way.’ I guide the group to the other side of the room.

‘Hmm,’ sniffs Elsie. ‘I should hope it isn’t a buffet.’

We’d told the older people about the double booking in the car and thankfully, most of them were fine about it. Wilf, it seems, hadn’t heard what was said, but seems okay about sharing the room. One or two were even excited at the thought of seeing the children, so maybe the day won’t be as bad as I have been envisaging. Perhaps Kian is right. Sometimes, you just have to work with what you have got and make the best of it.

‘Oh gosh, I’m a bag of nerves,’ I say to Sue as Barry is placing large slices of meat onto plates.

‘Why? Everything is just tickety-boo,’ she says, opening the oven door and the rich aroma of roasting potatoes fills my nostrils.

‘These veggies are almost done now,’ says Audrey, poking at veg in pans with a knife.

‘Looks like it’s time for your gravy,’ I tell Mum, who is happy to oblige.

Everyone is quickly served and during the main course, the children start to arrive clutching presents for Bella. My heart melts at the sight of the girls in their pretty party dresses, and smartly dressed boys, with their hair fashionably styled.

‘Well, that was wonderful,’ Eileen says, placing her knife and fork down. ‘You all work so hard.’

‘It’s worth it. It’s such a joy seeing everyone meet up,’ I tell her.

‘Feet up?’ says Wilf. ‘Surely you can’t put your feet up just yet, we haven’t had our pudding yet.’

‘Lauren was saying it’s nice to MEET UP,’ says Eileen, almost shouting down his ear and rolling her eyes.

‘Oh aye, it is, yes.’ He chuckles. ‘I can’t argue with that. It’s my favourite day of the year.’

His comment brings a lump to my throat and reminds me why I am involved in this every year. Wilf has carers call around since his wife died, and a daughter who calls on him regularly but is away for Christmas this year, so today is a special day for him.

The meal is going down a treat and Sue has played some vinyls much to the delight of the guests.

‘I’ll get you up for a dance in a minute.’ Gerald winks at Eileen. Gerald is dressed smartly in a suit and blue tie that matches his twinkling eyes.

---