Page 46 of The Village Christmas Party

‘I’m not sure,’ says Kian. ‘What do you think?’ He turns to me.

‘Don’t put this on me. Oh nooo,’ I say, thinking I don’t want to be the one responsible for the broken bones of the older partygoers. ‘Maybe pass the parcel is a safer bet. You do have some prizes, I take it?’

Kian slaps his forehead with his hand. ‘The parcels! I’ve left them at home on the kitchen table where I was wrapping them last night.’ He glances at his watch. ‘I can be there and back in ten minutes if you can hold the fort?’

‘You want me to look after the kids on my own?’ I say, although at that very moment Audrey is striding towards me.

TWENTY-FIVE

‘I’ll watch them with you,’ Audrey says, having caught the end of the conversation about the parcels. ‘I’ve just poured everyone a drink, and quite a few have said yes to some more of your red velvet cake,’ she informs me. ‘Who knew old people could eat so much?’

‘I’m so happy everyone is enjoying themselves,’ I tell her.

‘Thank you so much, I shan’t be long,’ says Kian to us both, already heading for the door.

‘My mum is really enjoying herself too,’ says Audrey. ‘Thank you so much for finding a place for her today and picking her up. I think she has found a new friend.’

I glance over at Audrey’s mum, who is deep in conversation with Eileen, who has taken a break from her dancing. They are about a similar age and I really hope there is the possibility that they might become good friends.

Even though there are enough volunteers, I hope Kian doesn’t hit too many red traffic lights. I walk over to the children’s party table then and make a suggestion.

‘Before you go outside again on the bouncy castle, would you like to dance with some of the old people?’ I ask the children.

‘Old people don’t like our music,’ says the boy with the mop of black hair as he licks frosting from a cupcake off his fingers.

‘They do.’ Bella frowns. ‘My nanna likes Rihanna and she went to a concert with my mum to watch Harry Styles.’

‘My mum fancies him,’ says another child, grinning.

‘Do you think they know the dance to “Gangnam Style”?’ asks a little girl in a red dress. ‘My grandad dances to that when he’s drunk and makes us all laugh.’

‘I’m not sure about that,’ I say, although I suddenly have an idea.

‘Bloody hell, I need a drink, I’m knackered,’ says Sue, before unscrewing the top of a bottle of lemonade and pouring herself a long drink after her vigorous dancing.

‘You’re a very good dancer,’ Mum tells Sue as she begins clearing the table, and placing debris from crackers into a bin bag whilst I collect up some plates. Audrey is already in the kitchen stacking up the dishwasher.

‘Runner up in regional dance competition in nineteen seventy-six,’ says Sue proudly. ‘I fell off the back of a motorbike the following year, so that put paid to that. My leg wasn’t right for ages.’

‘I used to like a dance when I was younger,’ Mum says with a wry smile. ‘Although more disco dancing. Me and a friend had a job in a nightclub dancing in a cage. It’s where I met Lauren’s dad.’

‘You really are full of surprises,’ says Sue.

‘I used to be,’ says Mum. ‘I was the one who was always up for adventure as a teenager. I think I surprised people the most when I settled down and got married at the age of twenty-three.’

I wonder for a second if I was actually planned, or if I was responsible for putting paid to Mum’s adventures. She sounds like her life was full of fun before I came along. Then again, I wasn’t born until many years into their marriage, my parentstaking for granted the fact that they wouldn’t have a problem having children. And the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong either. Eventually, they fostered a young child for a few months, and lo and behold six months later Mum was pregnant with me.

‘Okay, everyone, I was just wondering if any of you would like to have a game of musical statues?’

‘Musical statues.’ Elsie frowns. ‘Are you joking?’

‘With the children,’ I add, in case they think it a strange thing to suggest. ‘And you never know, you might enjoy it.’

‘Musical statues!’ say the children, jumping up and down with excitement.

‘That’s boring,’ says the black-haired boy.

‘I’m sure it is what you make it.’ I paint on my brightest smile.

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