Page 89 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘So now they’re bound to spend the rest of their lives devoted to helping others, because she actually got pregnant.’
‘It’s not a bad way to spend it,’ Angela says, looking at the television again. An image of a starving baby crying fills the screen, as its mother tries to comfort it.
‘No,’ Estelle says quietly. ‘You’re absolutely right.’ And they both silently watch the television for a few moments together.
‘Poor Tanzy,’ Angela says when the song finishes. ‘She really is so desperate to have a child. She told me all about it one day – how long they’d been trying, and how many they’d lost in the process. To her this is a miracle baby – especially being due so close to Christmas. What harm does dedicating her life to helping others do, if it brings her what she so longs for?’
‘Angela, I don’t often say it, but on this occasion you are totally right.’ Estelle holds out her arms and smiles, and a very surprised Angela stands up, walks over to her and they hug. ‘I’ve taught you well.’ Estelle adds.
Angela rolls her eyes, but hugs Estelle that little bit closer.
‘Now,’ Estelle says, sounding much more like her usual self as she releases Angela from her embrace. ‘We have a lot to do if we’re to give our lovely mothers and their babies a Christmas to remember.’
‘We sure do!’ Angela sings.
‘Now, have you got all the food?’ Estelle asks. ‘Do you need me to go out and get anything?’
‘Don’t be daft. If you’re cooking for as many as I am, you don’t buy all your food on Christmas Eve. There will be nothing left in the shops!’
‘Good, good,’ Estelle says. ‘As long as it’s all under control. I still have a few gifts to wrap for the mothers and their babies. So let’s get to it, then!’
They both head out into the hall, leaving us behind in the sitting room.
Estelle, Angela and Ben all look over towards me, but I’m so stunned by what I’ve just witnessed that I can’t speak.
‘Elle, are your parents called Tanzy and Luke by any chance?’ Ben asks quietly.
I nod.
‘Did you know they knew this house?’ he asks, in the same calm and controlled voice, as if he doesn’t want to shock me.
‘No,’ I say, still trying to comprehend what I’ve just learnt. ‘I had no idea they’d ever been here.’
‘Elle, are you all right?’ Estelle asks gently. ‘You look a little pale. Do you need to sit down?’
I shake my head. ‘Can’t, can I?’ I mutter, still thinking. ‘The chairs aren’t really here … just in our imaginations.’
‘Elle, I know you think your parents didn’t care that much for you,’ Estelle says gently, as she approaches me. ‘But honestly they did. You really were so wanted. So much so that your mother made that promise.’
‘And it sounds like she kept her word too,’ Angela adds. ‘I knew she would. I remember them both so clearly. They were lovely people.’
‘If Tanzy kept the promise Angela and Estelle are talking about,’ Ben says, ‘do you think this might be why you felt like they were always putting others before you?’
‘I … I don’t know,’ I say, staring at him. ‘Maybe.’
‘I know it may have felt sometimes like they cared more about others than you,’ Estelle says, still in the same calm, kind voice. ‘Especially when they were doing their charity work. But both Angela and I know that wasn’t the case. Having you meant everything to them, and they wanted to do anything they could to keep you.’
‘I feel terrible,’ I say, really wanting to sit down, but knowing I can’t. ‘Both my parents dedicated their life to helping others, and I’ve always begrudged them for it, when really I should have been proud of what they did. I just thought they didn’t care about me or my birthdays, when really what they were doing was giving others who had nothing a Christmas to remember.’
‘It’s totally understandable,’ Ben says, coming over and putting his arm around my shoulders. ‘You don’t think like that when you’re a child. You only see and feel things as they are in that moment. You can’t possibly see the bigger picture.’
‘I’m sure they gave you a lot of love and time at Christmas too,’ Estelle says. ‘Perhaps some of your nicer memories have become a little distorted over the years, because you’ve focussed on what hurt and upset you. It’s often easier to remember something painful than it is something nice, because a painful emotion can be so much stronger.’
‘Yes,’ Ben agrees. ‘Remember when you started talking about Christmases with your granny? You remembered that as a happy time.’
‘I guess you might be right,’ I say, looking round at them all. ‘Perhaps I need to speak to my parents a bit more, and do some reminiscing about our past Christmases together.’
‘I think that would be a very good idea indeed,’ Estelle says, putting her hand on my shoulder. As she does, I feel a strange but warm and comforting feeling spread right through me.
