Page 92 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘Are you Ange, by any chance?’ the cabbie asks.
‘Yes, yes, I am.’
‘Good. That lad back there,’ he says, glancing in his rear-view mirror, ‘nearly got himself killed – stepping out in front of me like that to make me stop!’
‘We need you to go to Great Ormond Street – it’s an emergency,’ Angela says quickly. ‘Give me a minute and I’ll get your passengers.’
Angela dashes past us back up the steps, and then she re-emerges with Estelle, carrying a baby swaddled in a blanket, and a young, bohemian-looking couple.
I stare at them. It’s my parents – there’s no doubt about it. They look so familiar, yet so very different too. My heart races inside my chest, and yet at the same time I also feel quite numb. I think for one awful moment I might faint, but, as my father helps my mother down the steps, I find myself automatically following them.
‘Are they your parents?’ I hear Ben ask as I descend quickly down the steps.
But I can’t speak, only watch.
My mother looks so young. Her hair that I can only ever remember neat and short, is dyed a bright shade of auburn and cascades wildly down her back. She’s wearing a long, baggy, white T-shirt, with a long black cardigan, and loose khaki trousers. Multicoloured beads and bracelets adorn her wrists. And even though it’s December, on her feet are a pair of flip-flops.
She looks very young, but also drawn and quite pale.
My father is helping my mother down the steps. He also has more hair than I’ve ever seen him with, but it’s on top of his head this time. His black hair is full and bouncy, instead of grey and thinning, and he’s wearing black jeans, a thick woollen jumper, and heavy, black, lace-up boots – and is that an earring I can see in his ear lobe? Oh, my goodness, it is!
I reach out to touch him as he passes, but my hand floats right through him.
He shivers a little, before climbing into the taxi next to my mother.
‘Please come with us?’ my mother asks as Estelle passes her the baby – who I can’t quite get my head around is actually me – now she’s settled in the back seat of the cab. ‘Both of you. I don’t trust them at the hospital. I know if you’re both there it will all be all right.’
Estelle looks at Angela and nods.
‘I’ll go with them now. You lock up the house and bring my bag and some things for Tanzy. She’ll be there overnight.’
‘Got it!’ Angela says. ‘I’ll see you there in a few minutes.’ She closes the door and the cabbie speedily pulls away. ‘Right,’ she says turning to Fred who’s been standing on the pavement watching all this take place. ‘I don’t approve of how you got that cab, Fred, but the main thing is you did. Well done.’
Fred grins proudly. ‘Will they be all right?’ he asks, his expression changing to concern. ‘That baby looked a bit blue … ’
‘I hope so,’ Angela says, looking down the street after the cab, which has now disappeared from Mistletoe Square. ‘You heard Estelle, though, I’ve got to go to the hospital with the others.’ Angela glances up at the two houses. ‘So I’m leaving you in charge tonight – all right?’
Fred looks surprised.
‘It’s Christmas Eve, Fred. Someone has to fill everyone’s stocking and put the presents under the tree. I might not be back in time.’
Fred salutes. ‘I can do it! Santa Fred is on the case.’
Angela looks a bit worried, but nods. ‘Good. Everything is upstairs in the back bedroom. It’s all labelled so you can’t go wrong, okay?’
‘Got it. Back bedroom. All labelled.’
‘Good chap! I’ll see you later tonight or possibly tomorrow morning. But I’ll be back to cook the Christmas dinner whatever.’
Fred nods and Angela dashes back up the steps into the house. Fred proudly does the same next door. As both doors close, we’re left outside.
‘Are you all right, Elle?’ Estelle asks as I climb back up the steps next to them.
I nod. ‘I still can’t believe that was me, though. I’m sorry I tried to touch my dad. I couldn’t help myself.’
‘Perfectly understandable given the circumstances,’ Estelle says. ‘Elle, I know it’s incredibly strange seeing yourself like that, but it really was you. You were born here in this house on Christmas Eve 1984, and, as you’ve just witnessed, shortly after you were rushed to Great Ormond Street, where they looked after you until you could breathe properly again.’
‘Yes, I understand all that, but why didn’t I know this? Why didn’t you say when I first came here for the job if you knew it was me?Didyou know it was me, or is this just a big coincidence?’
