Page 99 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘All this happened because of my family,’ Angela says. ‘Not you, Elle. If I hadn’t been forced to give up Sarah when she was a baby, she’d have had a stable home and a mother … ’
‘But if that had happened then Sarah might not have had Ben?’ I say, trying to take Estelle’s lead. ‘I guess sometimes things are supposed to happen the way they do. Even if it doesn’t seem like the best thing at the time.’
‘Wise words, Elle,’ Estelle says approvingly. ‘Very wise.’
‘Perhaps,’ Angela admits, still looking absolutely stricken at everything we’ve just witnessed. ‘Addiction seems to be in my family’s genes, though. I was an alcoholic, and my father was addicted to gambling. It was no wonder Sarah became addicted to drugs.’
‘Doesn’t look good for me, does it?’ Ben tries to sound upbeat, but his face tells a different story. ‘I’m clearly destined to become an addict of some kind. Best run now, Elle, while you still can.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I say, taking his hand.
‘Do either of you know if Sarah survived?’ Ben asks hopefully. ‘I know she said to Fred she was HIV positive, but … ’
‘We don’t think so,’ Estelle says sadly, walking over to comfort Angela who now looks completely heartbroken. ‘Back then it was rare to survive if you tested positive for HIV. Now they have drugs that can successfully treat the virus, but in the eighties, as you probably know, things were different.’
Ben nods sadly.
‘I so wish I’d known all this before … ’ Angela says, suddenly looking at Ben. ‘Maybe I could have helped her, at least made things more comfortable for her in her last days. I can’t bear the thought of her suffering in some dreadful squat. But they only tell you after … ’
‘Perhaps she got some help?’ I suggest optimistically. ‘She may have been admitted to a hospice. They’re very good at end-of-life care, aren’t they?’
‘We can but hope,’ Estelle says pragmatically, her arm around Angela’s shoulders now.
‘What did you mean when you said they only tell you after?’ Ben asks Angela.
‘Nothing,’ Angela says, glancing at Estelle. ‘I’m just a little upset that’s all, seeing that again. Bless Fred, he tried his hardest. He was a good boy – he ended up working here with us for a while didn’t he, Estelle?’
Estelle nods.
‘Wait, is that why my middle name is Frederick?’ Ben asks suddenly. ‘After him?’
‘Yes, it is. Fred not only provided you with your first name, but your middle name too. He’s the CEO of a large children’s charity now.’
‘So Fred’s experience here influenced what he ended up doing too,’ I say. ‘Like so many of the people we’ve met in your stories, Estelle. This house really influences the path people take in life. There so often seems to be something positive that comes from the sadness.’
‘I’m so glad you understand that, Elle,’ Estelle says, looking proudly at me. ‘It’s an important lesson for us all.’ She looks fondly up at the house behind Ben and me. ‘I’m extremely sorry to say that my stories are complete now, and my work here is done.’ She looks at Angela, who nods her agreement. ‘It’s been so very special to have one last Christmas in Mistletoe Square, but now it’s time for us to go back.’
‘I think we’ve all done quite enough going back for one night,’ I say lightly as I begin to climb the steps to Christmas House with Ben beside me. ‘I think this Christmas Eve, it’s time for nothing more than a nice mug of hot chocolate by the fire.’
‘That’s a very good idea,’ Ben says, squeezing my hand. ‘We’ve all got a lot to talk about and discuss. You two coming?’ He turns back to Estelle and Angela still standing on the opposite pavement.
‘Of course,’ Estelle says as they both stand watching us. ‘We’re right behind the both of you … and we always will be.’
I open up the door to Christmas House and Ben and I step inside.
‘That was quite a night,’ I say as the warmth and familiar surroundings of the 2018 house greet us once more. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on, shall I, Angela? Then we can all get cosy again in front of the fire.’ I turn around to see only Ben standing in the empty hall with the door ajar behind him. ‘Where’s Angela? And Estelle? Didn’t they follow us up yet?’
‘I thought they were right behind us,’ Ben says, turning round too. ‘Maybe Estelle is struggling with the steps now we’re back in 2018 again?’
‘You noticed that too, did you?’ I walk back towards the door with him. ‘Estelle always seems much more agile when she’s telling her stories.’
Ben pulls the door fully open again, but there’s no sign of either Estelle or Angela on the steps.
‘That’s odd,’ he says, stepping outside. He looks all around the square. ‘I can’t see them anywhere.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, following him out onto the top step. ‘How can they not be here?’
But Ben is right – there’s no sign of either of them.
