Page 48 of A Not So Quiet Christmas
“But what about from people you know?” The little boy’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you have any friends?”
I did my best not to smile. “Of course, I do,” I said, trying to reassure him. “But they live in London.”
He looked at me, aghast. “So you’ll be on your own on Christmas Day?”
“I will.”
“But you can’t be. How will you celebrate?” He stared at me like I was weird. “A party of one is not a celebration.” Listening to him, he was beginning to sound like Jules.
“It is for me,” I said. “I like my own company. I get to laze around in my pyjamas and eat what I want when I want. And I can watch telly or read a book without being disturbed.”
He suddenly looked sad. “I bet you’re only saying that.”
“I’m not. Besides, I have Frank to keep me company.”
“But he’s a dog.” The little boy swallowed, as if he was about to cry. “He doesn’t count.”
I felt my heart melt at Seb’s concern. He looked so innocent, standing there willing his tears away. “Honestly, Seb. I’ll be absolutely fine.”
He seemed to think for a moment, before suddenly wiping his eyes and pulling himself together. “Don’t worry, Antonia. I have a plan.”
“A plan?” I asked.
“Yes. Everyone can stop worrying. I’m going to tell Mummy we don’t have to be on our own on Christmas Day because we’re coming here, to spend it with you.”
“Sweetheart, no. Really, that’s not necessary.”
“Well I think it is.”
“Everything all right?” Lizzie asked. Appearing in the doorway, she looked from Seb to me. “Anything I should know about?”
Seb jumped to his feet, ready to outline his proposal. “Mummy, you know how you keep telling me Christmas is a time to give?” He was so determined that his plan was put into action he talked with his hands throughout. “Which is why we put those shoe boxes with crayons and drawing books and toothbrushes together?”
“Yes,” his mum replied, her voice cautious as if wondering what was coming next.
“Well, we need to give to Antonia.”
“It’s very kind of you to think that way, Seb, but…”
“Look,” he said to his mum, before I could finish. He pointed to the Christmas tree. “She has no presents because she doesn’t have any friends.”
“Seb, my friends are in London, remember. That’s where I live.”
“And she’s spending Christmas all on her own,” he carried on, as if I hadn’t spoken. “So we’ll have to come here for the day. So she isn’t sad and lonely. Like you.”
That wasn’t quite the description I would have given myself and going off Lizzie’s shocked expression, she wouldn’t have described herself that way either.
Lizzie stood there, clearly as embarrassed as I was.
“Please, Mummy,” he said. “We have to.” A tear rolled down the little boy’s cheek. “Antonia can’t spend Christmas on her own. That wouldn’t be fair. She just can’t.” He raced over to his mum, threw his arms around her waist and buried his head in her tummy.
As Seb began to sob, Lizzie tried to comfort him. She looked my way, as surprised as me by her son’s outburst. Her expression was desperate, but neither of us knew what to say.
Taking in the little boy’s anguish, I guessed he was the one worried about his dad not being there that year, not Lizzie as he’d claimed, and seeing him so confused and upset was heartbreaking. Not celebrating with both parents had to be difficult to get his young head around. Seb was evidently a sensitive little boy underneath, despite his, at times, confident demeanour, and I felt his pain, as I readily pictured him sat there wearing a sad face on Christmas morning because rather than think of himself, he’d be too busy thinking about his dad, or about me for being on my own. “You’re both more than welcome to spend the day with me,” I said, for my sake as much as Seb’s. “If you want to.”
Seb lifted his head, his face red and distraught. “Really?”
I smiled a gentle smile and nodded.
