Page 108 of One More Day
‘And guess where he’s bringing me now? We’re going to your house, Rose! I’m so excited to meet you,’ she tells me. ‘Charlie says you’re even prettier in real life and that you’re a brilliant singer.’
My mother laughs at the singing joke a bit more than she should. My father almost chokes on his mince pie.
‘Oops, I forgot to say that Max is coming too,’ Helena says quickly, as if I could ever forget about Max. ‘We’ll be there for around two?’
‘The more the merrier,’ Mum shouts from her armchair, lifting her glass in approval. ‘I can’t wait to meet you all. Love the reindeers, Helena!’
Helena squints and looks closer into the camera lens.
‘There’s no such word as “reindeers”. It’s just reindeer, even though there are two,’ she says, nodding her head so they bobble and swing. ‘Mary told me this morning.’
I burst out laughing then I hear Charlie’s voice in the background. He shouts a hurried ‘see you soon’ and they’re gone for now.
‘Reindeers!’ says my dad as he heads outside to check on the farm animals before our guests arrive. ‘Who says “reindeers”? Even I know that much, holy Moses.’
Mum tries to respond but she isn’t quick enough, so we just roll our eyes. When he’s out of sight, I feel my mother’s gaze on me, as if she’s one more big reveal to make this Christmas.
‘What?’ I ask her cautiously.
‘I have something to tell you,’ she says quickly. ‘I’ve been about to explode but I wanted to savour the moment.’
I shift in my seat.
‘I’m almost afraid to ask you what it is,’ I reply. ‘Is it good news or bad news?’
‘It’s good news,’ she says with a smile. ‘I’m hardly going to deliver bad news on Christmas Day.’
‘All right, all right, never mind savouring the moment. You’ve savoured it! Now tell me!’
She keeps me in suspense for just a little longer.
‘Mum, what is it?’
She licks her painted pink lips then clasps her hands together and leans towards me.
‘I’ve my own surprise visitor on her way to spend Christmas Day with us,’ she tells me, her eyes wide with delight. ‘I know how much you worry about her at this time of year, as she does you.’
‘Mum, you’re kidding me!’
She shakes her head. I can hear my pulse in my ears.
‘Is it – is itEvelyn?’
‘It’s Evelyn, honey,’ she tells me with glee. ‘I think Michael is watching over both of you extra closely this Christmas. Isn’t that such a turnaround after spending so long all alone? I can’t wait to see her.’
I put my hands to my mouth and l momentarily lose my breath.
‘Me too, Mum. Me too!’
Evelyn is joining us for Christmas. I think I need something stronger than tea and a mince pie to let that great news sink in.
Shortly after two on a snowy Christmas afternoon, Mum and Dad sit at either end of the long dinner table. It is, in my sister Sarah’s words, ‘a work of art’, decorated with twigs I gathered from the garden, red apples neatly placed around some cream church candles, bunches of bright green hollywith deep red berries and snowflake-shaped name places made from some recycled Christmas cards.
The candles are flickering, soft festive music plays in the background and the smell of succulent turkey, ham and an array of winter vegetables wafts from their neat arrangement on gleaming white plates.
‘I could never have made up the table like this, not in a million years,’ Sarah coos in admiration. ‘My efforts extend to tacky tinsel and at a stretch, a few tealights. You’ve a real gift, Rose.’
‘Well, you prepared all the food and there’s enough to feed a nation,’ I remind her. ‘The cranberry sauce is outstanding.’
