Page 86 of One More Day
I’ve a spatula in one hand, a tea towel over my shoulder, the snow is thick on the ground outside and all I need is for Max to rock up this morning, which I’m fairly confident he will very soon. I’m even listening to cheesy Christmas songs which Helena is choosing for me in some very amusing game she has come up with. And after a promise to Rebecca this morning in a very unexpected but welcome phone call from her, I’m doing my best to get into the festive spirit as far as I can now that the big day is very close.
I didn’t tell either Rebecca or Helena about Max, who has been gone around nine hours now. I know my dog and I trust that he will turn up soon, but I can’t deny that I’m beginning to feel a bit worried.
‘Good morning. You look happy. Oh, sorry, you’re on a call.’
Rose puts her hand over her mouth and makes her way back out of the kitchen as soon as she gets in, but I call her back. She’s fully dressed, which is unusual for her at this time, and I feel a pang inside me when I think of her leaving for the day.
‘No, no, come in and pull up a seat,’ I tell her quickly. ‘I’m cooking up a storm here. Do you want some?’
‘Who’s that, Charlie? Is that Rose?’
Rose makes a face and nods towards the phone where Helena’s voice is piping through. I’ve propped it up against a teapot so I can move around freely while I chat.
‘Yes, Helena, it’s Rose. She has just come in for breakfast.’
‘Hi Rose!’
‘Hi Helena,’ says Rose quietly while looking completely perplexed.
‘Next song please, Charlie. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”,’ chirps Helena. ‘It’s my new favourite. And play it a little bit louder so I can hear it better, please.’
I roll my eyes and guide Rose to a seat at the cute little round wooden table which sits by the window in a tiny offset of the kitchen. She seems very taken aback as she fidgets and scrunches up her pretty face.
‘My sister and I are playing Christmas songs and she can be very demanding,’ I whisper into her ear.
She turns her head up towards me from where she is now seated.
‘Your sister?’ she asks, bemused. I nod. ‘Helena is yoursister?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper out of earshot. ‘This is my first time not spending Christmas with her and I feel guilty as hell, so I thought we’d play some music together this morning. You can join us if you want?’
Rose looks flabbergasted. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned Helena before to her, but she seems surprised that I have a family member at all. We have so much still to figure out about each other.
‘Alexa, play “O Holy Night”,’ I call to the device that sits on the worktop. Meanwhile, the sausages sizzle and the bacon spits and crackles in the frying pan.
‘I’m swaying and dancing, Charlie! Are you swaying and dancing?’ I hear from the phone which is set at a volume just above the music.
‘I’m cooking, Helena. Rose will dance with you!’
Rose shakes her head and laughs, as if she is still in some sort of shock at the morning Christmas music party, but I’m not getting off that lightly with Helena.
‘DancewithRose, Charlie,’ she says. ‘Come on. Dance with me, both of you. It’s Christmas!’
I can’t count how many times she has said ‘it’s Christmas’ since she called. It’s sweet, even though it’s very repetitive.
‘Dance with Rose,’ she calls again. My sister is very insistent.
I look at Rose, who looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I put the spatula down. I take her hand.
‘Wait? What? I’m hardly awake,’ she says with a smile. ‘But I do love this song,’
‘It’s Christmas!’ shouts Helena from the phone by the teapot. ‘Dance, Rose!’
‘We’re dancing, Helena,’ I call back to her and when I put my hand on Rose’s waist and cup her hand into mine, she doesn’t pull away like I thought she would. Instead, she moves with me, like we were made to do this together, and I can’t stop smiling.
Remembering how she trusted in me last night, recalling how we sat together by the fire, so cosy, thinking of thewarmth of her body against mine … It’s ignited something inside me and I can’t deny it any more. I want this time to last forever.
‘So, Helena is your sister?’ she whispers, raising an eyebrow as our feet glide around the small kitchen floor. She is smiling too. ‘Helena is yoursister?’
