Page 44 of Every Christmas Eve
Lou meets him at the bottom of the stairs and throws her arms around him in a huge embrace, making all the time between them instantly disappear.
‘Hello, my old goose,’ she replies. ‘It’s been far too long.’
‘Our girl,’ he mumbles into her shoulder. ‘That’s our sweet, sweet girl.’
I see Mum bite her lip and bow her head at the sight of their emotional reunion, so she takes Ava back to the kitchen to try out their new approach to festive gingerbread men, while I watch on with glee.
‘How about we make ourselves useful?’ asks Lou. ‘No time like the present to get stuck in.’
Uncle Eric and I both roll our eyes.
‘Some things never change,’ I say to Lou. ‘You have us marching to your tune already.’
‘Well, I’m off to the kitchen, so, to count plates and glasses, is that OK, chief?’ asks Uncle Eric, still licking his lips and clapping his hands.
We laugh as neither of us have appointed a chief, but I have a strong feeling he’s talking to Lou.
‘And Ben and I are going to take on our old job of stringing the fairy lights around the walls in the hallway,’ she tells him. ‘Then we’ll switch them all on and toast this year’s party, just like we always used to.’
Uncle Eric’s fluffy white eyebrows bounce up and down. He sings ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ in a deep baritone as he walks away from us, which makes my heart sing too.
Moments later, I’m standing by a stepladder, handing a string of lights up to Lou.
‘I can reach, don’t worry,’ she tells me. ‘I know exactly where they used to be hung. It’s like time has stood still, it really is. Uncle Eric and I used to do this in record time.’
I can hear laughter coming from the kitchen now that thegingerbread men are back on track, Uncle Eric is clattering his way through the dishes and glasses, and out here it’s just the two of us, like it used to be in the very early days all those years ago, when Lou and I were captains of this ship.
Until I left for university in Paris, that is. Then Uncle Eric and Lou became the dream team around here.
‘Imagine after all this we plugged these lights in and they didn’t work,’ Lou says as she stretches as high as she can to tape them on to the walls. ‘I hope you tested them out this evening like I asked you to, Ben. Your poor father spent far too long at the eleventh hour one year looking for replacement bulbs when someone bought the wrong ones.’
I think she is enjoying being in charge just a little bit too much, but I like it.
‘Ah, I knew I’d forgotten something. Sorry, boss,’ I reply, only to hear her gasp in response. ‘I’m kidding! I haven’t forgotten a thing. I’ll have you know that I’ve been very efficient since I got here.’
‘You could tell me anything,’ she says. ‘But the proof will be in the pudding. We’ll soon find out.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ I say. ‘I’ve dusted more cobwebs than I ever knew existed, I’ve cleaned down chandeliers and I’ve marked the walls with masking tape where they need a touch-up of paint, though that’s Uncle Eric’s next job. He just doesn’t know it yet. And as I’m sure you noticed, I’ve draped the fir trees outside with what felt like a million lights, but we’ve waited for you for the switch-on as usual.’
She isn’t going to let me get away with any bragging though.
‘You’re the best boy, Ben Heaney. The very best boy. Now, does that look OK?’ she asks when she’s fixed the last few inches of lights on to the walls. ‘I’ve tried to keep each loop between as even as I can, but it’s hard to tell from up here.’
I step back into the wide hallway, watching her every move as she examines her work with pride, but the pride I’m feeling is for her. The way she pushes her hair from her eyes, the way she squints when she’s thinking. The way she asks for my approval even though we both know she’ll do it her own way anyhow. The familiarity of every move she makes stirs up old feelings inside of me.
‘It looks … it looks absolutely perfect to me, Lou,’ I tell her. ‘Great job. You’d almost think you’d done this before.’
She shoots me a friendly smile, then dusts off her hands and grips on to the top of the ladder to make her descent.
I instinctively rush to hold it at the bottom as she climbs down, which creates an intimate space between us, one charged with electricity and unspoken yearning.
‘Take your time, I’ve got you,’ I say, doing my best not to stare.
I feel my heart thump in my chest as her hands graze past mine on the way down. She reaches the final step, still within the circle of my arms, which makes every nerve ending in my body tingle.
She is taking her time. I am too. I close my eyes for a second, as the scent of her fills my senses. Her hair, her back, every part of her body is so close to me now. I can barely breathe.
She stops when she reaches the bottom step, but I don’twant to move a muscle. I get the impression that she doesn’t either. I want to savour this brief interaction for all it’s worth, for as long as we can possibly hold it.
