Page 38 of One December Morning
Peg wasn’t. She was looking at the bookcase in her living room, feet rooted to the spot, arrested by a book which had just caught her eye.
‘Sorry,’ she said, smiling. ‘Early morning, and I’ve not yet had a cup of tea. I was just thinking about something.’
‘So I see. Come on, I’ll put the kettle on. It will be just like old times.’
Peg had forgotten when both girls still lived at home how often she and Phoebe used to sit in the kitchen, nursing an early morning cuppa. Phoebe always rose so much earlier than her sister.
‘So what’s the story here, Mum?’ she said a few moments later, once they were settled. She leaned into Peg’s side with a teasing grin on her face. ‘With you and Henry, I mean.’
Peg slid her a sideways glance. ‘There is no story with Henry and me, as well you know. You were present, I believe, when I had the exact same conversation with Izzy.’
Phoebe stuck her tongue in her cheek. ‘Yeah, and she didn’t believe you either.’ She took another sip of her tea. ‘You have to admit the way you met was very meet-cute.’
‘It may well have been, if this were a Hollywood movie – but here in the real world, I bumped into Henry at a petrol station.’
‘And then spent two hours with him, sitting in his car, sharing your mince pies.’
‘Yes, but that’s all it was.’
Phoebe leaned into her again. ‘I know. I’m only teasing.’
Peg smiled, squeezing her daughter’s hand. ‘I know you are. Getting your own back for all the times I’ve teased you, no doubt. And I’m not sure how cute it was, but weird it most definitely is. I feel as if I’m on a fast-moving conveyor I can’t seem to jump off. Before his accident, I had literally had a total of two conversations with Henry, three if you count the ten or so words we exchanged after the carol service, so why I’ve ended up in this situation, I don’t know.’
‘I do,’ replied Phoebe. ‘It’s because you’re so kind, perhaps too kind at times. Although, given the position you were in, it’s hard to see how you could have done otherwise.’
‘Blanche is adamant that Henry was on his way to see me when his car went off the road, and perhaps that’s true. It probablyistrue. I can’t see where else he might have been going, and I did…’ Peg rested her elbow on the table and used her hand to prop up her head. ‘I did kind of invite him.’ She peeked sideways at Phoebe. ‘I felt sorry for him. The way he described his Christmas sounded like some vision of hell, and he clearly wasn’t looking forward to it. When the traffic jam suddenly cleared I had to make a quick run for it, back to my car, and I shouted across to him that he should come over. I’m not sure I meant it, or if I did, only in the way that you make an offer to someone because you’re certain the person isn’t going to take you up on it.’
‘And so now you feel guilty and duty-bound to be there for Henry.’
Peg sighed. ‘Something like that.’ She thought back to the look on his face in the hospital. He was tired and in obvious pain, but he was also very confused. Unable to understand, beyond what people had told him, why he was there in the first place. He seemed to have no memory of the accident at all, although perhaps that was no bad thing. Maybe it was just his body’s way of protecting itself, and those memories would return in time.
‘Well, one good thing to come out of this is that now Mim has someone new to talk to. She and Blanche don’t ever stop, do they?’
‘I think Blanche is enjoying feeling useful,’ said Peg. ‘From what I can make out, Sofia treats her as if she’s a ninety-year-old invalid. I’m grateful to her though; she’s been a big help.’
Phoebe nodded. ‘So what’s the plan then? Me and Iz will help out – we’re on holiday, remember. Neither of us has to go back to work until after the weekend.’
‘I know you will, dear. And actually, there is something I need to discuss with both of you. I hadn’t wanted to do it over Christmas, but events have rather forced my hand.’ She paused, wondering whether her daughter would think her absolutely mad. Whichever way Peg thought about it, her decision seemed the most obvious solution to the problem, but that still didn’t take away the feeling that she’d been boxed into a corner. ‘Perhaps I’d better wait until Izzy’s up – I really ought to talk to you both together.’
Phoebe tipped her head. ‘This sounds serious, Mum.’
Peg was torn. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity, but Izzy had always liked her sleep and…‘Do you think she’ll mind if we wake her?’
‘Given the amount of Baileys she drank last night, she’s going to have a sore head. She might as well deal with it sooner rather than later.’
‘Oi…I had two glasses,’ replied Izzy indignantly as she came into the room. ‘My head is perfectly fine, thank you.’ She scratched her nose. ‘But I could do with a coffee. Sit down, Mum, I’ll do it,’ she added, seeing Peg about to get to her feet.
She plonked herself down opposite Phoebe while she waited for the kettle to boil. ‘You’ve got that look on your face,’ she remarked to her sister. ‘Like you’re up to something. What have I missed?’
‘Well, I’ve been trying to get the lowdown on Henry,’ replied Phoebe. ‘But nothing doing, I’m afraid.’ She grinned at her sister, shrugging. ‘I tried…’
Peg shook her head in amusement. ‘Honestly, you two…But listen, being serious for a minute, I need to speak to you. Get your coffee first though, Iz. Shall I get us something to go with it? Christmas cake? Mince pie?’
Phoebe groaned. ‘Are there any of those chocolate biscuits left?’ she asked. ‘I don’t think I can face another mince pie.’
‘I should probably make a proper breakfast,’ said Peg, fetching the biscuits from the pantry.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mother, it’s Christmas.’
