A Merry Little Christmas

‘Sorry I’m late,’ Cat came in shaking rain out of her umbrella. ‘I got stuck on a long phone call with my editor.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Pippa, ‘I’ve been having an enjoyable time sitting still and watching the world go by for once. So, what’s the score?’

‘Well, I’ve been putting some feelers out, and it’s possible the Beeb may be commissioning a series of programmes about cuts in social services and how they affect real people. And they may be looking at one on families who have special needs children. I’m sure they’d love to hear about you and Lucy.’

‘I don’t want it to be just about me,’ protested Pippa. ‘There are lots of other families affected too.’

‘Yes, but your story is an emotional one,’ argued Cat, ‘and if it helped get your campaign on the map, it would be worth doing.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Pippa reluctantly, not quite sure she could see herself as a TV star in the making. ‘So long as they concentrate on how we’re trying to save the respite services, I don’t see what harm it can do.’

‘You never know, you might even enjoy it,’ said Cat. ‘And I bet Lucy would.’

‘She’d certainly play up to the cameras,’ said Pippa. Lucy was a natural show-off, and Pippa could see her having a ball. ‘Thanks so much for doing this for me, Cat. I’m beginning to feel this isn’t quite such an uphill task.’

‘Have you thought about organising some fundraisers?’ said Cat. ‘When we were in London, some friends of ours used to organise an annual ball, with a charity auction for a local hospice. It made tons of money.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ said Pippa. ‘Perhaps we could do something coming up to Christmas.’

‘You could call it a Snow Ball,’ said Cat. ‘People could have fun while raising money. It’s a win-win situation.’

‘And I do love an opportunity to get glammed up,’ said Pippa, ruefully looking at the battered old Barbour, ragged jumper, jeans and wellies which was her default costume most days. ‘Being a farmer’s wife means you don’t often get the chance to. That’s a great idea, Cat.’

Cat smiled. ‘Pleased to help,’ she said. ‘Where would be a good venue do you think?’

‘We could let you have Hopesay Manor for free, if you like.’ A figure dressed in black leathers who’d been sitting on the other side of the fireplace got up, holding out his hand. Pippa recognised him instantly as the handsome dark stranger who’d offered her advice the last time she’d been in here with Marianne. Suddenly the penny dropped.

‘You must be Michael Nicholas,’ she said. Everyone knew that Ralph’s nephew Michael had come to Hope Christmas to help run the family business while Ralph was away in the Maldives, but Pippa hadn’t met him before.

‘The very same,’ said Michael bowing. ‘I hope you don’t mind me interrupting, but I’m a Trustee of the Sunshine Trust, and I’d be happy to help.’

‘Thank you,’ said Pippa. ‘That’s an amazingly generous offer.’

‘It would be my pleasure,’ said Michael, ‘nice to meet you, ladies. Cat, I hope Noel is getting used to me hanging around. I think my uncle made a very wise choice in hiring him.’

‘He did?’ Cat looked as bemused as Pippa felt. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Now if you two ladies will excuse me, I have business to attend to elsewhere,’ Michael said, bowing slightly again, before placing his crash helmet on his head, and walking out of the door.

They watched him go into the square, climb on his motorbike and roar off into the dull February day.

‘Noel’s kept that quiet,’ said Cat.

‘What?’ said Pippa.

‘How good looking Michael Nicholas is,’ laughed Cat. ‘Just as well we’re both happily married women.’

‘Isn’t it just,’ said Pippa with a grin. ‘Such a shame though …’

Marianne ran up the lane in a panic. She’d promised to get home early so she could help Steven go over a couple of practice papers. His exam was less than a week away, and he was getting very nervous. Damn Mrs bloody Garratt. She always seemed to have something urgent to tell Marianne at five-thirty. Before she’d joined the school, although everyone worked hard, and stayed late if they had to, most people left around five p.m. each day. Now you were seen as a slacker if you left before six p.m. Jean was incredibly generous, but Marianne was conscious that it was a long day for her with the twins, and Gabriel couldn’t always be guaranteed to be home in time to relieve his mum, so it was up to her to get back as soon as she could. Unfortunately, telling Mrs Garratt she had to get home because of childcare issues cut no ice. Despite having a child of her own, who was allegedly at nursery from seven a.m. to seven p.m., she gave no quarter to Marianne, the implication seeming to be, if I can do it, so can you. The phrase, work/life balance was clearly lost on her.

The warmth of the house hit her, as she eventually got in from the cold. And the unwonted exercise had made her a little breathless. She really did need to get out walking a bit more, but what with work, looking after the twins and Steven, there was precious little time for Marianne to get exercising at the moment. It wasn’t as if Gabriel didn’t help out, it was just that farming was even less forgiving than teaching in sucking up all your time. He seemed to have been working harder than ever recently. There were some days when she’d barely seen him.

As she dumped her bags down and took off her coat and scarf in the hall, she realised she could hear raised voices coming from the lounge.

‘Dad, you don’t get it!’ Steven was standing mutinously shouting at Gabriel, who had one baby in his arms, while the other grabbed his legs, giggling. Marianne’s first instinct was to giggle too, he looked so comical, but then she saw the set and angry look on Gabe’s face.

‘I do get it, Steven, but there’s no need to be rude!’ said Gabriel. ‘I know you’ve got your exam next week, but Marianne has got a lot on …’

‘It’s okay,’ interrupted Marianne, ‘I was late back, I’m sorry. I had promised to help,’ she said gently.

‘I don’t want your help!’ said Steven raging. ‘I know you both want me to fail anyway.’ He threw the books he’d been carrying onto the floor, and stormed past Marianne, slamming the door shut behind him, making the whole house quiver.

‘What was all that about?’ said Marianne, extricating Daisy from Gabriel’s legs.

‘Steven was having a meltdown,’ Gabriel replied, running his hands wearily through his hair.

‘Look, he’s probably just stressed about the exam,’ said Marianne. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll get the twins ready for bed, and then I’ll go through the papers with him.’

‘You don’t have to,’ said Gabriel.

‘I do,’ said Marianne, warmly. ‘I promised. It’s not his fault that Misery Guts Garratt delights in making my life a misery.’

Gabriel kissed Marianne on the top of her head. ‘Come on, we’ll sort these two out together,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll tackle Steven.’

At least, she had Gabriel’s support, Marianne thought, even if she felt she was being pulled in too many directions at once.

Chapter Six (#ulink_8cc54614-a44f-52ea-8034-c39bad90c250)

‘So, are you all prepared, Steven?’ said Marianne with a smile, as she prepared his breakfast while attempting to feed the twins their porridge. With one hand she was stirring scrambled eggs, and the other was shoving porridge into whichever baby had their mouth open at the time. She’d never known the meaning of the phrase multi-tasking until she became a mother.

‘How are you feeling?’ said Gabriel, giving his son an encouraging smile, as he put some bread in the toaster. Marianne had spent the last few weeks coaching Steven for his exam, and today was the big day.

‘Okay,’ said Steven. ‘My tummy feels a bit funny.’

‘That’s perfectly normal,’ said Marianne. ‘Everyone feels like that before tests.’

‘And all you can do is your best,’ said Gabriel.

‘What do you care, you don’t even want me to go!’ burst out Steven, before hunkering down at the table to eat his breakfast.

Gabriel opened his mouth as if to say something, but Marianne shushed him. ‘Ignore it, he’s just nervous,’ she whispered.

Marianne and Gabriel had both decided to go along with Steven, leaving the twins with Jean. Gabriel was worried that Eve and Darren would be there too.

‘They’re bound to wind him up, if they come,’ he had said to Marianne as they’d gone to bed last night.

‘Try not to think about it,’ said Marianne, but she knew Gabe was probably right. Eve had ‘wind-up’ hardwired into her system.