A Merry Little Christmas

Chapter 32

Merry

Merry stepped into her father’s room at Springwood House and shivered as memories of her last moments with him flooded back. The air smelled of disinfectant, which was better than the musty stale aroma there’d been the last time she was here, but it felt as if her dad’s physical presence had already been scrubbed out. ‘I don’t like this.’

‘Me neither,’ Emily whispered. ‘There’s such a sad aura in here.’

Gail had requested that they empty Ray’s room as soon as possible.

‘I’m sorry and I know it seems mercenary to ask,’ she’d said. ‘But space here is at a premium, and we have a waiting list of people desperate for help with their loved ones.’

The sisters understood how those families must be feeling, which was why, two days after Ray’s funeral, they were packing up his personal belongings. Will and Cole would be coming along later to load up Cole’s van.

‘Let’s cheer it up.’ Merry turned on the twinkly lights on the small Christmas tree she’d bought him, and the ones wrapped around the headboard of the bed, now stripped and bare of any trace of her father. She cracked open a window to let in some wintry fresh air while Emily tuned the radio into Smooth FM. Elton John soon had them singing along with ‘Step In to Christmas’ and once Emily had made them a hot mint tea, they felt a bit brighter.

‘Donate to charity, throw away, keep,’ said Emily, pointing at the three cardboard boxes she’d put on Ray’s bed.

‘Great,’ said Merry, tying her hair up off her face with a scrunchie. ‘Where shall I start?’

‘There.’ Emily pointed to the armchair. ‘With your feet up, sipping tea. I’ll hold things up and you can decide what we do with them.’

Merry hesitated. Ray was a man who hadn’t owned much, but there was still plenty to deal with. Her default position was always to argue, and prove herself fit and capable of doing anything, but today she was happy to capitulate. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

‘That was easy.’ Emily raised a surprised eyebrow. ‘You OK?’

She sank wearily into the chair. ‘Still tired after the funeral.’

Her sister opened Ray’s underwear drawer and tipped the contents into the box marked ‘throw away’. No need to debate that one. ‘I know what you mean. Will said I was asleep before my head hit the pillow after the wake.’

‘It’s stress,’ said Merry, trying to get comfy, which wasn’t at all easy now. The baby was pressing at the underside of her ribs, forcing her to take short sharp breaths. ‘It tires you out. I don’t think I’ll ever not be tired again and that’s before I’ve got to deal with night feeds.’

‘What’s worrying you the most?’ Emily buried her nose in one of their dad’s jumpers before folding it into the charity box.

Where to start , thought Merry, stifling a yawn. ‘The shop being understaffed worries me. Not being installed in Meadow View for Christmas makes me stressed. Having to go to hospital for tests and check-ups twice a week is stressful. Living each minute worried about …’ She stopped mid-sentence. About being a useless mother, she’d been about to say. And she didn’t want to say that out loud. She had to start believing in herself or this would become a self-perpetuating belief.

‘About?’ Emily prompted. She inspected the soles of Ray’s shoes and, after discovering they had holes in, threw them away.

‘Um … giving birth,’ Merry said, hurriedly. No one could blame her for that.

Her sister gave her a thoughtful look ‘You know what you need to do? Find a way to relax.’

‘Relax?’ Merry scoffed. ‘I haven’t relaxed since—’

‘Frankie went to Hollywood,’ Emily finished for her with a giggle. ‘That always reminds me of Dad, he used to say that!’

Merry shook her head in amazement. ‘I remember! Gosh, I remember it so clearly!’

The thought warmed her; that there might be latent memories of him still to be unearthed, things which might suddenly crop up and take her by surprise.

‘Oh gosh,’ Emily gasped, turning up the radio. ‘I heard this song the other day. It’s called “Dance with My Father”, by Luther Vandross. Listen to the lyrics, it’s about remembering the happy times he spent with his dad, especially how he and his mum would dance together. It’s so beautiful and perfect for today.’

Even before the first chorus, Merry was in tears. ‘The first time I met Dad here we all danced together – you, me and him.’

‘There were so many things he couldn’t remember, but he knew every word of the lyrics. That was such a special night.’

‘One of the best days of my life,’ said Emily.

Merry opened her arms. ‘Come here.’

Emily knelt and laid her head on Merry’s knee. Together the sisters listened to the rest of the song. It was a celebration of love between a child and father, and between mother and father too. The message was that when you lost someone you love, you’d give anything to share one more happy moment with them.

‘He loved music,’ Emily recalled. ‘The one thing he wanted to bring with him, when he moved in here, was his vinyl collection. Used to carry an album around with him sometimes.’

‘You must keep his records,’ Merry said. ‘He’d like that.’

There was a box of them at the bottom of his wardrobe. One of the things she and her dad had done together on her visits to Springwood House was to choose an album and take it downstairs to play on the record player in the lounge. Sometimes he’d simply sit and listen, at other times he’d tell her things, memories associated with the band or the song, like the time he’d hitchhiked to London to see the Rolling Stones perform at a pub called the Windsor Castle. She never knew how much of it was made up, but she didn’t mind, she loved hearing his stories regardless.

‘I’d like that,’ said Emily. ‘I can still picture him at Christmas choosing which track to play. People stay the same, don’t they? Even when parts of them start to disappear, intrinsically, the person is still there. He took me to my first music festival when I was sixteen. Glastonbury. Another of the best days of my life.’

‘I’d have loved to have gone to Glastonbury.’ Merry’s arm’s tightened around her sister. ‘I’m glad you got to go.’

Merry couldn’t help comparing her childhood to her sister’s; when she was sixteen, she’d spent as much time as she could babysitting. It hadn’t been just about the money. She relished the chance to be in a real family home for a few hours rather than sit in her room in the children’s home. And she hadn’t had anyone to take her to festivals. But once she was friends with Nell, she’d been scooped up into the Thornbury family and spent a lot of her free time at their house. They weren’t fans of festivals, but she’d had several holidays with them. So many happy times. Two decades of friendship, she thought with a pang, but those days were gone.

Emily chewed her lip. ‘I must sound so thoughtless. I used to resent Dad for the times when he disappeared and just bowed out of my life for months on end. Now I realise I’m still the lucky one. He was our dad, not just mine, and I’m the one with most of the memories.’

‘Which I’m always happy to listen to,’ Merry replied. ‘I mean it, Em. Even listening to your stories teaches me little things about him that I didn’t know.’

‘In that case,’ Emily said with a giggle, ‘let me tell you about that Glastonbury trip. Dad told me he had a fantastic idea, and I should just follow him and go with it. I agreed, obviously. So we fought our way through crowds and over muddy fields until we found the VIP area. Whereupon Dad tried to convince security that he was Robbie Williams’ dad and he’d left his VIP pass in Robbie’s trailer.’

Merry cringed. ‘I’m guessing no one believed him?’

‘The security guard looked at me, hiding behind Dad, and said, “So you’re Robbie’s sister?” At which point I crumbled and muttered no. “God might love a trier,” said the guard, with a face like thunder “at first, I don’t. Off you go.” And so off we went. I was mortified but Dad laughed it off and so I did too, even though we had to walk past a crowd of people sniggering at us.’

‘Dad sounded like fun,’ Merry said wistfully.

‘He was, but he wasn’t perfect. After that, we went to see a band I’d never heard of, and he bumped into an old friend. Somehow, I got separated from them in the crush. Lost each other for most of the day. Mum would have gone barmy if she’d found out.’

‘Sixteen and all on your own,’ Merry marvelled, shaking her head. ‘I would have panicked.’

Emily grinned. ‘I bumped into the most handsome boy, who had a tent all to himself. Had a great time.’

‘OK, in that case I’ll stop feeling sorry for you.’

‘When I said it was one of the best days of my life, I was not referring to getting Nicole Appleton from All Saints’ autograph,’ she said with a smirk. ‘Although that was a highlight. Or watching Dad dance to the Shire Horses, which most certainly wasn’t.’

‘I remember him dancing with my mum.’ Merry scrunched up her brow. ‘And with me.’

‘He danced with my mum and me too. She’d pretend not to want to and bat him away, but I could see she was loving being in his arms,’ said Emily. ‘Is that weird?’

‘That Dad liked to dance with both of our mums?’ Merry asked. ‘No, I’d like to think that he did that because he loved them both.’

Emily sighed. ‘He did. Even though he managed to keep you and Sam a secret for most of his life. I miss him. You don’t realise how many tiny little things you do because you caught the habit from someone else. Like the way he always folded his napkin into a triangle and made a boat out of it.’

‘Yes!’ Merry exclaimed. ‘I found myself doing that at the funeral.’

‘And the way he used to say, “right then” about five times when he was psyching himself up to go to bed.’

‘Or get up from his armchair.’

‘Talking of which,’ said Emily, getting to her feet. ‘I’d better get on with what we came for.’

For the next thirty minutes, Emily packed his belongings into relevant boxes and black sacks and Merry helped her to set aside anything they wanted to keep. And as Mariah Carey sang about what she wanted for Christmas, Merry remembered the Christmas wish she’d made in the garden at Meadow View: to get her best friend back.

Her heart sank, remembering the message that Nell had sent her on the day of the funeral. She’d been so thrilled to see a missed call and a voicemail message from Nell. After the service, they’d gone back to Holly Cottage for refreshments, so it had been a while before she had a spare moment to listen to it. But when she did, the tone of Nell’s message had left her reeling. There had been a lack of empathy and emotion, so different from the Nell she’d always loved. Nell could have been leaving a message for an ex-colleague whom she hadn’t seen for a decade, instead of the woman whose life she had been a part of for over two.

‘What’s up?’ Emily said, noticing Merry had gone quiet.

Merry shrugged. ‘Just Nell. I don’t understand how our friendship can have just evaporated like this. The last voicemail I had from her seems so cold.’

‘Have you still got it?’ Emily asked.

Merry got out her phone and played it for her.

Hi Merry, I’ve just heard that your dad has passed away. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know how important it was to have found him and I imagine you’ll be very sad that he’ll never get to meet the baby. I hope these last couple of weeks haven’t been too stressful for you and that you’re keeping well. Take care, Nell.

‘Keeping well,’ Merry repeated. ‘It’s the sort of thing you’d say to an elderly aunt, not your best friend.’

‘She doesn’t sound herself at all,’ Emily agreed. ‘Do you think she’s OK?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ she sighed. ‘But if either of her parents had died, I wouldn’t have missed the funeral for the world. Nell chose not to be there for me, and she can never undo that now. So that’s that.’

There was a moment’s silence and Emily seemed to understand that Merry didn’t want to talk about Nell.

‘What shall we do with Dad’s ashes?’ she asked.

‘Good question. Did he have a favourite place? We could do it there,’ Merry suggested.

Emily grinned. ‘You might freak out at this, but how about taking him to Glastonbury next year?’

‘Dad’s ashes?’ Merry frowned. ‘I’m not sure …’

‘You just said you’d never been; this would be a once- in-a-lifetime opportunity for us to all go together.’

‘I’m not sure you can use “lifetime” when you’re referring to someone in an urn.’

‘At least he won’t need a ticket,’ Emily sniggered. ‘He’d have loved that.’

‘But what about the baby?’

‘He or she won’t need a ticket either,’ she teased.

‘That wasn’t what I meant.’ Merry gave her a playful shove. ‘I was thinking of changing nappies and making up bottles in a tent, et cetera.’

‘Don’t worry about that, there’ll be enough of us to help with the baby,’ Emily said dismissively. ‘Will and me, you and Cole, and I bet Harley and Freya will want to come too. We can make it a real family occasion.’

That was enough to grab Merry’s interest; anything family oriented, a chance to make new memories and traditions, and she was there. ‘We could sneak up to the VIP area and sprinkle the ashes through the wire fence.’

‘Ray Meadows finally makes it in with the celebs,’ Emily gave a snort. ‘It’s perfect. Bloody perfect.’

‘Knock, knock!’ came a voice from the door, and in walked Cole and Will.

‘We’re going to Glastonbury next year,’ Merry announced, as Cole stooped to press his cold cheek to hers.

‘Are we?’ he retorted. ‘What about the baby?’

‘It won’t need a ticket,’ Merry replied swiftly.

She and Emily fell about laughing and Cole and Will exchanged bemused looks.

‘I’m up for it,’ said Will.

‘Correct answer.’ Emily beamed at him. ‘Because Merry wants you to be in charge of nappy changing.’

‘Happily,’ said Will, whose expression said the exact opposite.

‘He’s a keeper.’ Merry got to her feet and gave him a hug. Her sister had chosen well.

‘How are you getting on?’ Gail had come to check on them.

‘Almost done,’ said Emily, unwinding the lights from the bed frame.

‘Excellent,’ said Gail, ‘Now, in terms of post and whatnot …’

While Gail explained that they’d forward any remaining mail on to her address, out of the corner of her eye, Merry saw Emily pull Cole to one side and whisper something in his ear.

‘Thank you,’ Merry murmured distractedly, trying to listen in on Emily’s conversation.

‘What’s going on?’ she demanded once Gail had left. She stuffed the mail in her handbag.

‘A surprise,’ said Emily, tapping her nose.

‘Cole?’ she demanded. ‘What sort of surprise?’

He scooped his wife into his arms and kissed the place on her neck guaranteed to make her forget everything else but the pleasurable sensations rippling through her.

‘If I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?’ His breath was warm against her ear.

‘Will I like it as much as this?’ She closed her eyes. ‘Because if so, surprise away.’

‘Get a room, you two,’ snorted Emily.

‘I hope so,’ said Cole, answering her question.

There was something in Cole’s tone which made her eyes fly open. She didn’t really like surprises unless she was in charge of them. But it was about time she learned to trust him implicitly. He would only ever have her best interests at heart, wouldn’t he?