Escape for Christmas

Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

It never ceased to amaze Brody how popular a parade of people carrying lanterns on sticks was, even in an age of hyperreal computer games, blockbuster movies and AI.

In the past ten minutes more and more people had crowded onto the pavements, almost spilling into the roadway. Fortunately, the marshals made sure there was space for the parade to get through.

‘I’d really no idea the event was so huge,’ Sophie said, in between bites

‘Oh yes. It’s one of the biggest days of the year for Bannerdale, if not the biggest. Everyone looks forward to it and I always loved it, growing up. My dad was a fire marshal and Mum used to help at the community hall, with the lantern workshops.’ Brody gave a thought to his mother and her tombola and smiled. She’d run it for years, and the parade had given them both so many happy memories.

‘So you took part when you were young?’ she asked.

‘Of course. I was a kid once, you know.’

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘Actually, that’s easy to imagine.’

‘Some would say I’ve never grown up. Although I was always a bit alternative. While most of the kids made bells, stars and angels, I had to be different. One year I made an owl, and another time I constructed a shark.’

‘A shark? Very festive!’

‘I thought it was cool. At the time.’ At Sophie’s amused smile, Brody grinned. ‘Another time I made a Herdwick sheep and a rabbit. My final creation was an octopus, which took ages. The workshop leader was fuming because it needed so much willow engineering to help it stay up. He thought it was a liability because, in those days, the lanterns had real tea lights in them.’

‘Very impressive,’ Sophie said.

‘See, we’ve got more in common than you think. I was doing my own unconventional Christmas celebrations, before you,’ he joked and she laughed.

Brody noticed a smudge of ketchup at the side of Sophie’s lips from the hot dog. He agonised over whether to mention it, then decided that Sophie was the kind of person who would appreciate honesty. Along with that thought came a large side-order of guilt.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, clearly sensing him staring at her.

Brody parked the troublesome pang at the corner of his mind. ‘Nothing, except you have ketchup on your mouth.’

‘Do I?’ She screwed up her nose in embarrassment and started to rub her lips with her finger. ‘Has it gone?’ she asked.

Resisting the urge to wipe away the remaining trace himself, he said, ‘Almost, just a bit – um, there.’ He pointed his finger as close as he dared to her cheek.

She rubbed the last smear away. ‘Gone now?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, rather disappointed to surrender his excuse to look at her.

Sophie glanced away, perhaps aware that he’d held her gaze a little too long. ‘It’s started,’ she murmured.

Excitement rippled through the crowds, and people turned almost as one to look down the street to where a glow of waving lights was now visible. A shiver of anticipation ran down Brody’s spine, no different to when he was young.

‘They’re coming,’ he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. It was one of his favourite traditions and he’d barely missed any parades, apart from when he’d become a teenager and it wasn’t cool to take part. He’d secretly missed making his lantern and joining the procession with his friends. Even when he’d been away at Edinburgh, studying to be a vet, he’d always come home in time to watch the procession.

Sophie nodded by his side. Her lips were pressed together in uncertainty, and the relaxed fun of the past half-hour had suddenly ebbed away. Was this actually quite an ordeal for her and she was trying to hide how she really felt about being plunged into the thick of the festivities?

Suddenly a hush descended on the crowd as the first of the children walked by, carrying home-made lanterns attached to poles. It brought a lump to Brody’s throat to watch the families bearing the lanterns they’d worked so hard to make through the streets of the village. Seeing them reminded him of the special memories he’d shared with his own dad over the years here. Since losing him, the parade had taken on a new poignancy, and this time of year always made you think more about those who were no longer here.

Sophie turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘I’d no idea it was this touching.’

He must have a piece of grit in his own eye … He must find his mum for a word, if he could. She’d be bound to have her own memories, even if she’d keep them to herself.

‘Oh, look, that’s Vee’s two! They look so cute.’

The two children, a boy of four and a girl of six, carried lanterns in the shape of a star and a bell. Their mother, whom Brody recognised but didn’t know well, was beside them, keeping an eye on them. A few of the tinier children were being carried on parents’ shoulders or were holding hands with an older sibling.

But sweet as the children were, Brody couldn’t help stealing a look at Sophie. Her smile had melted away, her lips were pressed together and her eyes were glistening.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

‘Yes. Yes, I just …’ She hesitated. ‘Seeing all the children – I’m being silly.’

‘No, you’re not. It makes me emotional, and always brings up memories of being here with my dad and makes me miss him.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. It’s a difficult time of year for so many, isn’t it, and you can’t help but think how things have changed? But it’s so nice to see everyone. It’s just the kids – they’re all so wide-eyed and innocent. It’s great to see them enjoying Christmas with such pure pleasure. It must be wonderful to help the children make the lanterns, and to join the parade with them.’

Brody had sensed there was a wistfulness about Sophie, a sadness hidden under a mask of practical cheerfulness, which she’d probably hidden for a long time. He’d worn that mask himself, after his father had died and he was trying to fit in at university as a student. Even while he’d been drinking and laughing, he was still grieving the loss of his dad.

People wore masks all the time, for different reasons. He hoped he hadn’t put Sophie in a difficult position by inviting her along, as he didn’t want to upset her. Should he even have suggested that she come with him?

‘Do you want me to take you home?’ he asked as the last of the children went by, their lanterns swinging in the darkness. People were starting to disperse.

‘No. No, I’m fine ,’ she insisted, her defences back in place. ‘And I’m glad I didn’t miss it. Thank you for bringing me along.’

Brody heaved a silent sigh of relief, even if he knew Sophie was putting on a front. He didn’t want her to leave yet. ‘I’m pleased you decided to give it a try, even if you had to lose a wheel in the process.’

‘Honestly, I did almost stay in with Sir Hiss,’ she said.

‘Tough call: me or Sir Hiss,’ he replied. Before he could say anything else, Brody heard his name being shouted and spotted his friends. ‘Er, I think I can see some of the practice team over there.’ He spoke more gruffly than he’d intended.

‘Oh, I—’

‘D’you still fancy a quick drink before we go home?’ he asked. ‘You probably know a couple of them already. There’s Rudolph, aka Cora, and some of the vet nurses. Carl’s on marshalling duty, but he might join us later.’

‘I’d like to …’ she began, but they were interrupted by Vee bounding up.

‘Sophie!’ Vee tapped her on the shoulder. ‘You’re the last person I expected to see here!’

‘I didn’t plan to be,’ Sophie said hastily. ‘The wheel on the truck’s damaged, and I was stuck at the laundry. Brody was passing and gave me a lift.’

‘That was lucky then. He’s like me – Christmas-obsessed – so I can see how he charmed you into coming.’

‘I wouldn’t say “obsessed”,’ Brody began, trying to sound amused.

‘You’ve never missed a parade,’ Vee said. ‘Kev told me you used to come home for it from uni, when everyone else stayed there partying and drinking, like normal students.’

‘Dad died only a couple of months after I’d finished my A-levels, so I thought I should come home for the parade at Christmas, to keep Mum company,’ Brody replied.

‘And that was a really lovely thing to do. I was only joking,’ Vee said kindly. ‘Look, we’re going to the Bannerdale Bakery Café, if you both want to drop by later. They’re open late for hot chocolates and reindeer cookies.’

‘I hope there’s no reindeer in them,’ Brody said.

Vee and Sophie burst out laughing before Sophie said, ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m meeting Carl and some mates at the pub,’ Brody replied.

‘Lucky you. It’s strictly soft stuff for us this evening,’ Vee said, walking off with an eye-roll, trying to explain to the kids that hot punch didn’t have anything to do with bashing people.

‘Kids, eh?’ Brody said. ‘I’m joking. It’s great to see them enjoying the parade.’

‘Yeah. They’re a handful, but Vee and Kev are so good with them. They’re marvellous parents.’

‘I can see that. I always wonder how people manage working full-time and bringing up a family,’ Brody said.

‘You find a way, I suppose. It’s one reason Vee and I clicked. She stays longer than she has to, if I need extra help, and I’m more than happy to fit in with her childcare. I still haven’t forgotten the time the village school closed because of floods and her kids came up to Sunnyside and “helped”, which meant they tried to dust the cats.’

Brody roared. ‘Ouch! Sounds like fun,’ he said, imagining the scene and enjoying how the memory had infused Sophie’s expression with happiness. It was as if her own lantern had been kindled. And he realised, by the high that he was riding, so had his.

‘They ran off and didn’t come back until kibble time, but we had a great day.’

‘I bet. I must admit that when young pet owners come into the surgery, it can be an extra-special challenge. It’s rewarding to see the kids learning about their pets and caring for them, but it can be heartbreaking too when the animals get ill.’

‘I’d never thought of that.’

‘It’s part of the job,’ he said, recalling his experience earlier that afternoon. He wouldn’t mention that now. It would burst the bubble they’d created: a glorious, yet fragile orb of connection. But he had to get one thing straight while he had the chance.

‘You know what Vee said just now,’ he said. ‘I’m not actually Christmas-obsessed. I can see why people – many people – might want to forget about it. Families, life, relationships … are complicated, and I’ve sometimes thought of skipping the whole thing myself, so I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable by bringing you along this evening.’

Sophie frowned.

‘Brody, firstly, you didn’t force me. I didn’t have to get in your car. I didn’t have to leave the surgery. I could have stayed with Sir Hiss. I could have found Vee and hung out with her. I chose to come out here with you and I really enjoyed myself. I have loved … seeing how much joy Christmas brings to everyone here. And don’t feel bad about liking Christmas,’ she said. ‘I used to love it myself. Once.’

Once? The word seemed to hang in the air between them, like the key to unlocking a door that Sophie had closed on her previous life.

‘Brody! You made it. I’d given up on you, frankly. You’re so disorganised,’ Cora suddenly shouted.

‘Thank you,’ Brody replied, not feeling grateful towards his practice manager, who had borne down on him with half a dozen more of his colleagues.

‘You had us worried for a moment,’ one of the animal assistants declared. ‘Thought it would be the first time you missed it.’

‘No way,’ Brody said firmly.

‘More importantly, how did the foal birth go?’ Cora asked solemnly.

‘Mum and foal were both doing well when I left.’

Having dealt with her boss, Cora lasered in on Sophie. ‘Oh, hello – Sophie Cranford, isn’t it?’

‘Yes …’ Sophie replied. ‘Cora, isn’t it?’

Cora’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. ‘You know my name?’

‘Of course,’ Sophie said pleasantly.

Brody became a bystander now that Cora was in full swing.

‘Don’t you run the anti-Christmas hotel? Shouldn’t have thought this was your thing.’

‘It’s not anti-Christmas. I’m just offering an alternative festive celebration, catering for people who want something different.’

‘You’re Jingle and Belle’s mum, aren’t you?’ one of the vet nurses put in, with a smile. Brody silently thanked her for rescuing Sophie from Cora’s blunt attentions. ‘They’re such gorgeous cats. I love their fluffy little faces.’

Another nurse jumped in, and Brody was silently grateful they’d changed the subject.

‘Thanks. They have their moments, but I love them too,’ Sophie replied.

‘Why are your cats named after a Christmas song?’ Cora began, but Brody leapt in.

‘Shall we go to the pub?’ he suggested, to enthusiastic mumblings of agreement. ‘I’ll be with you in a second,’ he went on, waiting for Cora and the others to head across the road to the pub. ‘I’m sorry Cora gave you the third degree,’ Brody said to Sophie. ‘She’s a very efficient practice manager, but she can be spiky.’

‘It’s fine. I can stick up for myself, Brody,’ Sophie insisted, although now a silence stretched between them. ‘Um, it’s really kind of you to invite me to the pub, but I think I can see Vee over there with the kids. She really wanted me to come and, now that I have, I feel I ought to spend some time with her and the family.’

Brody’s festive spirit went down the drain. He’d been so looking forward to spending more time with her.

‘OK,’ he said, with a smile that he hoped treaded a fine line between disappointment and polite acquiescence. ‘The offer of a lift still stands, though. As I’m heading in your direction.

She nodded. ‘Thanks, and I might still need one, even if Vee offers. Felltop is a bit out of her way, but she might relish the chance to get out of bath and bedtime for once.’

‘Oh. OK, you’ve got my mobile number?’ he offered.

‘Actually I don’t have your number. Just the surgery one,’ Sophie realised. Normally they’d bumped into each other on walks or near their respective houses.

‘Right. OK. Of course.’ Until this evening, Brody realised, they’d only been neighbours. Tonight they were friends …

A few moments later they’d exchanged numbers and Sophie was making her way over to Vee and her family. Brody watched them embrace, before he trudged up the steps into the pub. It was then that he remembered Sophie still hadn’t said whether or not she’d be coming to the party. And, his conscience whispered, perhaps he shouldn’t want her to.