Monday 18th December
At Snowy Pines Christmas Tree Farm: Splashes and wet hankies
‘So we’re here for two trees, in any colour but blue,’ Rory says, as he turns off the main road.
I know getting hauled off to buy Christmas trees isn’t exactly in line with my festive boycott. But when Rory waltzed in shortly after lunch, bringing Poppy to cover at the shop for a couple of hours, they were both insistent. With two of them ganging up on me again, it was easier to come than resist. In a way they were right. After two and a half days solid at the laptop, sorting the twins’ pictures to send off to Jules, I was more than ready for a break. In the end it was hard to let them go, because some of the pictures were so pretty it was hard to believe I’d taken them. But then tomorrow it’s Seth and Katie’s ski wedding, and the whole damned business starts all over again. Three down. I can’t believe there are still two to go.
For some reason known only to Rory, who’s being bizarrely secretive this afternoon, he’s chosen to approach Snowy Pines Christmas Tree Farm by the private back entrance. If it’s a boy-excuse to have fun driving down half a mile of rutted lane, that part’s working a treat. Every time the beer-mobile hits a puddle, the mud sluices high up the windows. And every time it happens Gracie and Teddie, encouraged by Rory, scream like banshees.
In fairness, the kids were pretty hyped up before the tidal splashes started, due to the special sing-along soundtrack Rory’s made them. All their new favourite songs, plus a few of his own. It’s thanks to this gem of a collection we’ve spent the entire journey shouting along to Slade’s Merry Christmas, Karma Chameleon, Let It Go, plus Teddie’s YouTube sweet spot favourites.
As we round yet another bend, and the S Club 7 crew burst into Reach for the Stars, he takes a moment off from steering wheel tapping and grins across at me. ‘Good isn’t it? I’ve put this one on yours too, Berry.’
It would be rude not to ask. ‘What the heck are you on about?’
His grin gets even broader. ‘My girlie playlist, dedicated especially to you, currently under construction.’
A boy’s-eye view of music girls like? I let out a snort. ‘You have way too much time on your hands, Rory. I can’t wait to see what you come up with for that.’ Seeing that we’ve all had to stick our fingers in our ears while Rory insisted on screaming out the high bits in A Thing Called Love along with Justin, from the Darkness, I’m really not hopeful about his choices.
Although, you have to give him some credit. If happy kids were what he was aiming for, he’s nailed it here with Gracie and Teddie. It’s hard to think, sitting in the cosy, baby-wipe-scented fug of the car that a week from now, this will all be over. No more beer-mobile. The kids will be home with Erin. Rory will be in Bristol and then off to his barns. And I’ll be thinking about heading back to my skanky flat and London. For some ridiculous reason, that brings on a strange twang in my chest. I ignore it and instead make myself do a mental cheer, complete with fist waving. Why the hell am I feeling like shit and missing the best bit? No more wedding stress, ever. How great will that be?
As we carry on bumping down the lane, the more excited the squeals from Gracie and Teddie, the faster Rory goes. By the time we jump down from the car in a wide yard that’s completely rammed with every kind and size of Christmas tree you can imagine, the blue waves on the car are completely obliterated by dripping sludge.
As I take Gracie’s hand, I nod at Rory’s mud splattered logo. ‘If you’re hoping for publicity, you might need a hose pipe?’
Rory’s already striding across the concrete. ‘Nope, today’s all about pleasure, not business.’ He’s got Teddie clamped in the crook of his elbow. ‘We’ll get the trees first.’
‘You want two?’ Is that what he said before?
He nods. ‘One for Poppy’s kitchen, one for Home Brew Cottage, because the way Erin’s going, the kids will be here a lot of the week. She’s still not well enough to come home yet.’ He wiggles his eyebrows at Gracie. ‘Gracie and I were hoping you’d help us decorate it later?’
Gracie chimes in. ‘With balls … . and snowmans … and twinkle lights …’
Rory looks at her as seriously as she’s staring up at him. ‘We’ll get twinkle lights from the shop later, okay?’
Gracie’s voice brightens. ‘And soft poop too.’
‘Soft poop?’ If it’s possible to frown and retch at the same time, that’s what I’m doing.
Rory pulls a face. ‘Soft scoop is her euphemism for Häagen Dazs. Keep up, Auntie Hols. Super-appetising, isn’t it? This girl has expensive tastes.’
‘Moving on before I vom,’ I say. ‘That tree pile has to be the most massive in the world, ever.’
Rory shakes his head. ‘It was way bigger before, this is a huge operation. Only a week before Christmas, these are just the leftovers.’ He stares down at Gracie again. ‘We need hats too, don’t we?’
Gracie nods. ‘One for me and one for Hols.’
I’m frowning again. ‘Why?’
Rory takes a deep breath. ‘To keep your earsies warm. Isn’t that what hats do? Unless you’re Marilyn and wearing a fascinator, of course.’ He pauses to shudder. ‘Ten minutes outside at Rose Hill’s one thing. All day at a beach wedding, you’ll be freezing your butt off. A hat’s non-negotiable.’
And then it suddenly hits me. ‘Jeez, you guys are talking! How long has this been going on?’
Rory scrunches up his face. ‘What are you on about? We always talked. But maybe I’m hearing more now.’
A young guy in boots and a Santa hat is coming towards us. ‘Will you be wanting to chop your own tree down, sir?’
Rory pulls a face as he nods down at Teddie. ‘Not this time, thanks. We’re here to pick up the Roaring Waves order, and visit the, er, livestock?’
The guy gives Rory a wink. Great, gotcha. We’ve picked out a six footer and a four footer for you, both noble firs. Like you said, nothing blue, nothing spruce. I’ll get them tied to your roof rack while you’re busy.’ He inclines his head. ‘The livestock in question are over there. In the field behind the shed.’
‘Great.’ As Rory sets off at a run, Gracie and I follow at more of a shuffle. As far as I’m concerned, fields mean mud, and livestock’s what you don’t let your dogs chase. Way less interesting than a shoe cabinet, in other words. I’m guessing from her dragging on my hand that Gracie’s with me on this one.
Rory’s already behind the shed. ‘Hurry up, slow worms, Teddie can see the surprise already, and he’s loving it.’
I look down at Gracie. ‘There’s a surprise?’ Maybe he should have said. ‘Shall we run?’ As she holds her arms up to me, I scoop her into mine. As we hurtle around the corner, I’m completely unprepared for what’s there, nuzzling at the straw on the ground. And why the sight of a mother and baby reindeer standing in the corner of a muddy field, munching on a hay bale, should make me cry, I have no idea. But suddenly there are tears streaming down my cheeks.
I give a huge sniff, swallow hard and hide behind Gracie’s head. ‘Look, Gracie, look, aren’t they lovely and brown and shaggy … and aren’t the antlers mahoosive …?’ If I’m stating the bleeding obvious, it’s not only for Gracie’s benefit. It’s also to distract myself from a sudden urge to fling my arms around Rory and hug him very hard. One hug for this one spectacularly unusual, insightful and awesome act. Not many people would have thought of reindeer, then made them happen. Even if their friend did happen to have a field full.
Gracie blinks and clutches her snowman to her chest as she takes in the dark-brown face and soft eyes of the mother. ‘It’s like Sven …’
I’m thrilled she’s got the resemblance. ‘Yes, it’s a reindeer. I’ve never seen one before either, they’re totally amazing.’ If anything, I’m even more blown away than Gracie. They’re also surprisingly similar to their cartoon counterparts.
Rory’s biting his lip, watching her intently. ‘It’s like Kristoff’s reindeer, isn’t it?’ He’s talking about Kristoff like he’s one of his drinking buddies.
I frown at him. ‘How do you even know about Kristoff?’ Characters from Frozen should be well off Rory’s radar. ‘And what made you think of coming to see them?’
He answers that with a shake of his head. ‘Catch up, HB, everyone at Daisy Hill Farm knows Sven, the reindeer with the heart of a Labrador, belongs to Kristoff.’ He gives a shrug. ‘My mate’s had them here for years. But this is the first time I knew anyone who’d appreciate seeing them as much as you and Gracie. Look, they’re coming to see you, Gracie.’
‘Come on.’ I ease Gracie towards the fence, then as I put out my hand, the reindeer comes and sniffs. Close up its nose is velvety and when it lets me touch its neck, the fur is dense and thick enough to bury my hand in.
‘Sven’s sniffing your fingers, Hols.’ As Gracie turns to Rory, her lips twitch and she lets out a laugh. Then her face breaks into the broadest, smiliest smile as her voice rises to an excited squeak. ‘Look, he’s sniffing Holseses fingers …’
Rory and I are staring at each other, eyes wide, hardly daring to breathe in case the smile disappears as quickly as it came. But it doesn’t. Ten minutes later, her eyes are still shining, even though she’s starting to shiver inside her Frozen anorak.
I’m fumbling in my pocket for my phone. ‘Shall we swap children before we go, then I can take a picture of you and Gracie together?’
Rory smiles. ‘Better still, stay as you are. We’ll do one with all of us. So long as the photographer doesn’t object, and if my arm’s long enough.’ He laughs. As his temple arrives next to mine, he grabs my phone too. ‘Selfie with reindeer. How cool is that?’ As he pulls away and passes my phone back again, he gives me a hard stare. ‘Everything okay? Your hair’s all damp, Berry.’
‘Fine.’ I’m lying again, but it could be worse. Anything that took his mind off my smudgy eyeliner and red nose has to be good. And at least I know the size of his heart now. Huge doesn’t begin to cover it. How the hell did I miss that before?
Another one for the album, then. Although, every time I look at it on the way back home, for some reason it makes me feel like crying all over again.