Chapter Thirty-Eight

Being down first in the morning meant all was quiet. Lisa padded across the stone floor, welcoming the warmth from the under floor heating. She opened the curtains and inhaled at the sight of the mountains silhouetted against the pink-streaked sky. Small patches of grey cloud were interspersed with smaller cotton-wool tufts illuminated by the sun as it began its climb above the mountain to cast warmth into the valley below. Lisa recalled her mum telling her it was a view you could never tire of – and she could see why; it was constantly changing and yet always stunning. The village at the foot of the mountains looked sleepy, covered in its blanket of snow. Lisa watched as lights were gradually turned on in the houses; their distance from her vantage point making them look like fairy lights. Across the valley, Lisa could see snowploughs grooming the pistes ready for the day ahead. She opened the door onto the balcony and welcomed the cold, crisp air as she stepped outside. It was enlivening. Only the sound of the birds broke the snow-muffled silence.

‘Quite a view, isn’t it?’

Lisa jumped at the sound of Luke’s voice behind her. ‘It’s—’

‘But if you don’t come in and shut that bloody door, I’m locking you out there.’

‘You know you could put some more clothes on.’ Lisa glared at her brother in his low-slung lounge pants. She walked back inside, sliding the door behind her causing a final burst of cold air to surge into the room.

Luke threw a cushion at her. ‘I will before Mum gets up.’

Lisa threw the cushion back. ‘What?’ As Luke turned to pick up the cushion Lisa gasped. ‘You got a tattoo?’

‘Keep it down!’

Lisa squealed. ‘Oh my God, Mum doesn’t know, does she? You wait until she sees that!’ The silhouette of a surfer riding a wave across Luke’s right shoulder blade, the words ‘surf’s up’ below it, was actually quite good. The colours in the wave were sharp and the image well drawn. He had obviously paid for a quality job. But there was no way Lisa was going to say that before she had finished having fun. ‘You know surf is spelt ‘ur’ not ‘ir’, right?’

Luke swung his head as if trying to see his back.

‘Got ya!’

‘I know it’s spelt right!’ Luke protested, attempting to recover from his automatic reaction as he slumped off, leaving Lisa giggling.

By the time Luke returned wearing a sweatshirt, he was carrying a mug of coffee for each of them. The sun had risen higher into the sky, almost breaking over the tallest mountain peak and changing the tapestry of the view once more.

Lisa leaned forward, taking her coffee and thanking Luke. ‘Mum and Dad seem really happy here, don’t they?’

‘Yeah, they do. Mum’s much more relaxed.’

‘Not enough for you to tell her you’ve got a tattoo though,’ Lisa scoffed.

‘Sod off.’

Lisa giggled. ‘It is really lovely though, isn’t it?’

‘My tat?’

‘No, you fool, here,’ Lisa gestured out the window, ‘this place.’

‘Yeah, it’s odd seeing so much snow after months of sun, but it’s all good.’

Lisa sat up and stared out of the window.

Luke paused with his coffee to his lips watching her, intrigued.

‘Do you know what though … it’s funny … there’s all this snow and yet—’

‘What?’

‘Well, at home, if it snowed, what’s the first thing we’d do?’

‘I don’t know … Facebook it … put a picture on Instagram?’

‘After that.’

‘Phone in sick?’

‘After that.’ Lisa glared at Luke urging him to think, as if the answer was obvious.

He looked at her blankly.

‘Build a snowman!’

‘When we were twelve!’ Luke mocked, sitting back and drinking his coffee.

‘OK, point taken.’ Lisa poked her tongue out at him. ‘But, on the way here and looking out now, I’ve not seen a single snowman. That’s weird, isn’t it? There must be plenty of children round here. Do you think it’s a French thing?’

‘I don’t know, maybe it’s more of an in-town rather than on-a-mountain thing, or a “why build a snowman when you can ski, sledge and snowshoe?” kind of thing,’ Luke joked, looking out across the village below, registering the lack of snowmen for the first time.

‘Well, I think it’s a shame; it’s Christmas, there’s snow and not a single snowman in sight,’ Lisa harrumphed back and sipped her coffee.

‘Well, let’s do it. Let’s show them how it’s done.’

Lisa raised her eyebrows. ‘I think Mum would kill us if we messed up her picture perfect garden.’

‘Oh, there’ll be more snow to cover it. Come on, let’s do it.’

‘Luke, it was just a silly observation.’

‘Come on, where’s your sense of adventure? Christ, if I’m willing to wrap up and go for it so you can have your bloody snowman, the least you can do is join in. Come on … it’s Christmas and all that,’ he mocked.

Lisa had stopped listening after the ‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’ He was trying to reel her in, she knew it, but he was using bait she found hard to resist. ‘I do have a sense of adventure.’

‘I know. I remember.’

‘Remember?’ Lisa’s eyes went wide.

‘Yeah, when you used to be fun.’

‘Used to be?’ Lisa leapt off the sofa, putting her coffee mug down more forcefully than she intended. ‘I’ll build a bloody snowman with you,’ she huffed.

Luke laughed.

Lisa marched to her room to find warm clothes suitable for snowman building. Tell me I’ve lost my sense of adventure!

After the two of them had built the biggest snowman they could out of the slightly-too-powdery snow – that perhaps explained the lack of snowmen – created snow angels – or at least Lisa had while Luke threw snow at her – and were midway through a full-on snowball fight, their mum appeared carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. She raised her eyebrows at them, as they each dropped the fistfuls of snow they were holding. They were both nearer thirty than thirteen, but a reproachful look from their mum could reduce them to teenagers.

‘Well, you can take the children out of England …’ was all she said as she deposited the mugs of hot chocolate into their hands, turned and went back inside.

Luke and Lisa looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter.

‘I think it might be warmer out here than inside for a bit,’ Luke shuddered.

Christmas Eve started with an early ski and a soak in the hot tub. Even though she had stuck to the more-picturesque green runs, instead of joining Luke on the blue and black runs, Lisa’s muscles felt sore; she really needed to exercise more regularly. Within five minutes of winding down in the stiff-muscle-relieving water, Lisa felt that lazing in a hot tub surrounded by mountains, snow and clear blue skies took relaxation to a whole new level. Sitting in the steaming water, with snow all around her and being stared at by a snowman, was a wonderful and yet surreal experience – the view contrasted with the heat on her skin to create an exhilarating assault on her senses. A fresh dump of snow had hidden the ‘mess’, as her mum called it, that she and Luke had made of the garden; though even her mum had to admit, now that the snowman was surrounded by fresh snow he added a touch of magic to the perfect Christmas scene. Lisa teased Luke for keeping his black T-shirt on, while he did his best to convince everyone he was warmer that way. It made no sense, but their mum seemed to buy it.

While her mum started work on the magret de canard aux cranberries she had chosen for their evening meal, Lisa decided to phone Felicity. She was missing her and thought how lovely it must be to have four children on Christmas Eve; in a house so full, the excitement must be palpable.

‘Don’t eat raw pastry!’

Lisa looked at her phone. ‘I’m not!’

‘Not you; we are making mince pies for Santa and Fred seems to think it’s OK to eat everything in sight. I told you Santa won’t want them after you’ve nibbled them and then he might not leave any presents. Fred, I can see you putting that pastry in your pocket!’

Lisa laughed. ‘Shall I call back later?’

‘No, now’s fine; hold on.’

Lisa heard Felicity bellow for Pete, followed by her hastily instructing him on the finishing touches to be done to the mince pies before they went in the oven.

‘Right, I’m in the lounge, and the door is shut. I’m here.’

‘Really, I was just saying hello.’

‘No, your timing is great; we were about to egg wash and “stab” the pastry as Alice is insisting on calling it, and that won’t be pretty.’

‘Oh, poor Pete!’

‘Oh, he’ll be fine. Now how’s France?’

Having been on an emotional trip to the crematorium with Felicity – the two of them laying flowers for Flick’s mum and Lisa’s Granny Blake – before she came away, Lisa felt aware that Christmas must be a difficult time of year for Felicity. So while she was honest about how good it was to see her mum, dad and Luke, she quickly moved on to telling Felicity about Luke’s tattoo and her parent’s fantastic place. Adding, as the realisation dawned on her, that it would be ideal for them all to go together for a weekend, perhaps to celebrate their thirtieth birthdays in the coming year, as a bit of that travelling they had spoken about before.

‘That would be bloody marvellous!’ Flick wowed. ‘If I survive Christmas, that is.’

‘A bit full on, is it?’

‘It has been, but I’m just about done now I think; pressies wrapped, mince pies in the oven – hopefully. Pete has to go in to work later, which is a shame, but I’ll get the kids to bed early ready for tomorrow.’

‘You and Pete are sorted though, right?’ Lisa bit her lip as soon as she said it, Felicity didn’t know about the secret Pete was keeping, whatever that was, or that Lisa knew they had been testing out aphrodisiacs.

‘Hold on, Lisa, Pete’s yelling something.’

Lisa could only hear muffled sounds as Felicity covered the phone.

‘Sorry, he was only asking if Fred could eat the leftovers; honestly, it’s raw bloody pastry!’

Lisa had no idea if raw pastry was bad for you, but assumed from Felicity’s tone it wasn’t something you should let your children eat.

‘Right, sorry. Yes. Me and Pete. We haven’t got each other presents.’

Lisa didn’t know whether to be relieved that Felicity had misunderstood her or concerned that she and Pete hadn’t got each other presents. ‘Oh, really?’

‘Yes, we’re putting the money towards something for the house in the sales instead.’

‘Oh!’ Lisa thought how unromantic that sounded.

‘But, der der derrrrrrr … Pete’s been hiding something.’

Lisa felt her stomach twist.

‘I’ve been nagging him to tell me what it is, but he says he has an announcement to make on Boxing Day, when his mother is here! God knows why it’s got to be while she’s here, but, hey, he’s not giving anything else away.’

‘Oh, OK.’ Lisa didn’t know what to say.

‘I’m hoping for fewer hours at the bar – that would make my Christmas. Oh, you don’t think it’s more hours, do you?’

Lisa really hoped for Flick’s sake, that Pete’s announcement would be something so innocent.

With her phone call on her mind, Lisa went to find a glass of wine. She found her mum in the kitchen, poured them both a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and made herself comfortable on a stool at the breakfast bar. Watching her mum cook reminded her of being young. She thought about Felicity cooking with her children and about her own little Pip. This would have been her baby’s first Christmas. It was hard to assimilate her feelings about the loss of her baby with the realisation she now had about the reality of her relationship with Ben. She rubbed her forehead.

Lisa’s mum picked up her wine and took a breath. ‘So, when is it you are going to tell me why you’re here?’

Lisa looked at her mum. ‘To see you, Dad and Luke. It’s Christmas.’

‘And that’s lovely, Lord knows it’s been too long, but—’

‘I’m sorry I left it so long, Mum, I really am.’ Lisa took a drink of her wine. ‘Life in London … I don’t know where to start really; it all seems so far removed now. I wasn’t myself for a bit.’

‘Yes, Ben said—’

‘Ben?’

‘I’m sorry, Lisa, but I knew you were holding something back, so I called him a few times to check you were OK.’

‘He never said.’

‘He said you … well, he said you had been seeing someone else and that you two were trying to work things out. That’s why we didn’t come to see you at Easter; we thought you needed time. Then when you called to say you wanted to come home, I assumed working things out hadn’t gone so well.’

Lisa was shocked. ‘Mum, I never … that’s not what it was.’ Lisa broke down. It was all too much. She told her mum about her relationship with Ben and losing Pip. Her mum listened and cried with her. When Luke blustered into the kitchen in search of food she shooed him away.

‘Lisa, I can’t believe how much you’ve been through. Why didn’t you say? You and Luke, you can tell me anything, you know. I am here for you. Things are important. God knows I love this place and the life we have now, but, Lisa, none of it matters without family. Having you both here with us, it makes it all perfect. You, your dad and Luke have always been my world.’

Lisa almost ventured a joke about a tidy house being her mum’s world, but realised it wasn’t the time. Instead she hugged her mum. ‘I love you, Mum.’

‘I love you too, darling. Now,’ she wiped her eyes on her apron and took a deep breath, ‘is there anything else you want to tell me?’

Lisa sighed. ‘No, I think that is everything. Unless you mean about Luke?’

‘No,’ Lisa’s mum rubbed her back, ‘he’ll tell me about his tattoo when he’s ready.’

Lisa burst out giggling and turned to face her. ‘You know?’

‘Of course I do. He’s always been terrible at hiding things … Unlike his big sister.’

‘I’m not hiding anything, no more secrets here,’ Lisa affirmed.

‘So, no blast from the past, as they say, that I might need to know about?’

‘I told you Felicity and I are friends again.’

‘And there’s nobody else you want to mention?’ Lisa’s mum looked directly at her.

Lisa’s cheeks coloured. Oh!

‘Only now you’re back, I wondered … I mean, I know I influenced you, telling you not to get too involved too young.’

Lisa recalled her mum and Mrs F frequently telling her and Flick that they shouldn’t settle down too soon, ‘There’s a whole world waiting for you Lisa’, her mum had frequently said, they were even her parting words on the night of her prom.

‘But I’ve often wondered, if I hadn’t pushed you—’

‘Ah, Mum. When Nathan proposed, it was me who said no.’

‘Yes but—’

Lisa touched her mum’s hand. ‘I was eighteen. I made my own choices. I’m not sure they were all the right choices, but look at the things I have seen and done. And if I hadn’t gone away I would probably have “what ifs” of a different sort.’

‘And do you, have “what ifs” now? I mean about Nathan?’

Lisa looked into her mum’s eyes. ‘Honestly?’

Her mum nodded.

‘All the bloody time.’

‘Oh Lisa love …’ Her mum pulled her into her arms.

When they broke their hug Lisa blew her nose and wiped her blotchy face.

Her mum poured them both more wine and looked at her tentatively. ‘I didn’t know if I should say, but … Harold Martin called—’

‘Is there any chance of food this side of Christmas?’ Luke appeared round the door.

‘Flippin’ heck, I forgot to put the duck in!’ Lisa’s mum leapt into action.

By the time they sat down to a late roast they had all consumed too much wine.

‘When in France …’ Lisa’s mum announced as she presented her platter of delicious-smelling roast duck and cranberry sauce.

‘And there I was thinking eating late had more to do with you getting plastered than French tradition.’

‘Luke, darling, unless you don’t want to eat I suggest you are quiet.’

Lisa’s head was spinning, she felt like she needed her bed more than she needed a hearty roast, even one that had filled the chalet with delicious smells all evening, but knew she didn’t dare say that to her mum.

They all filled their plates and glasses before making a toast to their Granny Blake, their first Christmas in France and Christmases yet to come. Ones Lisa promised herself would always involve appreciating time with her family.