Chapter 14
Christmas Day
I reach my hand out from under the duvet to touch the end of my nose; it feels icy cold. The room is dark and it occurs to me that I must have woken early, before the heating has kicked in, but it’s not really surprising. I’m bracing myself for Daisy and Alfie to come crashing through the door and jump on my bed as they usually do before six on Christmas morning. Then, I remember: I’m not at Noella’s. I’m in my own bed, in my own house because the snow has made a virtual prisoner of me. Not that I mind, far from it. I can have a lazy morning, opening a few presents and singing along to my Christmas CDs, before a phone call with the family followed by a lavish lunch next door courtesy of Sally. She had invited me once it was clear that her parents and sister wouldn’t be able to make it through the snow and she had been most insistent, saying she didn’t want the food to go to waste. I could hardly refuse, could I, and anyway, I didn’t want to. The thought of spending more time in Luke’s company makes my stomach do back flips.
I can honestly say it was one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had and not merely because I knew I could have a few drinks and not have to worry about travelling to my sister’s the next day with a raging hangover. Not only did I have lunch at Matt and Sally’s, I stayed for dinner too, after which we tucked into the scrumptious chocolate birthday cake with a generous helping of double cream. When I eventually prised myself off the sofa to go home at almost midnight, I accepted Luke’s offer to escort me. Just as well I did, as it happens, because I missed my footing on the front door step, probably not entirely due to the snow, and Luke was there to catch me. I lifted my face to thank him just as he was planting a kiss on top of my head. Our lips met so briefly, but it was like a lightning bolt. I wasn’t expecting that, I can tell you, and judging by the look on his face, neither was he.
That kiss was all I could think about yesterday as I kept myself busy wrapping a few presents, not that I would be handing them out any time soon. Sally texted to invite me round for supper but I said no, not wanting to take advantage of her hospitality too much. She was disappointed that the church service had been cancelled because people couldn’t get there due to the snow but it really was impassable, even on foot; the snow simply hadn’t let up at all.
Instead, I spent the evening having a leisurely soak in the bath, my fragranced candles the only illumination, submerged beneath a mountain of posh bubbles and sipping altogether different ones. I’m not the biggest fan of Prosecco, but I do like a drop of the real thing, and one of the many benefits of working at a private school is that the parents are very generous with end-of-term presents, especially at Christmas. I climbed into bed just after eleven, clean and moisturised, and ridiculously excited about the next day when I would see Luke again.
Well, now the big day has arrived and I’m wondering if the prospect of spending time with Luke is why I’m awake so early. I decide to make a dash to open the curtains so I can watch the dawn break from the comfort of my cosy bed and am surprised when a bright blue sky greets me. I dive back into my nest and check my bedside clock; it’s 8.30. I’m just wondering why the heating hasn’t kicked in when my mobile rings. It’s Sally.
‘Merry Christmas. I haven’t woken you up, have I?’
‘Merry Christmas to you too, and no, I was just lying here appreciating the peace and quiet of a Christmas morning without my sister’s children clambering all over me. Is everything okay? You sound a bit tense.’
Her voice is definitely pitched slightly higher than usual as she asks, ‘Is your electric on?’
‘I think so. Hang on, I’ll just try the lamp.’
Nothing happens when I flick the switch.
‘Actually, I don’t think it is. Do you think it’s a power cut?’
‘I was hoping it was just a fuse, but if yours is off as well it certainly looks like it. Let’s hope it’s only for a short while. We’re all electric here so it’s freezing cold and if I don’t get the turkey in soon it won’t be cooked by lunch time.’
I’m galvanised into action.
‘Right,’ I say, ‘give me fifteen minutes to get dressed and get the fire lit and then you can all come around here to keep warm while we wait for the power to come back on. I’ll even be able to make coffees and teas if I heat some water in a saucepan.’
‘You’ve got a gas cooker?’
‘Yes. It’s ancient but they gave it a safety check before I moved in.’
‘Carol, you may have just saved Christmas,’ she says before hanging up.
I think that’s probably an overstatement but it’s nice to feel needed after all the kindness they’ve shown me.
I am up out of bed like a greyhound out of the traps and within five minutes I’m dressed, teeth and hair brushed, and fiddling around with the kindling for the fire. I’m glad that Dad insisted I got plenty of logs when I went to buy my Christmas tree, particularly as I now have no transport.
Once the fire has caught, I head to the kitchen, reach down a saucepan and fill it with water, marvelling that the pipes haven’t frozen. I’m just attempting to light one of the gas rings and wondering why it’s not sparking when there is a knock on the door. When I open it, Sally and the boys are standing there, faces pinched with the cold.
‘Come in and warm up,’ I say. ‘The fire has taken but I can’t get the gas lit for some reason.’
‘That’ll be because the ignitor spark is electric,’ Matt says, ‘but it should work with matches.’
‘Why didn’t I think of that? Right, coffee shouldn’t be too long. Do you want to nip upstairs and get my radio from the bathroom, Sally? I put new batteries in it last night so at least we can listen to some Christmas songs to get us in the festive spirit.’
I retreat to the kitchen with the matches, my heart beating loudly in my chest, having been unable to make eye contact with Luke for fear of blushing.
An hour later, Sally is getting really anxious, as there is still no sign of the power coming back on.
‘Carol,’ she says, ‘do you think we could start the turkey off in your oven and then transfer it to mine when we get the electric back?’
I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I have no idea how the oven works. I’ve used the top of the cooker a couple of times but I mostly rely on the microwave.
‘I don’t see why not, so long as we can get it lit.’
We all traipse into my tiny kitchen and stand back to give Luke some room as he has volunteered to do the honours. He twists a knob, strikes a match and reaches his hand to the back of the oven. Miraculously, a row of blue flames appear and I almost feel like applauding.
The next few hours fly by with Sally organising us with almost military precision. Once the turkey was in the oven, she and Luke made a start on preparing the vegetables, while Matt shovelled a pathway through the snow between our two houses and I kept the fire roaring and cleared a space in front of it for Matt and Sally’s table and chairs. When they were in position, I laid the table with the holly-sprigged tablecloth that I recognised from our stall at the Christmas fayre, placemats and crackers, all supplied by my neighbours. At least I had cutlery, plates and wine glasses, and I’m a big candle fan so I lit several around the room to make up for not being able to have the tree lights on.
We were so busy, I almost forgot to ring Mum and Dad. They had managed to get to Noella’s as the main roads had been gritted, and I could hear all the usual shrieks and cries from my excited nephew and niece going on in the background. I looked around me and then raised my eyes to the heavens, giving thanks for the snow that had spared me the routine of the past few years, but grateful that I hadn’t had to upset anybody by saying I didn’t want to go.
It was past three when we eventually sat down to lunch, by which time we were all pretty hungry, but it was worth the wait. Even with the handicap of having to prepare everything in and on my old gas cooker, Sally had excelled. Matt was right; she should go on a television cooking show and I’m pretty sure she would win it hands down.
The power eventually comes back on around six o clock, just after Matt and Luke have carried the furniture back to next door by torchlight.
‘Shall we go back to ours for coffee and Christmas cake?’ Sally asks.
‘Can’t we bring the cake round here?’ says Luke. ‘It’s so much cosier in front of a log fire. That’s assuming you don’t mind, Carol?’
I don’t mind at all but I’m not so sure Sally is thrilled with Luke describing my home as cosier than theirs.
‘I’ll fetch the cake,’ Matt says, ‘and you get the kettle on, Carol, then we can play that game of charades we were planning.
I look at Sally for confirmation and she nods, smiling.
Despite, or probably because of, the power failure, Christmas in my new home has exceeded all expectations.