Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
After lunch, Nick showed me where the stairs to the attic rooms were, behind a door not far from my room. I peered up them.
‘So, this is where all the family history is?’ I asked, as we creaked our way up.
‘Well, all the bits people have got fed up with,’ he said. ‘There are probably a lot more photos lurking up here somewhere, and my school reports.’
‘Ah, now those I would like to see,’ I said teasingly. I put on a posh accent. ‘Nikolai is a clever boy but must learn to apply himself and discipline that scattered mind so that he can put it to some useful purpose.’
He laughed.
‘How did you know? Actually, one master wrote that I had great potential, but should stop squandering it on fripperies.’
‘Ouch.’
‘At the time, yes, but it’s the fripperies that keep the heating running; app design pays surprisingly well.’
‘And it’s probably not really a frippery, is it?’ I asked, stopping as I came to the top of the staircase and was faced with a long corridor, lined with doors. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start – it must need a lot of specialist knowledge.’
Nick shrugged.
‘I suppose so, but it’s frivolous compared with, say, nursing.’
‘I doubt your schoolmaster would have been much more impressed if you’d said that was your ambition,’ I said. ‘My family asked me for years why I didn’t train to be a doctor instead; I never could make them understand that if you have a vocation, then that’s that.’
‘For what it’s worth,’ said Nick, looking me deep in the eyes, ‘I think it’s an amazing way to spend your life.’
Despite the chill of the passageway, I felt rather warm all of a sudden.
‘Thank you,’ I said quickly. ‘Now, where should we start looking for those decorations?’
‘Marilise said they would be in the furthest room, and thinks there are two tea chests,’ said Nick, starting off down the passage. He opened a door at the end, and we peered in.
‘It’s awfully murky,’ I said. ‘Is there a light?’ We both groped around for a switch. I found one and quickly flicked it. ‘Ah, that’s better.’
The room was stacked with boxes and chests, and a large armoire stood to one side. There was also a beautiful wooden rocking horse, which I approached to stroke its real horsehair mane.
‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ I said. ‘Sofia would adore him.’
Nick came and stood next to me.
‘Victoria and I used to play on him when we were kids,’ he said, his voice nostalgic.
‘I thought he was long gone. We used to argue over his name. I thought he should be called Silver, after the Lone Ranger’s horse of course, but Victoria was insistent that his – or rather her – name was Snuzzle, after one of her My Little Ponies. ’
‘I loved those!’ I exclaimed, an image instantly coming to my mind of the colourful pony figures I had played with endlessly as a child.
‘So I can’t count on you to back me up with “Silver”, then?’ asked Nick teasingly.
‘’Fraid not,’ I said, shaking my head and putting on a doleful expression. ‘It’s Snuzzle all the way for me.’
‘My sister’s toys are probably up here somewhere as well,’ said Nick, continuing the fun. ‘We could look them out and you can keep yourself busy when you’re not, you know, doing that nursing stuff.’
‘Great idea!’ I said, injecting my voice with girlish enthusiasm. ‘We can look for your Ken dolls at the same time.’
‘I did not play with Ken,’ said Nick in a tone of offended dignity. ‘I was loyal to Action Man. Now come on, let’s find these decorations or we’ll have Marilise to answer to.’
Still giggling, I helped looked for the tea chests.
It had been a long time since I had had such a silly, light-hearted conversation and I could feel how much it had lifted my spirits.
I probed to see if the guilt was about to follow, but it didn’t.
I might have thought more about it if Nick had not suddenly said, ‘Do you think it’s these? ’
I went over.
‘Yes, they look just the thing. Let’s open them up to check.
’ The lids weren’t pressed on too tightly and we were easily able to pry them off with our fingers.
‘Oh yes, this is them!’ I exclaimed, taking a small object wrapped in tissue paper and carefully opening it.
Inside was an exquisite teardrop shaped glass bauble, delicately gilded with swirls and tiny dots. ‘It’s stunning.’
‘Even I’m beginning to look forward to decorating a tree with these,’ said Nick, opening another package to find a similar bauble, but in cranberry-coloured glass and in the shape of a pinecone. ‘Come on, let’s take these down.’
The chests weren’t particularly heavy, and I could easily carry one back downstairs to where Angela and Marilise were sitting looking at the photograph albums again.
‘You found them!’ said the old lady, her face lighting up.
‘Exactly where you said they would be,’ said Nick. ‘We’d better get going to the shops for everything else – you could go through these while we’re out.’
‘No,’ said Marilise. ‘Much as I would love to see them again, I wouldn’t dream of unveiling such treasure when India and Sofia are at school and cannot join in. I will be patient, and we can do it all of us together, when we have a tree for them to live on.’
The drive to Taunton wasn’t long and we were soon walking to a pop-up Christmas shop I had found via a quick Google search.
The town, already charming, had its lights up and a festive display in every window.
As we walked past a little food and drink van parked next to an enormous, lavishly decorated tree, a waft of cinnamon and peppermint hit me and I stopped dead.
‘Ooh, look,’ I said. ‘Christmas hot chocolate.’
‘Do you want to get one?’ asked Nick.
Any December of the past three years would have found me saying a firm ‘no’, wrapping my arms tightly around myself and walking away, trying to hold back the tears.
But today, looking at Nick’s warm smile and remembering Marilise’s joy in finding her forgotten ornaments, a rush of festive spirit washed over me.
‘I’d love to,’ I said. ‘Will you join me?’
‘Why not?’ said Nick, and we walked over.
‘What can I get you?’ asked the friendly man behind the counter.
We studied the menu.
‘It’s hard to choose,’ I said. ‘But I think I’ll go for the Christmas Cracker. Cinnamon, ginger and popping candy sounds too good to turn down.’
‘And I’ll have an Old Saint Nick,’ said Nick. ‘White chocolate with caramelised orange, and named for me, too.’
‘Excellent choices,’ said the man, and a few minutes later, we were presented with huge mugs, topped with whipped cream.
‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘I thought we’d be able to drink them on our way to the shop.’
‘Take a seat,’ said the man, his eyes twinkling for all as though he was one of Santa’s elves and gesturing towards a small table beside the tree. ‘Enjoy the season, the hot chocolates and each other; no need to rush.’
His comment made me feel a little shy, but now that we had our china mugs, there wasn’t much option other than to sit down.
‘Maybe we should send Marilise a selfie,’ I said, half joking. ‘She’d be glad to see us getting into the spirit of things.’
‘Let’s do it,’ said Nick unexpectedly, and took out his phone. We held up our mugs and grinned. He showed me the photo. ‘Happy with that?’
‘Yes, it’s a good one,’ I said, and it was. With the tree behind us, our cold, rosy faces and our elaborate hot chocolates, we looked like an advertisement for Christmas.
He pressed send and we sipped our drinks, which we agreed were both delicious.
‘So… what should we get?’ asked Nick. ‘Now that I’ve agreed to this, I want to go all out, but I’ve got no idea what to buy.’
‘Well, you chose the right person to come shopping with,’ I said. ‘I already have an image in my mind, but your father wouldn’t like it at all.’
‘Marvellous,’ said Nick. ‘Maybe that should be our theme. Forget, oh, I don’t know, candy cane stripes or Nordic Christmas, ours should be “He would have hated it”.’
‘Hmm, I’m not sure we’ve quite imbued you with the Christmas spirit,’ I replied, ‘but we’re definitely getting there.’ I finished the last of my hot chocolate. ‘Shall we head off?’
He nodded and we handed our mugs back to the vendor and went to the shop.
It was an incredible sight, even from down the road.
Around the window of the large storefront was greenery a foot wide and thick, laced through with every colour of tinsel you could imagine, from metallic gold, silver and bronze, through all the colours of the rainbow and even an iridescent white, which I immediately added to my mental shopping list. The window itself had an enchanting display of a winter forest at night, with frosted trees surrounding a party that was being set up on tree stumps, figures of woodland creatures placed to look as if they were scurrying to and fro.
Mice carried trays of food, hedgehogs poured drinks and squirrels sprang from tree to tree with strings of lights.
A beautiful deer watched through the trees while a fox arranged presents and two owls swooped overhead.
‘Is this the sort of thing you were thinking of?’ said Nick jokingly.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I replied. ‘I thought four or five Christmas trees and we could do away with the furniture for a few weeks. A small sacrifice to make.’
Laughing, we went inside the shop. Even I was momentarily overwhelmed; it was a Christmas explosion.
Where to start? Part of me wanted to panic and run away, but I couldn’t let everybody down and besides, another part of me was thrilled by the prospect of this glittering emporium. I looked at Nick and he turned to me.
‘The five-year-old in me loves this,’ he said. ‘The thirty-five-year-old is terrified.’
‘Well, it’s the five-year-old we’ve come to indulge,’ I said. ‘He deserves to make up for all those missed Christmases. Where would he start?’
‘Candy canes,’ said Nick decisively. ‘I’ve always liked them, they’re so cheerful. I’d like a few of those about the place.’
‘Candy canes it is,’ I said, and moved into the shop.
‘Look, there’s a whole area dedicated to them.
You can have indoor or outdoor lights, tree decorations, giant versions, tinsel, even a candy cane front door cover to fit over your own.
Pretty much anything you can think of, but with red and white stripes. ’
‘I’m starting with this,’ he said, picking up a glittery foam cane that must have been three feet high.
‘In fact, I want two, one for either side of the fireplace in the sitting room.’ He picked up a second one and stood there grinning at me.
‘And now,’ he continued, ‘I want that candy cane Nutcracker figure, but I’ve already run out of arms.’
‘Can I help?’ asked a perky voice. I turned to see a young woman dressed as an elf, with a name badge that said ‘Twinkle’.
‘You can,’ I replied. ‘I think we’re going to need somewhere to put things while we shop.’
‘No problem at all,’ she said. ‘I’ll allocate you an area. And let me take these,’ she added, removing the candy canes from Nick and somehow managing to collect up the huge Nutcracker at the same time.
‘Back in a mo,’ she chirped.
‘With Twinkle on board, this is going to be even more dangerous,’ I told Nick. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to get out now, while you still can?’
‘Absolutely not. I’m beginning to enjoy myself. Now, tinsel.’
For the next hour, we capered around that shop like children, picking out everything we would need.
We hadn’t planned on buying any tree decorations, given that we had Marilise’s, but they proved far too tempting, so Nick announced that we would simply have two Christmas trees: Marilise’s in the hallway and the second in the living room.
We paused for the occasional serious discussion over whether we needed a person-sized gingerbread man (regretfully, we decided not) or if there should be two or three deer (three, of course) and I thought how much I was enjoying myself.
Had I been wrong to try and cut Christmas out of my life, or was this just good timing?
Eventually, we were finished. Even Twinkle had to admit that it wasn’t necessary to choose anything else.
‘You two have done very well,’ she said, and we basked in her approval. ‘There is one tiny thing, though.’ We frowned. What could we have missed? She pointed upwards. ‘You’re standing under the mistletoe, and you know what that means.’
A tall, thin elf passed by at that moment, paused and said in a singsong tone:
‘Mistletoe kiss. Mistletoe kiss. Brings Christmastime magic and Christmastime bliss.’
Before we knew it, several other elves appeared and began chanting the same thing.
‘They want you to kiss,’ said Twinkle in a stage whisper.
‘Yes, I think we realised that,’ said Nick drily, and looked at me, then raised one eyebrow. ‘May I, Nurse Wilde?’
Swept away by the fun of the afternoon, my senses reeling as Christmas spirit flooded my heart again, I nodded.
He bent his head and kissed me on the lips, a light kiss but long enough to set off fireworks and it was all I could do not to reach out and pull him closer, feel his body against mine, deepen the kiss and see where it took us on that heady, unreal December afternoon.
But it was over as quickly as it had started and we were blushing and grinning for the clapping elves, who no doubt set people up twenty times a day and never wanted the scene to become any steamier than a festive peck.
‘We’d better pay and sort out how to get this lot home,’ said Nick, and we went with Twinkle to the till.
The total was several hundred pounds, and I looked at Nick nervously.
Did his newfound Santa status reach as far as his wallet?
Apparently, it did, because he handed over his credit card without complaint or panic, merely asking about home delivery and once that was arranged for the next morning, we headed back to the car.
There was a new energy between us, and when we passed the Salvation Army band playing ‘Sleigh Ride’, I didn’t cover my ears or rush away but smiled to remember happier times and to wonder what the future might hold.