Chapter 3 #2
‘Well, geographically Izzy is the furthest away from me now, but it’s varied over the years.
University took them both away from home first, then their jobs did, but they’re more settled now, though neither of them has a partner.
They’d hate to admit it, but they’re too much like me – far too independent for their own good.
We are close though, emotionally speaking, and I think losing their dad has brought us even closer.
I also think it’s the first time they’ve begun to think about me in terms of my age, and I’m not sure I like that. ’
‘You’re worried about becoming a burden?’
She smirked. ‘Maybe not just yet. I think, well, hope I’ve got a fair few years left in me before I get to being that but, ultimately, yes.
My mother used to say she didn’t want to be a burden and I invariably told her not to be silly.
Now I understand just how she felt because, whichever way you want to look at it, I guess my children always thought their dad would be around and that we would be there to look after one another. Now that onus has fallen on them.’
‘One which I’m sure they’re happy to take on. I might be making assumptions here but it doesn’t sound as if you visit your aunt every year out of duty – you do it because you want to.’
Peg nodded. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without Mim over the years. My dad isn’t around and my mum died in my early twenties so for a long time, Mim was all I had.’
‘There you go then. And I’m sure your children feel the same way.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ said Peg lightly. ‘But Julian’s death changed the dynamics within the family, and I don’t think any of us realised that would be something we’d have to navigate. Grief, yes, but… You must feel it too, in your situation?’
Henry licked his lip, chasing away a last crumb of pastry. ‘I have wondered in the past whether the reason Sofia tries so hard is because I’m on my own, because Adam’s mum isn’t around now and she feels she has to make up for that in some way.’
‘We’re back to that elusive perfect family Christmas again, aren’t we?’ Peg smiled. ‘But I think you’re right. Have you ever tried explaining that to her?’
‘Not in so many words… She’s not someone I find it easy to talk to, and I don’t think we could have that kind of conversation.
’ He took a deep breath, conscious not to let it out in one sighing rush.
‘And I’m worried that if I do, I’ll ruin Christmas, and my son will never speak to me again.
’ He stopped, fingering the edge of his scarf. ‘Sorry, I’m being dramatic.’
‘I don’t think you are. These are the things which worry us, aren’t they? And Christmas has become a time of such expectation, it heightens those feelings.’
‘It must be especially hard for you at this time of year.’
‘The first anniversary certainly was. My girls went skiing because being at home was too much for them. They wanted me to go along, but conversely I didn’t want to be anywhere but at home.
I knew it would be hard, but I felt as if I’d be abandoning Julian if I went anywhere else.
So that’s what we did. And it was fine. I mean, that first year we just got through it as best we could but, since then, it has got easier.
She gave a small smile. ‘I actually love Christmas. And I love my Christmas. There’s peace in solitude, in being alone, and I found out to my cost very early on that wishing for things to be different doesn’t make them so.
So you reconcile yourself to your present.
You invite Grief in because she’s a part of your life now and isn’t going anywhere, so you might as well make her welcome.
Besides, she’s a little like me – she’s mellowed a bit with age, and although she sometimes lies in wait for me around a corner, jumping out at me when I least expect it, for the most part we get on well.
We even have a laugh together sometimes, thinking about the past.’
Henry thought about Linda. About all the complicated thoughts he still held towards her. ‘I think that’s wonderful.’
Peg smirked. ‘Oh, I’ve had my fair share of down days, too.
Days which were filled with anger – anger at a world I wanted to burn to the ground for having the audacity to exist, carrying on when I couldn’t begin to imagine how that was possible – anger at Julian for dying and leaving me on my own, which wasn’t at all what we’d agreed – and anger at whatever entity it was that I’d been praying to, who rudely told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.
I railed at the injustice of it all. The unfairness.
But after a time even that dissipated, and I realised that even though Julian had died, it simply wasn’t my time.
I was alive and I had better get on and live.
We never know what’s around the corner, do we?
’ She pointed out of the window. ‘Or what’s up ahead… Is it snowing?’
Henry peered up at the sky. ‘No, it can’t be.
The sun’s coming out again, look.’ But even as he spoke tiny specks of white began to mill about, like petals drifting on a breeze.
‘It’s okay though, it’s fairy-tale snow.
Not the great big clumpy stuff which settles in minutes and makes travelling a nightmare.
We’ll be fine…’ He broke off to indicate the line of cars ahead of them.
‘And hopefully this lot will clear soon.’ Henry smiled, although he wasn’t altogether sure he wanted it to.
He hadn’t talked to Peg for nearly long enough yet, plus, by the time he arrived at his son’s house, the damage would already have been done.
His late arrival would no doubt set the mood for the entirety of the Christmas festivities, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’d get to see his son, he’d consider turning around and going back home…
provided they ever got moving, of course.
‘Have you got much further to go?’ he asked.
Peg shook her head. ‘Only another hour or so. Straight down the M5 and then turn off towards Stow-on-the-Wold.’
‘Yeah, me too. Although I turn off a bit sooner, towards Evesham. Where are you headed?’
‘Lower Steeping. Do you know it?’
Henry stared at her in surprise. ‘I used to go to school there. So your little church where you sing carols now is where I used to sing them in my youth. My family left the village before I started secondary school and moved up north to Stoke. It’s where I still live now. But my son lives in Bishop’s Coombe.’
Now it was Peg’s turn to look astonished. ‘That’s only about fifteen minutes away from me. What are the chances?’
‘I’d say about the same as bumping into someone at a petrol station and then meeting them again seventy miles further on down the road.’
Peg shook her head. ‘I don’t believe it. But then again, it is Christmas… If this were a film, one of us would be saying something about a Christmas miracle.’
Henry laughed. ‘Christmas coincidence doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?’ He was about to add that he wasn’t a ruggedly handsome hero either, when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He peered through the windscreen. ‘Hang on… isn’t that…?’
Peg leaned forward too. ‘What did you see?’
‘A light, I think. Way off, but…’
‘It is! It’s a brake light. Does that mean…?’ She smiled into his face. ‘I think we might be moving.’ But then her mouth opened into a round ‘O’ of surprise. ‘I’d better get back to my car or I’ll be in trouble.’
He began to help her, putting the lid back on the tin of mince pies, and gathering up a fallen glove while still keeping a watch on the traffic in front. The cars directly ahead were all starting their engines now, and Peg gave him a panicked look, then laughed.
‘Shit, I’m all of a dither now… Listen, have a safe journey and a good Christmas and…
’ She rolled up the top of the bag of crisps and shoved them under her arm, then handed them back to Henry.
‘You have them… I’ll only drop them.’ She clambered from the car, pulling her car keys from her pocket. ‘It’s been lovely meeting you!’
‘Yes, you too, Peg. And thank you, for the food, the chat, for everything…’ He was gabbling. There was so much he wanted to say. ‘And have a lovely Christmas!’
Her face was split by a wide smile as she ducked back down to look at him again. ‘Yes, you too. Oh, I hope so and… just… look, if it all gets too much—’
‘Yes?’
Peg was backing away. ‘My house is the one at the far end of the green and—’
Henry leaned sideways, craning his neck to see her as she began to run back along the line of cars.
‘Just c—’ Her voice was snatched away by the sound of engines roaring into life.
‘What?’ he shouted. ‘Just what?’
But Peg was gone.