Chapter 55 Christmas
Christmas came and went without anyone being murdered, which shows great restraint on my part.
Our Instagram reels portrayed an ostensibly Happy Christmas – reading ‘The Night Before Christmas’ together by a log fire on Christmas Eve, the children jumping up and down in matching red-and-white pyjamas with their stockings, Stephen and I singing ‘Here Comes Santa Claus’ in jolly Santa hats, and gasping as the Christmas pudding was set aflame with brandy.
So many pictures that jar so violently with my memory. Between these homely images, I cut holes in the crotches of Stephen’s suits, superglued his MacBook Pro shut, and dumped his Patek Philippe in the toilet bowl. Petty, of course, but it felt good.
We argued when time allowed, but I didn’t mention the spectre of divorce at all, although the thought of it left me feeling quite sick all week. He doesn’t know a divorce could leave me with nothing if he found out about Hollis and our voided relationship.
I’m sure the children sensed the tension because Nathan wasn’t sleeping and Nelly pulled all eight tentacles off his brand-new Jellycat octopus.
Nathan had a wee on Nelly from the top of the stairs in revenge.
Not much landed on Nelly, but it did hit a socket and blew the fuse.
Stephen scolded everyone, then disappeared to the place men go when they find a little puddle of pee too much to bear.
When he came back he lost the plot again because he discovered I’d bought a goose not a turkey. He told me that his mother would never have done such a thing to his father, and left again, claiming he was going to buy a turkey, at 1 p.m. on Christmas Day.
I assumed he was on his way to mope at his mother’s bedside as she would probably equal his outrage at my culinary detour. However, he’d consumed three quarters of a bottle of Baileys by midday and called not long after he left, having driven into a tree just outside our house.
I told him that his actions were unbecoming of someone hoping to become a partner, as the final deliberations would happen early in the new year. He told me that my goose was cooked, which annoyed me because I knew it was – I put it in the oven myself.
Even though the children enjoyed Christmas, Stephen’s mood remained sour.
He blamed our ruined festivities and everything else (including the new dull Quality Street wrappers) on my unilateral decision to abandon tradition rather than his decision to abandon his family.
He even asked me if the goose was some kind of ‘perverse revenge’ for the divorce, and I assured him that spending four hours preparing and cooking a Christmas roast did not qualify as revenge, and if I did punish him, it would be far more painful.
On reflection, showing the children how to flambé a Christmas pudding with brandy was not such a good idea, as Nelly and Nathan ended the day by pouring brandy all over one of the knitted Christmas pudding tree decorations and setting it aflame.
Stephen and I had to stop slandering each other in the kitchen as the scream from the living room was truly ear-shattering.
Cait could learn a thing or two from Nathan in the blood-curdling cry department.
We found a considerably-sized Christmas tree fire in the living room.
Nelly did not need my support but Nathan did, so I took him in my arms and cuddled him, which felt quite rewarding.
It’s in moments such as saving a child from a burning tree that I feel my motherly instincts are at their strongest.
Our Christmas Day ended with the fire brigade dousing everything in water, but they were better company than Stephen, and complimentary about the cold goose.
The living room is completely wrecked. On the plus side, it does mean that we will have to press ahead with a full redecoration, and I’m sure the fire will have destroyed any residual traces of DNA.
There were lovely moments on Boxing Day, because I used the excuse of feeling sick to refuse to drive the family to visit Madeleine. Stephen had to go alone to see his steadfastly undead mother. That left the three of us to enjoy the bond of mother and child, which we expressed through baking.
We enjoyed a joyous three-hour baking and decorating marathon.
Nathan and Nelly were particularly keen on making the marzipan leaves and berries for the cupcakes.
To a background chorus of ‘Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer’, Nelly added the red colour dye for holly berries, and Nathan added the green for the leaves.
The late afternoon was spent eating cupcakes and sitting together to watch a movie.
Our favourite is Nativity! which makes both children howl.
When you consider divorce, putting aside income, a convenient companion at social events, and use as a bed-heater in winter, you’re really not all that worse off.
That’s not to say I’m giving up. The announcement of a divorce isn’t final, it’s an opening jab, nothing more, and I used the opportunity of New Year to devise some resolutions to save my marriage.
New Year’s Resolutions
Tend to the physical
Increase testosterone gel dosage.
Build shared goals
Lie about being pregnant.
Connect emotionally
Buy a puppy(?)
Show your kindness
Send his mother a ‘get well’ card.
Satisfy his deeper needs
Buy him track day at the Nürburgring.
Remove the financial pressure
Ensure Josh makes him partner.
Allow him to be a hero
Break the toilet flush so he can mend it.
Retain a mysterious allure
Send flowers to myself anonymously.
Gain his commitment
Secure mortgage on my dream house.
Build trust in the bedroom
Offer him a threesome.