Chapter Seventeen
The house was empty and quiet, and for once Bart revelled in it, marvelling at how quickly he’d got used to having guests in the house again.
He had become used to Eloise’s company and had become used to having Mitch, Sarah, and her little boy around.
Toby being here took him right back to when Ross was little.
Penny would have liked Sarah, and she would have adored Toby.
She would have been the first to offer to help, unthinkingly and unstintingly.
Similar to Eloise. Although Bart had a feeling Eloise had thought about it, for a little while at least. But she was definitely unstinting now that she’d thrown herself into making this Christmas as good as it possibly could be under the circumstances.
True to her word, she’d left immediately after breakfast this morning to go shopping, announcing that she should be back by lunchtime.
He wondered what she would bring back with her.
He had a funny feeling it wouldn’t just be Christmas presents for Toby.
He wouldn’t be at all surprised if she returned with a fireguard, or a chocolate elephant, or anything really.
She seemed to be a law unto herself, and he quite liked that. Eloise was decisive and no-nonsense. You knew where you stood with her. And she was generous to a fault. He was still amazed how she’d managed to pull off the boot thing yesterday. What was she going to pull off today? he wondered.
He was sitting at the little desk in his own private living room, a cup of tea at hand as he did another online grocery shop, but for considerably more items than he would usually put in his virtual trolley.
Last night, after Eloise had gone to bed, he’d written out a proper shopping list, cross-referencing it with the menu he’d planned for the forthcoming week.
It had been a herculean task trying to guess what everyone might like to eat and drink, especially a small child, but he’d managed it, even though it had taken him a good couple of hours, so it had been eleven-thirty before he’d got to bed.
Despite it having been a busy day and Bart being tired, sleep had eluded him.
He wasn’t surprised really, considering all the excitement.
Perhaps excitement was the wrong word; upset was a better one.
Excitement indicated something good, when in fact the events of the early hours of Monday morning had left a small family homeless.
That’s where Sarah was right now. She’d gone to the house because she’d received a phone call from the fire service informing her they believed the property was safe enough to allow her to collect a few possessions.
Bart guessed the damage might be fairly substantial.
Not from the fire necessarily, but from the mess left behind afterwards.
Everything would be covered in soot, or would stink of smoke, and would probably be damp.
He hoped she could salvage enough, and he anticipated the next few days being a conveyor belt of washing and tumble drying.
Was that too many sweet treats? he asked himself as he checked what was in his virtual basket.
Probably, but he preferred to have too much than not enough.
Anyway, Christmas was a time for indulgence, wasn’t it?
He had all the usual culprits: a Terry’s Chocolate Orange, After Eight mints, mince pies, another slab of Christmas cake, a tub of chocolates, and that was just for starters.
Talking about starters, should he do one for Christmas lunch? He was going to cook turkey, sprouts, Yorkshire puddings, honey-glazed parsnips, and so on, with a choice of Christmas pudding and brandy sauce or a trifle for afters. Would they need a starter, or would that be overkill?
The sound of the front door opening was swiftly followed by the patter of little footsteps as Toby raced into the room.
“Bart!” he cried. “Our house is stinky. My toys are dirty.” He didn’t appear to be too distressed by this, simply surprised.
Sarah, however, looked more than distressed. She’d been crying, and Bart didn’t blame her. In her situation, he’d be crying too.
“Was it bad?” he asked.
“Bad enough. I brought as much as I could, because I don’t know when I’ll be allowed in again. I couldn’t salvage any of his presents though. They were in the wardrobe, directly above where they reckon the fire started in the living room…” She trailed off and her eyes filled with tears.
Bart got to his feet, hurried over to her and held out his arms, enveloping her in a hug.
“I’m sorry,” she wept, sobs racking her slim frame.
Bart could say very little to ease her misery, so he said nothing. He simply held her tightly and waited.
Eventually her sobs subsided and she drew back, dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie.
“I know you don’t believe me, and things look very bleak right now, but they will get better,” he promised. “They always do.” She would find another house and would replace those possessions that had been destroyed or damaged beyond repair, and things would get better.
In the meantime, she and Toby would stay here, and he’d give her all the support he possibly could. Actually, he was looking forward to having them around for a while; he’d already grown fond of them, and Toby had breathed life into the old house.
Mind you, so had his other guests, and he’d be sorry to see them go when the time came. It was remarkable and humbling how they were pulling together to make this little family’s Christmas as good as it could be.
He’d especially miss Eloise.
Eloise winced as Bart tried to start the car for the third time. The big Volvo station wagon looked like a workhorse and, unlike her small hatchback, would be the perfect vehicle to transport a Christmas tree. If he could get it to start.
Toby, in a borrowed car seat in the back, let out a grizzle of frustration when the engine tried to fire but sounded more like an asthmatic sewing machine.
“Want me to take a look?” Mitch asked, his hand dropping to unclip his seatbelt. Being the biggest of Bart’s passengers, he was sitting in the front where he had room for his long legs.
“Start, damn you,” Bart muttered, his foot pumping the accelerator.
The car must have heard him because it suddenly spluttered to life. He gave a satisfied cry, slapped the steering wheel, and did some more revving until he was happy the engine wasn’t going to cut out.
The tension in the car eased, and everyone let out a sigh of relief, Bart’s the most heartfelt of all.
“It’s my fault,” he said. “I can’t remember the last time I started her up.
I do all my grocery shopping online these days, you see, and if I’m desperate for something, I walk into the village.
I don’t think it’s been used for weeks, and all this bad weather we’ve had must have made the battery sluggish. ”
“Can you drive a car?” Eloise asked Mitch.
“I can, but it’s been a while. I passed my test at seventeen, then promptly bought myself a motorbike instead.”
“Brum, brum,” Toby roared, making her jump.
Sarah smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”
Eloise said, “How about you, Sarah? Do you drive?”
“No. We couldn’t afford for me to have lessons, and I can’t afford to buy or run a car now anyway.”
In an out-of-the-way place like Honeycombe Bay, a car would certainly come in handy if you wanted to go farther afield, Eloise mused, so it was a pity she wasn’t staying longer, because she might have been able to give her a couple of lessons.
It would take more than the twelve days she had left of her stay in Honeycombe to turn Sarah into a driver though, and, as the girl pointed out, she couldn’t afford a car anyway.
Telling herself that she really couldn’t sort out all of Sarah’s problems, no matter how much she wanted to, Eloise dropped the subject and gazed out of the window until they arrived at the Christmas tree farm.
Yesterday’s dark, overcast, dismal weather had been blown away by a westerly breeze, and the sky was clear, with a weak sun trying its best to make inroads into the chill.
After scrambling out of the car, she wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck, thrust her hands into her gloves, and shivered.
If anyone had told her that she’d be standing in a mucky farmyard preparing to strap a Christmas tree to the roof rack of a clapped-out old car, she would have laughed in their faces, but for some inexplicable reason, she was actually looking forward to helping choose one.
This would be a whole new experience for her, to add to all the other new experiences over this past day or so.
She’d already had several this morning, all of them taking place within the confines of a toy shop, a type of establishment she hadn’t visited since she was a child, and my, hadn’t things changed!
When she’d been young, electronic devices were rare, but now every toy seemed to require plugging in and charging up, or endless batteries to make it work.
And the plethora of plastic had made her wince.
But she’d managed to find some little gems, with the help of a very obliging sales assistant.
The young man had pointed her in the direction of the more traditional ones, and his eyes had lit up when she said she would take one of each.
She didn’t even flinch when he presented her with the total.
In fact, she even managed to persuade him to help her carry her purchases back to her car.
After the toy shop, she’d visited the bookshop, where the staff had been equally delighted to help her choose several books suitable for a child of Toby’s age.
With the final purchase made, she’d been walking back to the car when her attention had been caught by a display of soaps and candles in a shop window.
Should she pick up a little something for Sarah to open on Christmas morning?
She wanted to, but if she did she’d also have to buy something for Bart and Mitch, and that would just become a little awkward.