Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
‘Ho, ho, ho…’ Heather could hear her father Angus Balhennie’s soft Scottish brogue as he talked to the next first child in the line that snaked around the Balhennie Inn’s lounge, and out into the hall. ‘So, Sarah, have you been a good girl this year?’
The Inn was heaving with locals. Angus and Catriona were throwing their annual Christmas party for friends and family.
As part of this, Angus dressed up as Santa every year, with the requisite false white beard and padded tummy under his red and white outfit, and Catriona was Mrs Claus in an unflattering red dress with a white faux fur collar and cuffs.
In the garden, Angus and Tam Blackwood, Sorrel’s boyfriend, had erected a large shed covered in fairy lights, in which a couple of deer from a nearby farm were pretending to be reindeer for the little ones.
Tam was on ‘reindeer’ duty with Sorrel – children were allowed to pose next to the deer for pictures, and there were pony rides around the garden with a couple of ancient and gentle ponies that lived on the same farm.
Heather and the rest of her sisters were on food and drink duty, which included tidying dirty glasses and plates from where people left them lying around, refilling drinks, making endless rounds of sandwiches and circulating with plates of sausage rolls, slices of Christmas cake, muffins and mini burgers.
‘Cup of tea, Dad,’ Heather murmured as she approached Angus with a mug of tea and a plate with a couple of sandwiches and a mince pie on it.
‘Ah, thank you, hen.’ Angus beamed at her from under the beard. He handed little Sarah McInnes a brightly wrapped present from under the Christmas tree next to him: she squealed delightedly and ran off with it.
‘How’s it going, Santa?’ Heather asked her father with a grin.
‘Aye, it’s fine, fine.’ He nodded genially. ‘No’ sure I needed the paddin’ down the front o’ the costume this year, if I’m honest. I need tae start exercisin’ more.’ He sighed. ‘It’s your mother’s cookin’. It’s too good.’
‘Ha. Maybe I should take this mince pie back to the kitchen?’ Heather joked.
‘You will not.’ Angus picked up the pie and ate it in two quick bites. ‘Anyway, I better get back to it. These children’ll go feral if not, aye. Keep everyone’s drinks freshened, will you, hen?’
‘Of course, Dad. We’re on it.’ Heather squeezed her father’s shoulder.
She looked up at the sound of a sudden disturbance in the hallway.
‘What’s that?’ Angus frowned. ‘Go an’ see, would you, Heather? I can’t go myself. If it’s John about the ponies, tell him I’ll pay him after.’
‘Of course.’ Heather made her way into the hallway, where Elizabeth Campbell stood, being photographed by three men with cameras and lights.
She was posing against the reception desk of the Balhennie Inn, where there was a lovely large Christmas tree, decorated in Balhennie tartan bows – a red background with a green and yellow stripe – and shiny red baubles.
‘Elizabeth… what’s going on?’ Heather approached her as a flash went off in her eyes. She blinked.
‘We are enjoying your parents’ kind invitation to the Christmas party,’ Elizabeth replied, a little haughtily. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
Elizabeth turned to one of the three photographers.
‘Claude! Get me on my left side only, remember,’ she chastised the man. ‘We’ll go and take some pictures with the ponies outside, and I need plenty of children looking happy.’
‘Um…’ Heather exchanged glances with Clara, who was watching the photo shoot with a neutral expression. ‘Lady Campbell, I think my parents intended this to be a private party… you’re welcome, of course, but we didn’t know you were bringing photographers.’
‘Oh, it’s fine, dear. You’ll hardly notice them,’ Elizabeth assured her.
‘Well, we have noticed them,’ Heather argued; Matty came in, unzipping a padded black parka.
‘Hello, beautiful.’ He enveloped her in a hug. ‘Hey. This is all very festive!’
‘Yeah, it’s nice, thanks… Mum and Dad organise it every year for the locals.’ Heather jumped as two primary school-aged kids zoomed past her and Matty, with their middle-aged father in hot pursuit.
‘Sorry,’ he apologised, as he sprinted past. ‘They’ve heard there’s cake.’
‘Right. Santa’s in here, Lady Campbell,’ one of the photographers called out. ‘I think if we can get you handing out the presents, maybe get one of the kids on your lap…’
Elizabeth and her retinue went into the next room. Matty put his hand over his eyes.
‘I can’t watch. Sorry she’s doing this. I didn’t know she was planning on making this a press opportunity.’ He kissed Heather on the cheek. ‘You okay?’
They’d spent the night before together, and Heather had woken up feeling so connected to Matty again. It had seemed like years since they’d been intimate, even though it was only a few days. It was a relief to be back in the right energy with him; she’d hated being so out of sync.
‘I’m fine. I mean, this is a private party…
I don’t think anyone intended for Elizabeth to pretend she’s the guest of honour and use it as a photo op,’ Heather whispered, side-eyeing Matty’s mother as she smiled beatifically at the camera, standing under Catriona’s quilted sign that read, FAMILY * LOVE * CHRISTMAS.
‘I know. I’m sorry. I’ll have a word with her.’ Matty kissed the tip of Heather’s nose.
‘I wish someone would. Maybe I ought to do something totally outrageous to embarrass her.’
‘Like what? Streak?’ Matty started to laugh.
‘I could.’
‘I would pay to see that.’ Heather’s husband-to-be nodded faux-seriously.
‘Cheeky. You can see it anytime you like if we’re getting married,’ Heather replied, shaking her head faintly as Elizabeth shook hands with some bewildered locals.
‘I knew there was a reason we were doing this…’ Matty grinned and put his arm around her shoulder.
‘Okay. Let’s agree that my mother is totally inappropriate for coming here with a camera crew, but let’s enjoy the spectacle.
What do you say?’ He reached over to a nearby tray of drinks and handed Heather a glass of eggnog.
‘Retro drink for the lady? We have to drink every time she does something ridiculous.’
‘We’ll be under the table in about three minutes, then.’ Heather rolled her eyes, good-naturedly. ‘Okay.’
She glanced into the lounge, where Angus was letting Elizabeth steal the spotlight and helping her hand out presents to the children.
‘Oh, dear lord. Take a drink,’ Matty whispered, and they both took a sip of the yellowish cocktail.
‘Yuck. That is disgusting.’ Matty made a face. ‘How did people in the Seventies think that this was the height of sophistication?’
‘Same reason they thought it was cool to cover all food in aspic.’
‘Good point.’
Heather took a moment to watch the scene unfold in the lounge: the photographers did their thing and then stepped back after they had taken pictures of Elizabeth giving presents to apple-cheeked children and laughing in a stagy way with the adults.
Angus didn’t seem to mind the photos; he was chattering away to Elizabeth in the way that he did, and she was laughing along.
Heather watched as Angus said something to Elizabeth, and made her laugh and shake her head; then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a second fake beard and handed it to her.
Heather’s eyes widened; she tugged at Matty’s hand.
‘Look!’ she whispered. ‘Is that… Is your mother about to…?’
‘Surely not.’ Matty and Heather watched in amazement as Elizabeth took the beard and hooked it over her ears.
Angus took off his red velvet Santa hat and handed it to her, and Elizabeth sat down on the chair.
He bowed to her, and gestured to the next child to come up and get her present. ‘Oh, my… she is. Drink.’
They both took another sip of eggnog. Heather stifled another laugh as Matty elbowed her in the ribs.
‘Well, that wasn’t on my bingo card for today.’ Matty started to laugh, as a little girl in blue dungarees and a smear of chocolate around her mouth climbed onto Elizabeth Campbell’s lap and started chattering to her. ‘I cannot believe that your dad got her to do that!’
‘This is certainly turning out to be a… err… very surprising event,’ Heather agreed, as she too got the giggles. ‘I never thought I would see the day!’
As Heather and Matty watched Elizabeth and Angus play Santa and Mrs Claus, Heather felt a glow of warmth spread from her heart to her whole body.
She realised that she had everything she wanted, now: a man to love, who loved her; a loving family; a job she loved, and the promise of their own children, in the future.
In her way, she’d be just like Elizabeth: she’d have her job, her own life, as well as the children.
But she and Matty would be just like her parents – the hub of a community, parents of happy children, in love with each other through all the ups and downs. That was what she wanted.
She wrapped her arms around Matty’s waist and looked up into his eyes.
‘I love you,’ she whispered.
‘I love you too, Heather.’ Matty kissed her. ‘Here’s to many more Christmases, just like this one.’