Chapter 22
On Sunday morning, Thea still hadn’t got around to working out what she was going to do about the knackered fake Christmas tree.
The poor thing was leaning like a drunkard up against the wall of the living room, looking sadder and more rubbish than ever.
The price label on the box was a reminder of just how old the thing was, and she knew that, even a modest replacement would set her back more money that she didn’t have.
Perhaps, with the judicious application of some duct tape and a bit of creative positioning of the better branches to cover the more ragged ones, the tree could survive another year.
All the same, the box of tree ornaments that stood in a state of melancholy beside the tree, just waiting to be positioned and argued over by Cora and Dylan, also stared at her in quiet reproach.
For a split second she entertained the notion of just nipping into the woodland behind the house and hacking down a dwarf pine from an unseen corner, but she didn’t own a saw, and she couldn’t, in all conscience, ruin a tree just for the sake of a couple of weeks in her house.
Glumly, she looked at a replacement tree on Amazon, but, since it was so close to Christmas, any options that would arrive before the big day were wildly expensive and any within her meagre budget wouldn’t arrive until January. What could she do?
The cheery ring of her doorbell made her jump, but at least it stalled the avalanche of self-pity that threatened to break over her head.
The tree would have to wait. She hadn’t planned to see anyone today: Tristan wasn’t a dropper-in, and Lorelai hadn’t mentioned that she was going to come over, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t, if she’d fancied the short walk between her place and Thea’s.
She didn’t bother to check the Ring doorbell camera before reaching for the latch on the door.
The cul-de-sac was quiet at the best of times, and on a Sunday morning there seemed little chance it would be an unwelcome visitor.
However, when she pulled open the door, all she could see was the somewhat innocuous sight of a Norwegian spruce tree, propped up against the side of the bay window.
‘What on earth?’ she said in bemusement.
‘If it’s too much, I can find another home for it.’ Nick, who’d been hiding around the corner of the house, emerged, looking both delighted and sheepish to be the bearer of glad tidings, as well as the Christmas tree.
‘Nick…’ Thea began. ‘I… I can’t accept this. And I certainly can’t afford it.’
‘Yes, you can,’ Nick replied. ‘It’s the last of a job lot we got from a supplier.
And it’s the runt of the litter, look.’ He pointed to a slightly brown looking branch that was poking out at an angle at the bottom of the tree.
‘I’d have had to knock half off the price, anyway, and we’re getting a few more in tomorrow, so it won’t be missed. It needs a good home.’
‘But I haven’t got a pot to put it in,’ Thea protested. ‘Poor thing’ll die of thirst.’
‘I’ve thought of that, too.’ Nick produced a Christmas tree stand from behind his back, which just happened to be a festive red colour.
‘We have a couple of these in the store room at work – we won’t miss one, this close to Christmas.
Put a bit of tinsel around it and you’re golden. Now you have to take it in.’
Thea smiled at him. ‘You’ve convinced me.’ She paused. ‘But you’re also a gullible fool. Cora really did a number on you about the state of our fake tree, didn’t she?’
‘Can’t have a fake tree, anyhow,’ Nick replied. ‘It’s not the same. And before you try to tell me that Christmas trees aren’t sustainable, this one’s got eco-credentials dropping as fast as its needles.’
Thea shook her head. ‘You’re ridiculous, Nick Saint.’
‘So they tell me.’
There was that pause again. ‘Well? Are you going to let me bring it into the house, or is it just going to live on your doorstep until the recycling comes in the new year?’
Thea shook her head. ‘Well, I suppose since you put it like that…’ She moved quickly out of the way as Nick grabbed the tree and briskly brought it into the house. She tried not to notice the dropping needles: the hall needed a good hoover, anyway.
‘Where do you want it?’ Nick asked.
‘In the corner by the patio door would be brilliant,’ Thea replied. She watched as Nick carefully positioned the tree in the stand and fixed it in place.
‘Fill it up with some water and it’s good until Twelfth Night at least,’ Nick said as he straightened back up again. Thea watched him give a slightly disdainful glance in the direction of the remains of the artificial tree. ‘And that old thing can go in the bin, now!’
‘That’s virtually a family heirloom!’ Thea laughed. ‘I think Ed and I bought it for our first house together.’
‘All the more reason to dump the bloody thing, then,’ Nick said. ‘He always struck me as a bit of a fake.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Thea teased. ‘And I suppose you’re the real thing, are you?’
Realising what she’d said, she felt the colour creeping up her face. ‘I mean, um, stop taking the mick, Nick!’
‘Well saved,’ Nick said, an amused tone in his voice. ‘But yeah… I like the real thing. Feels more authentic, somehow. More… trustworthy.’ He was tinkering with the tree, getting it straight in the stand, but as he spoke, he turned around to face her. ‘Don’t you think?’
The question hung between them, and Thea wondered if they were still talking about Christmas greenery. ‘I suppose…’ she began, before a squeal from the doorway cut her off.
‘Oh wow! That’s, like, so much nicer than our old tree. It looks awesome!’
Cora bounded into the room and immediately started rummaging in the box of baubles. ‘Dylan!’ she shouted towards the ceiling. ‘We can decorate the tree now!’
Thea winced at the volume of her daughter’s voice, but Nick seemed unbothered by it.
The thud of footsteps down the stairs, and an even heftier thump as Dylan did his usual and jumped down the last three into the hallway, announced her younger son’s arrival.
‘Cool,’ he said as he hurried past Thea and Nick. ‘Shotgun putting the angel on top!’
‘Mum’s going to do that, like always,’ Cora chided her younger brother.
She paused and stopped rummaging in the baubles box.
‘Why don’t you and Nick go for a walk or something while we do the tree?
We want to make it look really nice.’ Her eyes swivelled from Thea to Nick.
‘You could even get a coffee at the pub if you wanted to.’
Thea tried to read the expression in her daughter’s eyes, but she’d turned her attention back to the tree decorations.
‘I’m sure you’re really busy, aren’t you?’ She looked at Nick. ‘I mean, you must have loads to do in the run up to Christmas…’
Nick smiled at her. ‘Actually, I don’t have any plans. Next week’s going to be manic, so I deliberately didn’t put anything in for today.’ He shuffled on the spot a bit. ‘We could go for a bit of a walk if you want, leave these two to bling up the tree in peace?’
Thea felt her heart do that little flipping thing she’d been trying to ignore whenever Nick did something adorable. ‘I’d like that.’ She had a bright idea. ‘Give me a minute, and I’ll whip us up a couple of lattes to take on the walk. I’ve got a couple of decent travel mugs.’
‘Sounds great. Can you put an extra sugar in mine?’
‘You’re sweet enough already!’ Thea quipped and then regretted it as her face grew hot and Cora threw her an enquiring glance. ‘I, er, won’t be a minute.’
As good as her word, within a few minutes they were heading out the front door towards the wooded area that divided the housing estate from the rest of Lower Brambleton.
Sipping her coffee, Thea tried not to think about just how lovely it had been to open the door and find Nick on the other side of it.
Shrugging deeper into her thick, quilted winter parka, she tried instead to concentrate on the gorgeous surroundings.
‘Well, I think the tree is a hit, don’t you?’
Thea nodded enthusiastically. Even though she was mid-sip from her travel mug. ‘It really is,’ she said after a moment. ‘Thank you again, Nick.’
‘What are friends for?’
There was something about Nick’s tone that made Thea glance across at him.
They were ambling down the winding path that led from the edge of the housing estate down towards the small centre of Lower Brambleton.
It was a path that had been renovated since the houses had been erected, which made it easier to follow, but there were few other walkers using it on a quiet Sunday morning.
The route they were following led to the village, but if they’d walked the other way, they’d have ended up on Buttermere Lane, where Lorelai’s cottage was.
Thea had been scanning the path as they’d walked, but Nick’s voice brought her up short.
‘I’m so glad you’re my friend, Nick,’ she said carefully. ‘You and I… we’ve known each other a long time, haven’t we? I mean, I know we’ve only been spending more time together recently, but old friendships count for a lot, don’t you think?’
Nick grinned. ‘Definitely! But you saying it like that makes me feel old.’
‘Me too.’