Chapter 12
We spent the next hour and a half at the dining room table, making decorations to match Tucker’s new chairs, because I needed a starting point for the rest of the café’s interior.
A couple of us made baubles in the shape of stars and tiny trees out of olive, pink and silver twine and shiny beads.
We made garlands from paper pom-poms, and tiny gingerbread houses using plain brown cardboard, white pipe-cleaners and gingham ribbons.
The front door slammed shut about thirty minutes after we’d started, followed by Edith bursting into the room a few seconds later. Her long, straight hair was lighter than her little sister’s, but she had the same huge green eyes and petite frame.
‘Yay,’ she said, face deadpan. ‘I totally forgot my dad’s singles club were coming over.’
‘Singles club?’ Joel’s eyes grew round as he passed Bonnie a tray of tiny pinecones. ‘I wish.’
‘Hey, Dad,’ Will said, matching his daughter’s tone perfectly. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
‘Apology accepted,’ Edith trilled, before disappearing back into the hallway and thumping up the stairs.
Will clenched his jaw, closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and followed her.
‘Uh-oh,’ Bonnie said, shaking her head. ‘That girl is in big trouble now.’
‘Ooh, what’s big trouble?’ Lola asked.
Bonnie gave a blasé shrug as she selected a pinecone. ‘You’ll see.’
We did see, a while later, when Edith brought through fresh pots of tea and coffee, going back to fetch a plate of reindeer cookies before standing at the end of the table, shoulders back, hands clasped like a penitent nun.
‘I’m sorry for my bad attitude and sincerely hope it didn’t ruin your party. I shouldn’t have made guests feel awkward just because I’m mad at my draconian dad. Especially when for you going out and socialising is, like, a massive deal.’
Will, currently pouring out more drinks, froze, the coffee pot still in his hand.
‘I was joking! Sheesh, Dad.’ She gave him an exaggerated grin, grabbing a cookie as she slid onto a chair in between me and Lola.
‘But it is literally a group for people with no friends,’ she added, around a mouthful of crumbs.
At that point, Jordan sidled in. He was a mini version of his dad, only still in that gangly phase of rapid teenage growth sometimes accompanied with a hunched posture and general sense of awkwardness.
‘Hey. Hi Donovan,’ he said, with a small wave.
Will quickly introduced him to the rest of us, they had a brief conversation about whether he’d got his homework finished, and then Jordan squatted on the floor beside Ernest, who instantly rolled over for a belly rub while the rest of us went back to the decorations.
‘What are these?’ Edith asked me after a few minutes, forgetting this was far too boring to engage with.
‘I’m making foxes.’ I held up an orange slice that I’d dried out the day before, showing her how I’d added two little ears from more orange peel and had painted on a face, eyes and nose before threading through some twine to hang it up.
‘That is legitimately so cute. I’m making some for our house.’ She grabbed a handful of slices.
‘They’re for Tucker’s,’ Joel said, his eyes darting anxiously to Merry and back. ‘You aren’t allowed to keep them.’
‘I’ve only taken a few.’
‘No!’ Joel stretched his hand across the table, face flushing. ‘They aren’t yours.’
‘Fine!’ Edith said, throwing them back on the plate. ‘We can go another year with the crummy old crap Dad keeps pretending counts as decorations, even though anyone with eyes can see they’re a literal crime against Christmas.’
‘Dad!’ Bonnie squealed. ‘Edith said a bad word.’
‘Sorry, Dad,’ Edith added. ‘Would you prefer me to use the word you said when cooking dinner the other night? Because while I thought that was the kind of word you wouldn’t want me saying in front of your esteemed guests, it does describe the ornaments perfectly.’
‘It does.’ Bonnie nodded solemnly. ‘They are quite shooty.’
Will rubbed one hand over his dark hair. ‘Okay, sorry, are you genuinely complaining about our decorations, or is this just another opportunity to knock Dad?’
‘Apology accepted,’ Edith said. ‘And yes to both.’
‘We should put them all in the bin and make new ones,’ Bonnie agreed.
‘Bonnie, those are the things Mum made.’ Will was flabbergasted.
‘Doesn’t make them any less sad and decrepit,’ Jordan said, lying beside Ernest as he scratched his giant ear. ‘If we found a sandwich Mum had made, we wouldn’t eat it.’
‘Or what about that cushion that turned smelly?’ Edith added. ‘You made us throw that away.’
‘Well, yes, but this is Christmas.’
Bonnie climbed off her chair and slipped out of the room, singing, ‘Back in a minute!’
For a minute or two I felt awkward about this personal conversation taking place in front of Will’s guests.
Then I realised everyone else was carrying on crafting as if completely unbothered.
I decided maybe the guests were okay with it because they were also genuine friends and let my discomfort go.
‘We aren’t going to forget Mum because we don’t put up the same bedraggled wreath forever,’ Edith said, breaking the silence.
Jordan sat up. ‘If anything, it dishonours Mum when the house looks like an eyesore. Don’t you think she’d want us to make it look nice?’
Bonnie flew back in, panting. ‘Here.’ She held up what looked like an angel with only one wing and a lopsided head. ‘You could put this inside some resin, Daddy, and the rest. Then you can still keep them.’
‘This is a unanimous decision?’ Will asked. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Well, apart from putting them in resin, obviously.’ Edith rolled her eyes.
‘Sounds like the kids have spoken,’ Donovan said.
‘I can keep the old decorations in case you change your mind,’ Will offered.
‘We won’t!’ Jordan groaned.
‘But you can’t have these ones,’ Joel added, anxiously. ‘These are all for Tucker’s.’
‘That’s all right,’ Bonnie said. ‘Alex will come over another day and help us make some more, won’t you? You haven’t got anything to do now you’re not allowed on telly, but Dad says you’re excellent at making things better.’
Did he now?
‘I never said you haven’t got anything to do,’ Will clarified.
‘Well, I have, actually.’ I leant across the table to address Bonnie. ‘I’m helping Merry and Joel make Tucker’s better, seeing as I’m good at that. But I’d love to help decorate your house. If the others don’t mind.’
‘If you bring more oranges, then that’s okay, I suppose.’ Edith gave a dismissive shrug.
‘That’s settled then,’ Darya announced, before Will could even reply. ‘When is a good time for you both? Saturday afternoon? Around two o’clock? Perfect.’
We spent a few more minutes finishing off our crafts, then Joel asked when it was food time because his stomach was about to start digesting itself.
That led to an hour of chatting in the kitchen while Will encouraged us to make taco art from the ingredients he’d assembled.
Instead of the standard toppings, there were dishes containing seasonal items, including shredded turkey, sage and onion stuffing, pigs in blankets and cranberry sauce.
There was even a dish of Brussels sprouts fried with chestnuts and pancetta.
‘Christmas tacos? Very creative,’ Donovan noted, helping himself to a dollop of bread sauce.
‘Eating a taco without dribbling it all down my chest is an art I haven’t mastered,’ Merry chortled, tucking a napkin into the neckline of her sparkly snowman jumper.
By the time only a few dregs remained, it was almost seven.
Will took Bonnie up for her bath while people were pulling on boots, coats, hats and gloves, but I stayed to gather together the decorations so Will could bring them to Tucker’s in the morning.
Then, having taken the rubbish from the dining room to put in the kitchen bin, I couldn’t leave all the kitchen mess for Will to do later.
By the time Bonnie bumped down the stairs in anteater pyjamas, I’d sorted most of it.
‘You really didn’t need to do this,’ Will said, pouring milk into a mug and handing it to Bonnie, who then put it into the microwave, Ernest gazing up at her adoringly, hoping a drop or three might spill. ‘The rule is whoever hosts the party does all the prep and clearing up.’
‘No one else is a single dad with three kids,’ I said, scrubbing a serving dish coated in dried-on gravy.
‘Okay, but please leave the rest,’ he said. ‘I’ll sort it once Bonnie’s in bed.’
I put the dish back into the sink, turning to face him as embarrassment heated my cheeks. ‘Have I overstepped? Everyone else has gone and you probably wanted a quiet house to sort your kids out and relax and here’s Alex, oblivious to the social cues, however blatant.’
‘No,’ Will said, smiling even as his forehead furrowed in protest. ‘I’m glad you stayed and genuinely grateful you cleaned my kitchen, which looks far better now than before the party, but have you got a long walk home? It’s starting to snow.’
‘Ah.’ I’d closed the blind over the kitchen sink, but moving to the back door and pressing my nose against the glass, I could see a good centimetre already settling on Will’s patio, the flakes coming thick and fast.
‘It took about forty minutes,’ I said. ‘But that was through the forest. I thought once it’s dark, it’ll be safer to walk back along the roads.’
‘Where’s your house?’ He handed Bonnie her warm milk. ‘Go and choose a story.’
She leant closer to her dad, huge blue eyes on me as she whispered, ‘I want Alex to read me my story.’
‘No, darling. Alex needs to get back to her house before the snow gets too deep.’
‘But I think Ernest really, really wants to hear Dogger. I think he will really like it because it has a dog in it, Daddy,’ she whispered with as much discretion as most six-year-olds.
‘I live on Robin’s Hill.’
Will frowned as he placed a hand on Bonnie’s shoulder and asked her to wait a minute, before resuming his conversation with me. ‘By the Green House?’