Chapter 31
Darya took one look at me when I shuffled into her kitchenette and chose the Advent Challenge word for the day as HEALTHY.
‘Is that meant to be amusing?’ I grumbled, gratefully accepting a mug of super-strong coffee that she’d snuck down and made in Tucker’s new machine.
‘We only have two words left. Would you prefer romantic?’
‘Ugh. Is it really Christmas Eve already?’ I sank onto her breakfast bar stool and buried my face in my arms. Today would be enough of a challenge without dragging a hangover and freshly broken heart along with me.
‘It is. I’m heading to Lola’s for a single girls’ Christmas film, pizza and chocolate festival. We didn’t invite you because we were hoping you wouldn’t be single, but maybe it would be just what you need today.’
Every one of my body parts groaned in longing.
‘We’re wearing pyjamas again. Fluffy ones,’ Darya continued. ‘Starting out with a pancake brunch.’
‘Are you trying to torture me?’
‘You think it sounds like torture?’ Darya sniffed. ‘I’m really looking forward to it. Lola says she’s bringing in a couple of duvets so it’s comfier if we fancy a snooze. It is going to be our sworn Christmas Eve tradition, even if either of us ends up married or she has kids one day.’
I twisted my head to look at her. ‘I’m spending the day with my parents, for what a psychiatrist such as yourself would probably class as the least healthy day possible.
Ten minutes of pretending we’re almost normal, followed by ten hours of all-out family war.
Verbal grenades, sniping, random bitterness bombshells. ’
‘Why on earth would you subject yourself to that?’
‘So I get to open presents and play games with the kids, ensure I’m a precious part of their Christmas memories and can then spend a guilt-free Christmas Day blissfully alone.’
‘Well, I can only wish you the very best of luck. Message me if it all gets too much, but bear in mind I might not answer if I’m snoozing.’
After sticking to the slow lane the whole way to Crandon, my eyes squinting against the crisp December sunlight, I arrived just before midday.
It still felt surreal, walking into a living room with space for everyone to sit down, a cute tree and other decorations.
Mum woke up when the kids rushed over to engulf me and Ernest in hugs.
Lacey was curled up in an armchair, wearing a sparkly green minidress with slipper socks.
‘Where’s Dad?’ I asked once the children had followed Bronte into the kitchen to ‘help’ make me a mug of tea.
Lacey shrugged. ‘In bed.’
‘Right.’
Dad only slept in this late after binge drinking.
‘How are you doing?’ I asked, as if she hadn’t hung up on me two days ago.
My sister scowled. ‘Mostly, I’m not in the mood for emotional heart-to-hearts, hearing other people’s opinions or anything else that reminds me of the current craphole I’ve fallen into. Can we just agree to get through today, preferably without too much bloodshed?’
I nodded. ‘Absolutely. I’ll unload the car.’
By the time we’d ferried in bags of food and bulging stockings, Mum was asking whether her own daughters were too busy to make their sick mother lunch on Christmas Eve.
I’d brought a load of cold buffet food, because I couldn’t face prepping anything with my dregs of a hangover.
We’d be ordering curry for five-thirty and the children were delighted with a ‘party lunch’, loading up plates with at least one of everything, apart from Lennon who took eight sausage rolls and one ready salted crisp.
Mum, of course, was outraged that we’d ‘skimped’ on her plate, seeing as Dad wasn’t there to ensure she got what she wanted.
‘Why haven’t I got any pork pies? Starting me on a starvation diet at Christmas?’
It turned out that since my simmering resentment had boiled over during our last conversation, allowing Lacey to get through the day didn’t mean I could ignore my mother being obnoxious.
‘Sorry I couldn’t cram one onto the plate along with everything else you demanded.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Mum asked, but her tone had lost its edge. She was unsure of this new, outspoken Alex.
‘Sorry. Was I not clear? You’re supposed to be on a restricted diet.
We all wish you at least tried to stick to it, for your own sake way more than ours.
Weirdly, we sort of still want you to be here next year.
However, in respecting your wishes to eat stuff that makes you feel terrible, I have handed you a plate piled with food, that I bought and everyone else helped set out.
Instead of saying thank you, you’ve been rude.
It’s not okay. Why can’t you say, “That’s lovely, thank you, but I was really looking forward to a pork pie, if you don’t mind? ”’
Mum pushed out her bottom lip. ‘If anybody had bothered to wake your dad up, he’d have used my big plate. I hate these ones.’
The rest of the day carried on in much the same way. Lacey eventually banged on Dad’s bedroom door until he shuffled out, eyes bloodshot, sour booze seeping from his pores.
We opened presents. Mum and Dad had gone to town on the kids, getting each of them a chocolate selection box and a small present, which was one present more than the box of Matchmaker chocolates they usually bought their own children, and two more than they’d given us this year.
I had agonised about my sister’s gift. For a while, I considered buying her and the kids a couple of days away.
A magical trip they could treasure in the years ahead.
Except that they didn’t exactly thrive away from home.
In the end, I got her a small photo album, filling the first half with pictures of our family.
I added a note after the last photograph – one of them in Bigley Country Park – saying that the second half was empty of images, but full of hope, for all the memories they would add in the future.
She handed me a folder, telling me she was banking on me never needing it, but if I did, even though it wasn’t the fanciest of gifts, it would hopefully prove priceless.
It was full of advice and information about the children.
What food Lennon ate, how to stop Harley throwing up when he got overexcited.
The story Kaylynn wanted when she felt poorly.
‘What are you talking about, you hope I never need it?’ I asked, feigning gross offence.
‘Even if we all agree that sleepovers at Auntie Alex’s house are off the cards for the foreseeable, there’s nothing to stop me coming here for the weekend while you take yourself off to a spa hotel.
Now I’m not running my own business, I’ll be constantly bugging you to babysit. ’
As for Mum and Dad, what did you buy someone hellbent on self-destruction?
I’d tried giving them things I believed would help them too many times to bother any more.
Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to give them what they’d want – alcohol, cigarettes or even better, cold hard cash.
I did consider buying them a night or two away, with the ulterior motive that it gave Lacey and the kids some time at home without them.
I looked at something they’d find hard to resist like horse racing or sitting in a quiz show audience.
However, seeing Mum’s mottled complexion, how even talking rendered her short of breath, I knew she’d never have managed it even if I had found enough incentive for her to get out the house.
Instead, I gave Mum a fluffy dressing gown to replace her filthy one, and Dad a pair of good-quality jeans, which he at least had the manners to say thank you for, even if the look on his face suggested they’d be listed on Vinted by Boxing Day.
Lacey and I snuck upstairs to video-call Blake while the others were still finishing the Indian feast. He didn’t answer – he never did, even though we arranged it every year.
However, we filmed ourselves wishing him the best day, gave him cheery updates on the kids along with a couple of funny stories, adding how I was taking some time off work to consider a new direction, and Lacey was thinking about getting a job.
We didn’t mention our parents or Lacey’s arrest, because he’d escaped to the literal furthest place on the planet he could to avoid Nixon drama. Especially this time of year.
He would message us later, probably send a photo of whatever beach he was barbecuing on. Maybe include a gorgeous woman whose name we wouldn’t bother to remember because she’d be gone by the next time we contacted him.
‘I have never been more jealous of my baby brother,’ Lacey said once we’d pressed send.
‘Do you think the kids would like New Zealand?’
She sighed. ‘I think that’s irrelevant, because we’d never survive the plane journey.’
‘So last-minute absconding is off the cards, then.’
Before she could reply, Kaylynn came bursting into Lacey’s bedroom.
‘Harley broke the head off my doll! He said it was too ugly.’
‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ Lacey said, shooing her daughter back out.
Rather than telling me off for bringing up the forbidden topic of conversation, Lacey had something else on her mind.
‘How awful does Mum look?’
‘On a scale of one to calling 999, I’d say about 920.’
She gave a grim nod. ‘I don’t know what to do. It’s so horrible to live with. Seeing her get worse and worse.’
‘What does Dad say?’
‘It might not be my problem after Tuesday, so I can stop going on about it and worry about my own life.’
‘Ugh.’ I shook my head in disgust. ‘How do you stand it?’
‘More to the point, how are you going to? It’ll be hard enough for everyone without constant fighting between you three.’
‘I know.’ I took hold of her hand. ‘I’m genuinely going to try my absolute best. But, honestly, Lacey, I can’t see how Mum’s deterioration isn’t going to end up another tragedy the kids have to deal with.’
She was quiet for a moment. ‘It’s my name on the lease.’
‘Yeah.’