Chapter 34 #2
Frank had a small silver steam-train engine in his cracker.
He’d keep that, as a souvenir, but would he remember this Christmas with tears or smiles, he wondered.
Jane, remarkably, got a beautiful enamel orange with a loop at the top for a chain; it reminded her of the Christingle.
Henry got a four-leaf shamrock encased in a glass oval.
For luck. It made him smile because he had Irish blood running through his veins – and they were a very superstitious lot.
Grace was last to pull. Her novelty was a miniature nutcracker soldier with a moveable jaw.
In his red jacket, tall black hat and boots he looked very much like the two very large ones that stood sentry by the doors in the lounge.
Frank watched her studying it in the palm of her hand.
It was more nutcracker than soldier but he wondered if she would think it was another instance of the fates tormenting her, or if she’d remember instead ‘Sergeant Nutty’, the wooden Christmas hearth decoration they’d had when Billy was small and he’d laughed until he couldn’t get his breath at the ‘Nutty and Mummy’ show.
All Frank’s memories of his son were happy ones; Grace’s, however, circled the moment of his death on a continuous loop.
Vincent got up from the table to turn on the radio.
‘He’ll be having his dinner, Vince, leave him be,’ Roo called down.
‘Yeah, but he’ll have left his gentle sounds of yesteryear playing for his loyal listeners, won’t he, so shut up, you, and eat your sprouts.’
Sure enough, Brian had made sure his loyal listeners would be suitably entertained in his absence. Judy Garland was singing ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’.
‘I’ve always loved the words to this song,’ Jane mused. ‘Especially about being together through the years, if the fates allow. I must confess I was dreading this Christmas.’
‘The first one without Clifford,’ Grace said it for her.
A beat before she answered. ‘Yes.’ As if she had considered saying something else instead.
‘It’s just a shame that you won’t be with your stepson and you’ve got us instead,’ said Tim.
‘Trust me, I would much rather be here.’ Those two brandy eggnogs and champagne bubbles had gone straight to her tongue.
‘Oh blimey, Jane. He must be bad if that’s the case,’ said Vincent, with a cheeky chortle.
‘Is he, Jane?’ asked Roo, when Jane didn’t counter him.
‘Michael isn’t anything like his father, I’m afraid.
His mother ruined him, used him as a weapon when the marriage ended.
Clifford didn’t see him for many years, not for the want of trying.
He had to wait until the boy was an adult and by then the damage was done.
Clifford was denied being a positive influence on him.
They did build bridges, but… I never quite trusted him.
There was always something wily and manipulative about him.
He was very good at wrapping his father around his finger, playing the guilt card about him not being around to wheedle “overdue compensation” out of him…
’ Then Jane realised what she was saying and apologised.
Someone must have slipped some WD40 in her eggnog as well as the cognac.
‘Forgive me, I’m ruining lunch.’
Henry pressed on her shoulder, a gesture of comfort.
‘If anyone has any better stories, let’s hear them now.’
‘Nope, I’m already invested, Jane, I want to hear more about Michael the arsehole,’ said Roo through a mouthful of stuffing.
She was beyond intrigued. She’d had the son down as a junior Clifford, someone caring, who had stepped up to the plate to look after his stepmother in her twilight years, so Jane’s revelations were unexpected.
‘I wouldn’t know where to start. In my defence, I was grieving… at a very low ebb when I agreed to… Oh lord, what have I done?’ Jane’s cutlery clattered to her plate and her hands came up to her head. She looked so genuinely distressed that everyone stopped eating.
‘Now, come on, love, you’re among friends here,’ said Frank. ‘What have you done? Then we can help sort it out for you.’ His tone was so warm and kind which was, as Grace knew, his default.
They weren’t going to turn off the spotlight so Jane started to talk, though cursing herself for her wayward mouth.
‘The Rectory, where we lived, was always going to be too large for me by myself. I was expected to sell it, buy something small and give Michael his share of the proceeds. One day he will have it anyway, he has always made sure I know that the money I have is because of his father…’
‘Whoa… back that truck up,’ said Vincent. ‘Surely you were a partnership?’
‘Well, yes, that’s… right… I know this, but he had considerably more money than I when we got together.
In saying that, Michael’s had quite a lot from us.
We lent him the deposit for his house and we didn’t get it back, but in the end Clifford said he could keep it rather than it cause any upset.
Then his business went under and we helped with the debts…
he would have lost his home otherwise. It’s far too big for him and his wife really… ’
Frank raised his eyebrows. ‘Sounds like he’s had quite a bunce already.’
‘Yes, he has. We never argued, Clifford and I, but we came close over Michael and his… ventures. His father propped them up, every time with hope in his heart that they wouldn’t fail, but they always did. He has about as much acumen for business as I have for industrial welding.’
Henry gave her a gentle nudge. ‘I could actually see you as a welder, Jane. I reckon there’s not much you couldn’t do if you put your mind to it.’
‘Well, thank you, Henry, but even I have my limitations,’ said Jane, smiling, grateful that they were being kind to her.
‘So, if he’s such an entitled knob, how come you were spending Christmas with him? I mean, he’s not even blood, is he really?’ asked Roo.
‘Because I haven’t been thinking straight, Roo,’ Jane replied. ‘I’ve felt old and vulnerable without Clifford. And a little frightened. Michael’s been making me think too much about the future, about what I have to come…’
‘Sounds to me like he’s been working on you,’ said Tim. He was already building up a picture of this Michael and he wasn’t liking what he was hearing.
‘He suggested he turn the spare rooms he has into a flat and persuaded me that I should move in there with them. So I’ll be paying for it to be renovated with some of the monies from the house sale.
Like he said, I don’t really have many friends left in that area.
Some have moved in with their children, some have…
gone and so when Michael said that I’d be safe living in the house with them because old people living alone are sitting targets for burglars and…
worse, it seemed like a sensible option.
I’d have my own independence. I’m to rent the flat from—’
Elizabeth bounced in now.
‘Hang on. So you’re going to pay for the renovations and then he’s going to charge you rent, have I got that right?’
‘Yes, Elizabeth.’
‘Have you settled on a figure?’
‘Well, not yet… he’s been rather… evasive about it.’
‘I’ll bet,’ humphed Roo. ‘He’s put the fear of god into you about getting murdered if you don’t go and live with him.
He’s going to suck a load of dosh out of you and then slap you with a massive rent and you’re going to be trapped with them, aren’t you, because you’ll not have enough left to buy a place if you did change your mind.
If you ask me, he’s only invited you over for Christmas to make sure he can terrify you a bit more so you stump up. The snakey cock.’
‘Don’t hold back, Roo, say what you think,’ said Tim with some amusement. She really was like his Fleur, no-nonsense, open-hearted, principled. Although Fleur was somewhat lighter on the expletives.
‘As he says, though, it’s going to be his money one day anyway. And how long have I got left? At least I’d be supervised. I—’ Jane growled at herself. ‘I should never have drunk all those bloody eggs.’
‘Well, I’m glad you did,’ said Henry. ‘My dear Jane, I’ve known some crooks in my time but I think your stepson ranks quite highly among the worst of them. That money was left to you by your darling Clifford and therefore is yours to do with as you like.’
‘I can’t do what I’d like to do with it though. It’s too late.’
‘Which is what?’ asked Elizabeth, pretty sure that this Michael had attended the same school of coercive control as others she could mention.
‘You’ll think I’m a silly old woman.’
‘We’ll think you’re a silly old woman if you go and live with someone who’s waiting impatiently for you to kick the bucket,’ said Tim, pretty sure he was speaking for them all.
‘Clifford and I always wanted to do more travelling when he finally downed tools, but he was a victim of his own success and I didn’t mind, he loved his second-wind career.
But originally, we were going to sell the Rectory, get on a ship and go around the world and then get on another, or a plane or a… a train – ha.’
‘What’s stopping you doing that by yourself?’ asked Roo.
Jane dry-chuckled at the thought. ‘I’m not brave enough.’
‘You, after all you’ve survived?’ said Grace.
‘I always wanted to see the Taj Mahal but I won’t go now, of course. It’s a monument to eternal love and I don’t want to be there without him. I’d end up looking rather sad like Princess Diana did, all alone.’
‘Cruising is a nice safe way to travel.’
‘I’m eighty-one,’ said Jane.
‘So your travel insurance will be a bit hefty but sounds like you can afford it,’ Frank put in.
Roo, on an impulse, picked up the Christingle in front of her, blew out the candle and proceeded to squash it in her hand. The skin burst and the juice shot out onto her sprouts and down her arm.
‘This is your life, Jane, and you need to squeeze all the juice out of it that you can and keep squeezing because you haven’t exhausted your supply yet. You are way too young for a rocking chair and a crochet hook.’
She sounded wise beyond her years. Jane’s eyes framed the orange in Roo’s hand. Was she right? Then, feeling the intense heat from all this attention, she clicked out of the moment, picked up her cutlery.
‘Please, everyone, eat,’ she said. ‘It’s all too wonderful to go cold.’
They obeyed her but didn’t stop talking.
‘So, in an ideal world, where would you fancy going to most?’ Grace asked Jane.
‘I’d like to go back to Antarctica, that was a big one on our list because it was breathtaking.
But I’m also very fond of Europe. I think I know Venice more than many of the locals and it’s a place that is impossible to tire of.
There’s a world cruise starting in February, leaving from Southampton docks.
A hundred wonderful days. They still have available cabins, I tortured myself and looked.
I sometimes imagine that I’m about to do what we planned: sell up and be free.
’ She sighed. ‘I’ve more or less emptied the Rectory now.
Apart from essentials and Clifford’s books; those will be the hardest of all to let go of and I’m not quite ready for it yet. ’
‘You want to give those to Elizabeth,’ said Vincent, through a mouthful of parsnip. ‘She wants to set up a second-hand bookshop.’
‘Oh, Vincent, it won’t happ—’
Jane cut off her protest. ‘What a lovely idea, Elizabeth. You must tell me more about that before we get off the train.’
‘So, here’s the big question, Jane,’ began Frank, ‘do you really want to go to Lancaster when we start moving? Pretend you’re in court, I want to hear yes or no only.’
Jane took a breath, then answered. ‘No.’
‘Would you like to get on that ship in February?’
‘I can’t—’
‘Yes or no.’ Frank was firm.
‘Yes.’
‘If you didn’t go to Lancaster, would you have somewhere else to stay when your house sale finally goes through?’
‘I… No.’
‘Well, I’ve got an inn and if you want to stay with us until the ship leaves, you are very welcome, Jane. You can get one of them cruise buses to take you to Southampton. I know for a fact they leave from Norwich.’
‘We won’t ask you to renovate it before you move in either,’ said Grace, smiling at her and then glancing at Frank. He saw a flash of the old Grace there, the one with mischief in her eyes – he hadn’t seen her for a long time.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Jane, absolutely floored by their show of generosity.
‘Well, you think about it,’ said Frank. ‘But if you don’t say yes, you’re in big trouble.’
Jane burst into a flurry of tears, a short shower of them then recovered just as fast. ‘I feel as if a great huge boulder has moved from here.’ She pressed her stomach.
‘Happy Christmas, Jane,’ said Frank, holding up his glass. ‘And bon voyage when it comes.’