Chapter 20
‘It’s Christmas!’ Maisie and Rory burst into Ollie’s room at an abominable time on Christmas morning, and if they’re even vaguely surprised to find me curled up in bed with him, they don’t show it.
When we go downstairs, Clint’s twins are already running around like they’ve eaten sugar cubes for breakfast, and it isn’t long before everyone’s gathered in the entrance hall in their pyjamas, even though some of the pyjamas on display are designer branded and made of the finest satin, unlike my fleece gingerbread-men-covered ones.
Ollie’s hair is adorably rumpled. He’s wearing a dressing gown and has his arm around my shoulders and I’ve yet to let go of his hand. His smile is quite possibly the widest I’ve ever seen it, and there’s a sense of peace that I feel just from being near him.
The nicest thing is that everyone’s together.
All the guests brought their own presents for each other and put them under the entrance hall tree, and after the initial chaos of wrapping paper flying everywhere as the youngest kids found theirs, Maisie is proud to take over the handing out of presents while my mum and dad take the twins and Rocco outside to show them the glittery hoofprints and reindeer-chewed carrot tops that Hamish left on the driveway last night.
Now everyone’s settled in, it’s not unlike a huge, chaotic family Christmas, and seeing the magic through children’s eyes makes me feel like a kid again, and it obviously has the same effect on the other adults too.
When there’s mass confusion about why everyone’s got a slinky as a gift, Ollie explains the annual Hollybrae Castle slinky races, and the twins start doing practice runs on the stairs.
Jingling elf socks are pulled on immediately by children and adults, and the only person who complains about chocolate before breakfast is Nancy, who scolds everyone for spoiling their appetite, and then eats a chocolate or two herself anyway.
All sense of peace evaporates as we start preparing the dinner.
Me and Ollie, Nancy, Hamish, and my mum and dad all gather in the kitchen.
Thankfully Nancy’s done as much prep as possible in advance, but it’s still bedlam.
There’s turkey, there’s chicken, there are vegetarian options, and gluten-free options, and Yorkshire puddings, and every vegetable that’s ever been invented in every feasible way it’s ever been cooked from roast potatoes to mashed potatoes to toffee parsnips to Brussels sprouts, and then the ginormous chocolate trifle Nancy’s made for dessert.
I might’ve been shocked to see my mum and dad on Tuesday, but now I’m so glad they’re here because we would never have managed without them, and with so many hands on deck, the hectic cooking time goes faster than expected, and my mum’s like a human oven timer who somehow manages to ensure everything comes out exactly when it should do.
When we sit down to dinner, the table in the grand dining hall is the length of a bus, and I’m seated at one end of it like the lady of the household, and Ollie’s at the other end, the master of the house.
Christmas carols are playing softly in the background, and everyone has stayed in casual clothes.
Even our most uptight guests haven’t changed out of their pyjamas, and everyone’s wearing their elf socks.
Before we eat, Dand asks if we can all share something we’re thankful for.
He raises his glass to both ends of the table.
‘I’m thankful to our hosts, Oliver and Lucy, who have so generously opened their home and hearts to us this year, and made us feel like part of a family, something that’s sorely missing from our usual Christmases. Happy Christmas to all!’
Everyone echoes similar sentiments, and when it’s my turn, there’s only one person I can possibly thank for how wonderful he’s made this month.
‘I’m thankful for my beautiful Ollie, who makes every day better just by existing, and who makes my heart feel like it’s soaring…
’ My eyes are on his as I speak. His hands are clasped together and the smile on his face is a sight to behold, although I quickly make a non-suspicious amendment. ‘Still, even after all these years.’
‘Only you can follow that one, Oliver.’ Even though it’s not Ollie’s turn, Dand makes sure he goes next.
‘I’m thankful to the girl who makes this cold old castle feel like the warmest, most welcoming home.
The girl I’ve been falling for since the day I met her.
I don’t know how I got so lucky.’ The way he’s looking at me makes my heart feel like it’s leapt into my throat, and I’m certain there’s not a word of a lie in those words.
Instead of stopping there, Ollie stands up and his feet jingle as he walks the length of the table. ‘In fact, if you’ll excuse me, the thing I’m most thankful for is being able to give my wife a hug on Christmas Day.’
He crouches beside my chair and wraps his arms around me in the tightest squeeze, and I go from being hyperaware of everyone’s eyes on us to losing myself in his embrace, dinner and guests forgotten for a fleeting moment.
His mouth finds mine and presses an all-too-brief kiss to my lips, and I can feel how much he has to force himself to pull back, a hand on my knee with one final squeeze as he uses it to push himself up, and that certainty comes again as he walks back to his seat. That wasn’t pretending.
‘Awww!’ Orla looks like she’s just witnessed a proposal. ‘You two are inspirational. To still be so in love after all these years…’
‘Yeah, anyone would think they’d only just met,’ Clint says loudly, which breaks through the haze of loveliness that Ollie’s words had left me in.
My mum takes over quickly. ‘We’re thankful for such a lovely son-in-law who lets us come on holiday to this gorgeous place any time we like, free of charge.’
Ollie laughs and raises his wine glass to her, even though she’s probably already planning their holidays for the next three years.
‘I’m thankful our daughter has found someone who makes her so happy.’ My dad raises his glass to Ollie and then to me, and the look in his eyes makes me start to well-up. That’s not pretending either.
‘Know what I’m grateful for?’ It’s Clint’s turn to sip his wine. ‘A real loving wife, who’s always there for me, not just at Christmas.’
Dand and Halston give him a curious look, and I catch Ollie’s eyes because my suspicions are confirmed. He’s onto us.
I scan through the castle in my mind because he must be looking for evidence to confirm his suspicions, but our bedroom doors are locked and no one’s pressed the wedding photos issue.
Ollie’s clearly doing the same thing, but surely there’s nothing he can find, no matter how much poking around he does.
The rest of the gratitudes pass and dinner is started with a slew of appreciative noises.
Silence falls around the table and everyone loads their plates up, and I look between Ollie, and Nancy and Hamish, watching silently with matching smiles on their faces.
A big Christmas at Hollybrae Castle is something that’s been missing for many years, and I’m grateful to have been even a small part of recreating that.
Dand is sitting to my left and he’s unable to resist work talk for long. ‘Your home is lovely, Lucy, I’m surprised you’re happy to leave it and move down to London should Oliver get the promotion…’
It’s a leading question and it sounds like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to ask it. I know from my chat with the girls yesterday what’s expected of me – the strong, supportive wife and loving parent who wouldn’t dream of putting up any fuss.
‘It’ll be a bit of a disruption for the children, but you know how kids are, they’ll adapt soon enough. It’s all a new adventure, and there’ll be weekends and holidays when we can come home.’
I don’t expect Dand to laugh quite so raucously.
‘Oliver will be working so hard that there won’t be any weekends, and certainly no holidays.
To take on the start-up of a new branch, a new era of the firm no less, is not to run off home for holidays every few minutes.
Once the branch is established, maybe two to three years from now, there will be time for holidays, although probably not weekends, to be fair. My wife can attest to that!’
I catch Ollie’s eyes across the table again, probably ensuring he knows that he’s the topic of conversation down this end, but really I’m trying to hide how sick I suddenly feel.
If it was a job Ollie loved, that would be one thing, but it isn’t, and the thought of him working even more than he does currently isn’t a good one.
I swallow hard. ‘I’m a firm believer in not crossing any bridges until we come to them, and he hasn’t got the job yet so we’ll figure it out if he does.’
‘Between you and me, my biggest concern about choosing Oliver was simply his young age, but seeing your wonderful home and delightful family, it’s clear that age is nothing but a number and he’s got all the support he needs behind him right here.’
‘Of course.’ I nod, but nothing takes away the edgy feeling that pervades the rest of our Christmas meal.
After dinner, Rory announces it’s time for the annual Hollybrae Castle slinky races and rattles off the rules like a veteran of a tradition that didn’t exist until he and Ollie made it up a couple of weeks ago.
Despite complaints that they’re too full after dinner, each family has a race between themselves, with Nancy and Hamish deployed as anti-cheat adjudicators to make sure no slinkys are subject to any extra encouragement, and then the winners from each family take on each other in a grand finale.
It’s basically Gladiators without the skimpy Lycra.
It makes me unreasonably happy to see everyone joining in. The three wives, their troubles momentarily forgotten because of the rainbow plastic toys, even the very serious Dand and Halston are merrily cheering slinkys on, and Clint forgets himself and has a good time too.
In the Bracewell family race, Maisie and I start at the first floor on one side of the castle and Ollie and Rory start on the other, and our slinkys have to gain enough momentum to round the corner of the first landing and make it back down to the entrance hall.
Somehow, mine wins, after Maisie’s crashes into a wall, Rory’s takes a left turn and gets stuck between baluster posts, and Ollie’s just isn’t fast enough. The final battle is between me, Mira, Halston, Orla, and one of Clint’s twins.
‘Do it for the Bracewells!’ Ollie, Maisie, and Rory are cheering me on from the bottom of the stairs as the racers accompany our slinkys from the top, urging them onwards.
Mira’s stalls on the landing corner, and Halston’s twists around itself and curls up and Rory decrees that stopping to untangle it is grounds for immediate disqualification.
On the final leg, it’s just me, Orla, and a twin in the race.
Mine is last, but it doesn’t stop my pretend family and my real parents cheering like I’ve won a bronze Olympic medal.
Ollie goes in for a victory hug as I reach the bottom step, but his foot slips and we tumble backwards and land in an ungainly heap in the bottom corner of the stairs.
I make sure he’s okay and go to get up, but his arms tighten around me, like not even falling over is going to deter him from the hug.
‘I think that might be the most fun I’ve ever had.’ I lean my head back against his shoulder.
‘We’re going to have to do this again next year then, aren’t we?’ His mouth moves against my ear, and I feel like I’m still tumbling downwards at the implication of what he might mean.
‘I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun!’ Orla is breathless from laughing, and Dand slings an arm around her shoulders and they share the kind of look I don’t think they’ve shared for a very long time.
‘You okay down there, Oliver?’ Dand peers down at us.
‘The best I’ve ever been.’
I can’t see his face, but I can hear the smile colouring his voice.
‘Talk about the best Christmas ever. Can we come back next year? How much would you charge to make this an annual thing?’
Ollie laughs like Dand is joking, but it’s yet another hint that people would pay to spend this kind of unpressured, uninterrupted time with their families at this time of year.
‘You’d all be welcome anytime,’ I say only half-jokingly, because honestly, if we had to pull this off again next year, I’d be very on board with that.
Ollie lets out a happy-sounding sigh when they walk away and his arms tighten around me. ‘This is exactly how Christmas should be.’
‘Crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs with your arms around someone who’s not your wife?’ I tilt my head until I can whisper next to his ear.
‘Exactly.’ He plants a kiss on my cheek with a loud ‘mwah’. ‘You were right about the slinkys and the elf socks. I should never have doubted you.’
‘What if I’m right about other things too?’
Before he has a chance to answer, Rory appears in our topsy-turvy line of sight. ‘You old folks need help getting up?’
‘Old!’ Ollie laughs. ‘We’re gonna stay here a minute.’
‘Ol, you’re upside down, legs akimbo, head crushed into the wall with me on top of you!’
‘Exactly. I’ve got you in my arms, so I’m comfortable.’ His arms tighten around me again, and if I wasn’t already lying on the floor, I’d have melted onto it by now.
Maisie lets out a squeal. ‘Group hug!’
We both let out an ‘oof’ as Maisie and Rory hurl themselves on top of us, and Ollie opens his arms to both of them and embraces all of us.
‘Pile on!’ one of the twins yells and before we know it, both the boys and Rocco are hurling themselves at us too, and Ollie laughs and tries to scramble out of the way, but it’s too late and he’s soon lying at the bottom of a pile of elated children.
Dand and Halston are watching on and I see the look that passes between them.
Ollie’s got this job. He’s exactly the kind of family man they want.
My heart sinks. It should make me feel good, but it does the opposite.
After all, that was the one and only goal of this whole pretence.
If we’ve achieved that, why does it feel so bloody bad?