Christmas Cakes and Mistletoe Nights

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘When? How? What happened?’ I’m trying to stop my chin hitting the rather soggy floor.

  ‘How you think?’ Lija gives me her trademark scowl. ‘Usual way. Shagshagshag.’

  ‘But who with?’

  ‘Man on canal boat. Like Danny, but total shit.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘We did it here on table. Many times.’

  I take my elbows off said table.

  ‘While I was baking cupcakes,’ she wails. ‘I had buttercream where buttercream should not be.’

  I didn’t really need that image. ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘Gone.’ She shrugs. ‘Long gone. Good riddance to bad rubbish.’ Lija puts her head in her hands. ‘Shit. Now I am making silly sayings.’

  ‘You loved him?’

  Lija snorts. ‘What is love?’

  ‘Oh, Lija.’ I go to hug her, but she holds up a hand.

  ‘No hugging,’ she snaps.

  ‘Well. There’s only one thing for it, then.’ I revert to the typical British response in times of crisis. ‘I think this requires more tea.’ I make another pot even though I’ve just had three cups and all my insides are glugging with it.

  I’m trying to stay calm for both of us, but my mind is whirring, whirring. I hadn’t seen this one coming at all. Lija hasn’t been quite herself since I’ve been here, but I thought it was because she was under pressure from running the café and paying the mortgage. I never imagined that she’d be pregnant. Neither did she, it seems.

  When I’ve poured us out two more cups, Lija nurses hers to her chest. I feel that I daren’t ask anything more.

  ‘He was here two weeks, maybe three,’ she says when she has finally managed to compose herself. ‘All dreadlocks, torn T-shirts and six-pack.’ She makes another disdainful noise. ‘He fixed fence. Mowed lawn. Usual stuff.’

  ‘He sounds nice.’ Just like Danny. Apart from the dreadlocks.

  I get The Look. ‘You are unbelievable.’

  ‘You didn’t even mention him to me.’ I feel slightly put out by that as I thought we talked about everything. Well, in the way that Lija does. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Mog.’

  ‘Short for?’

  Lija frowns. ‘Mog.’

  ‘Oh, cool. Do you know where he is now?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Then she bursts into tears again. ‘He said he needed to move on and went. Just like that.’ She clicks her fingers crossly.

  ‘You’ve not got a mobile number for him?’

  She nods, then wipes her nose on the back of her hand. ‘He is not answering.’

  Despite her previous protest, I move round to her side of the table and put my arms round her thin shoulders. She doesn’t object. I give her the clean tissue from my pocket. ‘Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It will be all right.’

  ‘How?’ she cries. ‘I have no money. No man. No family. How will be all right?’

  ‘You have us,’ I remind her. ‘We’ll help.’

  ‘You are off on boat. How will that help?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘Not yet. It’s a lot to take in. But we’ll work something out.’

  She cries some more. ‘What I am going to do?’

  ‘You’re absolutely sure that you’re pregnant?’

  ‘Of course. Have done dozen tests,’ she spits. ‘Maybe more. All say same thing.’

  ‘You didn’t use any … er … protection?’ I mouth the last word.

  Lija shoots me a death stare. ‘I am not stupid woman.’

  I suppose these things aren’t foolproof. ‘Accidents happen,’ I offer meekly.

  ‘Yes. They fucking do,’ Lija snaps.

  ‘You’ve not seen a doctor yet?’ She shakes her head. ‘We’ll have to sort that out then. Do you know how far gone you are?’

  ‘Eleven weeks. Or twelve. Not sure.’

  So it was literally just after Danny and I had left. I wonder why she didn’t tell me? She told me that it hadn’t worked out with Ashley – who seemed so nice – for whatever reason, but she didn’t say a word about anyone else. Perhaps she was feeling lonely and vulnerable as it’s not like Lija to be taken in so easily.

  ‘The baby is definitely Mog’s?’

  ‘Of course. Who else?’

  ‘Ashley’s?’ I venture hesitantly.

  Lija’s shoulders sag. ‘Is Mog’s. We had one shag, one – maybe two – without condom.’

  ‘Oh, Lija.’

  ‘Do not “Oh, Lija”,’ she mimics. ‘I know. I know. I missed two, three periods, but tried to ignore it.’ She holds up a hand. ‘Denial, whatever. Is very nice place to be.’

  ‘So how long have you known?’

  ‘Just before you came back.’

  Yet she kept it to herself. Bless. She must have been terrified. I have to ask another tricky question, although I’m sure that I already know the answer. ‘You’re definitely planning on keeping the baby?’

  ‘Yes! Is baby. My baby. How can I do anything else?’

  ‘I only wanted to check that you’d considered other options. There’s still time.’

  ‘I am keeping baby.’ Her little face is set in grim determination which makes me smile.

  ‘Good to hear it,’ I say. ‘All we need to do now then is make a plan.’

  She risks a teary smile. ‘I like sound of plan. But is terrible time. I have café to run, loan to repay.’

  ‘There’s never a good time to have a baby.’ I try to sound reassuring. ‘If you thought about all the pros and cons, then you’d never do it.’ Though I’d rather Lija was in a settled relationship with a regular income, I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out. People do, don’t they? She’s not the first young woman to find herself in this situation and I’m sure she won’t be the last. ‘This isn’t the best of circumstances …’

  ‘Huh. Tell me about it, wise woman.’

  ‘But we’ll get through it. Somehow.’ She looks sceptical. ‘We will. And there’ll be no more lifting rockery stones or sofas for you, young lady.’ I can’t believe she did that in her condition. Part of her may well still be in denial about what the future holds. ‘You’ve not told Stan or Rainbow yet?’

  ‘No.’

  At that moment, Rainbow bounces back into the kitchen. ‘You’ve not told me what?’

  I look at Lija for approval to spill the beans and she nods. ‘Lija’s going to have a baby.’

  ‘OMG!!! Squeeeeeee!’ Rainbow squeaks, even though the words are hardly out of my mouth. She does a little happy dance on the spot, jumping up and down, making her boobs and her curls bob alarmingly. ‘AWESOME!! A baby! A FREAKING baby! Can I babysit? Can I babysit? Can I be Auntie Rainbow? Can I? Can I? I’ve never been anyone’s auntie before! OMG! It’s going to be a girl, I know it. AWESOME. I can buy her unicorn slippers and stuff from Frozen and EVERYTHING. We can put make-up on together! OMG! This is going to be AMAZING.’ Rainbow runs round the kitchen fanning herself and then she remembers to hug Lija, who looks quite startled.

  ‘Well, someone’s happy,’ I say. ‘Think you could risk doing a little celebrating yourself?’

  Lija tries a weak laugh and snot bubbles come out of her nose. However, her eyes are brighter and some of the strain has gone from her face. Rainbow contains her excitement enough to have a group hug and, despite my best assurances, I wonder exactly how we are going to cope with this.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I call the insurance company for Lija who will only speak to me after she’s confirmed that I can sort this out for her. After that I contact the local doctors’ surgery to register her. They tell me that she can download a form from their website and drop it in. I make an appointment for her. Rainbow is phoning round, explaining to the customers what has happened and trying to rebook their afternoon teas for next week when, by the love of God, we’ll be up and running again.

  Lija is still sitting at the kitchen table looking as if she’s been poleaxed. I’m glad to be giving he
r good news. ‘The insurance company are going to arrange for dehumidifiers and something that circulates air to dry the place out. They should be delivered later today and the assessor will be with us this afternoon too.’ Can’t beat that for service. I check my list. ‘Plus you’re booked in with the doctor next week for your first check-up.’ I feel a flutter of excitement for her. A baby at Canal House. It’s a long, long time since that happened. In fact, Edie was the last little one and it will be so nice to have a child here again. Then I realise that I very much sound like I’m planning on staying.

  ‘Thank you, Fay.’ In a rare burst of gratitude, she says, ‘I do not know how I would manage without you.’

  ‘Well, you won’t have to.’

  ‘Seems very real now I have said it out loud,’ she admits. Her hand goes to her stomach and she strokes it. There’s very little evidence of a bump, or I would have noticed, but there’ll be one there soon enough.

  ‘Shall we tell, Stan? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. It will give him a nice boost.’

  ‘OK. Cat is out of bag as English person would say.’

  I laugh at that. ‘Do you want to come with me while I take him his breakfast?’ I’ve already made up a little feast in the lunch box for him. I’m hoping that Stan has slept peacefully through the flooding and that he’s been safe and sound in his house.

  She pushes away from the table and puts her coat on. I hate the way she looks so drawn and burdened with worry. I link my arm through hers and we head towards Stan’s house. The cold air makes us both wince and Lija pulls her coat tighter. The ground is still sodden and I have everything crossed that there’s no more rain or we’ll be in big trouble again. Surely, there can’t be any more rain in the sky. It feels as if we’ve had a year’s worth overnight. Thankfully, the forecast is for dry weather, but the temperatures are dropping steadily. If this freezes, then it will be like a skating rink out here. Just perfect for a ninety-three-year-old man and a pregnant lady.

  I hold Lija more tightly and she turns to me, a tear rolling down her cheek.

  ‘This is your first baby,’ I say. ‘You should be enjoying the experience. You need to be relaxing, not stressing.’

  ‘Yes, excellent idea,’ she says disdainfully, brushing aside her tear.

  ‘Perhaps we could find a pregnancy yoga class for you?’

  She looks at me, horrified. ‘Fuck off.’

  Ah, that’s the Lija I know and love.

  ‘You’ll have to stop swearing when you have a baby,’ I say. ‘You don’t want his or her first word to be a four-letter one. Unless it’s Mama.’

  Lija bites back another expletive with a ‘Grrrr’. There’s fear in her eyes when she adds, ‘Everything will be different.’

  ‘It will,’ I agree with an excited squeeze of her arm. ‘But in a good way.’

  I shout a tentative ‘Hello!’ to Stan. Loud enough for him to hear, but not too loud in case he’s still asleep. When he shouts back, I go and put the kettle on. I know it sounds silly, but every day that he’s here feels like a bonus. I’m finding it hard to relax and accept that Stan is actually much better now.

  Lija sets out his breakfast on a tray – a little bowl of fruit, two warm croissants with a pot of strawberry jam and some unsalted butter. I add a cup of tea and then we climb the stairs together.

  Stan is sitting up in bed reading, a multicoloured shawl draped around his shoulders. He’s drawn the curtains and I look out of the window to check the damage to his garden. It doesn’t look too bad. The water has obviously come halfway up Stan’s garden too, given the line of weeds and detritus it’s dumped, but has receded now.

  I take his book from him and place the tray across his knees. Lija perches on the end of his bed. ‘Nice warm croissants, old man.’

  ‘Lovely,’ he says. ‘My favourite.’

  ‘You survived the storm intact?’ I ask. ‘No leaks or anything?’

  Stan shakes his head. ‘Not as far as I’m aware. I was as snug as a bug in a rug, but it sounded terrible out there,’ he notes as he tucks in. ‘Everything all right with your house and the boats?’

  ‘Not so great,’ I admit. ‘I haven’t yet had a chance to check the boats, but Danny’s down there now. Hopefully, they’re OK. We did, however, spend all night clearing up in the house.’ I can’t stifle the yawn that comes. ‘There was water everywhere, coming up through the floor even. We had a right night of it.’

  ‘Oh, goodness,’ Stan says. ‘I nearly got up in the wee small hours to come over to see what was happening. The rain sounded biblical. I was very worried about how you were all coping.’

  ‘I’m glad you didn’t. You might have been swept away into the canal. Still, it can all be mended and the insurance company have it in hand now. They’ve been great. We’ve had to cancel the customers for the next few days, but we’re hoping that the café will be up and running again as soon as possible. So long as we don’t have any more rain.’

  Stan reaches out a bony hand to Lija and I’m heartened to see that she takes it without flinching. ‘You poor girl. No wonder you look so exhausted.’

  I realise that I have yet to tell him about Lija’s announcement and must do so straight away. ‘Well … that’s not the only reason Lija’s tired. We also have some better news.’ I give an encouraging nod, prompting her.

  For a minute I think Lija’s going to keep her lips sealed but then she looks at me uncertainly and blurts out, ‘Am having bloody baby.’

  ‘A baby?’ Stan says in awe.

  ‘Yes. Screaming, pooing baby.’

  Now Stan tears up and starts me off again. Stan and I have a good blub. I pass him a clean handkerchief from his bedside table and he dabs his eyes.

  ‘Everyone is crying,’ Lija complains, crying. ‘Stop it.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news,’ Stan says. ‘Wonderful. I do like a baby.’

  ‘You will be sort of grandad, I suppose,’ Lija says, grudgingly. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Stan looks thrilled. ‘I should say so.’

  ‘You’ll be excellent grandad material, Stan.’ I squeeze his hand.

  ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’ He is beside himself with joy. ‘And when can we expect this lovely new arrival?’

  Lija shrugs. ‘I do not know. I will have to check with doctor. Next spring?’

  ‘A spring baby,’ Stan says. ‘How lovely. I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. Did I miss something?’

  ‘I do not have boyfriend,’ she snaps. ‘Is big problem.’

  ‘Is small problem,’ I correct. ‘We’ll sort it out.’

  Lija tuts.

  ‘It’s very modern,’ Stan says. ‘Was it that nice boy Mog? I liked him.’

  ‘You like everyone, old man!’

  ‘You liked him too,’ Stan observes. ‘I might miss a lot, but I didn’t miss that.’

  Lija shuts up.

  ‘He might come back,’ I offer.

  ‘He won’t,’ she snaps.

  There’s no point arguing. Even if he does by some chance come back, he may not be interested in his new-found status of impending parenthood.

  I take Stan’s tray now that he’s finished with his breakfast. ‘I’ll send Danny up to give you a bath and a shave soon. Even though we’re in a bit of a mess, do you want to come to the house for lunch today?’

  ‘I could do with a little walk,’ Stan says. ‘Stretch my legs. If it’s not too much trouble.’

  ‘I’ll come for you. It will depend on whether all the water has gone from the kitchen floor. But, all being well, we’ll see you later then. Make sure you put some sturdy shoes on. Wellies if you’ve got them.’

  ‘Very well done, Lija,’ Stan says. ‘Clever girl.’

  ‘Nothing clever about finding yourself with bun in oven,’ she mutters crossly.

  Her turn of phrase makes me smile. Lija has obviously decided if you can’t beat them, join them. Then she stomps downstairs after me, swearing under her breath.

  As we head ba
ck to the house, I ask, ‘Can you do without me for an hour? I could do with going to go back to The Dreamcatcher to freshen up.’

  ‘Yeah. Sure.’

  ‘I won’t be long. As soon as I’m back we’ll start on the cleaning. I don’t want you touching anything heavy.’

  ‘I will sit here and cry.’

  Kissing her forehead, I say, ‘I don’t want you to do that either. Try to relax. Go and have a little lie down or a nice bath. I’ll be back before you know it.’

  ‘Maybe I will do some mummy yoga,’ she sneers.

  ‘Great idea.’ I grin at her, glad that she’s getting her spark back.

  I don’t recognise some of the words that follow me as I walk down the garden. Some of them I do. Ouch. We’re definitely going to have to work on her language or she’s going to have the worst potty-mouthed kid on the planet.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Danny is coming out of the shower, towel low round his hips. I resist the urge to relieve him of it. He musses his wet hair. That’s him styled for the day.

  ‘Was everything all right here?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Amazingly so. We’ve got a tight little ship. There don’t seem to be any leaks at all.’

  ‘And the Maid of Merryweather?’

  He frowns at me. ‘She hasn’t fared so well.’

  I sigh. ‘Shall we go and examine the damage now?’

  ‘Have your shower first. You look all in.’

  ‘No doubt I smell of swamp water too.’

  ‘And I thought it was Chanel No 5.’ He grabs me round the waist and kisses me. ‘You still feel good even though you smell like Stig of the Dump.’

  ‘You and your Irish charm.’

  ‘It’s not going to get me anywhere today, right?’

  ‘Absolutely. I’m going straight back up to the house to help Lija clear up. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can book the customers in again. Assuming they’ll risk rebooking. It’s awful to have to let down people who want to enjoy their Christmas celebrations.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll understand. People often rally round when this sort of thing happens. We can’t be the only ones affected. I’ll walk into town and see what sort of damage has been done there. I’ll order some more sand and bags too – just in case.’