‘Oh really? Well, you can always come to ours – Colin’s buying enough to see us through to next Christmas –’
‘Mum,’ I call through the giggles that follow, trying to get her attention once more.
‘Yes, dear?’ she eventually answers.
‘I’ve got to get started here – but I’ll see you around seven.’
‘OK, love. Don’t forget – just give us a buzz if you need us.’
‘Will do, Mum. Send my love to June,’ I say before hanging up.
* * *
Donned in fluffy red Christmas hats to complete the festive look (Billy’s idea – he whipped them out of his bag as soon as I got off the phone to Mum), the hours whizz by in a blur as we turn on the Christmas tunes and sing along to Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, Michael Bublé and many more. I can’t help but feel like one of Santa’s little helpers as we cheerily decorate the Christmas tree, sprinkle fake snow all around us and crack on with our list of tasks. Every time I look at Billy I can’t help but smile; more than ever my little shop exuberates love and romance, making me excited for our Christmas in Rosefont Hill, and our future together. I’m overcome with a feeling of completeness.
By 6:55pm we’re done. Well, I’m mostly done – being the perfectionist that I am means that I can always find something to faff over. Is a job ever really finished? Is it? Not in my world.
‘This looks incredible!’ beams Billy as he looks around at our handiwork, placing his hand on the small of my back and gently stroking it up and down.
I stop playing with the plate of Christmas-themed cupcakes (I was checking to see if the white chocolate snowflakes were all sitting at the same angle) and join him in looking around. It’s beautiful. Garlands of fresh fir, roses, pinecones and mistletoe line the counter and sit on the weathered-looking white cabinet that usually holds gifts for people to buy and books for them to pick up and read whilst in the shop.
We don’t usually have a Christmas tree in here as there’s not much room for one, but at The Proposer’s insistence we managed to buy a plump real one for the occasion. It’s completely covered in dancing fairy-lights, and hanging from its branches are homemade wooden hearts with festive or romantic words painted onto them – Noël, love, peace, happiness, together, family … there’s even a ‘Santa’. There are also several pinecones that we’d collected from our garden and managed to turn into woodland creatures by creatively adding some further bits of wood on to them. That was actually Aaron’s idea as he’d seen something on Art Attack and thought it might be fun. The squirrels are a little questionable, but the owls look fantastic! We’ve also sewn stars, Christmas trees and some more hearts (you can never have too many hearts when there’s about to be a proposal) using red and green felt – it looks absolutely stunning, especially with the added magic of the lights flashing around it all.
It was impossible to put the tree in a corner as it’s so big, but thankfully it doesn’t take up too much of the limited floor space – instead it just stands proudly in the room, demanding our festive attention. We’ve cleared away a few of the tables to make space for it, but were told not to worry too much about moving out furniture. I suggested clearing all of them away and just keeping one small table and two chairs for the couple to romantically sit at, but The Proposer thought it might take away the heart of the shop (apparently the clutter is part of our charm), so most of it stayed. Instead, I’ve decorated them with small festive posies – red poinsettia leaves, mistletoe (yes, more of it – it’s another necessity) and holly sit in a ring around chunky cream church candles, which are just waiting to be lit a little closer to the couple’s arrival. I figure we’ll do that at the same time we put all the fairy-lights on. In fact, the Christmas tree isn’t the only place those magical little sparkling lights have been hung – we’ve also popped more around the cabinet so that they’re draped over books and on hooks on the walls. Billy suggested having one wall covered in lights to give it a waterfall effect, but I had to put my foot down there – it would’ve been too much with the huge tree and all the candles that are not only on the tables, but lining the empty spots on the counter and around the edges of the room too. The place would’ve lit up like Times Square, rather than appearing dimly lit and atmospheric, which is what’s been requested.
‘Wow!’ I hear Aaron proclaim as he, Charlotte, Mum and Colin walk through the door.
Charlotte’s face lights up as she takes in the room – her eyes dancing around, trying their best to take in every detail. Colin gives me a chuffed little wink and a nod of the head, clearly approving, while Mum starts crying.
‘It’s just so magical!’ she laughs at herself, wiping her eyes.
Colin grabs her hand.
‘OK, Charlotte,’ I say, gesturing to the angel in her hands. ‘You ready?’
After a quick glance at Colin, she looks down at the delicately feathered object and nods, before making her way towards Billy, who is waiting by the ladder at the base of the tree. Placing her spare hand in his, she slowly makes her way up the ladder, being sure to bring both feet together on each step. When she is high enough to reach the top, she stops and gives the angel in her hands a look of utter love. Bringing it to her lips, she gently kisses its head, closing her eyes tightly as she does so. We all watch as Billy places his hands around her waist to support her as she leans into the tree and slowly places the final touch to it.
My face tingles as I fight off the urge to react. I decided not to tell anyone about the angel taking on Pauline’s name. I felt as though it was something to be kept between the two of us. Not that I thought Mum wouldn’t understand or that she’d be put out by Pauline’s presence – not at all. It just felt like something for me and Charlotte to share and keep between ourselves.
The wonderful thing about Colin is that he’s always worked hard to keep Pauline’s memory alive. He’s forever talking about her and letting the children find new ways to express their feelings about her. It’s a total contrast to how my mum and I reacted following my dad’s sudden death. We shut ourselves off from the world and became completely closed books. We never spoke about Dad or the fact that he was taken away from us so abruptly. So unfairly. It was years later, once I’d met Billy, that we started having proper conversations about him and us as a family when I was growing up. One thing I’ve learnt from my own experiences with losing a parent is that communication is incredibly important.
Colin’s doing a wonderful job with his children’s loss – it’s fascinating to watch. Charlotte’s idea behind her angel isn’t morbid, sad, shocking or uncomfortable – it’s simply a way of her honouring her mum’s memory. Of making her a part of her present and her future, rather than her being left in the past and something she can’t talk about. It’s beautiful.
Mum walks over to me and squeezes my arm. I can tell she’s about to leave it there, but the emotion of the season gets the better of her again and she decides to pull me in for a hug instead. We rarely hug. Rarely show each other any form of physical comfort. It’s an amazing feeling to be hugged by my mum.
‘What’s the time?’ I ask, breaking away from our embrace – suddenly worrying that we’re running behind schedule and that the couple are due to arrive any second. I wasn’t expecting things to get so emotional.
‘Seven-twenty,’ says Colin, looking at his watch.
‘You lot better go!’ I start, still gripping on to Mum’s hand, not really wanting to shoo them out so suddenly.
‘Can we see what it all looks like without the main lights on first, love?’ asks Mum.
‘I don’t know if we’ve got time now, Mum – they’re going to be here in, like, ten minutes …’
‘Oh, please!’ begs Aaron. It’s the first thing he’s said since his initial reaction when he walked into the shop twenty minutes ago and I simply can’t refuse.
‘Right, Billy – pass me those matches. Let’s light these candles first. It’s probably good to see what it all looks like before they arrive anyway
…’ I mutter nervously, suddenly attacked by a swarm of butterflies in my tummy.
Charlotte and Aaron stand to one side as us four adults rattle around lighting candles, moving the ice bucket of champagne on to one of the tables, and general faffing to make sure everything’s as it should be.
‘Right, all done?’ I ask, lighting the last of the candles.
‘Wait!’ calls Billy, walking over to the stereo. ‘Can’t forget the music!’
Bing Crosby’s ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ starts playing and I breathe a sigh of relief that one of the requested specifics hasn’t been forgotten.
‘Ready now?’ I ask again.
‘I think so,’ nods Billy, squinting as he looks around the room to check.
‘Perfect, I’ll get the lights,’ I squeak, making my way over to the switch on the wall. ‘Three, two, one!’ I count down, before flicking the switch and turning the shop’s overhead lights off.
There’s a gasp, followed by silence.
The room has suddenly come alive with romance.
It’s not the majestic lights working their magic.
It’s not the Christmas tree shining in its festive joy.
It’s not the handmade bits and bobs hanging from the tree or adorning every surface, nook and cranny of the shop.
It’s not Bing’s delectable tones crooning away.
It’s the sight of Colin.
In front of my mum.
On one knee.
With Aaron and Charlotte grinning behind him, clearly in on the secret – those cheeky little monkeys.
‘Jane,’ he begins, pursing his lips to still his mounting nerves before taking a deep breath.
Mum looks at me in utter shock, her eyes widening as they search mine for something, anything.
A smile that I can’t control spreads across my face. Big. Happy. Goofy.
She exhales and turns back to Colin who’s managed to compose himself.
‘I didn’t know I was ready to find someone to share my life with again until I met you. Our broken hearts bumped into each other, and from that moment I’ve wanted to do anything in my power to patch up your heartache and give you the love you deserve. I’m not perfect – I’m short, grey and I eat far too much, especially at Christmas – but I can offer you kindness, friendship … and these two little rascals,’ he laughs, tilting his head towards Charlotte and Aaron behind him, who are standing hand in hand along with Minnie Mouse.
Mum’s eyes are filled with tears as her shoulders come up in laughter.
‘Please, Jane. Will you be my wife? Will you marry me?’
‘Oh, Colin … Of course I will!’
Finally my tears start flowing.
Tears of complete and utter joy.
As we all sit there hearing about Colin’s sneaky behaviour whilst enjoying the food I’d made and Billy’s mulled wine, I find myself thinking of the angel on top of the Christmas tree and picture Pauline watching over us. I hope she’s perched on a cloud somewhere in the company of Molly and Dad.
It comforts me to think of them with us on this special occasion. As Colin has proven with his children, the world is a much happier place when you keep their memories alive – rather than shutting them away into the big dark hole of the past. Now I make a conscious effort not to shy away from the absence of the loved ones we’ve lost. Instead, I choose to think of them and honour them, to include them, to make them a part of our family’s future. They’re with us and I feel the love bouncing around the festive room.
Our little family might be unconventional, with bits missing or broken, but in this moment I feel nothing but pride, love and happiness. I feel complete.
7.
‘OK, now, I didn’t know what to get you,’ I say, picking up Billy’s gift from under the tree and walking over to him.
‘You didn’t have to get me anything …’
‘But I wanted to,’ I say, raising my eyebrows as I place a huge box on the floor in front of him. The kids have already opened all of their gifts and have run off excitedly to have a go on their new bikes in the garden. Mum and Colin have gone to watch, although they’ve spent the majority of the morning in a bubble for two. It’s adorable to see them both looking so in love and engrossed with their affection for one another.
‘Whoa, not as heavy as it looks,’ he says, picking up the almost empty box.
‘I wanted to keep you guessing,’ I admit. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t been down here shaking it trying to guess.’
‘How do you know I haven’t?’ he grins before tearing into the glittery red wrapping, opening the box and taking out its contents. ‘An envelope …’ he vocalizes, looking puzzled as he turns it from one side to the other repeatedly as if its exterior will give him a clue.
I can’t help but giggle as I watch him finally open it and take out the airline tickets.
‘What? We’re going to LA?!’ he proclaims after reading their destination.
‘Yep. In two days, for two whole weeks.’
‘But, what about the shop?’
‘It’s all sorted. Mum’s due some holiday time from the library and Colin’s offered to help out too.’ I can’t help but grin at his expression.
‘We’ll be having New Year in LA?’
‘With your family,’ I nod.
‘Do they know?’
‘Of course they do,’ I laugh. ‘I had to check they weren’t going off on holiday or anything. I would’ve booked a hotel, but your Mum has insisted we stay with them.’
‘I bet she has. I can’t believe she hasn’t slipped up – she must be so excited.’
‘She sounded it.’
‘Thank you so much, Sophie!’ he says, getting up off the floor and scooping me into his arms so that my feet are up off the ground. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to meet my family, though … You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for there.’
‘They’ve all sounded lovely on the phone,’ I shrug – although secretly I’m pretty nervous about meeting the Buskin clan. I’ve never been particularly good with new people – especially important people like potential in-laws (here’s hoping … one day).
‘That’s what they want you to think,’ he laughs. ‘Just wait until they get their claws into you – Mum will have you agreeing to all sorts!’
I’m thrilled that he’s visibly excited about seeing his family. Although it makes me question more than ever why he hadn’t planned the trip himself – even if I weren’t able to go with him because of the shop. He’s clearly missed them more than he’s let on.
‘Now it’s time for yours,’ Billy winks, walking over to the tree and bringing back a fairly big present – wrapped in brown paper, but with a big festive red bow placed on the top. The tag on the present reads, ‘Christmas … a time for remembering, cherishing and uniting. Life presents us with a series of patches, and from those little patches great things are made. Merry Christmas. Billy. Xx.’
Opening it, I’m greeted by a rainbow of colours. Dozens of different fabrics, of various textures, shapes and sizes, have been sewn together to create one ginormous, warm and cosy quilt.
A beautiful patchwork quilt, to match my beautiful patchwork family.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
I love Christmas and I’m not ashamed to admit that we put our Christmas tree up on the earliest possible date – one year it was even up in November! It’s the one time of year when you can curl up on the sofa and stuff your face full of chocolate without anyone thinking badly of you – surely that alone is a reason to rejoice?
If you don’t find it quite so easy to slip into the spirit of the season, here are a few Christmassy tips from me to you:
Write all your Christmas cards. You’re bound to feel extra Christmassy after you’ve written ‘Merry Christmas’ a hundred times!
Grab yourself a big bowl and overload it with chocolates – Ferrero Rocher, Cadbury’s Roses, Quality Street, Lindt Balls … all of the greats! Put them on the coffee table in your
lounge and slowly make your way through them (you don’t want to peak too early). If other people come over, you can enjoy a group appreciation of chocolate … or you can just hide them all. Sharing is caring, but not when it comes to Ferrero Rocher!
Get your friends over and play Balderdash. If you’ve never heard of it before, go out and invest – it’s the ultimate Christmas board game!
Make mince pies and eat a few while they’re still hot. Be careful not to burn your mouth though – rookie mistake.
Give those neighbours whom you never talk to a festive treat – nothing like the aforementioned homemade mince pies to bring the community together!
Whack on the Christmas tunes and enjoy singing ‘All I want for Christmas is yoooooooooou!’ at the top of your lungs.
Go to a Christmas tree farm. I didn’t know these actually existed until a few years ago, but I now love the idea of going along and picking our tree out … as long as some cute little animals haven’t already bagsied it for their home, of course!!
Go see Santa! Yep, go sit on the old guy’s knee and spiel off all the things you want this year.
Get the Argos catalogue out. When I was a kid we used to turn down the corners of our favourite pages in the hope that we’d be given them all for Christmas … talk about subtle hints!
Hire a snow machine. OK, this might be slightly extravagant – perhaps just learn a tribal snow dance and perform that around your living room instead.
THE BEGINNING
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