‘That this – might be, you know, the start of something? I mean Mum is in her seventies now.’
Cat squeezed her husband’s arm. She knew how he felt. When her mum had started her long slow decline into Alzheimer’s, it had been little things that had gone awry at first. Cat knew at first hand how hard it was to see a much-loved parent going downhill. She hated the thought of Noel having to go through that too.
‘Don’t fret,’ she said, trying to remain positive. ‘You heard the doctor, Angela will be fine by tomorrow.’
‘And if she isn’t?’
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ said Cat.
Pippa stood in her kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, staring into the garden, as the last embers of the setting sun leached away, setting the snow-filled hills alight with flaming reds and golds and casting a gold, warm light across her battered kitchen table and Welsh dresser. This was the bit of Christmas Day she’d always liked best when the children were younger: lunch eaten, presents unwrapped, everyone sprawling around the lounge either watching TV, or playing games, and most certainly gorging themselves on chocolates they really didn’t want. In the past she’d have relaxed with them all, letting Dan take over the clearing up, but not this year; this year everything was different. Everyone was being so polite and friendly, she’d wanted to scream. So as they all settled down to late afternoon boozing in front of the telly, Pippa had escaped out here, claiming tidying up duties, to avoid the feelings of suffocation which threatened to oppress her.
It had seemed like the best thing to do – the grown-up thing to do – a year on from her split with Dan to have a family Christmas as they’d done in the past. While she might have been able to cope with another Christmas without Dan, she couldn’t let the kids down, they’d been through too much already. They’d all begged her individually if Dad, Grandpa and Grandma could come like they used to.
‘It wasn’t the same last year,’ Nathan her oldest son had said a little mournfully.
‘I want things the way they were,’ added George, though at thirteen, he was old enough to know that couldn’t be the case.
Her lovely boys had coped so well and maturely with the events of the previous twelve months – Nathan in particular, who’d tried to become the man of the house, would have been enough to sway her. But as ever, it was her wheelchair bound twelve-year-old daughter Lucy, whose cerebral palsy gave her enough to deal with, who made the decision for her. Lucy had been stoical about her dad moving out, though she missed Dan keenly. So when one night she typed on the computer which allowed them to communicate, ‘Can Daddy be with us for Christmas, please,’ Pippa felt any resolve she may have had dissipate.
One of them, Pippa could have resisted, but all three? And so it had been agreed that Dan, his mother and father would come for Christmas Day.
And it probably would have been fine, if Richard’s plans for Christmas hadn’t gone catastrophically awry. Richard normally stayed with his mum and sister and visited his daughter, apparently, but his sister had suddenly announced she was going skiing with her new partner, which led his mum to declare that she was spending Christmas with an aunt whom Richard detested. This was all new to Pippa, last Christmas she’d only just met Richard, while organising a Christmas Ball to fundraise for Lucy’s respite care, and their relationship was still at a fairly tentative stage. She hadn’t factored in him coming for Christmas Day.
But what could she do? Without thinking about it, Pippa had said, ‘Well of course you must come here,’ ignoring the black looks from Lucy and the unasked what the—? questions from the boys. Richard was still new enough for her not to be sure about letting him into her home territory; still new enough for the children to be wary of him, especially Lucy. In an ideal world she would have never invited him, but in for a penny, in for a pound, she decided it would be make or break.
After all, in the last difficult year, when Pippa had finally had to accept that Dan was lost to her, Richard had been a bright ray of hope, giving her comfort that life could move on, and she could be happy once more. Never intrusive, but kind and supportive, Richard had been a rock of empathy to her during the most difficult period of her life. He made her laugh, and was thoughtful and sweet, as well as being very attractive. In the last few weeks, their relationship appeared to have gone onto a more permanent footing, and though Pippa was still not sure where they were headed, she’d decided she owed it to Richard to give things a go. Dan wasn’t coming back, that was clear, and Pippa decided for her sanity’s sake she couldn’t sit moping about forever. Second chances didn’t come every day. Maybe Christmas Day was the day to accept this one.
Luckily, she’d invited her cousin, Gabriel, his wife and her best friend, Marianne, and the twins over too, thinking there was safety in numbers. In such a potentially awkward situation, she was grateful she had done. Marianne was tact itself, and she liked Richard, and could happily be relied on to entertain him if necessary.
As it was, everyone was on their best behaviour and it was only Harriet, her ex mother-in-law who seemed to find it difficult, despite the fact that Pippa had made it clear that Richard was sleeping on the sofa. Their relationship, if it even was a relationship was still at a very tentative stage. Harriet came sobbing into the kitchen early in the day, after one too many glasses of sherry, hiccupping that she was so sorry about what had happened.
‘Harriet, I’m sorry too,’ said Pippa, fighting back tears of her own, ‘but Dan left me, remember. I am allowed to move on.’
Except, was she moving on? Could she, when she had spent the whole day watching Dan, so natural with his daughter, who loved being with her dad, comparing him to Richard, so ill at ease, yet making an effort. Seeing the pair of them in the same room had sent her into total turmoil. What did she really want?
Was it Richard, who was so kind to her, and had gently reintroduced her to the idea that she might still be attractive, or was it Dan, who even now felt like a part of her that she would never get over losing?
‘Maybe I’m rushing things,’ she said aloud as she stared out of the window. She sighed, and sipped her wine, as she pottered around, tidying in the kitchen. Her two closest friends, Cat and Marianne, didn’t think so, pointing out that she and Dan had been living apart for over a year now and that he’d made his feelings perfectly clear. But part of Pippa felt guilty for finding someone new so soon. Even though it was illogical. As she’d reminded her mother-in-law, Dan was the one who had left.
‘Need any help in here?’ Pippa turned round with a start to see Dan standing in the doorway. Her heart pounded that bit harder. Should she still be having this reaction to him, when she had Richard? Guilt tightened across her stomach once more. ‘I rather think that’s my job, isn’t it?’
Not anymore, she felt like saying, but didn’t.
‘Go on, sit down, Pippa,’ said Dan. ‘If I know you, you’ve been on the go since six this morning.’
And that of course was the point. Dan did know her. And understood her, and got her. Did Richard? It was too soon to say. And unfair to consider, she scolded herself. She was just getting to know Richard. They both needed time.
But it was nice to be bossed about by Dan, so Pippa let herself be persuaded to sit at the table with a glass of red wine, while he loaded the dishwasher, dealt with the remains of the turkey, and even cleaned out the roasting dish, which she’d left to soak, intending to do it in the morning. Pippa wondered if Richard would ever do that if they stayed together – then felt guilty again for making the comparison. Richard brought different things to the table. She shouldn’t dismiss him for not being like Dan.
It was then that Dan dropped his bombshell, quite casually as he wiped fat away from the roasting dish, just as Pippa was beginning to feel mellow for the first time that day. For a second it felt like old times, and if she shut her eyes, she could imagine that things were as they’d always been, Dan in the kitchen by her side.
Before