Page 94 of A Winter in Wonderland
‘And visit them next year if they’re still here?’
Dad squeezed my eight-year-old hand, and kissed my forehead, staying there with his prickly beard in my good eye for longer than he usually did.
With my eyes squeezed shut, I pushed the memory away and asked the bartender for a second vodka shot, drinking it quickly, as if I could outrun what was coming next …
CHRISTMAS 2004 ~ AGED THIRTEEN
They’d been bickering all day, it was nothing new. And nothing serious. In fact, I’d spent the first day of the school Christmas holidays watching the music video for Girls Aloud’s ‘Love Machine’ in slow motion, trying to learn the dance routine in case it ever came on at a party and then I could wow everyone. So I’d tuned out what they were saying hours ago.
Shay, at sixteen, found me excruciating and hilarious, but that hadn’t stopped her setting up camp in the corner of the living room to wrap gifts and sing along to the choon.
‘Nearly got it,’ I said to her after a semi-successful run-through, pausing the video, just in time to hear a thump-thump-thump down the stairs.
I opened the living room door to see Mum standing with two suitcases, Dad sat on the stairs.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Shay, appearing behind me. Her voice had a hard edge, the kind of one she used with me sometimes, like when I’d see her at school holding hands with someone and I’d yell, ‘Woooooooooooo, that’s my sister!’
I looked at the suitcases – where could we possibly be going on holiday this close to Christmas? And then I gasped, and screamed, or maybe the other way around. ‘Are we going to DISNEYLAND?’
I was dying to visit Disneyland Paris at Christmastime. One of my best friends, Rick, went last year and all he talked about was how good Space Mountain was, and how festive it was, and how big the Christmas tree was. I’d been banging on about it to Mum and Dad all year, and now we were going.
Girls Aloud would have to wait.
What was I going to pack? What book would I take? Would we take presents with us to open there or have them when we got back? What hotel would we stay in?
My thoughts came to a screeching halt when Dad got up and put his arm around me and said, ‘Not this year, sweetheart.’
Oh. ‘Then where are we going?’
Mum took a big inhale and I noticed, for the first time, that both she and Dad had pink eyes. She came over and wrapped an arm around me and an arm around Shay. I returned her hug, holding her waist tightly, but Shay was stiff and I didn’t know why.
Mum took another deep breath. ‘Myla, Shay, I’m going to go and stay at Auntie Alexa’s for a little while.’
‘For Christmas?’ I asked. ‘Why doesn’t she come here?’
‘Not just for Christmas,’ Mum said, her voice slow, a tremble sneaking through. She shook her head. ‘I’ll be gone for a little while, but I’ll come and see you and you can come and see me.’
At this point, Shay broke away and ran upstairs, shoving past Dad as she went.
‘Why are you going?’ I asked. Though I think I’d realised by then what was happening, I just didn’t want to believe it.
‘I think everyone will have a happier Christmas this way,’ Mum said.
‘Love, why don’t you just—’ Dad started, with a sigh, but Mum held up her hands.
‘Let’s just … ’ She smiled at him, whispered an ‘I’m sorry’ and then squeezed me so tightly I cricked my neck.
Mum broke away and pulled her suitcases towards the door. ‘I’ll stop back over in a couple of days, try and talk to Shay then.’
And then she left the house. She left our family Christmas. She left everything.
I pressed the ice shot glass to my forehead, forcing myself to feel the cold because if I felt the pain of that on my skin, maybe, just maybe, I could keep myself present. Isn’t that what everyone’s always telling me I should do? ‘Stay present’? I don’t need, I don’twant, to be dancing with ghosts of Christmas past …
CHRISTMAS 2011 ~ AGED TWENTY
I got off the bus and walked the last five minutes along the lane to Dad’s house with a smile on my face. It was icy on the dark ground, I was shattered from the long journey back from university, I was even more exhausted from my course, which, in my second year, was sucking the life out of me. My suitcase had a broken wheel so it made a thunk-scrape-thunk-scrape sound as I walked it along. I’d left my book on the ferry. It was Christmastime; not my favourite.
But I was actually excited. Four whole days with Dad and Shay was just the break I needed. Yes, I’d be forced to watchHome Alone 2again because it was Shay’s favourite, yes, I’d be force-fed mince pies until it was all I could taste in every burp, but I was determined to enjoy myself.
