Page 122 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
“I’ve got enough dead animals hanging in the cold storage to entertain a taxidermists’ convention!” said Laura.
She looked tired. The smudged mascara didn’t help.
“Still,” she said. “I sign out at five p.m. on the twenty-third and I’m not back till after the New Year.”
They were both quiet for a moment. Reminded suddenly that one of them would be gone by then. Laura put her head on Kate’s shoulder.
“What will I do without you?” she asked.
“You’ll just have to have plenty of weekends away in London,” said Kate. But they both knew it wouldn’t be the same.
•••••
Kate pushed her front door open and was greeted by the rich smell of beef stew. Her stomach growled. The house felt very warm after the bracing weather outside and Kate felt her cheeks stinging slightly as they thawed, chafed by the bitter wind.
She felt lighter now that she had made up with Laura. Kate wandered into the kitchen and caught sight of one of her packing boxes, half filled with art supplies, and a weight of sadness cloaked her shoulders once more. She sighed. It wasn’t going to be easy to leave. But, shetold herself, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d started over; she could do it again.
•••••
Her phone buzzed her out of her reverie. It was her mum.
“Hi, Mum,” said Kate. “Are you safely home?”
“Yes, my darling,” said her mum. “I am, thanks to you, Katy-Boo!”
“Dad went halves with me,” said Kate.
Her mum went unusually quiet on the other end of the line.
“Did he, darling,” she said after a moment. “He’s a good man, your father.”
“Yes,” said Kate. “He is.”
“I know you always thought he was too good for me, darling,” said her mum.
“I never said that!” said Kate.
“You didn’t need to,” said her mum. “And, well, the truth of it is, he was. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him. I just didn’t love him enough.”
“Then why did you keep going back to him?” Kate asked.
“Becausehe isa good man,” said her mum. “I could never match up. I could never love him like he loved me. I just haven’t got it in me. You and your dad are cut from the same cloth; you’re both sturdy, you can stand up to life and give it as good as it gets. I’m always just trying to stop it from blowing me away.”
Kate was quiet. She’d never had such candid conversation from her mother. Was it possible there was more depth to her than Kate had given her credit for?
“Anyway,” said her mum. “Enough of this nonsense! I bought a fabulous Chanel purse at the airport with Gerry’s traveler’s checks.”
Maybe not.
“Mum, would you like to come back to England for Christmas?” Kate asked. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone for the holidays.”
Kate wasn’t sure exactly how she would work such a scheme and keep everyone happy, but equally, she couldn’t very well leave her mum stranded alone at Christmas.
“Alone?” trilled her mother. “Alone? I’m the life and soul of the complex, darling. I’ve had more offers of Christmas dinners than I know what to do with!”
“Have you heard from Gerry?” Kate asked.
“No,” said her mum. “But while I was burning his clothes on the beach, I met a charming gentleman called Alejandro. Owns a bistro on the hillside. How I’ve not met him before I do not know!”
