Page 28 of Christmas Ever After
‘Does it hurt?’
Sofia’s question brings me back from the reverie of staring at Raff. ‘It does at the moment, but it’ll get better in a few weeks. Unlike my pride, because the whole thing was captured on video and over 40,000 people have seen it now.’
‘Can I see?’ Without waiting for an answer, she starts digging in her mum’s handbag, which is hanging over the back of Erin’s chair next to her. She pulls out her mum’s phone and starts doing something on it, until Raff reaches across and kindly, but firmly, pushes the phone down onto the table and shakes his head sharply.
‘Why not?’
‘Because we both embarrassed ourselves and Franca was hurt and it was my fault, and neither of us want to relive that horrible day.’
‘Sorry.’ Erin puts her phone back into her bag and hooks it over the opposite corner of the chair, away from little hands.
‘Uncle Raff tells me you’ll be singing at the Carollers’ Cabin on Christmas Ever After?’ I say because Sofia looks disappointed at having the phone taken away.
‘Yes!’ she squeals and both Erin and Biddy give her a reproachful look for the whistle-like pitch. ‘I’ve been practisingallllllllthe time!’ She rattles off a list of Christmas carols, all the old ones that I remember singing in school assemblies when I was her age.
‘And she’s been cast as an angel in the school nativity, so we’ve got constant singing at the moment,’ Erin mutters. ‘Honestly, if I hear about Good King Wenceslas one more time, I’m going to make himintothe Feast of Stephen.’
‘What’s your favourite Christmas song, Franca?’ Sofia asks me, oblivious to her mum’s grumbling.
I’m stumped. So many possible choices swirl through my head, but I can’t think of any I like enough to call a favourite. Is this really what it’s come to – that I no longer have a favouriteChristmas song? I used toloveChristmas music. I would start playing it in September – way before it was socially acceptable to play festive songs. As festive music plays year-round on Christmas Ever After, you grow immune to it, but as Raff pointed out the other day, I don’t even play it in my shop during December these days. ‘I… um… do you know, I like so many that I can’t choose between them. What’s yours?’
‘Taylor Swift!’ She starts singing ‘Christmas Tree Farm’, a song I’ve heard a million times without ever knowing who sang it.
As she sings and dances around in her seat, I remember a song I used to love from a few years ago. ‘Mine’s actually a bit of an obscure one. “My Favourite Time of Year” by The Florin Street Band.’
‘I don’t know that one. Can I play it?’ Without waiting for permission, she shouts at their smart speaker to play it, and the first bars come out from a small device standing on the TV unit in the living room, filling the house with the cheerful opening music that makes it impossible not to feel festive.
Trisha and Quentin start serving, and a large bowl of broccoli cheese is put down in front of me, along with a plate full of warm slices of crusty white baguette, and I’m certain it’s been done for my benefit.
Raff bangs a teaspoon against his mug of tea and then raises it in a toast. ‘Cheers to family, this time of year, and new friends.’ He leans across until he can clink his mug against mine and then makes an announcement. ‘Right, Franca and I are having a competition where we only eat with our left hands and see who can make the most mess.’
‘Can I play?’ Sofia asks.
‘Anyone can play. The more, the merrier!’
‘Let’s all play,’ Trisha says.
‘Sod that.’ Biddy has another sip of her martini. ‘Sorry, Franca, it’s hard enough to eat withbothhands at my age, but you youngsters enjoy yourselves.’
‘Oh, no, please,noneof you have to do that. That’s ridiculous.’ I kick Raff’s foot under the table and stare at him pointedly.
Sofia grabs a spoon in her left hand and plunges it into her broccoli cheese, and everyone else does the same. Raff picks up a slice of baguette and grins at me, and I look around the table, everyone starting on their food with their left hands only, and the warmth that flooded my chest earlier seeps out and trickles into the rest of my body. I never thought anyone would go to that much trouble just to make me feel more comfortable, and my nose burns with the threat of tears rising up.
I pick up a piece of baguette too and dip it into the melted cheese. ‘I warn you, I’ve had nearly a week of practice, I can beat you all hands down!’
‘Handdown,’ Quentin says, and everyone explodes into laughter, and the room is filled with chatter, and a sense of joy and peacefulness. I’m certain the meal itself was made solely because it’s something easy to eat with one hand, just as I’m sure the sliced baguette was chosen because I can’t slice my own rolls, at least, not without trying to pin one down with an elbow, which is not something anyone wants to showcase in public. Something I was so self-conscious of has become something fun for everyone to join in, and I find myself looking at Raff, his huge smile, his twinkly brown eyes and dark hair that falls to one side.Hedid that, for me. They’ve all made this so easy. They’ve welcomed me and made me feel like I’ve known them all for years, despite only meeting them tonight. They include me in conversations and ask me about myself and want to know everything about nutcrackers, and seem genuinely interestedwhen I get overenthusiastic and talk about my processes too much. This is what I’ve always wished my family could be like.
‘How’s the clumsy oaf doing with your precious nutcrackers, Franca?’ Trisha asks me.
‘He’s amazing.’ I look at him and smile. I’ve spotted one of the snowmen he made the other day on the window ledge and I love that he made one for his mum too, and it’s only when I notice they’re all looking at me that I realise I’ve just called him amazing and now I’m staring at him and probably looking like I’ve got hearts in my eyes, and I hurry to correct myself. ‘I mean, as a craftsman, obviously. He knew exactly what to do to practise and get used to the process of woodturning. It’s been surprisingly refreshing to watch him work. His enthusiasm has reminded me of things I’d forgotten.’
‘Fat lot of good it’ll do him if he doesn’t pull his socks up,’ Biddy grouches.
‘We heard about the council’s plot,’ Erin says and then turns to me. ‘It sounds totally uncalled for. No one really wantseitherof you evicted, do they?’
‘I don’t think anyone will complain when I lose and take my one-star reviews with me,’ Raff mutters before I have a chance to answer.
‘I’m not flamin’ surprised,’ Biddy pipes up. ‘If you can’t find love for yourself, how do you ever expect to find it for anyone else?’
