Page 14 of Sisters Making Mischief
For just a split second, my dream of a perfect Christmas came true. Everyone sat down in their allotted places with only a minor squabble about whether Bunny wanted a red cracker or a gold one. The candles on the table and the sideboard were lit,brightening up the dark afternoon. The best wine glasses and the posh cutlery sparkled and shone, and everyone let out the required ‘ooohs’of admiration as John carried the turkey in on the china platter decorated with Christmas trees that he and Vanessa had given me the first year they were married.
He then took his place at the head of the table where Stephen used to sit and began the ceremonial carving of the bird.
‘Is that an actual turkey?’ Poppy said as she watched John pull one of the legs off and start hacking at it, ‘it looks like it’s been run over.’
John has a lot of talents, but carving had never been one of them. I watched him and wondered why did this always happen? Women, i.e. me, did all the shopping, the planning, the work and then at the last minute a man would steam in and grab the spotlight. It was the same with barbeques. I would make the salads, buy the meat, light the barbeque, put out the cutlery, crockery, glasses, and condiments, and then Stephen would behave as though it was all his doing. And people would complementhim.
‘I don’t want any of that,’ Jasmine said, as John held out a plate towards her.
‘Really? But I thought you loved turkey?’ I said brightly.
‘No, I’m a vegetarian,’ she said, leaning away from the plate as though it was polluted.
‘Then just have some vegetables,’ Vanessa said.
Jasmine stood up and dabbed at the roast potatoes with a spoon and put two on her empty plate. ‘I don’t like parsnips or carrots.’
‘Those carrots died for you,’ Poppy said.
‘The carrots are dead?’ Bunny said, her eyes wide.
‘Everything on this table is dead,’ Poppy said, ‘absolutely everything. That turkey is just a dead bird, which has been cooked.’
‘I wish I’d known; I could have done you a nut roast,’ I said, ‘or a pie with soya beans.’
‘I expect the soya beans have all been used up to make pretend cashmere,’ Sara said from her end of the table.
‘Let’s pull our crackers,’ I said as Vanessa opened her mouth to respond to this.
We did, with the usual problem of some of the girls getting two prizes and others getting none. Something that was swiftly resolved by John awarding the handbag mirror to Jasmine and the set of pencils to Poppy, her scowl showed her disapproval.
‘I wanted the mirror,’ she said, prodding her sprouts.
Vanessa tried to be the peacemaker. ‘Let Poppy have it, Jasmine, she needs it to look at all that eyeshadow.’
Jasmine scowled and shook her head. Then of course Vanessa made some encouraging comments about how wonderful the meal was, how happy they were to be all together again, enjoying a proper family Christmas and John agreed, while Sara sat empty-eyed, and staring into the far distance.
‘By the way, Joy, do you think we could have some different towels?’ Vanessa asked. ‘We seem to have the pink ones by mistake, which are a bit rough. Usually, we have the white ones.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said, stifling my first impulse which was to scream, tear my paper hat off and throw it at her, ‘I’ll sort it out after lunch.’
‘Oh, no rush. But I thought I might take a nice relaxing bath later,’ she said with a sweet smile, ‘it always helps me sleep after a tiring day.’
A tiring day?What could she have done that necessitated that?I wondered. Other than get up late, eat half a croissant, sit down with coffee, and open some presents. While I had been flogging myself around the kitchen since dawn.
No, I wouldn’t think like that. I would take a deep breath and calm down. I reached for the red wine and filled up my glass.Oh, tidings of Merlot and joy…
‘I wonder what Uncle Marty is having for his Christmas dinner?’ Bunny said.
At that point, Sara stood up with a strangled cry, her paper hat falling to the floor, and dashed out of the room. We all sat looking at each other before I went after her to see if she was all right.
I found her sitting on the stairs, dry-eyed but looking furious.
I put an arm around her. ‘Come on, Sara, don’t let Marty spoil today for you or the girls. You’ll have a lot of difficult days ahead. Let’s enjoy this one.’
‘I keep wondering what they got up to in my house. When I was down in Cornwall with the girls this summer. The cottage there was horrible, and it looked nothing like the photos. There were exactly four plates, four mugs and four sets of cutlery, but only three teaspoons. And the weather was foul. We didn’t have a wonderful sea view, because it was raining all the time, and there was no broadband so when he did arrive, Marty couldn’t work at all, so he went back two days early. And I bet he went back toher.I bet she had dozens of teaspoons. I bet Vanessa has hundreds, all in a special box.’
I handed her a tissue and she blew her nose loudly.
