A Perfect Christmas (34 page)

She chuckled, saying, ‘Oh, you’re acting like a big kid. Tell you what, we’ll open them together.’

‘All right,’ he agreed.

Jan was desperate to find out what he had bought her and had the paper off before Glen had even made a start on his. Inside was a pair of brown woollen gloves. Jan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh because she had bought Glen exactly the same thing as he had, to keep his hands warm in this bitter winter weather they were experiencing. Cry because although they were just friends, and although she hadn’t expected a gift from him at all, she had foolishly hoped for something pretty that would make her feel more feminine. Her clothes consisted of two gabardine skirts, one black and the other dark green, two plain blouses and two brown cardigans, along with a change of unflattering underwear. She had bought them all from the second-hand shop to tide her over until their monetary situation improved or Harry found time between his work and church duties to send her belongings round.

Glen was saying to her as he was still trying to get the paper off his gift, ‘You needed gloves, didn’t you? I noticed how cold your hands get on our way to and from work. Have I got the right size?’

Jan suddenly felt guilty for being disappointed with her present. In truth he’d got her exactly what she needed, and thanks to his thoughtfulness her hands would now be warm and cosy while she was out in the wintry conditions. Throwing the paper into the fire, she pulled on the gloves then wiggled her hands at him. ‘They fit perfectly, thank you,’ she said sincerely.

Glen managed to rip off the remainder of the paper and started to laugh when he saw the gloves Jan had bought him. ‘Great minds think alike,’ he said, also throwing the paper into the fire and pulling them on. ‘Just what I needed – and a perfect fit too. Thank you.’

She told him, ‘Well, I noticed the way your hands got cold too.’ Then she said, ‘It’s time for me to get the dinner on the go or it won’t be cooked for three.’

Christmas Day fell on a Tuesday this year and last Friday night, after receiving their first full wage packets, Jan and Glen had sat down and calculated what each of them needed to put in for their share of the bills, including a little extra for festive food which Jan would bargain for on Christmas Eve. She had been delighted to find that she did have enough left from her wage not only to pay for her own personal needs, but also a small gift for him too.

On Christmas Eve all the employees were allowed to leave early, and at just after three-thirty Jan hurried out of the gates along with the rest of the workforce, heading straight for the town centre, in particular the market, on a mission to secure some bargains. Glen had offered to accompany her, to help carry the groceries home, but she had waved off his offer with a flap of her hand, telling him that he’d only hinder her and she would much prefer it if he had a roaring fire ready to greet her along with the singing of the kettle when she returned home.

It was a jubilant Jan who had walked wearily through the flat door at just after seven that evening, laden down with brown carrier bags filled with last-minute buys she had fought with other bargain hunters to acquire, sporting several bruises and a pair of laddered stockings to prove it. Having told her to sit down in her armchair by the fire and rest her aching feet while he made her a cup of tea, Glen also unpacked the bags. With all she had bought piled on the table, he stood and stared at it. At the battered-looking clementines, bruised apples, netting bag of nuts with smashed shells, wilting vegetables, and especially the sorry-looking chicken that had been flattened due to being at the bottom of a large mound of ready-plucked ones the market-stall butcher had got ready in the early hours of that morning, ready to serve his never-ending stream of customers. He’d been glad to sell it to Jan for a couple of shillings sooner than get nothing for it by throwing it away. For a man who over the last five years had never known where his next mouthful of food was coming from and often went for several days at a time without any at all, the sight before Glen was one to behold. He was looking forward to sitting down for his first Christmas dinner for many a long year and eating it in Jan’s good company.

As she made to go into the kitchen area and begin preparing the food, Glen stopped her, saying, ‘Just a minute, I think you’ve missed something.’

She looked at him, puzzled. ‘Such as what?’

‘Something else under the tree for you.’

Her eyes lit up. ‘Something else for me?’ She dashed over to the tree and bent to look around the rusting bucket, but saw nothing. She was about to scold Glen for having a joke with her that she didn’t at all find funny when she spotted a small wrapped package sitting on top of the soil in the bucket where he had hidden it, hoping she wouldn’t see it until he was ready to tell her about it. She snatched it up and started squeezing the parcel. It was soft and immediately her excitement began to mount. Ripping off the paper, she stopped short to stare at what she’d found inside. It was a silk scarf, brightly coloured in rich shades of blue and green. Had she had a choice, she would have picked this one for herself. She looked at him, astonished, and uttered, ‘Oh, thank you so much, Glen. It’s beautiful. But you shouldn’t have. It must have cost you . . .’

He put his fingers to his lips to tell her not to continue. ‘I wanted to get you something nice by way of showing you my appreciation for everything you have done for me, Jan.’

Trouble was, she wanted him to have bought her this gift because he cared for her as more than just a friend.

She told him, ‘I shall wear it all the time,’ and again started to make her way into the kitchen, but again he stopped her.

‘I’m not quite finished yet. There’s another present. This one I bought for us both.’ While she looked on speechless, he went over and bent down behind his armchair. When he righted himself he was holding a large wooden box-like object in his hands.

Jan clapped her hands together in delight. ‘It’s a wireless. Oh, Glen, you’ve bought us a wireless. Oh, I have so missed listening to it. Put it on now and let’s liven this place up. It’s Christmas Day after all.’ Then she looked at him quizzically. ‘How did you pay for my scarf and the wireless?’

As he was plugging the wireless into the electric socket and tuning it in, he told her, ‘Well, I get paid more than you and so I had more left over after taking out the money for my share of the bills and food. The wireless, as you can tell, is second-hand, but you’re not the only one who can strike a deal. The bloke wanted seventeen and ninepence for it but I knocked him down to fifteen.’ After a lot of hissing and crackling, Glen hit the BBC Home Service and lively dance-band music boomed out loud and clear.

Jan loved to dance. Impulsively she grabbed Glen’s arm and started waltzing vigorously around the room with him, both of them laughing as they did so, until the tune finished and they collapsed on the sofa together, still laughing.

‘Oh, that was fun,’ she spluttered.

Glen nodded. ‘It was. I can’t believe that after all these years I still remember how to do it.’

‘Well, I suppose it’s like riding a bike. Once learned, never forgotten.’

Glen then looked searchingly at her for a moment before he tentatively suggested, ‘When we’ve afforded ourselves some decent clothes maybe we could both go to a dance one night at one of the halls?’ He was worried then that Jan might think he was asking her out on a date. If she didn’t think about him in that way he feared he might have put her in a compromising situation, so quickly added, ‘Be nice to go out as friends.’

Oh, why did he have to go and add that when she’d just had her hopes lifted that this was Glen’s way of telling her he saw her as more than just a friend? She said lightly, ‘Yes, I’d enjoy that.’ Then she got up, saying, ‘Right, we really must make a start on the dinner. Come on, you can start peeling the potatoes while I fish the giblets from the chicken to make the gravy with.’

Meanwhile in another household across town Cait sat staring out of a window which looked onto a sweep of neatly kept front garden. But she was not seeing how beautiful it looked, with the frost sparkling like miniature diamonds on the blades of grass and leaves and bark where the weak December sun touched it. She was far too miserable to notice.

She had thought she would get through the day fine, sleeping late and then occupying herself reading through the pile of magazines she had bought, watching what she wanted to for a change on the television and not what her mother and father dictated, but she hadn’t bargained on feeling so very sad, lost and lonely, with no heart to do anything whatsoever, the neverending day stretching before her.

Her desolate state had nothing to do with the absence of her parents but was all to do with Neil. Their chance encounter had resurrected all the feelings for him that she had been trying to bury.

She had firmly told Agnes not to come in today, and to enjoy being with her family and friends, but still she had insisted on preparing a meal that would just require heating up, so at least she knew Cait was enjoying a proper Christmas dinner. She had also been overwhelmed with the small gift that Cait had bought her: a bar of lavender-scented soap and matching talcum powder. Never having received so much as a token from her employers before after years of loyalty to them, from the way she’d responded an onlooker would have thought Cait had given her the crown jewels.

She had slept badly the night she had bumped into Neil, unable to get him out of her mind, and her only respite since had been while she had been occupied at work. But immediately Agnes had departed at six on Christmas Eve, leaving her entirely on her own, memories of Neil, and her own pain and heartache at losing him, had flooded back with a vengeance and not left her since. That morning, feeling wretched and exhausted, Cait had dragged herself out of bed and moped aimlessly around the house. She was still in her dressing gown, unwashed, her hair dishevelled. It was now after two o’clock and the meal Agnes had prepared her was still sitting untouched in the fridge where she had left it yesterday, Cait having had no appetite since her unexpected meeting with Neil.

She knew she wasn’t helping herself by wondering who he had held in his arms for the last dance on Christmas Eve; who he had kissed under the mistletoe; who was sitting by his side at the dinner table today, sharing jokes with his family; who he had bought a special Christmas present for.

She knew she was upsetting herself unnecessarily, and that she needed something to occupy her mind and take her thoughts off Neil, even for a short while.

What, though? There was nothing in this house that would provide the distraction she needed. She knew it would be easier for her when she returned to work the day after Boxing Day, but that didn’t help her right now. If only everywhere wasn’t closed. With somewhere to go, the cinema, a museum, a browse around the shops, she would at least have had other things to think about.

Cait heaved a deep forlorn sigh as she watched a robin fly from branch to branch, vehemently wishing she was just a bird with only the problem of where her next worm was coming from to think about. Then unexpectedly a memory popped into her head. But she did have somewhere to go. Somewhere where she had been told she’d be welcome. That was an invitation whichever way she looked at it and there was no reason to believe it wasn’t genuine. All thoughts of Neil were suddenly replaced by ones of what she would wear, how she would get there and what to take with her as she couldn’t go empty-handed.

It took her several telephone calls to find a taxi firm that was providing a skeleton service that day. An hour later, carrying a bottle of five-star Napoleon brandy she had taken out of her parents’ drinks cabinet and wrapped up in brown paper and tied with a ribbon, Cait went out to meet the taxi as soon as she heard its tyres scrunching on the gravel drive. Settling herself in the back of the car, she informed the driver of Glen’s and Jan’s address and they set off.

At just after twelve that night, three people climbed into their beds, tired but happy. Glen had thoroughly enjoyed his day. He had been in very pleasant company . . . had been most surprised when Caitlyn had turned up, but pleased she had taken Jan’s invitation seriously and didn’t mind sharing the day with two people old enough to be her parents. The food Jan had prepared had been sumptuous and he was stuffed to bursting with it. He’d also enjoyed several small tots out of the bottle of brandy that Cait had brought with her. He’d never been a willing participant in parlour games in his younger days, much preferring to sit back and watch everyone else play their part, and laugh at their antics. Jan, though, was having none of it. She had left him with no choice but to act out several charades for Cait and her to guess the answer to, and then do likewise for him. He had also been roped into taking part in games of I Spy, Blind Man’s Buff, and Guess the Famous Person, and sing along to carols being played on the wireless during the evening service. All in all, he had been most surprised to find how much he had enjoyed himself.

Only one thing marred what would otherwise have been a perfect day and that was his wish to be reunited with his daughter.

Jan’s idea of a perfect Christmas Day was plenty of tasty food, good company, and having some fun and laughs – the latter two being the things sadly lacking from her life over the last ten years. But today she felt she couldn’t have bettered the company she was in, and she couldn’t remember when she had last laughed so much over other people’s antics. They’d played a selection of parlour games, her voice was hoarse from singing along with the wireless, and she’d certainly enjoyed the treat that Cait had brought along with her.

There was only one thing that was missing from her day, and that was the fact that Glen had not been reunited with his daughter.

A day that had started out so miserably for Cait had ended with her feeling far more positive about her future. Glen and Jan between them had provided just the distraction she had needed to free her mind for long periods of time of all thoughts of Neil. She had been reluctant at first, in her low mood, to participate in the parlour games Jan suggested they play, not having the energy to do anything more than to sit and watch. Jan, though, was not taking no for an answer. If she and Glen were going to be making fools of themselves then it was only fair that Cait did too. She was surprised by how much she had enjoyed herself. By the time she finally departed for home that night her only regret was that she hadn’t gone to visit Glen and Jan earlier in the day.