Guess Who's Coming to Christmas Dinner
Read Guess Who's Coming to Christmas Dinner Online
Authors: Laura Lockington
Guess Who’s Coming to Christmas Dinner?
Laura Lockington
© Laura Lockington 2013
Laura Lockington has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First
published 2013 by Endeavour Press Ltd.
Chapter One
This Christmas was going to be different, Sophie vowed. The last one had been beyond miserable. She and Archie had been rowing the whole of the holidays and on Christmas morning Sophie discovered a present that she thought was for her, which turned out to be for Archie’s girlfriend. Their lovely daughter Bella had, of course, picked up on the hissed arguments, the sullen looks and the stony silences. With all weeping that Sophie had done, sobbing night after night into her pillow, Bella had been reduced to shambles, wetting her bed, which mortified her. She was, she insisted, a big girl now, but there were still a series of tantrums which split the air with the noise that only a four year old can make.
Sophie
was now husbandless, broke and feeling considerably under the weather, but that wasn’t going to stop her pulling the stops out for her daughter. Beautiful Bella deserved a magical time and she was determined to give it to her. No matter what the cost.
Sophie
glanced down at her notebook which was full of lists. Lists of what to buy, what to cook, what to wear, what to make for the Christmas Eve drinks’ party, and lists about lists. She sniffed and reached for the box of tissues. Getting a cold was so unfair. She shuffled to the kitchen to make yet another Lemsip and glanced at herself in the reflection of the shiny silver fridge. Dark hair scraped back into a ponytail, pale face and haunted dark eyes stared back at her. She bit her lip and tied the belt of her ratty looking, but comforting, red and black chequered dressing gown even tighter. That was unfair too, weren’t you meant to
lose
weight if you were ill? That rule obviously didn’t apply if you ate mashed banana and cream at midnight when you were missing your daughter and fighting a cold. The biscuits and cake probably didn’t help either but that made the Lemsip drinkable. Sophie made a mental note to diet as soon as soon as she woke up on Boxing Day.
Bella
was due to arrive on Christmas morning at 9.30. She had come to a tangled arrangement with Archie where Bella would stay with him and his new wife Bertha until then, and then she would be delivered, like a parcel, by them in their brand new shiny car. No doubt Archie would stand at the front door with Bella trying to drag him inside whilst Bertha regally waved from the car. Sophie practised waving back, a carefree sunny wave, she thought, flicking her fingers toward the imaginary car whilst pulling her mouth into a semblance of a smile. She sniffed again and shuffled back to her sofa with a blue and white striped mug of hot drink. She blew on the surface of it and stared around the room.
The dark grey linen sofas with tartan rugs at either end seemed uncrushed without Bella jumping around on them. The cherry wood floorboards and the dark blue Afghan rug were smooth and straight without Bella pushing her favourite dolls around on it. Even the pale grey walls hadn’t had to be wiped of sticky handprints recently. Silver sprayed twigs dangling with tiny silver baubles were placed on the dark wood ethnic coffee table, in a tall glass jug. That had taken ages to do, with Bella and Sophie threading cotton through the impossibly small hooks of the silvery balls and then carefully looping them over the twigs. Sophie smiled at the recollection of her daughters face: a study of concentration with her pink tongue pushed between her lips as she had clumsily accomplished this festive task, her curly dark hair framing her face. Sophie wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Bella would be home soon. And she was with her father, after all.
A
selection of Christmas cards balanced on the wooden mantelpiece. Not as many as when Archie and she were together, she couldn’t help but notice. A large pink card with glued on cotton wool, glitter and stars took pride of place. Bella had made it at Nursery school and was triumphant when she gave it to Sophie. She’d made one for Archie and Bertha, too which Sophie had to enthuse over. The Christmas tree stood rather crookedly in the corner. That had always been Archie’s job and Sophie had struggled with it, dragging it back from the local greengrocers that had rows of trees leaning drunkenly against the wall and spilling out onto the pavement. Bella had ‘helped’ by scampering in the trailing top branches of it, tripping over and banging her knee, then getting her red woolly hat snagged in the pine needles. This had resulted in a crying fit in the middle of the high street and Sophie remembered how helpless she had felt with her daughter wailing and her own arms full of shopping trying to manhandle – or
womanhandle
– the tree up the street. A smart looking blonde woman, who had tip tapped past them on high heeled boots, had given a disapproving look as Sophie had pleaded with Bella to stop crying.
“My
knee hurts mummy, carry me, carry me!” Bella had wailed in her high four year old voice which seemed to carry further than was humanly possible. Bella had held her arms up to be carried and Sophie’s heart had sunk.
“Darling,
I simply don’t have the arms! Look – Mummy has got the shopping, the tree, and her handbag...now, be a big girl and walk. Please.” Sophie added ‘dammit’ under her breath and forced a smile on her face. She knew it had been too much to carry but if she got it all in one hit then she wouldn’t have to go out again.
Bella’s
face had turned as red as her hat, and her mouth opened to start a full on tantrum. That’s when Laurie had walked past. Thank
God
.
“Howdy
neighbour! Hi Bella - nice hat,” Laurie said, hunkering down so that his face was level with Bella’s. He glanced up at Sophie. “Nice tree, too,” he smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling at the sides through his specs. He’d got a woolly hat on too, and a striped scarf which he’d wound several times around his neck.
“Hop
up,” he commanded Bella and she willingly squealed with delight and allowed herself to be piggy backed home, chattering excitedly to Laurie about the tree. Laurie had carried Bella on his back and the tree, to the front door. Then he’d gone back to his flat, which was opposite them across the tree lined road. He’d waved at them from across the busy street and Bella had waved and waved until he’d appeared at his living room window and waved back again. Only then had Bella consented to accept that he’d finally gone.
Sophie
sniffed again and wondered, not for the first time, why it was that Laurie, a very nice guy and not at all bad looking, was still single. Wasn’t there meant to be a shortage of nice young men in London? She wasn’t complaining though, if Laurie had got a girlfriend he wouldn’t spend so much time hanging out with her and Bella. Sophie thought it was a good thing that Bella had a male role model in her life. Not that the southern suburbs could really be called London, not really. They were pushing the boundaries of Kent, but the commute was just about do-able. Even if the price of everything was the same as Mayfair. Sophie sighed. It had all been so much easier when Archie had been there. She now worked part time in the local deli and worried about everything - how to pay the bills, how to pay for Christmas...she stared at her lists.
The
Christmas Eve Drinks Party was the first one. She sighed. It had seemed such a good idea at the time. A grown up party with no kids. Something for her. Something that didn’t revolve around just her and Bella. Her best friend Susi had egged her on. Sophie picked up the phone and punched in Susi’s number. It was engaged. Of course it was. She pictured Susi at her desk, her friend’s hands running through her mop of auburn hair as she chattered away on the phone. Susi worked in a PR company and was permanently welded to her phone. Sophie had joked with her that she probably slept with her phone under her pillow and Susi had stared at her in surprise. “Doesn’t everyone?” she’d asked.
Sophie
concentrated on the list. It simply said – booze and nibbles. Not very inspiring. A sneeze was tickling Sophie’s nose and she grabbed a tissue and willed it be over with. Hopefully by tomorrow she’d miraculously be cold free. The sneeze exploded from her nose, and she automatically muttered ‘bless you’ before another sneeze came.
“Yuck.”
Sophie rolled the wet tissue and hurled it into the bin with the others. She wondered what Bella was doing. Hopefully driving Archie and Bertha to distraction with her new found ability to sing one line of a Christmas Carol over and over, so that Chinese Water torture seemed preferable. Sophie smiled to herself as she remembered Bella learning the lines.
“Go
on Bella. Give them ‘The Holly and the Ivy’,” Sophie said to herself, hugging her dressing gown around her shoulders. The flat was cold, but she had put the heating on earlier in the morning and didn’t want to put it on again. Not just for her. She tried Susi’s number again.
“Grange
PR. Susi here, how can I help you?” Her voice was very chipper and Sophie could hear the sound of a frantic office in the background. She had a twinge of guilt, knowing that Susi was probably very busy and that she had only called for a chat.
“Don’t
be daft, it’s lovely to hear your voice – hang on a minute Soph. No. NO! I told you the press packs have been delivered....sorry, it’s bloody chaos here, not helped by the fact that we’ve been given a few crates of Strombair.”
“What’s
that?”
“A
sort of strawberry liqueur, quite disgusting really, but delicious if you mix it with something fizzy,” said Susi cheerfully. “I’ll whizz you over a case if you fancy it, be great for your party. Have you invited everybody?” Susi lowered her voice to a whisper, “and Ned IS coming....”
Sophie
could only sniff at this bit of information. Ned was the glamorous boss of Grange PR and Sophie was astounded that he had nothing better to do then attend her party. He’d probably bring a model like creature with him and only stay for ten minutes.
Susi’s
voice resumed to its normal pitch, “You want a crowd, you know, people sort of crushed against one another full of the festive spirit. And don’t forget mistletoe, mistletoe needs to be everywhere! And music, don’t forget the music, not some dreary bloody Christmas stuff though. A few festive songs of course sprinkled amongst the rest always works, but no damn carols. You need Slade, of course, and maybe some Ronettesn- that would be a retro sort of nod. Then food, I mean you are practically Nigella in that department, so that’s not a problem, is it? Oh, hang on a second....no, no...the top drawer of the filing cabinet... I’m going to have to dash Soph but I’ll swing by on the way home with the crate of booze. Text me if you need anything else, OK? Love you!” And she was gone.
Oh
dear. A crush of people dodging mistletoe whilst dancing to Slade was not quite what she had in mind. Sophie glanced around the room doubtfully. And that was just Christmas Eve. There was the dinner on Christmas Day to get through as well. Her parents were driving up from Devon after picking up slightly eccentric Aunt Dot from Dorset. Sophie curled up on the sofa, biro in one hand, and a blank list in front of her. She guiltily flicked the remote control on. Daytime TV was
bound
to give some inspiration on how to host a swanky Christmas party and be the perfect single mum.
