‘No. I’m asking Barret and Anna to pay a fair price for labour and then we’ll give it away.’
‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Maybe for you it doesn’t,’ she agreed. ‘But for us…it’s our way.’ She glared at him. ‘If you want to take our profits for yourself…’
‘Whoa,’ he told her. And then he thought, What sort of employer/employee relationship was this? She’d just given away his profits.
But there had been no arguing, and now the whole town had jobs to do for the good of the tsunami relief effort. He could lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and think he should be back in New York.
Why should he be back in New York? Christmases back home were simply an excuse for ostentation.
He hated Christmas. Even before Christa had died he’d hated Christmas.
Five a.m. Nothing to do until nine.
He hated Christmas.
Nine. He walked up the veranda steps, carrying expensive truffles and vintage wine. The screen door slammed open and a pyjama-clad urchin catapulted through, crutches tumbling as Henry toppled forward to hug his legs.
A Labrador puppy came bouncing after him. The puppy reached Henry and Henry abandoned Guy. He sat down on the veranda and shoved his nose into the puppy’s soft fur.
‘This is Patsy,’ he told Guy, his voice muffled by puppy. ‘She was on my bed when I woke up, and she’s all mine, and I have to train her.’
‘That’s great,’ Guy said, feeling…emotional. That was the end of that resolution, then.
‘And there’s more.’ Small boy and pup looked up at him, eyes glistening with Christmas joy. ‘We’ve been waiting and waiting, and Santa’s been, and there’s stockings for everyone. But Mummy says we can’t open them until you come.’
‘Come on in,’ Jenny said, and he raised his eyes from her son and smiled at Jenny.
She was simply dressed in clean jeans and T-shirt-a T-shirt adorned with sequins carefully sewn on to make a picture of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
She had two glowing Santa Clauses hanging from her ears.
She was smiling. Who needed grinning Santa Clauses when there was a smile like this?
‘You’re overdressed,’ she told him. ‘A suit at nine on Christmas morning? Pyjamas are more the go.’
‘I don’t wear them,’ he told her, and she blushed. A great blush. It made him want to…
Keep it impersonal, he told himself harshly.
‘Well, at least wear a Christmas hat,’ she said, and handed him a hat. Then, when he didn’t react, she took it back, reached up and placed it on his head. A red and white Santa hat.
Forget the hat. She was so close. She smelled of pine needles and mince pies and…and Jenny.
There was mistletoe over his head. He couldn’t see it but he was sure of it. The desire to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless was suddenly overwhelming.
But Lorna was at the door, with Jack behind her, laughing and calling for them to come in.
‘It’s all very well for Henry,’ Jack complained, ‘he’s got his puppy. But every single one of my presents is still wrapped, and if we don’t get to these stockings soon I’m going to bust.’
Comparisons of this Christmas to every other Christmas he’d known were ludicrous. As a child he remembered formal Christmas mornings, drinks with business acquaintances where children were seen and not heard. A ludicrously over-the-top lunch where he was the only child-he hated the food and he hated the waiting, the waiting…Then his parents would sleep off their lunch, and some time towards evening his mother would call him in and they’d open their gifts. They weren’t permitted to open them early as ‘the tree looks so much better with gifts under it, and we’ll keep that effect until all our guests have gone.’
Whatever his gift was, it would have been exquisitely wrapped and he’d have to admire the wrapping.
It was never anything he wanted. It was always something someone had recommended. ‘Oh, we gave Guy a miniature violin-so sweet-I’m sure he’s musical. He takes after my side of the family, not his father’s…’
There was no violin today. This little family lived on a shoestring. The major present was the puppy. The rest of the gifts were…silly?
Some were silly, some were sensible-but it was a great mix. He watched as Henry unwrapped coloured pencils, a new collar and lead for his dog, and a vast parcel that turned out to be three months’ supply of puppy food-Henry was so delighted he couldn’t stop giggling, and there was a pause in the proceedings so Patsy could be photographed sitting on top of her future dinners…A rubber toy in the shape of a chook for Patsy, a game of wooden blocks that Henry received with joy…
Interspersed with these-for they took turns to open gifts-were the adult presents. Romance novels for Lorna, and a crazy device for massaging feet that Patsy took instant exception to. A new summer hat for Jack-he had to take off the reindeer antlers he was wearing, so he placed his new hat on and then propped his reindeer antlers over the top.
And for Guy…
He’d expected nothing. Of course he’d expected nothing. But there was a whole stocking stuffed with silly things. When he saw the stocking he felt his heart sink, expecting to be embarrassed that this family had spent money on his behalf, but the stocking simply made him laugh.
His very own pair of Christmas antlers-to go on top of his Santa hat. A red nose that flashed-‘Wear it now,’ Henry decreed, and he did. A mango-a perfect piece of fruit, wrapped with care, a vast red ribbon around it. He stared at the mango, and Jack grinned and handed him a knife and a plate and said, ‘Eat it now, mate-cos it’s Christmas.’ So he took off his red nose and spread mango from one ear to the other and it was the best thing he’d ever eaten.
What else? A boat made of ice lolly sticks-‘I wanted to make you a Ferrari,’ Henry told him, ‘but you’ve already got one. And this floats. I’ve put water in the bath all ready. You want to see?’ So they had to troop into the bathroom and watch Henry’s boat-the Jennifer-Patsy-take her maiden voyage round the bath, and then they had to rescue the Jennifer-Patsy and haul Patsy out of the bathtub and dry her, and then dry themselves, and then watch as Guy opened his last present, which was a glitzy magazine titled How to Plan Your Perfect Wedding.
‘Lorna’s idea, mate, not ours,’ Jack said hastily, and then they were all laughing, and Lorna was handing round mince pies and it was time to take the Ferrari on its Santa run.
Which was crazy all by itself.
Santa-the local police chief-was waiting at the police station. With a paper bag of mince pies at his side to keep his strength up, Guy collected Santa and his lollies. Then he followed Santa’s directions and made a clean sweep of Sandpiper Bay. Santa rang his bell with such strength that Guy’s ears would take months to recover. From every house came children and adults and oldies, and Santa tossed lollies indiscriminately. Even from the vast houses owned by the squillionaires came kids and dogs and men and women, all at various stages of Christmas, all smiling, all cheering as they got their lollies and then disappearing back into their homes to celebrate the festive season.
Their last stop was back at the farm. Santa had arranged for his wife to collect him from there. Santa emptied the remains of his sack onto their veranda, and then drove away in state in the town’s police car.
‘Now dinner,’ Lorna declared, and Guy wondered how he could eat any more. But of course he did-and how could he ever have thought he couldn’t? He remembered the sophisticated Christmases he’d endured as a kid. There was no comparison. He ate turkey and gravy and crispy roast potatoes and every sort of vegetable he could imagine with relish. Then Jack demanded he light the pudding-and how could he not eat pudding after that?
‘Brandy sauce, brandy butter, cream or ice-cream?’ Lorna asked.
Jenny grinned and said, ‘He’ll have all four, Mum, just like everyone else.’
And Guy looked across the table and thought, She’s calling Lorna Mum and suddenly…suddenly he wanted to do exactly the same.
If he married Jenny he could…
Henry was down on the floor, subsiding into an afternoon nap with Patsy, and Guy thought, I wonder what the quarantine regulations are for taking dogs into the US.
‘It’s not going to happen,’ Jenny said softly, and he looked across the table and saw a flash of sadness behind the laughter that had been there all morning.
It was as if she knew that what he was offering was serious-but it wasn’t enough.
