From everything James has said, I expected his parents to be quiet and reserved, and I still can’t quite reconcile the fact they’re the owners of Nutcracker Lane who I used to see there all the time, who were on first-name terms with my grandma and always used to stop for a chat. When I was little, I remember being convinced they were the real Santa and Mrs Claus, and I imagined them living in a warm and homely castle in the North Pole. This house is the opposite of what I expected.
James has taken the seat next to me, although the table is so huge that it feels like there’s at least a mile between us, physically and metaphorically. He smiles a gentle half-smile when I catch his eyes, and then jumps up to help his mum when she reappears with a tray full of bowls, but she shoos him away in case he drops something with his one hand.
Judy sets out bowls of buffet food, more suited to a summer salad bar than Christmas Eve dinner. It’s all neatly arranged lettuce leaves and summer veggies like tomatoes and cucumber, and finger sandwiches, breadsticks and dips, and a cheese and cracker selection. It’s nice but it’s not exactly festive. Maybe it’s easier. She knew I was coming for dinner and didn’t have a clue what I might like, so it makes sense that there’s a selection.
‘You’ve been busy,’ I say as I thank her and help myself to a mini sausage roll.
‘Oh gosh, no. Fresh from the caterer. I would never have the patience to do all that.’ She looks thoughtful as she sits down. ‘Sorry, it’s probably not the kind of family Christmas you’re used to. We do Christmas all year round. By the time it’s December, we don’t have the headspace left for a real Christmas.’
Well, she’s got a lot on her plate. I know they’re worried about the business and Raymond’s illness and how she’s going to cope when the worst happens. If I was dealing with what this family are, I wouldn’t have time to potch about with Christmas dinner either.
Raymond has taken some food but isn’t eating, and I can’t help noticing his hollow cheeks and pale skin, a world away from the jolly Santa he used to be.
‘Nia, I must apologise for rejecting your application every year. If we’d known …’ he starts.
‘It’s okay. I think everything happens for a reason, and it turns out that this was the perfect year to finally get accepted.’ I look over and catch James’s eyes again, and he smiles, but I quickly avert my eyes when I catch Judy watching us.
Things aren’t right between us – I know that. He was almost silent on the way over in the car. He put a Christmas radio station on quietly for me, and I got the impression that he didn’t want to push me or pressure me in any way. The gift of a share in the lane was one thing, and I think he’s terrified of making it seem like he’s trying to buy me off or expecting anything in return.
‘I love your ideas for the lane,’ Raymond says, still not touching his food. ‘When James told us, we both smacked our heads and wondered why we’d never thought of something like it ourselves.’
‘Our past few years have been so caught up with budgeting and profit margins that you forget what it’s really about. I haven’t even been able to steel myself to go down there because I knew it would upset me too much, and with Ray …’ She trails off.
I fight the urge to get up and give her a hug.
‘And him and his arm right before opening day.’ Raymond picks up the conversation, indicating towards James and I follow his line of sight.
His arm. James’s cheeks are red and there’s a plea in his eyes when he looks at me. They have absolutely no idea that his injuries extend further than a broken arm.
‘It’s all been too much this year,’ his father continues. ‘I’ve got so caught up in searching for ways to cut costs and hunting for prospective investors, and other potential sources of income to save the lane, we didn’t even consider the possibility that the lane could save itself.’ He grins a toothy grin at me. ‘With the right people on board, that is.’
It makes me go warm all over and I can’t help the little thrill that goes through me at the thought of being part of Nutcracker Lane permanently.
‘We haven’t been the right people for a while now …’ Judy says.
‘All of these.’ Raymond waves a thin hand towards an armchair where the files are now dumped. ‘Potential investors who wanted Nutcracker Lane to become something else. We couldn’t bear to sell it and see it destroyed, but my energy has gone into … other things.’
The unspoken words hang in the air. Judy swallows hard.
‘James taking over the accounts was a godsend, although we’d started to think it had gone too far downhill to be saved. Of course, we didn’t know quite how bad things were …’ A look flies between him and James.
It makes me understand something I didn’t really understand before now.
Just like they clearly don’t know how badly he’s hurt, James tried to save them from the worry of Nutcracker Lane’s finances. When he took over a few years ago, he must’ve
