‘I send her birthday and Christmas cards, and always put a letter in. Isn’t that enough?’
‘I would say not, actually. She lost one of her sons in a shocking accident. I remember her being in a dreadful state at his funeral.’
‘So were we all. She hogged all the limelight, as if she was the only one entitled to any grief.’
‘She didn’t, Mum. It wasn’t a competition.’
‘Well, that’s how it felt.’
‘And what happened to Stanley?’
‘Nothing. He’s about ninety-two and fit as a flea, as they say.’
Both girls waited tensely, expecting Thea to defend herself further. Instead, she clapped her hands, and said ‘Off you go, out of here. I’ll come as well. We can have two rounds of presents, before I have to peel potatoes – right?’
‘Let’s get on with it, then,’ said Drew, leading the way. He settled onto his knees beside the tree and reached at random for a parcel.
‘Hey!’ Thea objected. ‘We’ve never done it like that,’ referring to her years with Carl and Jessica. Drew had assumed it was perfectly acceptable for two or three people to open presents at the same time – wrongly, according to his second wife. Stephanie hurriedly put a hand on her father’s arm and said, ‘I think Thea’s way is best.’ She leant towards her young brother. ‘It’ll go more slowly like that, don’t you think? It’s horrible when everything’s opened.’
‘Wise child,’ said Jessica, and Timmy nodded.
‘Indeed,’ said Drew, slightly rueful. Everyone silently acknowledged the ghostly presence of Karen, who had somehow become obscurely in the wrong for failing to enforce due present-opening discipline when she was alive. ‘So, we start with the youngest, then. Let’s find something for Tim first.’
‘You’ll be Santa, Dad,’ said Timmy, handing his father the traditional hat. ‘Find me one from an aunt.’
And thus another tradition was born. Drew unearthed a cube-shaped parcel wrapped with silver paper. ‘To Timothy from Auntie Jocelyn,’ he read.
‘Good old Joss,’ murmured Thea. ‘She’s always wanted more nephews and nieces.’
The present turned out to be a kit for making a model of the London Eye, with small pieces of metal. ‘Wow,’ said Jessica. ‘Looks complicated.’
‘Expensive,’ added Thea with a quick grimace. Her younger sister was not particularly well-off, and if she spent this much on a step-nephew, what was she giving to her own children?
‘Good start,’ said Drew in a Santa Claus sort of voice.
‘Now me,’ said Stephanie.
She was handed her gift from Jessica – which was a bit higher up the ladder of likely value than Stephanie might have wished. It was much better to start with the small things and work upwards to the main event. She unwrapped it to find a denim rucksack decorated with embroidered motifs. She held it up dubiously. ‘Great,’ she said.
‘Girls always need bags,’ said Jessica. ‘You’ll be off travelling any time now, and this can be your day bag.’
‘Travelling?’ echoed Drew, as if worried that he’d missed something.
‘She’s joking,’ said Thea. ‘It’s perfect for staying overnight with schoolmates, or visiting relations.’
‘No,’ said Stephanie. ‘I’m going to use it for school. Thank you, Jessica. It’s lovely.’
The round continued, followed by another one, with all five expressing delight. Thea then went back to the kitchen and applied herself to peeling potatoes. Stephanie drifted after her a few minutes later, and noticed a rather gloomy expression on Thea’s face. Was she perhaps feeling sad about Carl, Stephanie wondered. It must be as hard for her as it was for Drew and his children, missing Karen. Carl had obviously been just as nice as her own mother. How strange, she mused, the way some people died when they were only forty and others lived to ninety-two. How uncertain it made everything seem, when you couldn’t ever know which group you yourself might fall into.
‘Are you thinking about Jessica’s dad?’ she asked warily.
Thea looked at her with a warm smile. ‘Not really. Are you thinking about your mum?’
‘A bit. It’s sort of like they’re watching us, don’t you think?’
Sudden tears filled Thea’s eyes, evidently startling her as much as they did Stephanie. ‘Gosh – I didn’t see that coming. You’re right, though. They do feel closer, don’t they? And they both loved Christmas, didn’t they?’
Drew came into the kitchen, looking reproachful. ‘I heard you. You’re talking about dead people, aren’t you? Give us a break – eh, Steph?’ He grinned at his daughter, but the smile didn’t look very genuine to Stephanie. The red hat with white fur trim struck her as ridiculous.
‘We were feeling a bit sad,’ she told Drew. ‘In quite a nice way, really.’
‘She started it,’ Thea accused, with a sniff. ‘Now go and play with your new toys while I baste the turkey. You’ll make me forget some vital procedure if you stay in here talking.’
‘I haven’t got any new toys,’ said Stephanie with dignity. ‘How long are you going to be? We want to open more presents.’
‘Five minutes.’
Over the next hour most of the parcels were unwrapped. It was all over far too quickly, and even with the big meal still to come, there was a growing sense of the best being over already. Stephanie’s main present had been a lavish chess set with onyx pieces and board. She had started to learn to play over a year earlier, and was proving to be more than capable of plotting moves and grasping the big picture. ‘Who’s going to play with me?’ she demanded.
‘Who do you think?’ said Drew, who was less than averagely competent at the game. ‘You’ll have to get the school to start a club.’
‘I think there is one already, but they’re all Year Nine and above. I told you that before.’ But she was deeply happy to be the owner of such a handsome set. It
