Christmas with Billy and Me: A Short Story (4 page)

December always seems to flash by in an instant, but it’s been particularly quick this year. It’s already Christmas Eve and time to close the shop for a week over the festive season – bring on some time curled up on the sofa in my PJs with lots of chocolates and plenty of sleep. We’ve been rushed off our feet, tirelessly working our way through the Christmas orders – dozens of homemade mince pies, Christmas cakes and puddings have been filled with boozy fruit and delivered to happy customers, each accompanied by a complimentary home-decorated red Christmas bauble to hang on their trees, on which I’ve handwritten in gold, glittery writing, ‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents’ – a quote from
Little Women
. I felt the need to give them all a little token of my gratitude for helping to pull me through the last six months. It would’ve been a lot tougher without their support and friendship.

With all our normal Christmas chores completed, and the shop announced as closed to the public at midday, it’s time to move on to our secret task and unload the boxes containing all of our hard work, so that we can get the shop looking as romantic and Christmassy as possible for the big proposal.

I haven’t
come any closer to finding out who The Proposer is and that’s because they’ve kept their emails short and succinct, even when I’ve tried to fish around for more information. Billy, Mum, Colin and I have spent so much time speculating that we’re all sure to be disappointed with whoever turns up. Mum thinks that them saying they were at the Christmas gathering was a ruse to throw us all off the scent and that they have other reasons for wanting us to keep it quiet – like the pair being famous or something equally as ridiculous. Colin is adamant it’s one of Mrs Sleep’s brood – well, there are so many of them that the odds are in his favour there. Billy is still harping on about it being a lesbian couple, while I honestly haven’t a clue.

Before Billy and I open the lid to the first box of Christmas paraphernalia, the phone rings and interrupts us. It’s Mum, sounding slightly out of breath and frustrated – which isn’t like her at all.

‘You OK, Mum?’ I ask, concerned.

‘Sorry, Sophie,’ she almost shouts. ‘I’m with Colin and the kids. We’re just getting the last few bits in for tomorrow – it’s so busy here.’

‘Where are you?’ I ask, relieved that it’s only Christmas shopping stressing her out and nothing more serious.

‘The supermarket. Seriously, who decides to wait until Christmas Eve to get their Christmas dinner sorted, hey?’ she says with a slight huff. ‘Is there anything you need?’

‘Nope,
I think we’re all sorted on the food front, Mum.’

‘Nice and organized, I’m sure. I thought I’d only forgotten the cranberry sauce, but now we’re here Colin’s picking up cheese, chocolates and all sorts.’

‘We have to make the most of the special offers while they’re on,’ I hear him protest in the background. ‘They’ve gone into panic mode and slashed the prices on everything to get rid of it all – we’d be silly not to buy this stuff.’

‘Honestly, it’s not even the kids asking for it,’ she sighs, probably shaking her head at him as she does so, although I can hear she’s not actually annoyed. If anything she finds Colin’s enthusiasm endearing and contagious. Like Billy, he injects life into an event. ‘Is it OK if we pop in a little later? Before the couple arrive, obviously. Charlotte wants to put the angel on the Christmas tree herself, bless her.’

‘It’s just Charlotte who wants to come over, then?’ I tease, knowing that they’re all far too excited to stay away.

‘All right, I also want to have a little nose,’ she giggles, making me laugh with her.

‘Of course you can. Want to come over around seven? I’m hoping everything will be done by then – if not I’ll be really panicking,’ I say, tapping my fingers on the top of one of the boxes that’s been patiently awaiting my attention all morning but now screams in protest at the delay in its unpacking.

‘Don’t worry, I know you’ll be fine.’

‘With
any luck!’

‘Just let us know if you get stuck and need a hand with anything.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’

‘Oh my goodness – Colin’s found the biggest box of Quality Street I’ve ever seen. Honestly, we’re all going to be ten stone heavier by the end of the week if he gets his way.’

I can’t help but laugh at the image of Colin naughtily dropping things in the trolley in the hope that Mum won’t tell him off and make him take them out again.

‘Ooh, June!’ she suddenly calls, the abruptly loud sound causing me to jump and momentarily go deaf. ‘Sophie, I’ve just bumped into June Hearne – I’m on the phone to Sophie,’ she obviously says to June.

‘Oh, how lovely,’ I hear her say. ‘Tell her I’ve had to come out for more mince pies already – Claire’s Steven’s already scoffed the ones I ordered from her,’ she says, clearly put out by her daughter’s boyfriend’s huge appetite. ‘He’s never joined us for Christmas before – I never knew he could eat so much. Luckily they’re off out somewhere tonight, but I’m starting to worry I’ll run out of food tomorrow now.’

‘Oh really? Well, you can always come to ours – Colin’s buying enough to see us through to next Christmas –’

‘Mum,’ I call through the giggles that follow, trying to get her attention once more.

‘Yes, dear?’ she eventually answers.

‘I’ve
got to get started here – but I’ll see you around seven.’

‘OK, love. Don’t forget – just give us a buzz if you need us.’

‘Will do, Mum. Send my love to June,’ I say before hanging up.

* * *

Donned in fluffy red Christmas hats to complete the festive look (Billy’s idea – he whipped them out of his bag as soon as I got off the phone to Mum), the hours whizz by in a blur as we turn on the Christmas tunes and sing along to Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, Michael Bublé and many more. I can’t help but feel like one of Santa’s little helpers as we cheerily decorate the Christmas tree, sprinkle fake snow all around us and crack on with our list of tasks. Every time I look at Billy I can’t help but smile; more than ever my little shop exuberates love and romance, making me excited for our Christmas in Rosefont Hill, and our future together. I’m overcome with a feeling of completeness.

By 6:55pm we’re done. Well, I’m mostly done – being the perfectionist that I am means that I can always find something to faff over. Is a job ever really finished? Is it? Not in my world.

‘This looks incredible!’ beams Billy as he looks around at our handiwork, placing his hand on the small of my back and gently stroking it up and down.

I stop playing with the plate of Christmas-themed
cupcakes (I was checking to see if the white chocolate snowflakes were all sitting at the same angle) and join him in looking around. It’s beautiful. Garlands of fresh fir, roses, pinecones and mistletoe line the counter and sit on the weathered-looking white cabinet that usually holds gifts for people to buy and books for them to pick up and read whilst in the shop.

We don’t usually have a Christmas tree in here as there’s not much room for one, but at The Proposer’s insistence we managed to buy a plump real one for the occasion. It’s completely covered in dancing fairy-lights, and hanging from its branches are homemade wooden hearts with festive or romantic words painted onto them – Noël, love, peace, happiness, together, family … there’s even a ‘Santa’. There are also several pinecones that we’d collected from our garden and managed to turn into woodland creatures by creatively adding some further bits of wood on to them. That was actually Aaron’s idea as he’d seen something on
Art Attack
and thought it might be fun. The squirrels are a little questionable, but the owls look fantastic! We’ve also sewn stars, Christmas trees and some more hearts (you can never have too many hearts when there’s about to be a proposal) using red and green felt – it looks absolutely stunning, especially with the added magic of the lights flashing around it all.

It was impossible to put the tree in a corner as it’s so big, but thankfully it doesn’t take up too much of the limited floor space – instead it just stands proudly
in the room, demanding our festive attention. We’ve cleared away a few of the tables to make space for it, but were told not to worry too much about moving out furniture. I suggested clearing all of them away and just keeping one small table and two chairs for the couple to romantically sit at, but The Proposer thought it might take away the heart of the shop (apparently the clutter is part of our charm), so most of it stayed. Instead, I’ve decorated them with small festive posies – red poinsettia leaves, mistletoe (yes, more of it – it’s another necessity) and holly sit in a ring around chunky cream church candles, which are just waiting to be lit a little closer to the couple’s arrival. I figure we’ll do that at the same time we put all the fairy-lights on. In fact, the Christmas tree isn’t the only place those magical little sparkling lights have been hung – we’ve also popped more around the cabinet so that they’re draped over books and on hooks on the walls. Billy suggested having one wall covered in lights to give it a waterfall effect, but I had to put my foot down there – it would’ve been too much with the huge tree and all the candles that are not only on the tables, but lining the empty spots on the counter and around the edges of the room too. The place would’ve lit up like Times Square, rather than appearing dimly lit and atmospheric, which is what’s been requested.

‘Wow!’ I hear Aaron proclaim as he, Charlotte, Mum and Colin walk through the door.

Charlotte’s face lights up as she takes in the
room – her eyes dancing around, trying their best to take in every detail. Colin gives me a chuffed little wink and a nod of the head, clearly approving, while Mum starts crying.

‘It’s just so magical!’ she laughs at herself, wiping her eyes.

Colin grabs her hand.

‘OK, Charlotte,’ I say, gesturing to the angel in her hands. ‘You ready?’

After a quick glance at Colin, she looks down at the delicately feathered object and nods, before making her way towards Billy, who is waiting by the ladder at the base of the tree. Placing her spare hand in his, she slowly makes her way up the ladder, being sure to bring both feet together on each step. When she is high enough to reach the top, she stops and gives the angel in her hands a look of utter love. Bringing it to her lips, she gently kisses its head, closing her eyes tightly as she does so. We all watch as Billy places his hands around her waist to support her as she leans into the tree and slowly places the final touch to it.

My face tingles as I fight off the urge to react. I decided not to tell anyone about the angel taking on Pauline’s name. I felt as though it was something to be kept between the two of us. Not that I thought Mum wouldn’t understand or that she’d be put out by Pauline’s presence – not at all. It just felt like something for me and Charlotte to share and keep between ourselves.

The
wonderful thing about Colin is that he’s always worked hard to keep Pauline’s memory alive. He’s forever talking about her and letting the children find new ways to express their feelings about her. It’s a total contrast to how my mum and I reacted following my dad’s sudden death. We shut ourselves off from the world and became completely closed books. We never spoke about Dad or the fact that he was taken away from us so abruptly. So unfairly. It was years later, once I’d met Billy, that we started having proper conversations about him and us as a family when I was growing up. One thing I’ve learnt from my own experiences with losing a parent is that communication is incredibly important.

Colin’s doing a wonderful job with his children’s loss – it’s fascinating to watch. Charlotte’s idea behind her angel isn’t morbid, sad, shocking or uncomfortable – it’s simply a way of her honouring her mum’s memory. Of making her a part of her present and her future, rather than her being left in the past and something she can’t talk about. It’s beautiful.

Mum walks over to me and squeezes my arm. I can tell she’s about to leave it there, but the emotion of the season gets the better of her again and she decides to pull me in for a hug instead. We rarely hug. Rarely show each other any form of physical comfort. It’s an amazing feeling to be hugged by my mum.

‘What’s the time?’ I ask, breaking away from our embrace – suddenly worrying that we’re running behind schedule and that the couple are due to
arrive any second. I wasn’t expecting things to get so emotional.

‘Seven-twenty,’ says Colin, looking at his watch.

‘You lot better go!’ I start, still gripping on to Mum’s hand, not really wanting to shoo them out so suddenly.

‘Can we see what it all looks like without the main lights on first, love?’ asks Mum.

‘I don’t know if we’ve got time now, Mum – they’re going to be here in, like, ten minutes …’

‘Oh, please!’ begs Aaron. It’s the first thing he’s said since his initial reaction when he walked into the shop twenty minutes ago and I simply can’t refuse.

‘Right, Billy – pass me those matches. Let’s light these candles first. It’s probably good to see what it all looks like before they arrive anyway …’ I mutter nervously, suddenly attacked by a swarm of butterflies in my tummy.