The Christmas Angel (35 page)

‘Do you think you could take this down to the village,
Janna
dear? It’s the
Advent Newsletter
. We’re a little bit late this year, I’m afraid.’

‘I’ll be finished in a minute,’ Janna says, ‘and Sister Ruth will be back soon. I’ll enjoy a walk.’

They smile at each other in complete understanding and then Mother Magda stands up, takes her mug and washes it up, and goes back to her work.

‘So it really is all over. Whatever it was,’ says Pa. ‘Well, I can’t say I’m sorry, though I’m just so sorry for poor old Dossie.’

Mo is silent. ‘It’s all over,’ Dossie told her. ‘He was married but I didn’t know, and I’m gutted and I don’t want to talk about it.’

It is very cold. The ghost of a new moon hangs low in the sky and the sunset light is dying rapidly. The dogs potter ahead, noses to the hard, frozen ground; their paws crunch in the thick frost beneath bare thorny hedgerows where small birds roost, shifting uneasily and twittering anxiously.

‘Anyway,’ Pa is saying, ‘at least she’ll be able to concentrate now. She’s been away with the fairies these last few weeks. Poor old Doss.’

Mo’s heart aches for Dossie and she slips her hand under Pa’s arm as if seeking comfort in its warmth. He presses his elbow against her hand, responding to her gesture.

‘She’ll get over it,’ he prophesies. ‘She always does. Thank God I took that decision about The Court. She’s got a home, Mo, and she’s told us how much she’s looking forward to making a change and not having to dash about all over the county. And Christmas will be fun. We’ll see to that. It’s good that there are some extra people coming. Always a sound move to have friends as well as family at Christmas. Keeps everyone civilized. Pity about Adam, though.’

They walk for a while in silence. Both are reluctant to talk about Adam. Adam has told them that he won’t be down for Christmas. He and Natasha have split up, he tells them, it just hasn’t worked out, and his company is transferring him to London. He’s got a lot to sort out in his new office, and then there’s the move into the flat he’ll be renting. Perhaps in the New Year he’ll get down to see them …

Mo agrees to everything, sad that he won’t be with them but not sorry that they’ll never have to see Natasha and her children again. He refuses to disclose the reasons for the break-up, although he says he doesn’t think he’s cut out for fatherhood, and that he’ll be in touch. The now familiar guilt surfaces and she struggles to remain cheerful. She concentrates her mind on Christmas Day. It will be fun to have guests, and Jakey and Clem will be coming to lunch, and afterwards they’ll listen to the Queen and have presents from the tree. Clem will be his usual comforting source of strength, and Jakey will certainly keep everyone in good spirits. Yet still she thinks about Adam, longing for him to be happy.

‘After all,’ says Pa, ‘he can always come back to us if ever he needs to.’

They turn for home, calling to the dogs, trying to feel more hopeful.

‘All right, Mo?’ Pa asks as they near the gates to The Court, and she is able to answer truthfully.

‘I’m fine,’ she says firmly. ‘It’s going to be a good Christmas. Come on, let’s get in and light the fire. I’m frozen.’

Kitty wanders from room to room in the flat, moving small ornaments, staring out of windows. Her feelings of anger and pain occasionally give place to a sense of loss and loneliness.
Mummy
’s spirit still inhabits the flat and Kitty misses her terribly; now, when she remembers her, all she can think of is how much Mummy loved Rupert and how he joshed with her and teased her. What would Mummy have said to all this? Once, she remembers, way back when Rupert was being a bit silly with a rather attractive acquaintance, and Kitty had complained about it, Mummy had said: ‘Well, you wouldn’t want a man nobody else wanted, would you?’ It had been a bit of a shock, frankly, and Kitty had felt almost as if she’d been silly to mind.

But this is different; quite different. How can she possibly ever forgive him for allowing that woman to believe that she, Kitty, was dead? It’s almost as if he were wishing that she were – and she can’t forget it or forgive it.

‘Can you get it into your head that we never discussed you at all?’ he shouts during one of the telephone conversations that have taken place during the last few days. ‘We talked about work … Just listen, will you? That rumour came from Chris at Penharrow. He completely misunderstood that you’d simply gone back to Bristol when your father died so suddenly and he’d got it into his head that it was you … Yes, I
know
it’s horrible, but you can’t blame me if Chris heard some kind of rumour and elaborated on it. He must have mentioned it to Dossie Pardoe when she checked up on me after I asked him about the Fill the Freezer thing when I saw it on his website. He was the link. For God’s
sake
, Kitty …’

Rupert is lodged in one of their cottages at St Mawes. He has nowhere else to go. Perhaps he is seeing Dossie Pardoe – but no, Kitty shakes her head. Remembering the shock on Dossie’s face, Kitty instinctively knows that whatever was going on between them is over. Such deception is unforgivable.

Kitty raises her chin and hardens her heart. She is prepared now for Sally, who has been away visiting her daughter and is now home, and who is arriving any moment for a cup of tea and to catch up on the news.

Sitting over the tea cups – Mummy’s lovely delicate old Worcester – Kitty summons all her courage and tells Sally that she thinks that Rupert and she might be going their separate ways. Sally is utterly shocked.

‘He simply can’t face the idea of living in the city,’ Kitty says bravely, ‘and I can’t face going back to scrubbing down walls and camping. It’s a complete impasse and neither of us will back down.’

‘But I thought you were going to buy a house out near us in Leigh Woods and Rupert was going to renovate old properties for student lets.’

Kitty is ready for this one. ‘He says that doing up houses for scruffy students simply isn’t his idea of restoration. He needs to be creative.’

‘Well, yes, I can understand that when you look at his work. But, Kitty! You can’t seriously be considering giving up on your marriage over this. There must be other compromises.’ She looks at Kitty, a ‘come on, you can trust me’ look. She leans forward a little. ‘It’s not just that, is it? What’s happened?’

Beneath the caring expression Kitty sees a glimpse of the dreadful glee and she knows very well that her dear old friend has sniffed at the truth. For a terrible moment Kitty imagines the gossip – ‘You’ll never guess …’ ‘Well, we all know old Rupe, don’t we … ?’ ‘Poor old Kitty. Imagine how humiliating …’ – and she has to stiffen her spine and stare down Sally’s spuriously sympathetic gaze.

‘It is exactly that,’ she says firmly. ‘I’ve realized that those
years
with Rupert were like having a long holiday, though it was hard work too, and when I came back to look after Mummy I suddenly felt that I’d come home. It’s wonderful to be back in the city and in this lovely flat. To be able to go to the theatre or see a film and have a social life again is heaven. If Rupert wants to be creative out in the sticks then he can do it all on his own. We’ve both learned to live apart over the last year and now we find we rather like it. After all, it was you who said I shouldn’t give in on this one.’

‘Well.’ Sally sits back in her chair, startled, put out, now that Kitty has challenged her. ‘Yes, I know I said that … but even so. Still, if it’s what you both want … but I think you’re being rather extreme.’

Kitty suspects that Sally doesn’t really believe her, and that she will say as much to Bill, but suddenly she doesn’t care. Having spoken the words she is filled with a terrible desolation and she wants to be alone so that she can burst into tears.

‘Bastard!’ Janna says. ‘I can’t believe it. Honestly!’

Dossie tries to smile. ‘Your language hasn’t been improved by living with nuns,’ she says.

Janna makes a face. ‘Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, but Sister Emily’s working on it. Honestly, though, Dossie. I’d’ve stayed there that evening and made a big row.’

Dossie shakes her head. ‘No you wouldn’t. That’s not your style any more than it’s mine.’

‘No.’ Janna looks sombre. She is remembering just such a scene that she unwittingly precipitated between Nat and his mother. How hateful it had been! ‘No,’ she says again. ‘You’re right. I hate rows. But what will you do? Apart from taking him off your Christmas card list.’

‘What
can
I do? I suppose I just forget him and pretend it never happened. I’ve dumped him very explicitly by text though it seems there’s nothing to dump.’

‘And you haven’t heard anything?’

Dossie shakes her head. ‘Nothing. I thought he might at least text back.’

‘Coward!’ Janna says fiercely. ‘Wouldn’t I love to tell him what I think! What about Mo and Pa?’

‘It’s just as well they never met him. I’ve told Mo that it’s all off, and both of them are being painfully tactful. Luckily they’re being distracted by excited people writing or emailing to book their holidays and making plans for next year. And then one of Pa’s old chums has been recently widowed and he asked if he could come for the New Year. We weren’t going to start until around Easter-time but we talked about it and then asked him if he’d like to come for Christmas. He was so grateful it was really touching. And we’ve got one of Mo’s cousins coming too, as well as Gran’mère and Gran’père, so I foresee it working up into a very big jolly by the time we’ve finished.’

‘Well, that’s good,’ Janna says. ‘Isn’t it?’

Dossie nods. ‘I’ll be busy and it’ll be fun … But I still miss him. I can’t seem to stop the way I feel about him. Apart from anything else I was such a fool. I should have guessed.’

Watching her downcast face, Janna is filled with rage and compassion. She hates feeling so helpless when Dossie is suffering. Not knowing what else to do, she gets up, refills the kettle and rinses out the empty mugs.

‘Let’s have some more tea,’ she says. ‘What about Clem? What does he say?’

‘Nothing,’ says Dossie firmly. ‘He never knew anything about it. It’s just you, really. You’re the only person I can talk
to
. Sorry about that. Anyway, let’s forget about Rupert for a while. How’s it going? Are you really settled in? It all looks very comfortable and you seem very relaxed. No regrets?’

‘You know ’tis weird, but I feel really happy here. Having taken the decision all those awful terrors kind of melted away. I’m really busy, mind, but I like that, and I still get time to get out on the cliffs or down into Padstow to meet up with a few mates. I just feel I’ve dropped into a ready-made family but without the in-fighting real families seem to have. And ’tis great having you and Clem and Jakey. You’re all part of it.’

‘And Sister Ruth?’

Janna laughs. ‘Sister Ruth needs me just now so we’re OK. She’s not so bad really, and Sister Nichola is there like a …’ She hesitates, searching for a word.

‘A buffer state?’ suggests Dossie.

‘Yeah! That’s it. She keeps us nice and polite to each other.’

‘Sister Emily and Mother Magda must be thrilled to bits with you.’

‘I shall get a gold star,’ Janna says contentedly. ‘It’ll be my Christmas present. Talking of which, I shall need some ideas from you for a very special Christmas Day lunch. Sister Emily is already dropping hints.’

Rupert sits in the pub, staring at his pint. He’s just had another totally fruitless telephone conversation with Kitty and he’s feeling at the end of his tether. She’s told him flatly that she can’t see a future for them, that she certainly has no intention of moving from the flat or of buying any other properties. She’s in a position to call all the shots. Now that Mummy’s dead, Kitty is a wealthy woman.

He picks up his glass and sips reflectively. If they separate she will be entitled to half of his properties and income –
but
, by the same token, he will be entitled to half of hers. He thinks about it: pretty much six of one and half a dozen of the other. Neither of them will lose financially but he feels angry and hard done by: nothing much has happened, after all. Yet Kitty is quite happy to walk away from their marriage without giving him the benefit of the doubt. She is prepared to wreck it all because of Dossie’s chance remark.

Rupert thinks about Dossie. He’s had a furious text from her, which he has not answered. He doesn’t blame her for sending it but for the last few days he’s been trying to convince himself that there’s a very faint chance that she might be able to forgive him. If he’s honest, he knows in his heart that he’s completely finished as far as Dossie is concerned, but he hasn’t wanted to face it. Even if Kitty is really serious – and he still can’t quite believe that she is – he knows that he doesn’t have any future with Dossie.

He finishes his pint. Suddenly he doesn’t give a damn about either of them. He has property, money, and he can find himself a new exciting project: something that will thoroughly occupy his thoughts and his imagination, something he can work on and to which he can give all his mind and his energy. He imagines his future – if he has one – in Bristol, endlessly paying back for his little lapse by humbly following Kitty around to her parties and bridge clubs and being patronized by Sally and Bill. Kitty will demand retribution and he shudders at the price he will have to pay.

If Kitty’s father hadn’t died so suddenly, if they hadn’t been apart so much during this last year, perhaps none of this would have happened. All those arguments and wasted weekends, during which they bickered about whether he should give up his work and move into the flat, have weakened them. The separation has shown up cracks in
the
relationship. Kitty values city life and her friends more than she values her marriage. If there was ever a chance of compromise it is over now, and he knows that she will never return to their former life together.

As for him, he is certain that he cannot live a life with no mental challenges, no work, no structure to his day – and especially not in a city. He remembers his relief each time he returned to the cottage; his satisfaction at the end of a productive day. Clearly they have reached an impasse.