Christmas at the Beach Cafe(22)

I tuned out, not listening either. My brain couldn’t cope. Yes, okay, I probably had sounded a bit flat when she’d phoned again last night, but that was only because I was kind of drained after the laptop incident and my resulting conversation with Jake, not because I wanted my parents to turn up on our doorstep. Hello! Newsflash! I wanted fewer people here in the flat, not more!

‘I did text!’ she added, as if that made it all right. ‘And Louise said she would too.’

I didn’t explain that I hadn’t looked at any more texts after Betty’s shocker. The less she knew about my little appearance in the tabloid press, the better. ‘So you’re planning to be here until . . .’ I said numbly as she gave me a perfumed kiss.

‘Well, Boxing Day probably. I said to Ruth we’d do presents with them and Lou that evening. That way I get to see all of my girls – perfect!’

‘Right,’ I said, trying to pull myself together. ‘Um . . . Well, you’d better come in, then. Let me carry something for you.’

Ed, Amber and Jake were all peering out the back door by now, looking as confused as I felt. ‘Hello,’ Ed said. ‘What a nice surprise. I’ll just get some boots on, and I’ll give you a hand.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Amber said, earning herself a double thumbs up from Dad.

‘You read my mind, love,’ he said.

‘I can’t quite believe you made it here,’ I said, following my mum round to the boot. ‘It sounded like the roads were going to be awful from the local news we heard.’

‘They were fine all the way to Wadebridge,’ Mum replied breezily, putting Monty down so he could wee into the snow. ‘Lot of fuss about nothing, if you ask me. The roads to Carrawen were slightly more hairy but your dad just took it slowly. And here we are!’

Here they were. And there went my last hopes for a quiet romantic Christmas. Ever since I’d broken that glass angel at the start of the month, it felt as if everything had gone wrong. ‘Great,’ I said, with an attempt at enthusiasm.

‘There we go,’ Mum said, passing us various bags and boxes to carry. ‘Oh, it’s so lovely to be here again. And a white Christmas too! What more could you ask for?’

The snow was still falling in thick soft flurries, but we weren’t going to starve, at least. Not with the enormous Christmas cake my mum produced, the cream-filled chocolate log Louise had donated, the turkey, the bag of King Edwards, the jar of cranberry jelly and a tin of Mum’s finest sugar-sprinkled shortbread. (The trifle was sadly the worse for wear as predicted.)

‘Oh, it does look pretty in here,’ Mum said, as she carried a box of presents up to the flat and started unpacking them under the tree in the living room. Then she noticed Jake’s sleeping bag on the sofa and the contents of his rucksack scattered in a two-metre radius around it. ‘Ahh,’ she said in the next breath. ‘They’re staying here too, then?’

‘They are,’ I confirmed. ‘Just until the snow melts anyway, whenever that’s going to be.’

Her face fell. ‘I didn’t think to check – I thought you were going to be on your own.’

‘I did too,’ I replied. ‘It’s been one surprise guest after another recently.’

Her eyes met mine. ‘Do you have room for us as well? I’m sorry. If I’d known you already had a house full, we wouldn’t have come. It’s just I thought – ’

‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘You and Dad can have the spare room. Jake’s on the sofa, and I’m sure I can borrow a camp bed from someone for Amber.’

‘Oh dear. Oh Evie. I thought this was a good idea, but now I can see that I’m just making things more complicated.’ She bit her lip. ‘Sorry, love. My plan was to sweep in and do all the work for you, not create even more.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said, not very convincingly.

She sat back on her heels and sighed. ‘If I’m honest, I’m here for selfish reasons too,’ she admitted, fiddling with the silver ribbon of the present nearest to her. ‘The first Christmas without Jo . . . I thought that coming here might make me feel as if I was closer to her.’ She reached over and squeezed my hand. ‘Sorry. I’ve been in a tizz about it for weeks, wishing I could see her again. She loved Christmas so much, she’s been on my mind even more than usual lately.’ She hung her head. ‘I should have asked you first though, rather than turning up like this.’

I hugged her, and suddenly my irritation trickled away. Jo had been on my mind a lot lately, too. Of course Mum had wanted to come here. The only real surprise was that she hadn’t arrived sooner. ‘I’m glad you came, then,’ I said. ‘We can raise a toast to her together on Christmas Day, can’t we?’