A Family For Christmas (32 page)

All that week the weather worsened, with snow
blowing in from the hills. By Christmas Eve the pavements were coated white and although there
was a steady stream of customers anxious to make last-minute purchases, they didn't dally.
By noon all the boxes had been sold, and the window on Nan's side of the shop was bare.
Grandfa Sam, looking ashen, began to cough and Nan insisted he close the shop.

‘If it continues snowing like this,
we'll have a white-out and there'll be no customers on the street anyway. Go and
rest beside the fire, I'll tidy up here and then be up to make you a brew. Good job I took
a basket of baking down to Jim earlier,' she muttered.

At the mention of James's father, Eliza ran
over to the window and stared out. The sky was dark, with lowering cloud ominously threatening
more snow, and everywhere was deserted.

‘I do hope James gets here soon,' she
cried.

Nan looked at her with wise old eyes. ‘I
rather fear he'll be lucky to get here at all, Eliza. Those hills up from Musby are steep
and get blocked by snowdrifts.'

‘But I've made him a cake,' she muttered, then
realized how stupid she sounded. ‘I hope he's all right,' she added,
recognizing how much he had come to mean to her.

‘Don't worry, he's a sensible
lad. He'll only attempt the journey if he thinks he's a fair chance of getting
through. Come away upstairs and we'll have a cup of tea. That'll make you feel
better,' Nan said, covering the counter with a cloth.

The family Christmas Eliza had so been looking
forward to didn't materialize. In fact, they didn't celebrate at all. Grandfa Sam
took to his bed, coughing and spluttering. While Nan fussed over him, doling out liberal doses
of linctus and rubbing his chest with liniment, Eliza found herself staring out of the window,
willing James to appear. Surely if he'd really wanted to see her he would have found some
way to get here, the gremlin in her head demanded. The day that should have been filled with joy
and celebration crawled past and it was with relief they tamped down the fire and went to
bed.

Although weak and still coughing, Grandfa Sam
insisted on opening the shop the day after Boxing Day.

‘Someone might be ill,' he said when
Nan complained he should be resting. Nan raised her eyebrows but knew better than to argue.

The morning dragged, with hardly a soul venturing
out in the abysmal weather. Nan spent the time showing Eliza how to make up new stock for the
shop. Then they replenished the depleted shelves, setting out dishes of scented soaps and salts
where the boxes had been. At noon, with not a customer to be seen, Nan persuaded the spluttering
Sam to take his luncheon break first.

‘I wonder if I should go and visit Jim. He might be running
low on bread,' Nan muttered.

Eliza looked out at the snow-filled sky.
‘I'll go, if you like,' she offered, suddenly wanting to be outside.

‘I'm not sure, dear. This is a bad
time of year for him, what with his wife going then.'

‘Oh, how terrible to die at
Christmas,' Eliza cried. ‘Had she been ill for long?'

‘Die? Ill? Why no, dear, I think you must
have gotten the wrong end of things. His wife ran off with James's uncle Wilf,
that's our younger son …'

‘Hush thy mouth, woman.' Grandfa
Sam's icy voice sliced the air, cutting Nan's explanation short as he hobbled back
into the shop. ‘We have no other son.'

The atmosphere in the rooms above the
apothecary's was as frosty as the weather outside. The arguments between Grandfa Sam and
Nan became increasingly bitter, reminding Eliza of life back home. She began to wonder if there
was any point in ever getting married. Perhaps she'd stay single, like Fay, for the woman
had always seemed happy with her own company.
Yes, so happy she couldn't wait to get
rid of you
, a voice inside her head reminded her. Even James hadn't bothered to come
to see her, she thought. Surely if he really cared he'd have found some way to brave the
elements.

Grandfa Sam's cough showed no sign of
improving, which didn't help his temper, and unless a customer braved the snow, he spent
most of his time sitting beside the fire in the parlour staring into the flames. Although they
were alone in the little shop for most of the time, Nan didn't say any more about
James's uncle and Eliza didn't like to ask. It seemed to her that families meant
trouble. She'd harden her heart from now on and concentrate on her work.

It was the middle of January before the weather
began to improve. Eliza was in the kitchen helping Nan to prepare their luncheon from the meagre
supplies left.

‘I'll be glad when the fishing fleet
can go out again and the butcher can get his supplies from the abattoir. Then
perhaps we can have something other than soup,' Nan
grumbled.

‘Your wish is my command,' said a
voice from the doorway.

‘James! You did give me a fright creeping
up on me like that,' Nan scolded, but she looked pleased to see him anyway.

Despite her resolve, as soon as she saw his dear
face, Eliza's heart began thumping in her chest.

‘Well, what kind of greeting is that, when
a man travels through snowdrifts and scales icebergs to bring his favourite ladies some decent
meat?' he laughed, placing a sack on the kitchen counter. ‘There, a brace of
pheasant, no less, plucked and ready for the pot.'

As Nan clapped her hands in delight and began
inspecting his spoils, James turned to Eliza.

‘I've missed you something terrible
these past few weeks. You wouldn't believe the number of times I set out to see you, only
to have to turn back,' he declared, gazing at her with those cornflower eyes.

Eliza cursed herself as she felt her cheeks
flush. ‘Well, it has been cold,' she conceded. He looked so crestfallen at her
response she wished she'd held her tongue. Despite everything, she really had missed him
more than she could ever have imagined.

A rasping cough cut through the silence.

‘Is Grandfa unwell, Nan?' he
asked.

‘He's been real poorly since before
Christmas. Nothing I try will ease that coughing for more than an hour.'

‘Has he seen the quack?'

Nan sighed. ‘You know your grandfa; he
insists there's
nothing a doctor can give
him he can't make up himself in his dispensary.'

‘Thinks the apothecary can heal himself,
eh? I'll go and see him,' James said, going through to the parlour without looking
again at Eliza.

‘Poor James, I think he was expecting a bit
more of a welcome than that, Eliza,' Nan chided.

Eliza sighed. ‘Well, he didn't hurry
himself, did he?'

Nan stared at her in surprise. ‘We've
just had the biggest freeze in history, Eliza,' she reminded her.

‘Besides, it seems to me relationships just
mean hurt,' Eliza muttered.

‘Whatever do you mean?' Nan
frowned.

‘Father bullied Mother, James's
father got hurt, you and Grandfa Sam have been arguing so much I bet you wish you lived by
yourself,' she burst out.

Nan stared at Eliza in amazement and the room was
heavy with silence.

‘Oh, Eliza,' she said sadly, ‘I
know Grandfa Sam and I have exchanged some pretty harsh words but underneath it all we love each
other dearly. I was that worried when he was ill and couldn't bear to think of life
without him.'

‘Oh,' Eliza muttered, realizing at
last that the woman's short temper had probably been masking her anxiety.

‘To live without love must surely be a sad
state of affairs.' Nan gave her one of her knowing looks. ‘Now maybe I've
misread the signs but you can't tell me you haven't missed James these past
weeks.'

‘Yes, but …'

‘No buts. You can't wrap yourself in
cotton wool in
case you get hurt. You're
worth more than that and so is James.'

‘I've been stupid, haven't
I?' Eliza admitted.

‘Not stupid, just a bit confused, maybe.
Now a man needs a bit of encouragement – that's if the woman wants his attentions,
of course,' Nan said, winking at Eliza then turning back to the pot. ‘Relationships
are a bit like a good meal: you take good ingredients, sprinkle them with seasoning to add
interest, then stir regularly with love so that the flavours combine and develop harmoniously.
Of course, you can have all the good constituents, but if they are thrown together any old how,
left to get on with it, or ignored even, well, you can't be surprised if they separate,
can you?'

Eliza stared at the woman as she took all this
in, then nodded. ‘Yes, I can see what you're saying.'

‘So that's the end of your
staying-by-yourself malarky?' Nan asked, eyeing Eliza shrewdly.

‘Yes,' she grinned.

‘Thank the Lord for that. Now go and make
the boy tea, then let him see some of that love I know is bubbling away inside you. I'll
be in when I've given this meal some attention,' she said, looking meaningfully at
Eliza.

James looked up warily as she entered the
parlour, but she gave him her brightest smile.

‘Tea, anyone?' she asked, going over
to lift the kettle from the fire.

‘Not for me, girl,' Grandfa Sam said.
‘Happen I'd like a bit of a nap.' He turned away so she didn't see the
wink he gave James.

‘Perhaps we could go for a walk, if you
wouldn't be too
cold?' James asked
lightly, but the irony wasn't lost on her.

‘I'd love to. I'll get my
shawl. I've lined it with a piece of material left over from my cloak but it will be
better if we can keep warm together.'

Beaming at the significance of her words, James
jumped to his feet.

The wind was rising again as they hurried along
by the harbour where the fishing boats had taken shelter once more. By tacit consent, they
turned into Carla's café where the proprietress greeted them effusively.

‘Ah, my
bambini
come in from the
chill. I will get you my speciality chocolatina on the house, yes?'

Settled at their favourite seats beside the fire,
James grinned at Eliza across the table. ‘Better late than never,' he said, handing
her a small package. ‘It was meant to be for Christmas of course, but …' He
shrugged. Carefully she folded back the paper and drew out a small purse.

‘It's beautiful, thank you,'
she whispered, stroking the soft leather.

‘Made it myself from an off-cut at the
tannery. Cleared it with Guv, of course. Thought with you making all that profit at the shop
you'd need something to put your wages in.'

She smiled, wondering how she could ever have
contemplated not seeing him again.

‘That's thoughtful, but we'll
need more customers if we're to break even this month. The weather's kept most
people indoors.'

‘I know. It's been driving me mad not
being able to visit you. It wasn't the happy family Christmas we'd been planning,
was it?'

She shook her head. ‘Poor Grandfa's been really
poorly and then he and Nan had a terrible spat and …' Her voice tailed off.

‘That doesn't sound like them. What
was it about?'

‘It was about your uncle, but I
didn't understand.'

‘They didn't tell you?'

‘Not really. Grandfa told Nan to be
quiet,' she said, moderating the truth.

‘It's a sorry tale. Grandfa and Nan
had two sons: my father, James, known as Jim, and Wilfred. Father fell in love with my mother,
Annie, they married and had me, but apparently she'd always had a thing for Wilf. Anyhow,
they ended up running off together.'

‘And she left you behind?' she asked,
wide-eyed.

‘Father made her choose.'

‘Oh, James, that's
terrible.'

‘Well, I was too young to know much about
it. Grandfa and Nan pitched in to help bring me up, but Father became bitter and turned in on
himself. Don't get me wrong, he's a good chap, just wary of women – apart from
Nan, of course. You can see why my mother's and uncle's names are never mentioned,
though.'

Eliza nodded, suddenly understanding more about
James as well.

‘That's why you are so close to your
grandparents.'

‘Yes, they've been my steadying
influence, I guess. And that's why I value their opinion,' he said, staring at her
intently. ‘Vowed never to get involved with a woman, but Nan soon put me right on that
score,' he grinned ruefully, and Eliza couldn't help silently sending up thanks for
the shrewd woman's advice. It would appear she'd been
instrumental in sorting them both out. ‘Well, water under
the bridge as they say, except …' He paused and took a sip of his drink, then stared
out of the window as if weighing up his next words.

‘Go on,' she encouraged.

‘Well, lots of things really. I'm
fond of you, Eliza, and would like us to spend more time together. I went spare as a spindle not
being able to reach you over the holiday, and it made me realize that long-distance
relationships aren't a good idea. Obviously, you weren't as bothered.'

‘I'm sorry for earlier. I was
confused until Nan put me straight,' she explained. ‘I really did miss you.'
She paused, deciding it would be futile to say any more but the words poured out nonetheless.
‘Why, I even made you a cake,' she cried.

His eyes lit up. ‘You did?'

‘Yes, it was full of currants and spice.
Nan helped me and …'

‘No, you clod,' he interrupted.
‘Much as I love cake, I love you more.' There was silence while he sat there looking
as shocked as she felt. ‘I hadn't meant to blurt it out like that but I was pleased
to hear you say you'd missed me. When I arrived earlier, I thought perhaps you
hadn't.'

‘I'm sorry, James. I'm not very
good at displaying my emotions. I guess …' She was interrupted by Carla placing
fresh drinks in front of them.

‘For my two love birds. You sit there
staring into each other's eyes and let your chocolatini go cold,' she
admonished.

‘Sorry, Carla,' James said. ‘We
haven't seen each other since before Christmas and have so much to catch up on.'

‘Ah, well, I forgive you then and leave you to more
lovey-doveys, yes?' she laughed, clearing away their old mugs.

‘Perhaps you do show your emotions after
all,' James laughed. ‘Anyway, I've been thinking for some time now that
I'd like to move back to Salting Regis. We could spend more time together, get to know
each other better.'

Eliza's heart started thumping so loudly,
she picked up her spoon and stirred her drink vigorously in case he should hear it.

‘But what about your job?' she
asked.

‘I've finished my apprenticeship but
my heart's not in tanning hides. Truth to tell, I only left here at Father's
insistence. He thought I should spread my wings and get a qualification. Grandfa Sam thought it
best, too, but I have found out I prefer making shoes and boots for local people, rather than
saddles and stirrup butts for the farming community. Not that there's anything wrong with
them, of course; I just like the more personal touch and besides …' He shook his
head. ‘That's quite enough of me. You must be bored rigid. Tell me, have you made
any perfume recently? Grandfa said he offered you the use of his equipment.'

‘Yes, that was kind, but with him being ill
and Nan rushing round after him …'

‘You've been the one looking after
the shop,' he guessed.

She nodded. ‘Not that many people have
ventured out these past weeks. Still, come the better weather, when the flowers are in bloom
again, I shall certainly take up his offer. I also intend seeking out flowers to try and match
the fragrance in my black bottle. I told you
about that, didn't I?'

‘Numerous times,' he laughed.
‘You believe it's important to follow your passion, don't you?' he
asked, staring at her intently.

‘Yes, I do,' she whispered, wondering
what he was leading up to. He opened his mouth and she thought he was about to say something
else, but he smiled and said it was time they were getting back. Feeling relieved yet
disappointed, and not really knowing why, Eliza got to her feet.