Lizzie's List (17 page)

The following days are so busy that they fly by like the red arrows – with lots of noise and energy. James and I spend most of our time moving my belongings to the cottage and I’ve already commissioned Kate to make me some bunting for around the welsh dresser in a beautiful, duck-egg blue fabric that I’ve found. The cottage is already looking more homely after just a couple of days. James keeps protesting at various items, but I know he is teasing me, although he has now put a ban on any more hearts. Being fair to James, I have hung hearts from near enough every possible handle or hook in the place – even I’m beginning to think it’s all a bit too much.

We also spend a lot of time organising the New Year’s Eve party, which is growing by the day with more and more people coming. I’ve started organising the food, whilst James has been putting fairy lights all over the bushes and trees outside the main door, where we are going to have fireworks at midnight.

I am beginning to think that the party is a ingenious idea, as there are enough people coming to keep the party lively, but not too many that it will lose its intimacy. I want mum to be surrounded by people who’ll make her laugh. Although it will be hard for her – another first to get through–I think this is the perfect place for her to be. She is bringing some of her golden girls with her – a few wines and they’ll have everybody dancing. I’ve witnessed them under the influence of wine before, and it’s not to be missed!

Awaking early with the anticipation of the New Year’s Eve party happening tonight, I head downstairs quietly, not wanting to disturb James, aiming to surprise him with breakfast in bed. Although I’ve only officially lived here a few days, I already feel like it’s my home, but I still feel excited at the prospect of waking with him each morning. I’d be lying if I said we hadn’t had a few minor teething problems, like the fact that he likes to squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom of the tube, whereas I just hit any bulging point and go for it, much to his annoyance. He also has a habit of leaving his boots right outside the front door. Now I know many of you will be thinking that it’s brilliant that he bothers to takes them off, but not when he leaves them right in the doorway and I have fallen over them several times already. The bath bombs and heavily scented soaps are a problem for him. He hasn’t actually said anything, but I heard him muttering things about the bathroom smelling worse than a beauty parlour, whilst he was brushing his teeth yesterday. It really winds me up when he leaves his used mugs everywhere, especially when Jack likes to drink the remnants of what’s left in the bottom.

Finally, I never put lids back on jars properly–I’m not sure why – perhaps it’s because I get distracted when cooking. James has now had to change his tops on two occasions, due to spilling beetroot and olive juice down them when he has taken jars out of the fridge. Having said all this, we have fitted into our own routine already and keep smiling at each other in that blissful loved up way that is so sickening to watch if you’re on the outside, in a relationship past the honeymoon stage, or are single looking for love.

“James, wake up; I’ve got sausage sandwiches (or butties to you) here dripping with butter and brown sauce and some strong tea,” I say brightly, wanting him to wake so we can start the action of the day’s party preparations.

“Oh fantastic–I knew there was a good reason for me asking you to move in,” he cheekily says, whilst I threaten to eat his sandwich as well as mine holding it hoveringly close to my mouth. “Okay, it’s not just this – you do cook me fabulous meals and cakes.” I now take a bite from his sandwich. “Okay I love you and want you here all the time.” With the correct response from him, I offer him my sandwich, whilst I have eaten half of his in one bite. As you can tell, James is a man who enjoys his food. We greedily wolf down our sandwiches and cuddle up together whilst we sip our hot tea.

“What time shall we go to the Centre? If everybody is coming over from 3pm, I thought we should go after lunch.” I am about to continue discussing what jobs we need to finish, but James has other ideas.

“Let’s talk about that later Lizzie – we have far more important things to consider right now,” he says as he starts to kiss my neck. You know what? I think he might be right...

Much, much later, we arrive at the Centre laden with stuffed bags of various party paraphernalia, from champagne to balloons. We’ve also got clothes to change in to later as we’re going to stay over at the Centre as well, even though the cottage is not far away.

By 3.30pm, people start to arrive, ready for action. Everybody has voted to do the orienteering course in the dark first. To make it fair on people who haven’t done it before, Pete and James have changed the route. After this, everybody will need hot showers before changing for the evening–we’ve all decided to dress up.

Guests are bringing some sort of entertainment or party game, so it should keep things fun and busy. One of my aims is to keep Mum’s mind off Dad. We have, however, got lanterns to launch in his memory after the midnight celebrations. Dad would not have wanted us to sit and stop our lives, but I feel it’s important to keep his memory with us and not be afraid of including him in celebrations, for fear of too much emotion.

On arriving, people head towards their rooms to unpack and make their beds – there is no way I am going to make 22 beds, but I do however, make a big pots of tea and coffee to warm people up before we organise teams for the orienteering. James and Pete are staying behind as they know the new route and somebody needs to time the teams. “Right we need five, teams of four!” shouts James.

“I’ll go with Lizzie!” shouts Tabitha now knowing about my map talents and is eager to be with me. I chuckle at Mark’s disgruntled face.

“No I’m going with Lizzie!” shouts Mum, whilst I quite enjoyed being in such demand.

Those who don’t know about my map reading talent, start to look a little baffled as to why I’m so popular. “Okay, since some of you know about Lizzie and her map reading abilities, I think I’ll pick teams for you,” shouts James. “Dad you’re going to give Lizzie a run for her money where maps are concerned, so you can be a team leader. Paul and Ian (who both work at the centre with James and have come for the party as well, but not to work) you can lead teams. They don’t know the new route, before anybody protests at that. Mark–I think a bit of sibling rivalry won’t hurt you, so you can lead the other team. Are you going to let her beat you again?” James then divides people into our teams. Tabitha does end up with me as does James’ mum, Elizabeth and also Ruth. Mum is in Mark’s teams and I realise that James has given the teams some thought, making sure that Mum is with our family and as Elizabeth and I are together we can get to know each other more.

“Lizzie–James’ dad is fantastic at this sort of thing – Mark told me on the way up. Is that right?” Tabitha asks Elizabeth.

“Well yes, we don’t stand a chance, if honest. John’s spent his life trawling along the Lancashire and Lakeland hills finding his way down with just a compass – how do you think James ended up doing this for a living?” Elizabeth gestures towards the centre.

For the moment I keep quiet and mentally ask dad if he’s ready, because we
ARE
going to win this. When Pete comes around with the map, I know I have an advantage having been in the section of the field near the bridge, but so do the centre team leaders, Paul and Ian. I study it quickly to look for the points and immediately see what they’ve done to make it difficult. The final point is under the bridge and needs to be collected first rather than last or we’ll end up crossing the field twice. I also note that point 15 is on the opposite side of the stream, but this is misleading on the map, so we need to stamp it at the same time, so we can cross the bridge.

We are the last team to leave the centre. Tabitha trusts me this time when I take us in a totally different direction to the one every other team goes in. “That’s my girl!” I hear James mutter to Pete as we head off. Elizabeth must have heard this as well as she looks as though she is about to protest at our direction, but then follows me obligingly.

“Right girls, we need to work fast and this part of the field is pretty flat so run as fast as you can and follow my torch. Tabitha and Ruth–you head to the bridge to find point 20, whilst Elizabeth and I get point 15 just down here.” I surprise myself with my team-leading efficiency.

Once finished, we race back towards the centre like rabbits hopping from left to right to avoid tuffs of grass or rocks; I know we’ve made a good time. Two teams are already there, but as we set off last, I’m not surprised or daunted by their arrival before us. James checks our time on his stop watch and whispers to Pete, not giving anything away in his facial expression. James’ dad is waiting and looking at Elizabeth quite smugly as if he is sure he’s beaten us. Mark’s team has also arrived, looking quite proud.

“Where are the professionals – haven’t they arrived back?” I ask quite surprised, referring to the expert team leaders who work at the Centre.

“No not yet, but then they’re both so laid back, they’re horizontal. They’ve probably stopped for a beer part-way around the course,” laughs Pete.

Once all teams are back, we eagerly await the results. “Right, well I have to say it’s very close between three teams – a matter of a mere 15 seconds. But it’s pretty cold out here and you’re all extremely muddy, so go and get showered and I’ll announce the winning team later,” says James to a plethora of disappointed groans. I shuffle up to him and lovingly place my arms around his neck.

“Did we win?” I ask, kissing his neck softly.

“Lizzie Parker – get your hands off him. I’m not having you cheating and getting your boyfriend to fix the result!” shouts Mark with mock anger.

“He’s right, Lizzie. I’m not telling you who won – you’ll find out with everybody else.” replies James firmly.

Back in our room, I dress in a wine-coloured, long, lace dress and pin my hair up loosely so it still hangs around my neck in large curls. James dresses in a smart, black shirt looking very sexy. I don’t often see him dressed up and can’t help squeezing his bum. “If you’re trying to use sexual favours as a way to find out who won, it won’t work – well on this occasion, anyway. However, I don’t want to put you off trying in future Lizzie,” he mumbles into my neck as he takes me into his arms and slowly moves his hands to squeeze my own bum. “Come on, we’d best get down stairs or I’ll want to take that dress right back off you. You look beautiful by the way,” he says as he takes my hand leading me toward the door.

“Thanks – you don’t look too bad yourself,” I answer.

“Too bad? Too bad? Do you realise how many of your soaps I had to use to look as good as this?”

“Don’t ever, ever touch my soaps!” I reply with the force of an angry lioness protecting her cubs. James just chuckles as he heads out of the room.

“As if I’d touch them – they stink out the bathroom – in fact they stink out the whole cottage. I’m thinking perhaps that you should move back to your flat, but I could probably smell them from there,” he teases.

Down in the large lounge area, everybody gathers, all heartily competitive and wanting to know the results. “Okay, Pete do you have the results?” asks James.

“Yes I do. The third team was .......................... Mark’s,” announces Pete to protests and groans from Mark’s team. “Just ten seconds ahead was ..... John’s team, which means the winning team and a whole five seconds in the lead, is Lizzie’s team!” Big cheers are heard from our team, along with Elizabeth’s chirpy voice gloating loudly to her husband, saying that he’s losing his touch and that it must be his age. I smile and think to myself – thanks Dad.

Mum must have been thinking something similar, as pointing at me accusingly, she says, “That’s your father in her Mark –she’s always had a freakishly good sense of direction, just as he did.” My heart flips with pride at the similarity and the moment is made more precious as Mum is smiling, the same as me.

“I know, I just can’t beat her at this. But one day, Lizzie, just you and I will do the course against each other and I will beat you. I won’t let this rest until I’ve won,” threatens Mark.

“In your dreams, Mark Parker. That will just never happen.” I respond, whilst popping the cork off the champagne bottle that James has given us as our prize.

The lively banter continues into the evening, during the many party games and the guzzling of various alcoholic beverages. The orienteering really did break the ice for people who haven’t met each other before. I was conscious that James’ parents and my own haven’t met before, even though Mark and James have met each other’s parents during university holidays and visits.

Later on, I take a moment to watch the scene and feel contentment. Sometimes I forget Dad has died and then the memory returns like a dull pain, but he would enjoy this scene too. If he were here now, I am sure he’d be sitting in a corner with a pint of real ale watching everybody, but then I feel as though he’s doing that anyway – watching us and being with us–if not necessarily in person.

On the stroke of midnight, fireworks explode impressively in the clear night’s sky, with their sparkle of colours, throwing carnival colours of light on the faces of those watching. The magical element of the lights and sound creating gasps of oooooooooooooooos and arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrghs from their grateful audience.

Following this, the moment becomes more sombre as we send lanterns into the air and all toast my dad with our drinks. The biting cold forces most people swiftly back inside, leaving just Mum and me watching the now tiny specks of light that can still be seen from the lanterns high up in the sky looking like stars themselves. As the lanterns slowly glide deeper into the night’s sky, I feel like I am saying farewell to Dad, letting go of my grief. “Thanks for this Lizzie – for organising the party, Christmas Day and also these lanterns. It means a lot to me...” Mum says quietly as her thoughts drift off following the lanterns.

“Well, I just keep thinking that Dad would want us to carry on and try to enjoy our lives, despite his not being here.”