24 All the Feels of Christmas Past

24

All the Feels of Christmas Past

It’s eight o’clock on Christmas Eve morning and it’s all about to kick off. Oliver has dropped his bags off at Oakleigh, and we stand side by side, as his eyes wander around the barn, taking it all in.

‘This is amazing, Sienna, truly amazing. It even smells like Christmas!’

‘Well,’ I laugh, ‘there’s a forest of cuttings in here, with just about everything colourful or fragrant that nature gives us for free.’

‘How long did it take?’

‘Two full days. Elizabeth, Grandma and I organise a large team of helpers. It’s a huge task, to turn sacks of fresh greenery into garlands and we all have to roll up our sleeves and get stuck in. Several of the farmers around here donate van-loads of holly, ivy, mistletoe and small branches from a variety of firs, even eucalyptus trees. The beams are too high up to reach, even with the portable scaffolding tower, so they’re hung from the walls in swags and it’s extremely time-consuming.’

‘I bet!’

‘It’s great fun, though, because so many people lend a hand. It’s a real community effort. As a thank you, they were treated to high tea here in the barn yesterday afternoon, after it was finished.’

I can honestly say that the last week and a bit have been a blur. Not least because the tension between Elizabeth and Stephen has put a damper on things. Stephen’s daughter and her husband are delighted to be staying at Hawthorn Mews, as the bedroom has an en suite. That’s a real plus for someone who is expecting a baby, avoiding the traipse along a draughty hallway late at night. However, Stephen is fuming, as he sees it as a snub. In his eyes, Grandma isn’t family, she’s merely a companion – an unpaid member of staff living there for free. Fortunately, Grandma has no idea that’s what the argument is about and Elizabeth intends to keep it that way.

And, after getting my hopes up that Ash and I might continue our conversation, despite the fact we parted with a hug that felt like a goodbye, his silence has shattered any illusion I have of a miracle happening. Having to let go of that hasn’t been easy, but in hindsight, it was all wishful thinking on my part and I’m totally gutted.

‘It’s good to see that the carousel arrived safely,’ Oliver says, brightly.

‘Yes. Stephen’s son-in-law is going to be in charge of it. Your friend, Ron, did some training on it with him yesterday. He and his wife are a nice couple, they’re staying at Hawthorn Mews here on the estate, with Mum and Greg.’

‘That worked out well, then. When are your parents arriving?’ The moment Oliver finishes speaking his eyes widen at his faux pas. ‘Sorry … I meant your mum and Greg.’

‘It’s fine, it’s just a slip of the tongue.’

Now he feels awkward. ‘Um … The cast will be here at nine o’clock sharp. We won’t be in your way, will we?’

‘No. Elizabeth, Grandma and I have given everyone involved, including family, a list of tasks. There will be a fair bit going on outside in the courtyard once breakfast at the Hall is over, but no one should require access to the barn until after noon. A couple of deliveries are due between twelve and one o’clock.’

‘Perfect.’

‘Everyone was saying yesterday how wonderful the stage looks. Honestly, this is going to be the highlight of the party, Oliver.’

He smiles, then leans in to give me a hug.

‘What was that for?’ I ask when he releases me.

‘You’re a good person, Sienna. Some people make a lot of noise to get themselves noticed; others are natural, shining stars, and they serve as an inspiration to the rest of us. And then there are the quiet ones, like you, who make things happen; life’s journey is a little smoother because of them and they truly are a blessing.’

Daniela is a shining star, I know that, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

‘And which one are you?’

‘Oh,’ he states, emphatically. ‘There’s a fourth category.’

‘Which is?’ I muse, as our eyes meet.

‘People waiting to find out who they are and why they’re here.’

I stare at him for a moment, frowning. My goodness … that’s exactly the problem I’m wrestling with right now. Is it a coincidence Oliver feels exactly the same way … or is it fate?

‘Sienna!’

I turn, to see Harry standing in the doorway. ‘I have the grill for roasting the chestnuts. Where do you want it?’

‘Thanks! I’ll be with you now, Harry.’ I turn to look at Oliver. ‘I guess we’ll catch up a bit later. Good luck this morning, I hope the rehearsals go well.’

Oliver holds up one hand, crossing his fingers. ‘Hopefully, there won’t be any last-minute hitches, or mental blocks as the nerves kick in.’

‘Think positively … or is it break a leg ?’ I retort and he grins at me before I turn and head outside.

Today the sky is gloriously blue and once the sun warms up a bit to melt the hoar frost, the weather couldn’t be more perfect. People can bundle up to keep warm, but rain or sleet would have been a disaster.

Gazing around, it’s truly wonderful to see the stark outline of the trees and shrubs covered in hair-like crystals as if it’s been snowing. The air is crisp and sweet: it’s good to be alive!

At two o’clock sharp, the afternoon festivities begin, and families start streaming into the courtyard. Everyone is wearing thick coats, gaily coloured scarves and gloves. But the sun delivered, and the sky is still an almost perfect shade of azure blue.

A queue is already forming for the carousel and the excitement reflected on the children’s faces, as they take in the colourful displays all around them, is heartening. It’s been challenging, but the reward is plain to see.

I pop my head into the newly painted hut, to check on Santa. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Ho! Ho! Ho! Ready and waiting, my fine young elf! I’m just warming my hands on the heater.’

Victor’s deeper than usual tone makes me laugh. ‘You look awesome, Santa. Here, let me straighten …’ I glance over my shoulder as I walk towards him, checking no little ones have wandered inside. ‘This wig is a little off centre,’ I whisper, as I sort him out.

He does look the part, sitting on a recycled chair we found in one of the horse stalls. Inside, the old hut has been turned into a spectacular grotto, with baubles hanging from the ceiling and several wreaths of fresh greenery to brighten the white-painted walls. The plush new seat matches the scarlet red of his outfit, and when he laughs, his padded stomach jiggles. ‘There you go, you’re all set.’

‘I’m here,’ Grandma’s voice calls out. ‘Sorry for the delay. The florists just delivered the flowers for the buffet tables, and I couldn’t find the key to the outhouse. My, don’t you two look a picture!’

I jiggle my head so that the bell on the end of my green elf’s hat jingles and both Santa and Grandma break out into a smile.

‘And what a grand Mother Christmas you make!’ Victor retorts. Grandma’s cheeks begin to colour as she flutters her eyelashes at him, doing a twirl.

I will admit that since she moved into Silverberry Hall, Grandma too has benefited from Georgina’s healthy-eating kick. More vegetables, fewer sugary snacks and crisps is now becoming a way of life and maybe we all need to get with the programme – including me.

‘The sacks are labelled with the various age groups,’ I confirm. ‘Right, we have some eager customers lining up outside, so I’ll leave you both to it.’

As I exit swiftly, I start humming to myself, Jingle bells, jingle bells … it’s time to get this party started.

I’m delighted when Mum suddenly appears at my side, having taken a break from helping out at the roasted chestnut and waffle stall.

‘Hey, how’re you doing?’

Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes keep darting around as she waves to old friends. ‘Business has been brisk, and I’ve finally got the hang of turning out a good waffle without any air bubbles in it,’ she declares with gusto. ‘Look at Elizabeth, she’s in her element!’

Most of the younger children around here know her well, as she often pops into several of the local schools to help with their reading sessions. She’s the most wonderful storyteller and has a knack of enthralling her audience as she draws them into a fictional world. They all want to say hello and she makes time for each and every one of them.

‘A lot of her smiles lately have been plastered on, but it’s good to see her face shining with happiness.’

‘It certainly is and, hopefully, this will help heal her heart a little. Anyway, you look toasty, although I thought you might be a little chilly in that outfit.’

‘No, I have two layers of thermal underwear on beneath my snazzy attire,’ I divulge with an elfish grin.

Grandma appears at the door of the grotto, shepherding two small boys back to their waiting parents. The little girl at the head of the queue alongside me eagerly holds out her ticket. ‘I’m next!’

I lean forward to take it from her. ‘You are, and Santa’s waiting for you.’

She must be about five years of age and she stares back at me for a moment, wrinkling her brow. ‘I want to check he knows where to find the key tonight, as we don’t have a chimney,’ she replies, with all seriousness.

‘Ah! That’s quite an important message to deliver, so you’d better hurry inside.’

As I straighten, Mum and I exchange soulful smiles. I can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas Eve afternoon, than being reminded of my own childhood. It was a time when I thought that almost anything was possible, because there was no limit to my imagination.

Grandma reappears to take her inside and Mum and I stand back a little.

‘Are you and Greg all settled into Hawthorn Mews?’

‘Yes, it’s absolutely lovely! We weren’t expecting it to be all trimmed up.’

‘Grandma and Elizabeth did it yesterday. They wanted to make you feel at home.’

‘Ah, well, we certainly do. Stephen’s daughter and her husband are a nice couple. They’re both eagerly counting down the weeks until the baby arrives and it’ll be Yvonne and Stephen’s first grandchild.’

We both instinctively glance across at Elizabeth’s other brother, Matthew, who, together with his youngest daughter, is dispensing hot chocolate, coffee, tea and free mince pies from one of the decorated carts. The courtyard has a nostalgic look to it, and this really does feel like a bygone Christmas experience.

‘Yes,’ I reflect. ‘Matthew’s grandchildren are both school age now, so Yvonne and Stephen have been waiting rather impatiently.’ I pull a long face, as nature’s course is in natural timing and that can be frustrating.

Stephen’s the sort of man who expects his family to expand and continue on, and he’s made that very well known. Elizabeth has said on several occasions that putting undue pressure on a young couple by constantly bringing up the subject of having children doesn’t help.

Mum lowers her voice as she begins speaking. ‘People always covet what they don’t have and maybe once the baby is here, Stephen’s relationship with his younger brother will be a little easier.’

What she avoided saying, is that jealousy is a destructive thing because it creates barriers where there shouldn’t be any. But on a day like this, as I stand next to my mum, with the carollers singing in the background, the hubbub of a multitude of voices laughing, children screeching as they enjoy the ride … none of that matters, it’s all about creating some wonderful memories to look back on.

When I walk into the kitchen at Oakleigh, having spent a leisurely hour soaking in a bubble bath and then getting ready, Oliver stops what he’s doing, and we simply stare at each other.

‘My goodness, a beard and moustache really suit you!’ I gape at him, in his costume. He’s wearing a tailored black suit: the jacket is a longer cut, as they used to wear long ago. And he’s wearing what I think they refer to as a neckerchief; it’s burgundy with tiny black dots on it. ‘You really look the part of a gentleman from the olden days.’

‘That’s the general idea. And you – wow! I thought you were keeping your elf costume on, it was rather becoming,’ he jokes.

‘I think a cocktail dress is more appropriate for this evening, don’t you?’

‘Well, you look stunning and that colour really suits you. I like what you’ve done to your hair.’

I did go the extra mile this year. It took me ages to find this dress and the rich burgundy colour of the sleek, fitting contour matches Oliver’s necktie. With my mass of curly dark hair in a French twist, fastened with two substantial diamanté hair clips to keep it in check, it adds that touch of glamour.

‘It was worth the trouble, as long as it stays put. Right, we’d best get off. Are you nervous?’

He holds out one of his hands, palm down, and I can see a slight tremble. ‘Daniela always said that if we aren’t nervous, we won’t give our best performance. I hope she’s right!’

The courtyard looks amazing. Everything is bathed in the light from thousands of tiny white bulbs and together with the colourful carousel, the carts dispensing hot toddies, and the carollers in their Victorian costumes singing their hearts out, it’s like a scene from an old-fashioned Christmas card.

The smell of the hog roast in the outside facility makes my stomach rumble and I realise I’ve hardly eaten a thing today. At least the buffet will open as soon as the play finishes. People can’t dance the night away on an empty stomach.

‘Everyone is going to think you and I are two of the singers who’ve wandered off,’ Oliver chuckles.

‘Hey, I’m loving this black velvet cape and hood.’ I do feel the part, but he might have a point. However, when Oliver escorts me into the barn it’s already buzzing, and the atmosphere is simply enchanting. The rich colours of the ladies’ gowns and the suave-looking gentlemen are a sight to behold.

‘We don’t look out of place, at all.’ Oliver’s mouth gapes. He releases my arm so I can slip off my cape. ‘And that’s saying something, considering I’m wearing a false beard. These people certainly enjoy dressing up!’

‘It’s all a part of the fun,’ I half-whisper, although no one can hear us. We continue to cast our eyes around the vast space, taking it all in.

‘There’s Elizabeth.’ I nudge his arm. ‘Oh, and Grandma! Don’t they both look amazing?’ And svelte.

Elizabeth is wearing an elegant, long-sleeved full-length black dress with a silver thread running through it; it sparkles a little as she moves. Grandma is wearing a calf-length, purple-coloured cocktail dress with a slightly fluted hem. They’re both busy circulating, greeting new arrivals and directing them to the drinks tables.

‘Well, this is quite a spectacle to behold.’

I do a half-turn. ‘And look at that stage. Even without any lighting on it, it’s a wonderful, old-fashioned backdrop.’

Oliver and I make our way closer to it. As we pass small groups of people standing around chatting, we hear several references to Freddie, and I force myself not to get maudlin.

It’s time to focus on the dazzling evening we have ahead of us.

‘You’re right,’ he replies, softly, ‘it certainly does the job.’

The street scene awaits the actors to bring it to life. From the grand-looking lamp post to the over-flowing flower cart, the vintage sledges and the small heaps of snow that lie all around, it’s enthralling. But in pride of place is the globe. It looks quite stark; a huge white ball, with the white-painted tree in the centre, it is a real statement piece.

‘And the panels look good, too,’ I muse, unable to hide a self-satisfied little smirk.

‘You did a great job. The evening sky with the softest hint of clouds will be brought to life when the twinkly stars are lit. Are you happy?’

‘Ecstatic. It’s everything I hoped it would be and I know that Elizabeth will feel this is a fitting tribute to Freddie’s love of Christmas. It feels weird though.’

‘In what way?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t really put it into words.’ It feels like an ending and my eyes begin to smart because I know it’s not. This tradition will continue as long as Elizabeth resides at Silverberry Hall, even if it won’t be quite on this scale ever again.

Oliver clears his throat. ‘The fact that people miss Freddie so much is the mark of a very special man indeed.’

I glance at him, and my lower lip begins to wobble. ‘He was and the world is a sadder place without Freddie in it, but he’ll never be forgotten.’