Chapter 35

35

‘Oh, Dad, that doesn’t feel right at all.’ Tommy has taken Daisy out for their customary Christmas Eve movie night at the cinema close to her home. Now, at 9.45p.m., they are walking together back to her mother’s place.

‘It’ll be fine, darling,’ he assures her.

She looks at him as they pass a cocktail bar with achingly beautiful choral music drifting out. It’s more Bach’s ‘Christmas Oratorio’ than Slade’s ‘Merry Xmas Everybody’ around here. ‘Grandma and Grandpa and you, all together in Lena’s flat?’ Daisy reiterates, as if still trying to make sense of it. ‘Without Lena?’

‘Well, yes,’ Tommy says lightly. ‘It can’t be helped. She’s totally snowed in up there.’

‘But… won’t it be weird?’

‘I don’t see why. It’s a perfectly nice place, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t mean that,’ she says quickly. ‘Of course it is. It’s lovely.’ Daisy seems to be mulling something over as they pass a bookshop, its window filled with twinkling silver lights. ‘I just think they’ll find it really odd, that’s all.’

‘They probably will,’ he agrees. ‘But you know, darling, we’ll just have to make the best of it.’

‘Hmm, yeah. I guess so.’ He senses her quizzical look. ‘So, are you all ready?’

‘Yep, the big shop arrived this morning and the turkey came from a little butcher in Hackney. And believe it or not, I’ve made a Christmas pudding?—’

‘Wow, Dad!’ she exclaims. ‘That’s impressive…’

‘It’s not rocket science.’ He grins. ‘But I did drench it in booze to anaesthetise Grandma?—’

‘You are bad.’ She laughs. ‘But seriously, it’s a shame you’re going to be doing the whole thing yourself.’

‘Well, you know I love cooking,’ he says, and it’s true. He always has, especially after a full day at the office. He doesn’t mind working in recruitment, and he supposes he’s pretty good at it as he’s organised and affable. But he also enjoys the rhythm of an ordinary domestic life. Ordinary in that it’s how most people live, when they don’t have cleaners and nannies and gardeners and a sprawling home with a library and a snooker room, as is the case at High Elms.

Tommy had never wanted to be like his dad. He certainly hadn’t wanted to follow his lead when it came to fathering: hiding away in a study, or shielded by the Telegraph when forced to occupy a family space. When he and Catherine were together they had shared the workload equally. There was no question of Tommy shirking any of his parental obligations.

He glances at Daisy in profile. Her shiny blonde hair is secured in a tidy ponytail, and her neat little nose and curve of her chin are so similar to her mother’s, it could be the young Catherine’s face. Daisy even dresses like her mum, favouring classic cashmere in shades like Elephant’s Breath (Tommy grew familiar with the Farrow and Ball paint chart during his marriage). He treasures their time together and, as they approach the little late-night cafe that’s a favourite of Daisy’s, he has a sudden urge to prolong the evening a little.

Over these past few years, Tommy has grown used to the fact that Daisy always spends Christmas Day with her mum. It’s the way they want it, and Catherine, it has to be said, is Queen of Christmas with all her family amassed. But this year, with Lena being stuck in Scotland, he feels differently. He’d love to be with Daisy tomorrow, and the thought of being separated from her triggers something of an ache in his gut.

Tommy stops as they reach the cafe. ‘Will Mum mind if we stop off for a hot chocolate?’

Daisy beams at him. ‘Of course she won’t!’ So they step into the cosy warmth of the cafe with its berry red interior and mistletoe decorations on the tables. As Daisy chatters away about the art prize she won at school, Tommy tells himself that he’s lucky to have this as their annual ritual: he and his beloved daughter together on Christmas Eve. But still, Tommy can’t help thinking that tomorrow she won’t be with him. She’ll be at home, where there’ll be three Christmas trees: the vast ten-footer in the living room, a second one in the hallway and a mini one in the sleek kitchen.

There won’t be any cheap decorations of the type that Lena likes. Catherine has an aversion to tinsel and multicoloured lights. Instead, everything is beautifully coordinated in silver and gold, and sprigs of natural holly and fir adorn the mantlepieces. And around the festive table there’ll be Daisy and her mother, and Catherine’s parents and brother and sister-in-law and the two nieces. There’ll be a turkey so large it would barely fit through Lena’s doorway, let alone into her oven. And not just a Christmas pudding, or a pavlova – as Daisy has always favoured – but a pudding buffet. For Catherine, Christmas prep kicks off in early October and by 25 December, everything is perfect.

As for Tommy, it’ll be him and his mum and dad, cramped around Lena’s little table with the wobbly extendable leaf. As he and Daisy sip their delicious hot chocolates and eat their mince pies, he tries to reassure himself that this will be perfectly okay. It’s only a day after all. But still, he makes a point of savouring the last fragment of buttery pastry, just as he wants to savour every last moment of Christmas Eve with his daughter. And now the cafe is about to close, but they still sit there.

Daisy looks across the table at her father. She seems hesitant as she twirls the teaspoon in the empty hot chocolate mug. Tommy can sense that she’s building up to something, but he can’t figure out what that might be. ‘Dad, I just want to say,’ she starts. ‘About tomorrow… about Christmas Day…’

‘It’ll be fine, darling,’ he says firmly, but she shakes her head.

‘I’m sure it will be. I know you’ll be brilliant at doing it all.’ The young waitress comes over and he pays the bill. Tommy is grateful for the small distraction because he doesn’t really want to think about Christmas Day in Hackney and how bizarre it’s going to feel without Lena being there. When he said it would be fine, he was lying.

They leave the cafe and make their way along the quiet street. There are few people out now, and less traffic than usual around here. That’s because people like to be home and cosy on Christmas Eve, Tommy reminds himself, with the people they love.

Now he senses Daisy about to say something else. And then she does, just as they turn off the main street. ‘Dad,’ she starts, ‘what if we ask Mum if you and Grandma and Grandpa can come over to ours tomorrow?’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ he blusters.

She looks at him, eyes round and bright. ‘Wouldn’t that be lovely, though? All of us together?’

He exhales forcefully as they turn into the even quieter residential road, where Catherine and Daisy live. Catherine will invite him in, he’s sure of it. Just for a glass of wine before he takes an Uber home to Hackney. ‘No, Daisy,’ he says. ‘It’s a lovely thought but it’s far too short notice for Mum. We couldn’t just descend on her like that. And anyway, I have everything in at the flat, all ready?—’

‘But you could bring it all over to us tomorrow.’ She smiles hopefully. ‘We could blend our Christmases?—’

‘ Blend our Christmases?’ He can’t help smiling at that.

‘Yes! Wouldn’t Grandma and Grandpa love that? Being with me?’ She grins cheekily.

‘Yes but?—’

‘I’m not saying I’m their favourite grandchild,’ she teases. But she is. Of course she is, because she’s charming and clever and she knows exactly how to handle them. And Catherine is their favourite daughter-in-law, and Tommy knows that they would have a far better time at her beautiful apartment tomorrow than in a little flat in Hackney.

Why had they insisted on coming to Lena’s anyway? To check her out, he suspects. To see her under duress, struggling to make Christmas Day run as smoothly as possible and then watching her fail. Lena has already mentioned to his parents that cooking isn’t exactly her forte. Yet Tommy’s mother has already asked, ‘D’you prefer the brining method for your turkey, Lena? Are you Team Delia or Nigella?’

‘Oh, Tommy takes charge of all that,’ Lena replied cheerfully.

‘Lena is Team Lena , Mum,’ Tommy added tightly. Now he can picture his parents heading home after Christmas, with mission accomplished – agreeing that he really is marrying beneath himself.

Realising all of this causes fury to fizzle like a firework in Tommy’s gut. Not just towards his parents but towards himself too, for allowing his parents to run roughshod over their lives. What must Lena think of him? Well, their plans have been upended now, Tommy tells himself as they arrive at Catherine’s apartment. Their little game – his mother’s game really – has been scuppered by extreme weather in Scotland. Because without Lena there, is there any point in them coming to Hackney after all?

Daisy goes to ring the doorbell, but Tommy stops her with his hand. ‘If Mum’s okay about this,’ he starts, ‘and I do think it’s an awfully big ask?—’

‘It’s not. Of course it’s not!’ Her face brightens.

‘Will there be room, though, for three extras?’

‘“Extras”?’ Daisy laughs, showing her perfectly even white teeth. ‘Are you crazy? We’re all family, Dad.’

He beams then, filled with happiness. ‘Then I think that spending Christmas all together is an excellent idea.’