Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

‘Come on, lovely…Get that down you!' I've met many characters on my journey so far but none as vibrant as Uncle Rich, who has spent most of the day magically appearing in front of me with glasses of alcohol – everything from Buck's Fizz (10am) to Prosecco (12pm) and now it's a glass of Bailey's (2 pm) to ‘wash down the pudding.' He stands there now in the middle of the living room resplendent in a green Christmas football jumper that makes a very lewd reference to someone jingling his balls. From somewhere, The Pogues' ‘Fairytale of New York' suddenly filters into the room and Uncle Rich starts swaying around the coffee table, a glass of Bourbon in his hand, mouthing all the words. ‘Come here, Leo,' he says putting his hand around his nephew's shoulders. ‘Sing with your uncle…'

Leo obliges and I am very surprised to hear him recite all the words. But when the pipes and violins kick in, Uncle Rich takes it up a notch, splitting from his nephew and engaging in a dance that's half-jig half-Irish, as his wife, Lisa, sits there taking videos on her phone but also rolling her eyes. ‘No high kicks, love. Remember what happened at the pub last time.'

‘What happened at the pub?' Leo asks .

‘Split the trousers. Were a bit indecent so the landlord had to gaffer tape him up at the crotch,' Lisa tells us.

Leo chuckles, snorting at the same time. It's been nothing short of a feast and I am filled to the brim with turkey, stuffing, pigs in blankets and all our excellently peeled vegetables. And it was how I imagined Christmas would look as a massive family. It was three tables stuck together in a room next to the kitchen, one of which was Uncle Rich's card table and it was a glorious mismatch of crockery and plates, everyone passing bowls around, pulling crackers and trading jokes, a purple paper hat sitting regally on Nana's curls and no one being able to hear the music over all the noise and banter.

‘He's got more stuffing balls than me…'

‘What did you marinade this ham in?'

‘I'm more partial to Nigella these days…'

‘Five potatoes. You're only allowed five potatoes…'

‘Why did the camel leave the Christmas party early? He got the hump…'

And now comes the part of the day when we're all slightly paralytic with fullness, staring at each other, starting to wish we had worn something with an elasticated waist. I look down at my stomach through my green wrap dress and tights, realising my bloat makes me look slightly pregnant. I put a hand to my stomach as Claire comes to sit down next to me.

‘Don't. I swear I wasn't this big when I carried my youngest and he were a nine-pound baby,' she moans, rubbing her belly and trying to keep down a burp. ‘So how was your first Golding family Christmas? Have we scared you off?' she asks, looking over at Uncle Rich, now listening to Chris Rea and pretending he's actually driving home for Christmas.

‘On the contrary. It's been lovely. It's how I always imagined Christmas should be…'

‘Organised chaos?' she jokes. ‘You wait till you get to the evening segment when we play charades. Last year, Dad got so angry he threw a box of After Mints into the fire. It's why it still smells minty in here.'

I laugh and she studies my face again, as if she's still trying to work me out. ‘Thumb's feeling much better too,' I tell her, flexing it.

‘I'm glad,' she says, looking over at Leo as he appears deep in conversation with his aunt. She turns into me, whispering slightly. ‘Now, don't tell him I said this, but how's Leo getting on in London? Really? He's not the social media sort so we can never quite keep track of him but Gabby and I often worry he's a bit of a fish out of water down there. He's not city folk is our Leo.'

I am warmed by the depth of her concern for him. ‘Well, he's brilliant at work. He's settled in well to the office and is a strong member of our team.' I gulp as I give her this appraisal, hoping my guilt doesn't show on my face. ‘And he's got good housemates too. London is a strange beast but he's got people down there looking out for him.'

She points at me.

‘Yes, I am one of these people.'

‘Then he's alright. Just keep looking out for our lad, please.'

‘I promise,' I mutter, emotion swelling in my chest.

‘Right, so another tradition round these parts is we eat the food then we walk. You got boots?' she asks me.

‘I do. I was instructed to bring some walking boots.'

‘Good lass,' she says. I won't tell her that they're brand new and to not shame myself I've only walked them down to the local park and jumped in a few muddy puddles to make them appear worn. ‘Right, team – the walk departs in ten! Coats and boots!'

Leo comes over and pulls me to my feet. ‘This is usually the portion of the day where I sleep and watch a film,' I tell him.

‘No such luck. We have to air Uncle Rich as well so he can sober up a bit. '

We turn to see him still jigging in the middle of the room with the wild enthusiasm that only Christmas and alcohol can bring.

‘You brought layers, right?'

‘I brought a hoodie?' I tell him.

‘Just the one?' he asks.

‘I need more than one hoodie?'

It turns out that I didn't need more than one hoodie. I needed every item in my suitcase and everything I own at home to combat this level of cold. It's nastily bitter, the sort of cold where it feels someone has got a hairdryer on the Arctic setting and it's on full power in your face. There was me looking at the kids with their mismatched super-thick socks, balaclavas and fleece mittens and I scoffed at how cold it really could be. Now I'm standing here feeling the urine in my bladder solidify into ice. This walk is also not just a walk. Where I come from, I walk in parks that are mostly flat and have cafes dotted about the place, but here they climb over stiles, scramble across rocks and skip over streams. If I've made a decent impression before this then all that has been unravelled by the fact I scream every time I have to jump over a mere trickle of water. I am a town mouse. The reason I went into computers is because I was terrible at sport and any activity that involved co-ordination.

That said, what can't be scoffed at are the views of this place. I was fast asleep when we arrived on Christmas Eve but now the landscape keeps revealing more expanses of fields, mountains in the distance and clear blue skies. The snow and ice still sit on the ground and it feels like every time we turn a corner, there are more vistas to take my breath away, more photos to snap, more reasons to inhale deeply and feel intensely cold but be grateful I chose to spend Christmas here rather than eating cheese alone in my garden flat.

‘How's it going?' Leo asks me, smirking because I walk with both hands out for balance. This is uneven terrain. I got bitten by a fox last time I was in nature; I don't need the indignity of the air ambulance having to winch me out of here because I snapped an ankle in two.

‘Don't be mean,' I reply tersely.

‘Your lips have gone blue,' he tells me, coming over to hug me. I am not sure that will work but I don't mind the contact at all. ‘We'll sit you by the fire when we get back. Next to Nana.'

Nana is obviously not on this walk but I suspect she would have moved quicker than me. About sixty yards ahead, I see the children of the walk fighting with big branches and collecting stones. It all feels incredibly wholesome. I grew up in West London. The fights I saw were outside the local pub. I used to collect used travelcards.

‘Am I holding up the party?' I ask Leo.

‘Not at all,' he says, putting an arm through mine. We walk through a clearing in the trees and again, a trail of mountains and valleys comes into view. I gasp and Leo looks over smiling to see me appreciate it. ‘Did you really grow up here?'

‘Yeah. Down there's a quarry and we used to go camping there,' he points to a base of the hill.

‘Like Bear Grylls?' I ask, imagining him spearing fish with sharpened sticks.

‘Like six teenagers with a six pack of Strongbow, smoking spliffs around a fire,' he joshes. We continue walking. This does seem to be Leo's natural habitat. His grey walking boots are worn and weathered, he wears a dark green outdoor jacket with many layers of fleece and his signature beanie, his blond hair peeking out by his ears.

‘How are you not cold?' I ask him.

‘I'm a man of the North,' he says in Sean Bean tones. ‘But also long johns and a quality thermal vest.'

He is a man of nature but a sensible one at that. ‘Sexy. '

‘They're black, they make me look like a ninja.'

I try not to laugh. ‘When you wear them, do you have a moment and practise your high kicks?'

‘I do the crane,' he admits with no shame. I bend over in giggles but I like how this feels, our version of intimacy. ‘We'll sort you out with a proper coat and gear for next time.'

‘Next time?' I ask.

‘Well, I like to come up here every couple of months or so. You're always welcome to tag along.'

If my eyes would allow it, I'd tear up at how he says that so casually. To anybody else, meeting someone's family would be a massive deal but to him it just fits. Come and be part of somewhere that I call home. Tag along. Even though you don't quite fit and you're moving at sloth speed, do come again. I grip on to his hand. For the contact and possibly to help me balance.

The peace is suddenly interrupted as Leo's phone starts to ring. He finds it in his pocket and smiles to see the number.

‘Jasper, mate. 'Ey up?'

I peer my face over the screen to see a picture come into view. It's Jasper with sunglasses on his head and wearing a fetching pink ski jacket. If the scenes behind us were beautiful then he has ice-capped peaks behind him for as far as the eye can see. He looks like he's in the clouds and quite enviably, he also seems to have some sort of steaming hot beverage in his hand.

‘I just thought I would ring to wish you a very Merry Christmas,' he squints to see me. ‘What's happened to Maggie? Why does she look like you've left her out overnight?'

My bottom jaw trembles so much that I can hardly talk. ‘She's not used to the climes in these parts.'

‘Well, please make sure you defrost her thoroughly,' Jasper says, still wincing to see my pale face.

‘Hold on,' Jasper adds. ‘Another player's looking to join, shall we? '

I see Frank's number on the screen and watch as the screen divides into three as he sits there on what looks like a gaming chair with a headset. Seriously, Frank?

‘Merry Christmas!' he squeals into the phone and I laugh to see him in a red Christmas jumper with a very cool reindeer on the front.

‘Where are you, Frank?' I ask him.

‘At home. I'm having a break from the festivities because my sisters are making TikToks downstairs with their new handbags.'

‘Have you had a good day?' I ask.

‘Boys,' he says, putting his controller down for a second. ‘I got the new Ronin game for Christmas,' he announces, hands to the air.

‘No way,' Jasper and Leo both say, harmonising in their inhalations of shock.

I stand there less impressed as they discuss some virtual meet-up when they're both back from their holidays. ‘Jasper, how's the skiing? Your mum?' I ask him.

‘Fantastic. She says hello and sends her best. And we had raclette for Christmas dinner so I'm all good. How are the Lakes?'

‘Good.'

‘Also, anything else that you two need to tell me?' he asks. I smirk to know that he knows. ‘I literally initiated all of that. I texted Leo with your train details and told him to meet you there and get his girl, and I've had nothing. No texts, no confirmations, no cute couples' selfies. I am frankly insulted,' he says, watching Leo and me put our arms around each other. ‘But also incredibly happy. About bloody time,' he bemoans.

‘What about you, Frank? Did you give Norah your gift?' I ask.

‘I did and she loved it. My mother less so. She said it was infantile,' he tells me .

‘Frank, who got you that video game for Christmas?'

‘My mu…point taken. But Norah and I sat together at lunch. We're going to the theatre next week.'

‘Classy,' Jasper adds.

I can't quite feel my face. I might not even have a nose now and no one will ever be able to tell. But I desperately want to ask Jasper about Miles too. Is he well? What did you get each other for Christmas? Have you both got your own back on Cressida? I hope so.

‘Leo, can you please give Maggie a cup of tea or something? She looks cross-eyed with the cold,' Jasper remarks, expertly changing the subject.

However, that comment sends me into a strange panic. ‘Eyeballs are filled with liquid. Can they freeze? That can't be good. Could they expand? That's very near my brain.'

Leo looks over at me like I'm delirious and slightly mad. I hear frostbite can do that too, but I hear the echoes of laughter from Frank and Jasper and I sneer at the lot of them. The problem is we do this so well, the banter, the teasing, and none of us take it to heart because we know the friendships we have are more than that, and my heartstrings are royally tugged again to think that I'm about to change this dynamic forever. I look at all our faces on that screen.

‘Well, I know I may die and my eyeballs might explode but can I just say something?' They all stop laughing to listen. ‘I wasn't supposed to have a Christmas this year. I thought I was going to be alone but you all jumped in and gave a girl somewhere to be and it's been a week to remember, it really has.'

Leo snuggles into me at this point as Jasper and Frank smile back at me.

‘So thank you, my wonderful tech lads. Thank you for looking out for me. Love you all.' I do tear up at this point which makes me mildly relieved that my body still has the capacity to do so, but they don't reply. I'm not sure Frank and Jasper think it appropriate given my current relationship status with Leo, but they nod.

‘Right, enough of this soppy shit. Go get in the warm,' Jasper says to snap us out of the emotion. ‘Have a good one, kids.'

‘Merry Christmas, guys.'

‘Merry Christmas, boss.'