‘Uncle Lando!’
He didn’t look up and before we could stop them, they ran over to him, full of excitement about their walk. Bunny and I hastened our steps as they pulled at his arms and he lifted his leaden head. Even from several metres away, I could see how grey and drawn he looked. Bunny ran the last few steps and tried to shoo the children away, but they just got more excited, pulling at her sleeves and tugging at the basket she was holding. Stepping in when parents are there is one of the most difficult things to do elegantly, but sometimes it was necessary and Lando had dropped his head again. I went for the ‘ripping the sticking plaster off’ approach, and adopted my briskest tone:
‘Go and find your Uncle Xander, you two, he would love to hear your new song. I bet you can remember all the words for him, and he’ll be really impressed. Take your trugs and ask Pilar to put the greenery in some water. I’ll come…’ I trailed off and glanced at Bunny. She screwed her face up and made a little beckoning motion. ‘…Mummy and I will come soon and the quicker you go, the quicker we can come and find some biscuits.’
Galvanised, they skittered off towards the house, shrieking for Xander, and Bunny and I, in silent agreement, sat down on either side of Lando.
‘Lando, darling, what’s wrong?’ she asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. ‘You look absolutely desperate.’
He raised his head and stared in front of him.
‘It’s thisbloodyNativity scene for the church. It’s so nearly finished, but I can’t getbloodyMary right.’
‘Sounds like a Bloody Mary might be what you need.’
He didn’t even try to smile at her quip.
‘Seriously, Bunny, I’m running out of time – it’s got to be delivered on Christmas Eve. I should never have embarked on such a huge project. I’m not ready, I’m not good enough.’
He raked his hands through his hair, the picture of despair. Bunny looked at me helplessly.
‘What do you need?’ I asked.
Lando turned his head and glared at me.
‘Need? Oh, only about another six months and some actualtalent.’
‘Well, judging by the work of yours that I’ve seen so far, you certainly have the latter. Time clearly isn’t on your side, but there must be something else that would help?’
‘I suppose it might work if I had a live model. But that’s not going to happen at such short notice.’
We all sat in silence for a moment, me with an impending sense of dread as I anticipated how a solution could be found. It didn’t take Bunny long.
‘Well, Pixie can do it. Can’t you, Pixie?’
‘Er, well, I’m meant to be here as a mother’s help. What about the children?’
‘You can do it after they’re in bed maybe, or for the odd hour during the day. I’m the mother you’re helping, and it would be a wonderful help to me to see Lando less stressed. Thatwouldhelp, wouldn’t it, darling, if Pixie sat for you?’
Lando looked as dubious as I felt. He probably didn’t see many Madonna-ish qualities about me, and I couldn’t blame him. But, after a moment, his lips lifted in a slight smile.
‘Yes, yes, that would help – if you were willing, of course? It wouldn’t be many sittings.’
‘Of course I’ll do it. I’d be glad to,’ I lied. I couldn’t actually imagine anything worse than being shut in that tiny studio with the bad-tempered, humourless Lando for hours on end, but Bunny did have a point – I was there to help her, not to dictate what that help entailed.
‘Marvellous! Then it’s all sorted. Lando, you can stop looking so glum and let Pixie know exactly when you’ll need her. Come on, let’s get back up to the house before all this greenery we’ve collected starts to wilt.’
I followed her, wondering what exactly I might have let myself in for.
EIGHT
The sitting was not mentioned the next day at breakfast, which was a blessedly subdued affair with no surprise ‘mother’s help’ jobs launched at me. Having avoided all alcohol the night before, I was feeling fresh and enthusiastic.
‘Come on, you two, tear yourselves away from Paw Patrol. Let’s go and get dressed and then I shall get out my special, mystery, super-exciting box. We’ve got work to do.’
As hoped, this fired the twins up and within twenty minutes we were sitting at the kitchen table, their eyes shining with excitement and me clutching the large plastic box, wrapped in colourful festive paper, that I had received from the courier. That had been an extravagance, but I couldn’t possibly have brought it on the train, and I knew it had the potential to save Christmas.
‘What else is in it, Pixie? Oh, do show us.’
