(The Taming of the Shrew)
It had been a perfect Christmas day, even though they’d both awakened stiff and uncomfy on the sofa after a night bundled in each other’s arms listening to the clanking of the radiators and Grandad snoring upstairs in what had been Kelsey’s childhood bedroom.
Mari had helped Grandad downstairs that morning and they’d all sat in dressing gowns and slippers drinking coffee and eating hot, buttered bran scones. Jonathan had never seen the rough brown savoury scones before but happily devoured two while everyone watched Calum tear open his presents.
‘That’ll be the last we hear from him, then,’ Grandad said as Calum unboxed the games console he’d been hoping for all year long, and Mari agreed with a wistful laugh that had all of her memories of earlier Christmases when her children were still little wrapped up in it.
Everyone else’s gifts were modest – new pyjamas and slippers, chocolates and smelly stuff, and Kelsey had taken the opportunity to redistribute her wealth of Blythe’s gin jam – and the unwrapping had been happy and relaxed now theirs was a house full of adults adjusting to what Christmases would be like from now on now Calum was growing up.
Kelsey had been thrilled to unwrap Jonathan’s gift to her, a box of vintage, coloured glass filters – attachments for her dad’s camera. She’d scoured eBay for something similar over the years and never found any. How had Jonathan known, she’d wondered, wide-eyed and delighted.
‘Dad gave me them the second I told him you were a camera enthusiast. They were from his old Canon camera so I think they’ll fit, right?’
Kelsey attached them to her camera’s lens straight away, snapping tinted images in pink and orange, red and green, exclaiming all the while how thoughtful Jonathan had been.
‘Thank Art, it was his idea,’ he said.
Christmas had always been a cosy affair at the Andersons, a day for Buck’s Fizz well before noon and musicals on the telly. Lunch was always plentiful and hearty. Mari traditionally hosted the whole family as well as her closest friend Ted and his husband Alex, and it wasn’t unusual for Grandad to be there early in the day to help peel the sprouts, and that’s just what he’d done that morning while the turkey cooked in the oven and everyone lounged on the sofas looking at theTV Times, catching up on the details of Kelsey’s new life and hearing all about Jonathan’s closing night as Hamlet.
Ted and Alex arrived at twelve with their toothless rescue mutts, George and Mildred, and the revelry increased by a few hundred decibels as everyone shouted over the dogs’ yapping every time Calum’s console gargled and beeped with the sounds of the rebooted retro arcade games he was already mastering.
‘Is Jonathan enjoying himself, do you think?’ Mari had whispered during a quieter moment before lunch as she decorated the kitchen table with trailing ivy and holly from the garden all wrapped around a thick red pillar candle that only came out once a year. Kelsey stirred the gravy and kept an eye on the steaming veggies.
‘He’s fine, yeah, just look at him.’
They peered through the doors leading to the living room framing Jonathan sitting beside Grandad helping him with aPolar Expressjigsaw, both men talking through their strategies (‘build the edges first, then find all the black bits of the engine’) and frowning with concentration. Mum and daughter smiled and carried on with their preparations while the Robbie Williams Christmas album played from the ancient stereo that had been Kelsey’s dad’s.
‘Love, there’s something I need to tell you,’ Mari said as she finished setting out the holly leaf paper napkins, glancing nervously at the kitchen clock, but there hadn’t been time to say anything else because the doorbell rang and Mari opened the door to a stranger in a shirt and tie under a gaudy Christmas jumper and she ushered him into the kitchen.
‘This is Rory,’ Mari said to Kelsey over the man’s shoulder.
‘I’ve heard so much about you, Kelsey,’ he’d said gently, his freckled cheeks glowing pink from the cold outside. The wide-eyed look Kelsey threw over Rory’s shoulder at Mari as she gave him a quick hug saidthat was funny because she hadn’t heard anything about him. Mari only blushed.
‘Looks like you’re about to serve up, do you need a hand with that?’ Rory offered and he and Kelsey worked together on the last of the preparations.
‘Your mum tells me you’re planning an exhibition at your very own gallery?’ he said as he drained the potatoes and his glasses steamed.
‘That’s right, on my little barge.’ It sounded almost comical but there it was. In less than two months she’d be opening her very own gallery.
‘Your mum’s so proud of you. She can’t wait to see it.’
‘You should come to the opening too.’ Kelsey had said it before she’d thought it through. Rory and Mari were smiling and making gasping, surprised laughs across the kitchen as Mari spooned cranberry sauce into a little glass dish. ‘Or,uh, sorry, is that a weird thing to say? You’ll probably be busy working… at your,um…’
‘Opticians?’ he offered.
‘Ah! Yes, you might be busy at the opticians.’
‘Never too busy for your mum. That’s where we first met, actually; when she came in for her sight test.’
‘You didn’t meet on a dating app?’ Kelsey was surprised.
‘Uh, no, I wouldn’t know much about that sort of thing.’ Rory’s ears were turning pink and he focused hard on buttering the carrots.
Mari untied her apron, coming to Rory’s rescue. ‘You know, Rory, itwouldbe nice to take a trip somewhere together.’
Kelsey slipped away, peering into the fridge, trying to make herself look busy.
‘You wouldn’t mind if I came along to the gallery opening?’ Rory said delightedly.
