‘I picked it up today.’
‘I’m impressed, you’re way more organised than I am. I’m not sure I’ll bother.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘I can just come and look at this one whenever I want, I’m only round the corner.’
She looked at the tree. ‘It’s beautiful but it’s not quite the same as decorating your own with all the ornaments you’ve collected over the years, the smell filling your living room, seeing it every morning before work, flicking on the lights when you come home.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’ He grinned. ‘So have you started decorating yours?’
‘You’re kidding, aren’t you? It was enough trying to manoeuvre it into the stand and get it upright. No, I’ll have to do it tomorrow.’
‘Can I make a suggestion? You know, seeing as you’re so into Christmas and everything.’
‘Go on.’
‘How about I come and help you decorate it?’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘We could do that…or we could do it now?’
‘On one condition,’ she said.
‘What’s that?’
‘We stop at the off-licence and get some wine, make a night of it.’
‘That sounds perfect.’
*
Music blared from the Sonos system Theo had had installed last summer. Mariah Carey’sAllI Want for Christmasplayed as Lydia and Connor sang at the tops of their voices. There was a trail of lights along the floor and Connor had checked all the bulbs worked before they both looped them around the tree, zig-zagging between branches until it was evenly covered.
‘What’s next?’ he asked, pausing his singing.
‘Baubles next.’ She had a certain order for things: lights, then baubles, then individual ornaments and lastly the angel at the top: the pièce de résistance.
Connor followed instructions, occasionally paused to sip his wine, and by the time they’d finished they both collapsed back against the sofa to check out their work.
‘I’d say it’s a job very well done.’ Connor raised his glass.
‘It’s perfect,’ Lydia agreed, chinking her glass against his. ‘Now only one more thing to do.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Sweep up all those pine needles.’
‘I’m a guest, I couldn’t possibly.’
Lydia reluctantly went and found the dustpan and brush and turned the music down a bit. The playlist had moved on to classic Christmas carols and while beautiful, playing them at a low volume was much nicer. She swept beneath the tree and to the sides while Connor slumped on the sofa and pointed out any bits she’d missed.
‘Any more from you,’ she said, pointing the brush at him, ‘and you’ll be cleaning up yourself if you want any more wine.’
When the home telephone rang Lydia was still beneath the tree, reaching far to the back to get the last of the needles and she caught her hair on a branch as she tried to reverse out, because the woman leaving a message on the answer machine wasn’t someone she wanted to talk to, and the words she was saying weren’t exactly what she wanted anyone else to hear.
‘So I’ve spoken to Grace, and with your arm being broken,’ Anita continued, ‘she’s said she’ll drive down to pick you up. Then you wouldn’t have to negotiate a train with a suitcase, which I agree would be very hard. Grace could come early Christmas Eve, drive you up here and you’d spend Christmas with us. I know Theo would love to see you and of course we would too. So anyway, call me back. And I hope the arm isn’t giving you too much grief.’
