Chapter Fourteen
Loretta
Ivor lowered himself onto the third step of the staircase and Loretta squeezed in beside him.
‘Wonder how long we’ll have to sit here before they find us,’ Ivor chuckled. He and Loretta were ready to turn back time and watch the girls hang ornaments on the quilted advent calendar, but all three of them were cooking in the kitchen. ‘I know I’m old and I sometimes needa bit of a head start to get somewhere, but I don’t want to sleep here.’
‘Come on, girls,’ Loretta called, exactly the way she had done when they were little, when the house had been chaotic, loud, a commotion but in a good way that was, quite simply, their family. Already her daughters were coming together in ways she’d hardly dared to imagine. They’d been sourcing material for Ivor’s quilt,they’d been talking through ideas, and with each passing day it felt as though slowly the family was coming back together.
Fern was first, the other two girls filing after her. She was still wearing Loretta’s beige apron with the yellow and white daisies imprinted on it as well as a big splash of what looked like red wine. ‘The dinner is almost done, I’ve set the timer for it to rest for tenmore minutes,’ she announced, glass of wine in hand.
‘And I’ve mashed the potatoes,’ Ginny added, ‘the veggies are ready too.’
Ivor rubbed his hands together in anticipation. ‘Butterbury Lodge does have a good menu but there’s nothing like a home-cooked meal with your family.’
Loretta watched her daughters admiring the calendar and giggling between them as they debated who got to be the firstto hang an ornament. She interrupted the banter. ‘You do realise we’re well into December. Each of you will get to hang a few, so does it really matter who goes first?’
Fern reminded them all of today’s date. ‘And ten divided by three is three, remainder one.’
‘Always the mathematician,’ Ivor smiled.
‘Grandad, it’s hardly Archimedes-level maths.’
Loretta watched her daughters and for onceFern seemed more relaxed, as though enveloped in a warmth and steadiness she hadn’t had in a long while. But as nice as it was to witness, it had Loretta worrying that there might really be something wrong at home with Everett or with the boys, or even both, something she wasn’t about to share with anyone. And she hoped whatever it was Fern wouldn’t leave it too late to sort out.
‘Who’s Archimedes?’Daisy whispered into Ivor’s ear, distracting Loretta from her worrying. ‘What? Maths was never my thing,’ she told her older sister who cast a bewildered look her way.
Fern explained who Archimedes was before Ginny said, ‘Come on, let’s get this show on the road.’
Daisy agreed and handed her glass of wine to Loretta. ‘There’s a glass waiting for you in the kitchen, Mum. And you can relax, I’lltake Grandad back to the lodge later.’
‘You sure?’
Daisy waved a hand as though it was no problem. ‘Flo apparently needs a bit of help with one of her projects.’
‘She’s in a bit of a pickle,’ added Ivor.
‘Who’s doing the first of December?’ Ginny grinned at Daisy. ‘You could do it. I’ll lift you up to reach the tree if you like.’
‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary.’ Daisy let out a yelpwhen Ginny ignored her and tried to lift her off the floor anyway. She only managed to get her feet dangling an inch or two above the wooden floorboards before she admitted defeat.
After Daisy batted Ginny away she pulled out a material ornament from the square embroidered with a ‘1’ on the front. It was in the shape of a dancing elf, its pointy ears and look of mischief a match for Loretta’syoungest daughter. She hung it on the tree before Ginny took out an angel on a pale blue background from the second pocket, Fern a reindeer from the third, all of them excited as though this was far more than hanging material items onto a bigger piece of quilted fabric, which of course, it was. It was a part of their childhood, a memory to draw them together, and Loretta embraced the sound of theirgiggles as they regaled anecdotes one after another.
Ginny picked up her wine again. ‘Do you do the snowy footprints for the boys?’ she asked Fern, who was leaning against the bannisters next to where Loretta and Grandad sat. ‘Like Dad did for us.’
Harry had always left Father Christmas footprints in the hallway for his girls. He would put on his wellington boots and Loretta would follow himwith a sieve of flour dusting the top of each boot before he took the next step.
‘Not anymore. It’s a shame they’re too old to believe.’
Ivor protested, ‘I still believe.’
‘Yeah, sure, Grandad.’ Ginny grinned.
‘Christmas was more magical when the boys were young,’ said Fern. ‘They’d be unbearable on Christmas Eve, bouncing around with excitement. Everett and I were exhausted every single yearwaiting for them to fall asleep before we could sneak in and leave stockings at the ends of their beds. Everett’s excitement was almost on a par with theirs. He loves Christmas.’ It was as though Fern’s memories had transported her off to a place she badly wanted to get back to, as though she wasn’t quite there anymore.
Loretta began to smile. ‘You caught us doing the footprints one year, Fern.Do you remember?’
‘That’s terrible!’ said Ginny.
