Chapter Twenty-Four
Loretta
Carrie had taken a bit of persuading to join them for lunch on Christmas Day but after talking it through with her auntie she’d decided it might be a nice idea. And now here Carrie was, standing at the front door to the Chamberlains’ home in Butterbury.
‘I’m nervous.’ Carrie held a winter bouquet that she thrust at Loretta.
‘It’s beautiful, thank you. And I understandthe nerves.’ Her voice soft, she didn’t rush Carrie. And she’d spoken with Carrie’s auntie Ruth already to assure her that they all had Carrie’s best interests at heart, that they’d look after her. ‘Remember you’ve met most of the family already. And everyone wants you to be here today.’
Loretta tipped her head, her arms full. ‘Come on, get it over with. Otherwise I’ll turn into an icicle andyou can guarantee the turkey will be ruined.’ Although a hard frost had made Butterbury look pretty from the warm confines of the house, without a coat on after Loretta had stepped outside to cajole their guest to come in it was freezing. ‘Daisy is in charge of the turkey this Christmas,’ she whispered, ‘and although she has many, many strengths, I don’t think her talents quite extend to turkey justyet. I don’t even think she knows what the word basting means, never mind one end of the bird from the other.’
Carrie at last followed Loretta inside the house, into the warmth. She removed her coat and hung it on the banister, briefly glanced at the quilted advent calendar, and the next thing they knew Cooper was charging along the corridor after Busker. ‘He took the last piece of gingerbread!That was mine!’ Cooper wailed.
Loretta grabbed Busker and tugged the remains of the biscuit from his jaws before scolding him. ‘I know it’s Christmas but too much sugar is bad for you.’ She motioned to her grandson, ‘Grab him one of his own biscuits, Cooper.’
‘Mum!’ came Daisy’s call from the kitchen. The girls had no idea Carrie had arrived – Loretta had spotted her from the top window, lurkingoutside, nervous as anything. ‘The turkey is done too early!’ came another yell of panic.
‘Mayhem, that’s what this house is,’ said Loretta, and led the way into the kitchen. Carrie would hopefully follow.
Everett took the bouquet from Loretta. He briefly nodded to Carrie who had indeed followed Loretta and with a reassuring smile at the newcomer and a brief introduction, he went to get a vase.
‘Right, Daisy, what’s the problem?’ Loretta peered at the beautifully golden, crispy-skinned turkey. ‘Oh, yes, it certainly does look done. Did you put the thermometer in?’
‘To take it’s temperature?’ Daisy asked as though it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard.
‘Sometimes it looks done but inside it’s not cooked,’ Carrie volunteered, her voice gentle and giving away how big a featit was for her to speak up. Even though she’d been with Fern, Ginny and Daisy before, this felt very different even for Loretta, and it had to be a lot tougher for Carrie. Ginny and Fern were sitting at the table, Ginny mending the end of the torn tablecloth and Fern sitting with her feet up on another chair until she was needed again.
Ginny stopped what she was doing and came over to give Carriea hug, Fern followed soon after. ‘Merry Christmas,’ they both said in a way that suggested they didn’t need to say much at all apart from that, at least not until they were all ready.
‘I’ll hug you later,’ Daisy persisted with a frown as she stood at the kitchen worktop, still unsure what to do next. ‘How can it be done outside but not inside?’ And when she took the meat thermometer from Lorettashe cried, ‘I’ve ruined the Christmas dinner.’
‘I helped my mum every year,’ Carrie offered.
Daisy didn’t even hesitate. She put down the thermometer, took off her apron and hooked it over Carrie’s head. ‘In that case, you’re in charge.’
It was the best thing the girls could’ve done as they all rallied and Carrie’s shoulders dropped a little in relief as she plunged the thermometer into theturkey. Daisy was drumming her fingernails on the worktop alongside, anxiously awaiting the verdict.
After a moment Carrie declared, ‘It’s perfect, Daisy.’
‘Yeah?’ But her face fell. ‘Not much good when nothing else will be ready for ages. It’ll be stone cold by lunchtime.’
‘You’ve been thinking about Joshua too much, that’s your problem,’ Ginny teased.
‘I was sure I’d calculated the timingsright,’ Daisy moaned, recounting the kilograms and time per kilogram, the estimates she’d made of when to put in the potatoes, the pigs in blankets, the stuffing, vegetables.
‘Let’s face it, you didn’t get the maths gene,’ said Ginny before adding, ‘neither did I, don’t worry. What about you, Carrie, are you any good at maths? Dad was a bit of a whizz. Fern is too.’
Carrie looked as though shewere wondering whether it was a trick question but then said, ‘I’m studying maths and economics A-level.’
Fern gave a cheer. ‘At last, someone else with the family maths gene.’
‘Sounds dull to me,’ said Ginny. ‘Give me textiles any day – if I had my choice now, that is.’
‘What did you study?’ Carrie wondered.
Ginny explained her career path, her love of midwifery, the change of course she’dhad lately after the travel and the hopping from one workplace to another and slowly casual conversation gave way to each of them revealing different parts of themselves. ‘It feels like the right time to make a change,’ she finished. ‘Come back home, be in the shop.’
Daisy interrupted them. ‘As much as I wouldloveto talk about careers and Butterbury and life choices, what about the turkey?Nothing else is ready!’
