Page 23 of The Christmas Letter

‘You bring in all the art for Impression Sunrise, don’t you?’

Emma took a healthy glug of champagne. ‘I wanted to do it more seriously, at one point,’ she told Holly. ‘I went back to university in my forties, after Richard had grown up and moved out and I had the time. Did Art History, then a master’s degree – all part-time. But then . . . Well . . .’ She didn’t need to finish, because Holly understood all too well – a car crash had derailed Emma’s dreams, just as it had her own.

Pam reached over to the other side of the sofa and gave Emma’s hand a squeeze. Then she finished her champagne, putting her glass down on the table. ‘Time for some sherry, I think. Emma – you have sherry, don’t you?’

‘About the only thing I do have.’ Emma got up and shuffled out the room, leaving Holly feeling a little baffled. They hadn’t even finished the champagne yet – and now on to sherry? It seemed like Pam was angling for a very merry Christmas indeed.

Pam was getting out her phone, putting on a Christmas playlist. ‘There’s no speaker in here, unfortunately,’ she told Holly. ‘But even so, it lifts the atmosphere, don’t you think? I’m afraid starting a fire’s a little beyond me, though,’ she added, eyeing the fireplace suspiciously.

She folded her hands on her lap and gave Holly a very direct look. ‘So, Holly,’ she continued. ‘How’s the love life?’

Holly wrinkled her nose. ‘Non-existent, as of the day before yesterday.’ Though she hadn’t thought of Daniel since she’d walked into Emma’s house. The realisation caused a flare of guilt. Which was ridiculous. He broke up with her. She shouldn’t be the one feeling guilty.

‘Hmm. Well, I had to go through four husbands to meet the right one – maybe you’re doing the right thing, choosing to be single.’

‘My boyfriend broke up with me,’ Holly said flatly. ‘It was hardly a choice.’

Pam pursed her lips. ‘Well, there’s always another one around the corner – young people today are too picky, in my opinion.’ Despite the fact that Pam had just directly contradicted herself, Holly felt a little lurch in her stomach. Because it hadn’t been her being picky, had it? She would have quite happily ticked along with Daniel – was all ready to move in with him, for Christ’s sake. But he hadn’t picked her.

‘Where is your husband now?’ Holly asked, moving the subject along.

‘Oh, he’s next door, cooking Christmas lunch. He likes to sneak a glass of wine or two while I’m not there and pretend to open the first bottle of the day over lunch, and I like to pretend I don’t notice because that way I get dinner cooked for me. Speaking of which,’ – she said, looking up as Emma walked back into the room, a slightly dusty-looking bottle of sherry in hand – ‘Emma, what are you feeding this girl for Christmas lunch?’

Emma scowled, and Holly cleared her throat. ‘I think pasta’s on the menu. Which I love,’ she added quickly, because Pam was looking almost comically shocked.

‘No, no, no,’ she said. ‘That just won’t do.’ She held up a finger as she picked up her mobile, causing the Christmas music to stop and earning a ‘Thank God for that’ from Emma. ‘Jim?’ Pam said into the phone. ‘We’ll have two more for lunch.’ A pause. ‘Emma and her friend . . . Don’t be silly, we have plenty of Brussels sprouts . . . Neither of us even likes Brussels sprouts, for God’s sake. And it’ll do you good to have one less roast potato and you know Emma barely eats anything . . . Yes . . . Yes, exactly . . . Don’t worry, darling, I have every faith. We’ll see you shortly.’ With that, she hung up the phone, and nodded brightly to Emma and Holly.

‘That’s settled then. You’ll both come round.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t—’

‘Oh, nonsense. We’d love to have her, wouldn’t we, Emma?’

‘Who said I even wanted to come?’ Emma grumbled.

‘Ignore her, Holly, she doesn’t mean any of it.’

Emma sighed but shot Holly a look. ‘I suppose you could help entertain Pam over Christmas lunch, if you were to stay, so I don’t have to.’

‘Right, well, both of you go and get dressed, then,’ Pam said, making a shooing gesture with her hands. ‘You’re not coming round unless you make some sort of effort.’

Emma slouched out first, leaving the sherry on the glass coffee table. Holly got up more slowly, glancing again at the three photos on the mantel.

‘It’s a sad story,’ Pam said, a gentleness coming into her voice now.

Holly looked back, saw Pam watching her.

‘Do you know what happened – why her grandson doesn’t speak to her anymore?’

Pam looked at Holly for a long moment before shaking her head. ‘It’s not my story to tell. And to be honest, by the time we met it was already in the past, so I’m not even sure I have the details I’d need to do it justice.’

‘Where is he now?’

Pam hesitated. ‘Last Emma told me, he was in London, working at one of those management consultancy thingummyjigs.’

Holly’s heart gave a little jolt. He was so close to her. Windsor and London were different worlds – she knew that well enough, having escaped from one to go to the other – but they were just a short train ride away from one another. And she’d even be in London in March, for the school trip with Abi.

But she turned away from the photos, took a step towards the living room door. It was not her business. It was up to Emma to tell her about it, up to Emma to get in touch with her grandson if she wanted to.