Page 58 of The Merry Christmas Project

‘No worries,’ said Nell, ‘shall I grab us soup and rolls from the market and bring them up ?’

‘Sounds good. Astrid is here too. Astrid, do you want soup ?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m having cottage pie for lunch.’

The thought struck me that that was a very un-Astrid thing to eat but I relayed my soup order to Nell and five minutes later, she arrived with tubs of creamy leek and potato soup and freshy crusty rolls.

‘Wowsers.’ Nell stared at the whiteboard and the tables covered in candles in various stages of production. ‘It’s like a military operation in here. Who are you and what have you done with my freewheeling friend ?’

‘The devil’s in the detail,’ I said, tapping my nose. ‘I’m not leaving anything to chance. But I must admit my brain has started to hurt.’

‘Then sit and eat,’ said Astrid. ‘I have been here for two hours and you are busy all the time. You’re working at a hundred miles an hour. Come.’ She pulled out the chair next to her and Nell and I sat down to tuck into our soup.

‘I wasn’t going to eat carbs today,’ said Nell, ripping her bread. ‘But then I had a call from my mother wanting to know about our Christmas plans, and so now I need the comfort.’

Astrid shook her head and laughed. ‘Considering it is the most wonderful time of the year, Christmas certainly brings with it its fair share of stress.’

‘Is she still hoping you’ll visit her ?’ I asked, sprinkling a sachet of black pepper onto my soup.

‘She is. And she’s ordered Christmas in a box from a very well-known London food emporium to lure us over.’

‘But you are not tempted ?’ Astrid asked.

Nell pulled a face while she chewed and swallowed her bread. ‘The food would be amazing and everything would be beautiful. But in our house I can relax. At theirs, no sooner do you put your empty mug down – on a coaster, naturally – than Dad has whisked it away to stack in the dishwasher. Mum has even extended the invitation to Olek’s parents and Max, which is a sure sign that they’re getting desperate.’

I did feel some sympathy for Mr and Mrs Thornberry ; they might be a bit overbearing and difficult to relax around, but Nell was their only daughter and they weren’t getting any younger.

‘Is that not a good compromise ?’ I said, ‘all of you going to them, so you can still be together ?’

‘Not really, because my mother-in-law likes to be in charge of dinner on Christmas Eve. She makes the most amazing food; you’ve tasted her pierogi.’

I nodded. They were out of this world; I’d had all sorts of savoury ones filled with potato, cheese and cabbage, but my favourites were blueberry dusted with icing sugar.

‘And unfortunately,’ Nell continued, ‘there’s no way on earth my mother could share her kitchen.’

‘What a blessing,’ said Astrid wistfully, ‘to have such a large family to argue with.’

‘I suppose so,’ Nell said, chastened.

Astrid was an only child born to older parents who had now passed away, and like me she had no family. It was another reason why she had felt drawn to me when she’d been my art teacher.

‘I think you should consider Olek’s suggestion and invite everyone to you,’ I said.

‘And tell them not to cancel the Christmas in a box, they can bring it with them,’ Astrid added.

‘But our house is tiny. My parents are used to a bathroom each. And at Christmas I like wearing pyjamas all day and drinking Prosecco and not washing up for hours.’

‘Then do that,’ I said simply.

She shook her head. ‘If Mum comes it’ll be all meals at the table and dressing for dinner. I’ll be on edge the whole time.’

‘Your house, your rules,’ I said.

‘If your parents love you,’ said Astrid kindly, ‘they will accept you as you are. They will be happy just being with you.’

‘You haven’t met them.’ Nell let out a long breath. ‘But I’ll sleep on it. Thanks, ladies.’

‘Before you arrived, I was hearing about Fred,’ I said, understanding she was ready to change the topic. ‘Astrid has a new male friend who just happens to be Cole’s father.’