Page 53 of A Merry Little Christmas

Merry brushed a tear from her face. ‘Emily will be so upset if she doesn’t get the opportunity to say goodbye.’

She had rung her sister from the car on the way over, but the call had gone straight to voicemail. Merry hadn’t left a message, not wanting to worry her. Now she wondered if she’d done the right thing. She’d call again as soon as she had the chance.

‘The important thing to remember is that he’s comfortable,’ Gail reassured her. ‘He’s not in pain, and now that you’re here, he’s got a loved one with him.’

‘He has.’ She stroked his hand with her thumb. ‘I love you, Dad. So does Emily.’

‘You’re shivering.’ Gail touched her arm.

‘Not with cold.’ In actual fact, she felt clammy and hot. ‘It’s been quite a day already, and now this.’

Understatement of the century. So far this evening, she’d alienated everyone she’d come into contact with. She had so many apologies to make. She released Ray’s hand and peeled off her coat, hanging it on the back of a chair, and took out her phone. There was a missed call from Cole but nothing from Emily. She’d leave Cole for now; she was bound to be in trouble after her outburst from atop the ladder. Justifiably so, she acknowledged with a shudder, but she had enough on her plate. Right now, her priority was Ray.

Gail patted her arm. ‘Oh love, let me get you a nice soothing drink. We need to be looking after you as well as your father.’

‘That would be lovely.’ Merry swallowed the lump in her throat; the older woman’s kindness was almost too much to bear.

When Gail had left the room, Merry moved her chair as close as she could to the bed and stretched out her legs to get comfortable. She’d try calling Emily again in a second, but for now, she wanted to spend a few minutes alone with the man she’d only had in her life for the last twelve months, imprinting his features into her memory.

‘Remember my wedding, Dad?’ She took his hand again; it was cool and dry and unresponsive to her touch. ‘When you gave me Mum’s ring? That was such a special moment. I don’t think anything you could have done would have topped that, it made me so happy to have something of hers, especially on my wedding day.’

On her little finger, next to her wedding and engagement rings, was the silver wishbone ring she’d worn every day since then.

She smiled, recalling the moment of panic and Emily’s mortification during the wedding service when Ray had escaped from his seat and approached them at the front of the room just as the registrar had asked the congregation if anyone had any objections to their marriage. Emily had dashed up to retrieve him, and for a split second, Cole had thought his future father-in-law was going to object. But, instead, the most magical thing had happened; he’d produced this little ring. He’d proposed to Sam with it once upon a time, he’d told Merry, but she’d turned him down, and now the ring was hers.

‘I’ll treasure it forever, Dad,’ she promised now. ‘It’ll always remind me of you and her and that you loved each other once.’

The door to Ray’s room opened again and in came Gail carrying a tray.

‘Here you are,’ she said, setting it down. ‘I’ve brought you herbal tea and a couple of mince pies too. I remember being permanently starving when I was pregnant.’

Merry’s eyes blurred with tears at the sight of the mince pies as she recalled her words to Nell. That’s a lot of pastry.

There had been no need to say that, no need to say anything. She’d turned into a control freak, she thought miserably; she was doing it with Nell, and she’d even been doing it at home with Cole, trying to micro-manage every aspect of her life, not letting other people in. She’d had trust issues as a teenager; that was understandable given her upbringing, but it was no excuse now. If she couldn’t even let her best friend select refreshments for an in-store event, then she was no sort of friend at all. It was so nit-picky, so unlike her. She didn’t know herself at the moment.

No wonder Nell had resigned. And now Merry would be left to run Merry and Bright on her own. Oh God, Merry groaned under her breath; it didn’t even bear thinking about.

‘Are you all right?’ Gail’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. ‘Can I call anyone for you?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ll be fine. Thank you for the drink, just what I need.’

She wouldn’t eat the mince pies; she had no appetite, but the tea was very welcome. She took a sip and watched Gail put on some latex gloves and pick up a tiny sponge, which she dipped in water and touched to Ray’s lips. ‘Let’s wet your whistle too, shall we?’

Ray twisted his head away and Merry’s heart lurched; it was the first movement he’d made since she’d arrived. ‘Hello, Dad. Do you think he can hear me?’ she asked Gail.

‘We’re never really sure, but possibly,’ she replied, removing her gloves and dropping them in the waste bin. ‘He may recognise your voice even if he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. My advice is to take this moment as much for yourself as for Ray, say what you need to say.’

Merry nodded and bit her lip. ‘Is it OK to be alone with him for a few minutes?’

‘Of course,’ said Gail, with a sympathetic smile.

Once she had gone, Merry set down her mug and reached for Ray’s hand again. She felt stiff all over and every bone in her body ached. She’d been a fool to do so much today, and as for her attempt to rescue that budgie by climbing a ladder, that had been beyond ridiculous. She forced herself to put all of that out of her head and take Gail’s advice. If this was the last chance she’d ever have to talk to her dad, she’d regret it later if she’d spent her time worrying about things she couldn’t change.

‘I hope this isn’t our last conversation, Dad,’ she began hesitantly. ‘But if it is, I want you to know that I really love you and having you in my life this last year has been the most unexpected gift. I’ll always wonder what might have happened to Mum if you and she had got together properly after I was born. Maybe she’d have felt able to cope if you’d have been around. Who knows; there are all sorts of reasons why people take their own life. What I am sure of is that I’m really grateful that you had another daughter. You gave me a little sister. I love her so much, Dad, and even though she doesn’t live close by anymore, we have such a special bond already. I miss her, so you must miss her terribly.’

She paused to study her dad’s features for movement. Underneath his eyelids, she thought she saw his eyeballs flicker from side to side. He could hear her; she was sure of it.

‘I’m sorry it’s me here and not Emily,’ she said. ‘You have so many more memories with her than me. But the few you and I have made together have been all the sweeter for their scarcity. Having real relatives has been the icing on top of a spectacular couple of years.’