Page 7 of Not Just for Christmas

I missed my parents so much, but farming and taking holidays didn’t go well together. After Jack and I took over the farm, I’d only had one chance to fly to Australia. I’d gone for a month, just after Sam was born. I had only seen them a couple of times since, and one of those was for Jack’s funeral. Luckily they had recently retired, and I was hoping to see them more often. Starting with a long overdue holiday to Devon for Christmas. I was going to need them here to help me get through.

‘I wish it was only three weeks.’ Mum let out a long sigh. ‘That’s what I’m calling about. We can’t come, love. I’m so sorry.’

‘Oh no.’ My breath caught in my throat. ‘Why not?’

‘It’s your dad’s knees. He’s got his date for surgery for the first one.’ I could hear the tremor in Mum’s voice. ‘And it’s next week.’

‘What, so soon?’ I gasped. ‘He only saw the consultant last month.’

Dad had been a marathon runner in his younger days and was still fit and active now. The downside of a healthy lifestyle apparently was that your joints didn’t thank you for it as you got older. Now aged sixty-eight, he needed both knees replacing.

‘We’re as shocked as you,’ Mum sniffed. ‘It means he’ll be out of action all over Christmas. We’ve spent the day trying to see if we can rearrange until January, but if we do, he’ll lose his place in the queue and might not be operated on for another eight months. Which will mean a delay having the second knee done.’

‘He mustn’t turn the surgery down,’ I said. I knew how much pain he’d been in. ‘The sooner he gets it over with, the better.’

‘It’s the sensible thing to do.’ Mum had given up trying to hide her tears and her words were interrupted by sobs. ‘But I was so looking forward to us all being together for Christmas. I know how hard it is for you without Jack, I wanted to be there for you.’

‘I want you here too, Mum.’ I swallowed the lump in my throat.

This would be our third Christmas without him. The first had come only two days after Jack’s accident. I’d barely been aware of Christmas Day. I don’t think I even got dressed, just stared numbly into the flames of the fire, wondering how I was going to manage the farm and bring up Sam alone, while my parents did their best to occupy a confused little boy. Last year had been slightly better. Mum and Dad hadn’t flown over, but my best friend Caroline had insisted that Sam and I, plus my mother-in-law Heather spend Christmas Day with her family. Sam had been friends with Caroline’s daughter Tilly since birth and had loved having another child to play with, and I had been distracted from the absence of my gorgeous, noisy whirlwind of a husband for a few hours.

This year, I had been planning on having Christmas with all the trimmings: hanging Sam’s stocking above the fireplace, piles of presents, garlands of holly and ivy foraged from the farm, twinkly lights galore … and of course, the fairy on top of the Christmas tree was to be the arrival of my parents. Now my plans had vanished before my eyes.

‘We were wondering,’ Mum said falteringly, ‘and we know it’s not easy, but is there any way you and Sam could fly over to us? We’d pay your air fare.’

I closed my eyes briefly, blocking out the sight of the herd in their various sheds. The smallest currently home to eight calves, the cosier one where we kept the cows due to calve in the next few weeks. The milking shed, occupied by the dairy herd over winter until they could graze outdoors in spring again. If only it was that easy, I thought, if only I could lock the gates, jump on a plane and fly to the other side of the world.

‘That’s a kind offer, and I would love to, Mum, but …’ Tears trickled down my face.

‘But you can’t, I know. Don’t worry, love,’ said Mum bravely. ‘We’ll see each other soon, I’m sure, and there’s always FaceTime.’

There was a flurry of small footsteps in the yard, and I felt my spirits lift; I’d recognise that sound anywhere.

‘Mummy, Mummy!’ Sam climbed onto the bottom bar of the metal gate which secured the shed and waved an envelope in my direction. ‘Guess what!’

‘Er …?’ I pretended to think. ‘You’re back from school?’

He giggled. ‘Yes, but not just that.’

‘Careful, Sam!’ called my mother-in-law, arriving a moment later and putting an arm around his small form. ‘Looks like Mummy is busy on the phone.’

Heather doted on Sam, the last of the Oakley men. First her husband Jim had died from a heart attack, then Jack. She’d been the matriarch, presiding over Merrydown Farm for decades, farming right alongside Jim. She was a practical sort, from her outfits to her outlook. Her family was her only weak spot and in the months after losing Jack, we’d taken it in turns to cry on each other’s shoulder.

‘It’s Granny Linda on the phone,’ I told him. ‘Do you want to speak to her?’

‘Yes, can I tell her my news?’ He stretched out his hand, and I nodded, passing him the phone.

‘Granny, I’m going to be Joseph in the Nativity show at school!’

I heard my mum squeal with delight and then shout to repeat Sam’s news to my dad.

‘That’s amazing!’ I put my arm around him, and kissed the top of his head. ‘Well done, I’m super proud of you.’

I took the envelope from him which confirmed it. Sam had been angling for the role of Joseph since starting school. He was a sheep when he was five and had been furious about it. Jack and I had sympathised, but had a giggle to ourselves about his outrage. How I wished he was here now to see his son’s joy.

‘And Granny Linda,’ Sam continued, ‘make sure you’re here in time to watch.’

‘Oh Sam,’ I heard my mum say in a wobbly voice.