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“Yeah. Hey, I was thinking, it would be cool to catch up in the New Year. I miss you. It’s about time we got things sorted between us, don’t you think?”
“Um, yes, I s’pose?” Did he mean sorted as in officially break up, or sorted as in get back together?
“Great. Well how about I give you a bell after Christmas is out of the way and we can fix something up.”
“Sure, sounds great.”
“OK, well I’d better get on, lots to do. Thanks for calling, it was good to catch up. See you.”
“Bye.”
Kate hung up the phone and stared at it in her hand. What the hell was that all about? Alex was a master at being vague, yet something told her he’d called to check up on her. Maybe she was just paranoid. Either way, it would be good to see him again and get some answers about where she stood. Kate had been happy waiting on the sidelines in Bath, but now she’d started her new life, she needed answers. She’d love nothing more than for them to be a proper couple again, but even if that wasn’t possible, the thought of being able to move on brought its own sense of relief.
*
Kate was forcing down a piece of buttered toast when Joy appeared at the kitchen window holding a tin in her arms. Unlocking the back door, Kate stepped aside as the old lady bustled her way in.
“It’s freezing out there today. Damp too. No good for my old bones. I should’ve moved to the Costa del Sol years ago.”
Kate smiled. “It’s warm in here. Do you fancy a tea or coffee?”
“No ta, dear, this is only a flying visit. I just wanted to bring you this.” Joy lay the tin down on the kitchen counter, “and this.” Next to the tin was a fat brown envelope.
“Thanks,” said Kate, “but what are they?”
“There’s a Christmas cake in that tin. Should be a good one, I’ve been feeding it since August, and in that envelope are photos of your grandmother, and a few I found of your dad. I don’t have time to go through them with you now, but if you have any questions about who’s who I can sit down with you on Boxing Day. That’s if I’m still invited.”
“Of course you are. Thanks so much for bringing these round. I promise not to eat all the cake before you get here on Boxing Day.”
“I’d prefer it if you do. I’ve got a whole cake for myself at home. It should last me a year if I’m careful.”
“OK, well thanks. I really appreciate it. Where are you off to now?”
“I’ve got a couple more cakes to deliver, then my Christmas presents to buy. I can’t believe Christmas is only a week away, it sneaks up on me every year.”
“Yes, time flies when you’re having fun.”
“And it travels at the speed of light when you reach my age. Every year I think it will be my last Christmas, then every year I stick around for the next. Part of me wants to join my chums in the sky. I bet they’re all having a right laugh up there at this time of year. Anyway, dear, I’d better be off. See you next week.”
“Bye,” said Kate, closing the door behind Joy and carrying the envelope through to the living room.
Kate stacked the pile of photos on the table and began looking through them one by one. There was no rhyme or reason to their order. In some, Moira was a young brunette, with unlined skin and made-up face. In others she appeared much older, white hair fixed in a perm, a smattering of lipstick the only trace of makeup. Kate began sorting the photographs into piles, judging the decades by the changing hairstyles of the women.
The Christmas theme ran through the photographs, with the Christmas pile twice the size of all the others. In most of the photographs Moira had either a cocktail or sherry in her hand. In one picture she had both. There were several photographs of couples gathered around a dining table in what was now Kate’s bedroom. The only faces she recognised were Moira’s and Joy’s, so she stuck a post it note to the back as a reminder to ask Joy about it.
Kate’s breath caught at a series of photos showing a small boy opening a present. The boy grinned up at the camera, holding his new train set aloft. She recognised the boy as her father, and wondered whether her own boys would look like him, if she ever got around to having children of her own.
Another pile contained photos of Moira and Joy on what looked like a cruise ship. Another set showed various days out to the beach, two small boys building sandcastles while the two women sunbathed on towels. There were several photos taken in the room where Kate sat, and she felt a strange colliding of lives as fading faces peered out at her. Kate sat back in the chair and looked at the piles of memories scattered over the table. She knew exactly what to get Joy for Christmas now. She collected her laptop and phone from her bedroom and set to work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE LAST-MINUTE BOOKINGcame through late the previous evening. When Kate read the message accompanying the booking request, it had taken all of one second to accept it.Coming back to where my husband lived as a little boy… his last Christmas… making memories…
As it was so close to Christmas, and given the couple’s circumstances, it felt right to go the extra mile. Kate nipped into town first thing and bought all she needed. A bottle of wine stood beside the usual tea and coffee, two slices of Joy’s Christmas cake sealed in a mason jar beside it. Despite being so close to the day itself, Kate managed to pick up a small artificial Christmas tree in the charity shop and it stood, all winking fairy lights and tinsel in pride of place in the guest living room. The final touch had been a small gift, a book she’d found full of old photographs of the town. She lay the wrapped book on the bed.
Kate worried how her guests would fare with the stairs. After hearing about the husband’s condition, she’d made it clear that all guest facilities were on the first floor, but the woman had assured her it wouldn’t be a problem. Kate had her doubts, but hoped they proved unfounded.
The guests arrived at ten. As it was such a quiet time of year for bookings, Kate felt no qualms about offering an early check in. On the dot of the hour, she opened the door to a smart, middle-aged couple.
