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“Miss. You ready for court? Should be a quick one.”
“Done in time for turkey?” Charlie asked.
“Not that quick, miss.” Joshua retreated, leaving her with her own thoughts again.
Charlie slowed down and took a moment. She closed her eyes and basked in the memories of Friday night with Elda. She’d been given the chance to tell Elda how she really felt. But it was all too much of a risk. Their unexpected time together at the Christmas party had reminded her just how much of a wonderful friend Elda was, and she was desperate for her to stick around this time. If that meant putting aside her aching need for more, then that’s what she’d do. She was used to putting up barriers and blocking emotions. She’d just have to channel her inner barrister. She picked up the phone and dialled Elda’s number.
“Hey you,” Elda said.
Charlie’s insides melted. It was going to be tough not letting her feelings get the better of her. “Hi. Listen, I haven’t got long, but I just wanted to ask you…” Charlie struggled to find the right words. “I’m house-sitting for a friend the weekend after New Year. Well, I’m looking after her cats while she’s away. She’s got a house in the countryside. It’s a lovely spot up north. Do you fancy keeping me company?”
The silence was brief but enough for Charlie to doubt herself three times over.
“Will there be a roaring fire and leftover mince pies?”
“I can arrange that, if you wish.”
“Sold. I’d love to spend the weekend house-sitting, stroking cats, and keeping you company.”
“Great. Good. I’m off to court. I’ll text you the details and pick you up next Friday afternoon. You’ll need—”
“A toothbrush and pyjamas?” Elda giggled.
“A proper coat and boots.” Charlie smirked. “Have a great Christmas, Elda.”
“You too. See you very soon.”
With the air cooling around her, she promised herself one thing. She wasn’t going to spoil everything and scare Elda off. She was back, and that’s all that mattered. If that meant they stayed in the friend zone, then that was fine. Charlie could definitely use a good friend.
Chapter Eighteen
On Christmas Eve, Elda borrowed Jack’s Mini and headed south towards her rural hometown. It wasn’t far, but Elda, as usual, dreaded turning the key to her childhood home.
She took a left into a horseshoe-shaped crescent of identical houses and parked in the short drive which had been carved from her tiny garden. There were fairy lights thrown around the blue door and a little sign imploring Santa to stop. She smiled to herself. Santa hadn’t stopped there for a while.
She knocked, crossed the threshold, and gathered her nerves.
“Elda, is that you? Come in, I’ve got your nan in my arms,” her mum shouted from the living room.
Elda set down her bags and slipped off her shoes and coat. By the time she entered the living room, her mum had settled her nan in the armchair. Her mum was shorter than Elda and slim from not eating and smoking too much. She had cut her brown hair short when Elda was a teenager, and it looked greasy from at least a week between washes. Her baby-blue jumper was from the Boxing Day sales more than a decade ago. Everything was a bit tired; tempers weren’t the only things fraying.
“You look tiny. What have you been eating? Nothing by the looks of it.” Her mum turned her nose up at Elda’s waist.
“Mum, I’m exactly the same.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t look it to me. Does she?” She shot a look towards Elda’s grandmother. Her brow was furrowed as if she was trying to work something out.
Her nan swallowed back tears. Elda kissed her cheek and squeezed her bony shoulders. She was shrinking. “I’m sorry I’ve left it so long to come home.”
“Don’t you apologise, lady. You live your life.” She patted Elda’s hand.
Her hair stood on end, with whispering white strands just a couple of inches long. Her face was wrinkled in all the right places, and beneath its age was an unforgotten beauty and grace. She looked like she’d been smiling at people her whole life.
Elda walked into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Her eyes scanned the ceiling and saw the bottles forgotten on top of the cupboards. Coming home was hard. There was hope, but it soon faded with impatience. There were endless questions to answer and expectations to set straight.
As she sat with her family to enjoy cold meats, pork pie, and oven-warmed rolls, Elda skimmed through the chronology of the last few months and tried to sound as buoyant as she could about her current situation.
“Life isn’t always as you expect it to be, Elda. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in that.” The lines on her grandmother’s cheeks scrunched together as she smiled.
