Page 42 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets (Hartfell Village #2)
‘Ooh, our Erin, I thought you were never comin’ back,’ her nan shouted from the kitchen, a ladle in her hand.
Her grandad was in the armchair whisking cream in a bowl balanced precariously on his lap and her mum was setting the table.
Oli was stirring something on the hob, and she swiped at her face when she caught his eye.
His smile quickly became a laugh as Joyce peered inside the pan and told him to ‘stir a bit quicker, lad, if you’re thinkin’ of ’avin’ gravy with your dinner this side of t’new year. ’
‘Oh, it’s so brilliant to see you, I can’t believe it!
How did you get here?’ But she knew, and she barely trusted herself to look at Oli again as she brushed the tears away.
Her mum came over to hug her, murmuring, ‘As if you didn’t know, Erin, love.
’ She went to her grandad and bent down to kiss his dry cheek, and he grinned up at her.
‘You look like that’s always been your chair, Grandad. It suits you.’
‘Aye, it does.’ He winked. ‘Better watch out or I might be swappin’ with you. Go an’ see your nan, she’s been itchin’ for you to get back before her Yorkshires spoil.’
Her nan paused making the lunch long enough to let Erin bend down and hug her, and then she was chased from her own kitchen as Joyce informed her that she already had another pair of hands to help, and she should get her feet up while she could after the morning she’d just had.
‘But Nan, you’re on your feet, doing all this.’ Erin waved a hand to the organised chaos scattered over the worksurfaces. ‘You’re supposed to be taking it easy, and I thought you weren’t coming.’ Her voice stuttered as she caught Oli’s eye again.
‘Aye, well we weren’t, not until this lad turned up an’ said he was fetchin’ your mum back ’ere.
No point in us sittin’ on our own when I could be makin’ meself useful with you out at work all hours.
Now get out from under me feet, I’ve a dinner to make.
’ She shot Oli a look. ‘Lewis Hamilton can stay. Nearly ’ad us on two wheels on the way over.
I thought I wasn’t goin’ to live long enough to get me Yorkshires in t’oven. ’
‘Lewis Hamilton?’ Erin’s laugh was a spluttered one and Oli pulled a wry face.
‘I’m not sure your nan’s used to being driven,’ he said, laughing. ‘I wasn’t going that quickly, honestly. There were a couple of tricky moments in the snow, that’s all. How did you get on?’
‘All fine for now.’ Erin’s shoulders loosened as her tension eased, and she checked her phone anyway, just to make sure. ‘Probably won’t be the last call of the day though.’
The little house was bursting, and she was over the moon that Christmas had finally arrived.
The telly was on as her grandad kept an eye on repeats and her mum was setting out glasses and waving at someone through the window, Marnie perched on the back of the sofa and watching all this action warily.
Erin desperately wanted a word with Oli, but she didn’t imagine her nan would approve if he left the gravy alone at this crucial stage.
She went over anyway, almost drooling at the thought of a proper Christmas dinner after her early start.
‘Thank you.’ The words were a whisper, and she hoped her eyes were telling him more. ‘It means the world, especially when you can’t be with your family. I hope you feel welcome in mine.’
‘I do,’ he told her softly as Joyce muttered at the sink. ‘Although your nan said she’d knock my block off if there was any more messing about between you and me. I’m starting to realise you don’t mess with Joyce.’
‘You really don’t.’ Erin adored her nan’s loyalty. ‘But actually I think that’s high praise. If she didn’t like you, she’d have knocked it off already.’
She was trying to picture her life before Oli had landed back in it; her single-mindedness in focusing on work and her family, her small group of friends and the new ones she was making in Hartfell.
She loved the community here and was so grateful to be a part of it, something she hoped to build on for the future.
She’d never imagined sharing her life with someone else, not fully.
Not like her grandparents, whose lives were melded together with a bond that seemed stronger than steel.
They might bicker all day long and grumble constantly, but their partnership had endured almost sixty years, and the rhythm of their lives flowed as one.
Oli understood her career and its demands, the long and often unsociable hours.
She knew he recognised her desire for independence too, to create a life that gave her security and satisfaction.
In the years since they’d graduated, she’d never once come close to loving anyone else.
And for all that she longed to remain professional at work, was it really so impossible to think they might be together and keep that part of their lives separate from their colleagues?
Was she trying to push him away because she was afraid he wouldn’t stay?
But if she didn’t give him a reason, then why would he stay?
The lunch was amazing, and Erin and Oli ate on their knees because there wasn’t room for five around the table.
No one made Yorkshire puddings like her nan, and they were perfect: golden, fluffy and crisp.
Oli had wondered aloud why they were eating them when roast beef wasn’t being served, but he’d been faced down by four outraged stares and very firmly informed that Yorkshire puddings went with everything.
Joyce even promised to make her speciality for him one day, a large Yorkshire filled with steak, chips, peas and gravy, and Oli said he’d hold her to it.
Heather topped off the trifle with the cream Bill had whipped, and they paused for the king’s speech before desserts were served.
Joyce and Bill always had Christmas pudding followed by trifle, while Erin and her mum preferred it the other way around.
Joyce had brought a pot of thick, creamy custard she’d made, and warmed it before pouring it generously over the Christmas pudding and ignoring Oli’s protests that he was on call tomorrow, and he’d definitely need to be able to bend.
‘Give over, you numpty, a big fella like you needs a proper dinner.’ She dolloped on a bit more custard and Erin wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so content in her life.
She was full from her lunch and prayed she wouldn’t get called out in the next couple of hours; she doubted she’d be able to bend.
Maybe a second dessert hadn’t been such a clever idea after all.
She’d already sent her nan and grandad’s presents ahead as she hadn’t expected to see them today, and they’d opened them at home this morning.
She and Heather always made each other a stocking filled with small gifts they knew the other would love, and she was speechless all over again when her mum produced one for Oli too and set it on his lap.
‘I know you couldn’t be at home with your family, Oli, seeing as you’re supporting Erin with Gil away. I didn’t want you to miss out, it’s only a few little bits but I hope you like them.’
Erin caught the bright shine of tears in his eyes as he was looking at her mum. ‘Heather, gosh, this is so kind of you, and I really didn’t expect anything. We haven’t done stockings since I was a kid. I’m so sorry, I didn’t get you a gift.’
‘Oh you did, love, you did.’ Heather leaned across to squeeze Erin’s knee. ‘You got us here to spend Christmas with this one, and that’s all the present I needed. You’ll never know how much it means.’
Erin had to gulp back the emotion clutching at her throat, both at her mum’s words and her thoughtfulness towards Oli.
She also felt a shiver of shame; she’d been so busy protesting they must maintain their professionalism and pushing him away that she hadn’t thought to do anything quite so caring or reminiscent of home for him.
His support towards her was almost invisible but she knew it was there, nonetheless.
It was the flask he made for her in the morning if he was down first; the acceptance of her decisions these past few days at work and his efforts to make sure they were implemented.
The recipes he was following and the shopping he collected; all of it made a difference to her.
She was the one failing here; she was the one trying to convince herself that independence didn’t need to include love.
She and Oli were on the floor, and they unwrapped their stockings as Heather and her grandparents watched on.
In hers she found the usual gifts she cherished, like the orange lip balm she used every day in winter, a pair of bamboo socks and an indulgent hand cream she’d save for weekends.
There was chocolate and sweets too, plus a gift card for books, a gorgeous pair of Fair Isle knitted gloves, a candle from her favourite well-being range and a tangerine at the bottom.
Oli was unwrapping his gifts too, discovering a hat made from snug green wool, a trio of Old-Fashioned cocktails and a lip balm.
He loved the mini travel set of shower gel and shampoo, and promised to use his own book token wisely.
Alongside salted caramel chocolate buttons and a chocolate orange, he also discovered a chocolate first aid kit.
He opened it immediately, declaring he was in need of some first aid after such a magnificent lunch, and passed it around.
It took Joyce a moment to convince Bill, who’d been dozing, that he wasn’t about to cut himself on a pair of real scissors.
He said they were very nice but what was wrong with a tin of good old-fashioned Quality Street?