Page 27 of So This is Christmas

‘It’s a really beautiful tree.’ She didn’t sit down at first – she wanted to admire the towering Christmas tree that filled the lounge with its fragrance.

With the garlands strung across the mantelpiece, the roaring fire, sprigs of holly on the edges of picture frames on the walls, the tree and its many decorations, this room felt like she’d stepped into a different world.

It was full of magic and reminded her of the feeling she’d managed to find with Martin and with Hayden but never with her own mother.

Had her parents loved the festive season once upon a time?

Was it her father leaving that had broken it for her mother and ruined her ability to show much love to Sophie at all?

She had no idea and now there was nobody who could give her the answers to her questions.

Sophie spotted the Father Christmas decoration on the tree and reached out to feel the texture of the woollen, white-bearded jolly-faced figure with the light brown sack of presents slung over his shoulder.

One year not only were there no decorations at her house, but her mother had also told her there was no Father Christmas.

Sophie was filled with excitement in the run-up to Christmas, absorbing the same merriment from school friends and neighbours, and had been talking about the man in red non-stop.

One evening when the sky outside was dark but for a smattering of stars, as her mother drew the curtains across to keep in the heat, it was as if something inside her snapped.

She told Sophie that she shouldn’t believe in something that was only created to trick people.

Commercialism , she’d said before she started on a rant about Easter, Father’s Day and Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, whatever nice occasion she could think of.

She’d kissed seven-year-old Sophie on the head then and told her that birthdays were different and for a moment Sophie had felt special, she’d felt loved and seen.

But she’d never forget how devastated she’d felt, that whatever magic she’d managed to keep inside of herself had been decimated by her mother.

‘I bought that for Mum,’ said Nick. She hadn’t even realised he was beside her. She thought he was tending to the fire, making sure it had enough coal or kindling.

She pulled her fingers from the Father Christmas decoration. ‘He’s wonderful. You have so many ornaments and such a variety.’

‘Mum never went in for everything matching. I’m glad you like it. We’ve collected quite a lot over the years.’

‘Do you have a tree at your place?’ Sophie asked as they perused the branches that featured everything from woodland creatures, miniature nutcrackers and shiny baubles to little sprigs of berries.

‘I don’t bother, seeing as it’s just me and I spend so much time here. Dad always gets a beauty.’

‘It’s certainly that.’ The high ceilings had allowed for what must be an at least seven-foot tree. When the fire spat it made her jump and she turned as Nick went to put the guard across the front.

She looked at the beautiful garland running along the mantelpiece. ‘You have a lot of Christmas cards already,’ she said to Walter who had lined up quite a few behind the garland. A further collection of cards was strung on ribbon between picture frames.

Walter got up to join her in front of the fire, safe from any more sparks now that the guard was in place.

He pointed first to a card with three wise men on the front.

‘This one is from Aaron – he came into our lives when he was twenty. He’d had a terrible time with depression and his father was a mess and couldn’t deal with him – he’s married now and runs a guest house with his wife in Ireland.

’ He moved to the next card with a snowman on the front.

‘This is from Bryony who stayed with us for six months. She worked for us in England and when she got pregnant her folks didn’t want to know.

We had her with us until she had enough money for her own place. ’

He went through three other cards, telling the stories behind each one.

‘You and Greta really did open your hearts,’ said Sophie.

When the fire spat again Sophie jumped and she stood back more because of the heat. ‘I bet you love having the fire,’ she said to Walter.

‘I do, and Nick has done a great job for me. If I play my cards right he might even clean the grate out in the morning.’

‘Of course I will, Dad.’ Nick was sitting on the sofa behind them and Sophie wasn’t sure, but she thought he might have been watching them as they went through the cards. ‘I don’t have a fireplace at my apartment so this is a novelty for me,’ he said to Sophie.

‘I’ve got a gas fire at home. Not quite the same though, is it?’

Nick smiled. ‘Are you staying through New Year or will you be going home before then?’

‘I’m planning to leave just after the New Year.’ She turned her attention to the fire again – never mind how cosy it was, it was a good distraction. Nick made her nervous even when it came to simple questions, and it had been a long time since she’d felt like that in front of a man.

When there was still no sign of Jennie they decided that it was time to get dinner started.

By the time they sat down at the table Jennie still hadn’t arrived, and Sophie hoped she wasn’t the cause of her absence.

Was Jennie that wary of her that she’d stayed away?

Sophie doubted it – she was more likely to want to be here to watch her every move, although she had to admit it was nice to be able to relax a bit.

‘What’s your verdict, Sophie?’ Nick asked, indicating the food.

‘It’s good. I can’t say it’s excellent because I made it and I’d sound really arrogant.’

‘Nobody would think that. And my verdict is that it is excellent,’ he said.

‘Agreed,’ Walter added. ‘Excellent and delicious.’

‘I might have to try making it for myself when I’m home.’ Home. It felt weird to say it, because here at the Wynters it felt so welcoming and warm that sometimes it didn’t feel like she was away at all.

‘Greta was good in the kitchen,’ said Walter. ‘I think Jennie takes after her – not by nature of course, but by nurture.’

‘How did Jennie come to be a part of the Wynter family?’ she asked, but instantly regretted it. ‘I’m sorry, that was personal. I’m not looking to gossip, I promise.’

‘I didn’t for one moment think you were.’ But Walter didn’t tell the full story, he simply said, ‘Over the years, we grew close to Jennie and she became a Wynter in all but name.’

Sophie nodded. The Wynters were like she was – they respected boundaries, they didn’t seem to want to make life hard for anyone without a squeaky-clean past.

Walter set down his glass of water. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you, Sophie. Would you like to join us on Christmas Day?’

Just like that, he was inviting her to what was to some a sacred day for family only.

She looked at Walter then at Nick. ‘I don’t want to intrude.’

‘You wouldn’t be,’ said Nick.

She had to ask. ‘What about Jennie?’

‘You leave her to me,’ said Nick with a grin.

‘Then that’s settled,’ said Walter with a wide smile. ‘It’ll be five of us for Christmas – Jennie has invited Elliot and he’s a yes. Greta would’ve approved of you joining us you know, Sophie. And I get the feeling Bea would have too.’

A family Christmas. It felt too good to be true. ‘What should I bring?’

‘No need to bring anything,’ said Walter.

‘I can’t come empty-handed.’

‘You can,’ replied Nick. ‘There’s already enough food on order for ten, never mind five.’

‘All you need to bring is yourself.’ Walter chatted away about the feast they’d have on the big day and Sophie melted into the feeling of acceptance that wrapped around her.

When it was time to leave she took Nick up on the offer of a lift home.

‘It’s a shame Jennie didn’t make it,’ said Nick. She’d called again when they were eating and it sounded as though she had genuinely been caught up at the hotel rather than doing what she could to avoid Sophie.

‘Are you sure she’ll be all right with me coming for Christmas? It’s a big day, one for family.’

‘She’ll be fine with it. If Walter’s happy, Jennie will be too.’

Sophie wasn’t so sure but at least Walter and Nick were happy with the arrangement.

Once they were on their way she looked across at him in the driver’s seat. ‘I’m really sorry I asked about Jennie’s background earlier. It’s really none of my business.’

‘Don’t apologise. Dad and I didn’t think you were gossiping.

’ He slowed for a pedestrian who’d stepped into the road without looking their way.

Maybe they were from England or another country where they drove on the left-hand side.

‘Jennie has a past – don’t we all? – but over the years she’s become like a sister to me.

And she’s very protective over Dad as you might have guessed. ’

‘I did get that vibe.’ She laughed gently.

‘She’s worried about losing him after we lost Mum. I can’t blame her, I’m the same.’

Nick was just as Greta had always claimed in her letters – dashing, kind and easy to talk to.

No wonder he’d once made the most eligible bachelor of the year.

She couldn’t remember for what now, whether it was for a magazine or the hotel industry.

But she could certainly see how. He was well-dressed, tall and looked like he was no stranger to a gym.

He wore a suit so well he looked like he was born to do it.

Mind you, he looked pretty good in jeans and a jumper too.

He stopped at a traffic light and a tram passed in the opposite direction. ‘Where are your family this year?’

She turned in her seat because he was looking at her; she couldn’t just stare ahead at the traffic and lights of the city. ‘My dad was never really in the picture and my mum passed away a few years ago.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He drove on, the satnav directing him to the postcode of her accommodation.

‘I have a son, Hayden.’

‘Yeah? How old?’

‘He’s twenty-one.’

He smiled. ‘Same as my son, Henry. He lives in Los Angeles with his mum.’

‘Hayden lives with me on and off, when he’s not at university.’ The lights of other cars flashed by in the opposite direction. ‘I imagine it’s hard having your son living so far away?’

‘I don’t see him as much as I’d like, but we have a good relationship, even across oceans.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Where is your son this year?’

‘He’s in America for twelve months as part of his degree. He’s having a ball. He’s the sort of son who would drop everything if he thought I’d be on my own, but he knows I’ve come to Vienna so hopefully he won’t worry. He shouldn’t do that anyway, it should be the other way round.’

‘He sounds like a good kid.’

‘He really is.’

‘So you usually work over Christmas?’

‘Since Hayden got older and had more of a social life I would go in for some shifts. We usually had a few days together, some evenings, but he doesn’t need me the way he did when he was little.’

He stopped at a crossing. ‘You don’t mind working some of the time over Christmas?’

‘No. A lot of residents in care homes don’t have much family – sometimes distance separates them, or they’re simply alone with nobody around. I do what I can to make it easier for them.’

He pulled away once the last pedestrian was safely on the other side of the road. ‘My mother and Bea were obsessed with the idea of getting you to Vienna.’

‘They were a bit, weren’t they?’

He looked at her briefly but not for long as the street they were on had parked cars on either side. ‘They talked about it often in their letters. I heard Dad talking about you too, how wonderful it would be to have you here. He seems pretty happy in your company.’

‘I’m glad.’ She pointed ahead; they’d almost reached her apartment hotel situated on the left. ‘Pull in here, it’s close enough.’

When he parked up she thanked him again for bringing her back. She opened the door, letting in an icy blast. ‘Easy to forget how cold it is! I miss the fireplace already.’

Before she could close the door he said, ‘Dad is really happy that you’re helping with the comfort teddies. He’s tried to rope me in, but…’ He shrugged and there was that killer smile again.

‘You don’t see yourself as a knitter?’

‘I’d be useless at it.’

She shook her head, smiled. ‘Goodbye, Nick.’

‘Don’t be a stranger,’ he said before she closed the passenger door and gave him a wave.

A stranger. That’s what she was, really, but perhaps this Christmas she was starting to feel that she was a little bit more to the Wynters.

Between stepping in to take Walter to an appointment, making the comfort teddies and sharing a meal with Walter and Nick, perhaps this year she would finally feel that sense of belonging she’d yearned for.

Hayden was her family – of course he was – but he had to be allowed to spread his wings.

She just wanted to feel she had something left when he did. And this year, she’d found that with the Wynters.