Page 4 of So This is Christmas

Bea giggled as if she were a teenager all over again. ‘I’m not sure I could sit in a spa with my friend if neither of us had any clothes on. Where would I look?’

‘I’m not sure I could do it either. I bet they can spot the British a mile off – we’re the ones with our swimming togs still on.’

‘And at my age? Too many saggy bits.’ She closed her eyes, ready for Sophie to continue.

Did I tell you that Jennie has perfected making a Sachertorte ? If I remember rightly your mother’s was the best Sachertorte either of us had ever tasted – I think Jennie’s might just rival it though – not too dry, dense, just the right amount of apricot jam.

‘What exactly is Sachertorte , Bea?’

‘Oh, it’s simply wonderful. It’s a famous Austrian cake made with chocolate sponge, apricot jam and glossy icing. You should try some one day. It only tastes good in Vienna though.’ She opened one eye to spy on Sophie’s reaction.

‘You think I’ll go to Vienna just for cake?’

‘I would.’ She closed her eyes again and Sophie continued to read.

We count our blessings every day that Jennie came into our lives – although not just because of her Sachertorte , you understand. She’s doing well at the hotel, enjoying her role as head housekeeper. She seems born for it.

Nick turned forty-six this year which makes Walter and me feel very old, and as the general manager for the Wynter Hotel he works too hard.

Walter and I are always telling him to slow down a bit.

I think he has a plan to make some changes for when he turns fifty but right now he’s very focused.

We’d love him to meet someone but since his divorce he hasn’t found anyone special.

Our grandson Henry turned twenty-one this year, can you believe it?

He’s full of energy, much like Nick was at that age, although he doesn’t plan to start work until he’s done some travelling.

He’s still living in Los Angeles with his mother so we’re hoping that any travel plans involve Vienna.

I know Nick would very much like that too.

Henry was here a couple of Christmases ago and he and Nick rode the Wiener Riesenrad – do you remember the first time we went on it, Bea?

We were up so high, you and me, two nineteen-year-olds with the whole city spread out before us.

I tried to persuade Walter to go up on it with me again last winter but he was having none of it.

Shame – it’s incredibly magical, and I feel we are missing out.

We are still knitting the comfort teddies for the hospital. Thinking of the joy we might bring to a child keeps those knitting needles clicking away! I’ve included a picture of just three, but we’ve quite the collection already.

Please do accept our very warmest wishes, Sophie – I know you will be reading this to my darling Bea.

Please also remember our offer still stands – you’re very welcome to visit us in Vienna.

There’s a great big world out there so don’t make your life all about work – something we keep telling our Nick, not that he’ll listen – and you should make time for yourself too.

Until next time,

Sending much love across the miles,

Greta x

When Sophie reached the end of the Christmas letter, she passed it to Bea for closer inspection. Bea picked up the magnifying glass to examine the photographs closely. ‘Those bears are a treat, aren’t they?’

‘They certainly are.’

‘Greta and Walter make more every year, usually a hundred or so. They deliver them to the hospital in time for Christmas. Can you imagine the time and dedication it must take?’

‘It’s very kind, what they’re doing.’ Sophie had a surprise for Bea on that front because she’d made one at home and intended to show it to her once she’d added its stuffing and stitched it up.

She’d pop a photograph of it in the letter for the Wynters and explain to Walter and Greta that they had inspired her to make them too.

Children often visited the lodge and it wasn’t always easy for them, so Sophie thought she might start up an initiative here and they could hand the teddies out.

That or perhaps she’d donate to the local hospital or fire station.

She almost laughed at herself – she’d made one .

Singular. She’d have to put a bit more effort in if she was going to help in the way the Wynters obviously did.

‘They started making them after Nick was hurt and had to go to hospital.’

Sophie smiled and nodded. If Bea wanted to tell the story again, that was fine.

Bea repeated herself often, more so lately, but Sophie didn’t mind.

Part of her duty – as well as ensuring medication was taken, that residents were showered and dressed, looked after physically, and were safe – was to listen.

Sophie was happy to go with it, however many times Bea wanted to talk about things repeatedly.

Bea’s fingers went to her necklace when she put the letter and the magnifying glass down once she was finished. ‘Can you believe we’ve been sending a Christmas letter to each other for more than sixty years?’

‘I know. It’s amazing you’ve both kept it up.’

‘We’ve been doing them ever since we found ourselves laughing at a family letter my mother received when we were teenagers.

It was called a newsletter rather than a letter, and was supposed to be an update on the lives of a family friend for that year.

Oh, it was rather embellished and boastful, the whole newsletter felt like they were giving themselves a huge pat on the back.

Greta and I had a good old laugh at it but then we realised that it was actually quite a wonderful thing to do.

How nice to think that even with the busiest of lives, separations across the miles, a simple once-a-year catch up between relatives or acquaintances might just be a way to stay on course and in touch.

That’s when we decided to start our own tradition.

I still have all of her letters, you know. ’

‘And she has yours.’

Bea looked across at Sophie rather than out of the window, her fingers still on the puzzle-piece pendant. ‘How do you know that?’

‘You asked her in your last letter and she wrote back to say that she had them all stored away.’

‘That’s right, I’d forgotten.’ She smiled. ‘Did you know that Greta and Walter met in Vienna at the Christmas markets?’

‘How incredibly romantic.’ Sophie knew this fact already too but she loved hearing about it. She almost felt transported to the magical city, all lit up for Christmas, two strangers meeting and falling in love. It was the stuff of fairy tales.

‘The markets are an age-old tradition,’ Bea continued.

‘Walter was at one of the stalls trying to choose a sculpted candle for his mother. He and Greta put their hands on the same one at the same time and that was it. It was like magic. I saw their love unfold right in front of me, the way they looked at each other, the way they couldn’t stop looking at each other.

It was the first time I’d seen Greta lose her usual confidence.

She could barely speak, she was so tongue-tied. ’

Sophie laughed. ‘It’s a good sign when someone makes you nervous – it shows there’s a lot to gain.’

‘And a lot to lose,’ Bea added.

‘Exactly.’

Sophie knew that Bea had lost her beloved husband, Anthony, and Sophie had shared with Bea her own biggest heartbreak.

Martin, the love of her life and the father of her child, had died when Hayden was only sixteen months old, leaving her a widow at the age of just twenty-one.

Bea also knew a few other things about Sophie thanks to her past showing up in the car park one day, and the secret had pulled them even closer.

‘Walter and Greta wasted no time,’ Bea went on.

‘They were so in love, and it wasn’t long before Greta moved to London to be with him.

Walter was taking the hotel industry by storm from what Greta told me and he soon got her involved.

It was Greta’s adventures that ignited my own desire to spread my wings.

I’m glad I did – if I’d stayed in Vienna I might never have met my darling Anthony. ’

Sophie let Bea recall another story she already knew.

Bea had gone to London ‘under her own steam’ as she put it and found work as a nanny for a well-to-do family.

With Greta and Walter working so hard in the hotel industry having moved up to North Yorkshire to run a guest house, and Bea off with the family she worked for travelling throughout the country, it was hard to see her friend very much but they managed the odd occasion.

Bea had had four children under her care and by the sounds of it the family were lovely, polite, paid her well, but didn’t show a whole lot of affection to those kids.

Bea often said she treated them like they were her own children.

She met Anthony after working with the family for four years.

He was employed as their gardener and one day he brought a big, bright bunch of daffodils to the front door.

Bea assumed they were for the house, but they weren’t, they were for her to put in her room.

That same day he asked her to go out for dinner with him, she accepted, and less than a year later they were married.

‘We’re very alike, Greta and I, and Walter too,’ said Bea. ‘We know how important family is but we also know that family isn’t only something you’re born into, it’s something that can be added to over time. She has the biggest heart, does Greta.’

Sophie covered Bea’s hand with her own, the cold, papery skin always a reminder of the age of her favourite resident. ‘You have a big heart too. Just like your friend.’

‘She means it when she says you’d be welcome to visit.’

‘I know,’ said Sophie.

‘You need to try the Sachertorte .’

‘Of course I do.’

‘So will you go?’

Sophie smiled. ‘Maybe… someday.’

‘That’s no commitment.’

‘I tell you what, I’ll think about it. I promise.’ She adjusted the crocheted blanket across Bea’s lap. ‘Now I’m going to have to go and make sure poor Helena eats some breakfast.’

‘What about my Christmas letter?’

‘I haven’t forgotten. We’ll get it written on my laptop.

I’m sorry I didn’t get to it yesterday.’ She’d tried to – she’d stayed after the end of her shift – but Amber had left for the day and somehow forgotten she was showing a family around.

So it had been down to Sophie to pick up the slack.

Nothing new there. ‘We’ll get it done. We can’t have Greta missing out, can we? ’

The way Bea smiled, Sophie knew how important it was to her that Greta got the Christmas letter, even though Bea wouldn’t say it.

And Sophie would do whatever it took to get it done, no matter Amber’s demands and disapproval.