Christmas at Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop
Page 73
‘Welcome, welcome,’ she said, ushering them in, kissing them all. ‘Come in, come in.’
Inside, every fireplace was clean and blazing. Angie had bought a ridiculous fake fur bobbly coat in Derby that made her look like a cowering wolf, but she found she had to take it off straight away. Desleigh and Pip brought in mountains of presents from the back of the car. The children were incandescent with excitement, Kelly wearing a pretty red dress with smocking, Shane, amazingly, devoid of his Nintendo (although Rosie had a fair clue what was inside his tiny packages), and Meridian still in her Spiderman pyjamas, although with a large red jumper over the top of them and some tinsel round her neck as a concession to the season.
Mrs Laird fussed forward and collected the champagne they’d brought, and Rosie and Angie exchanged glances of relief that Hetty had kept her word and wasn’t cooking. Lilian turned up too at about the same time, dropped off from the home. Rosie gave her a shrewd look. She was expecting her to be grieving, thoughtful, distracted. Instead, she was as giggly as a puppy. Rosie was worried about her.
In the main sitting room, there were smoked salmon fingers and pâté on toast points and champagne all ready to go, the most comfortable armchair ready for Lilian, and an enormous tree that stretched right to the ceiling. It was beautiful, and Meridian clapped her hands just at the sight of it. Rosie looked around, but of course she’d known straight away. She hadn’t heard from him. He wasn’t here. Presumably whooping it up in London with his fancy friends. And just as well; she’d barely had the energy to drag herself under the shower and pull on an old dress. Two glasses of champagne and she rather thought she’d be out like a light.
‘Now, gifts first or church first?’ said Hetty, and of course the children clamoured for presents, so they were all allowed to open the packages under the tree, whilst Angie took thousands of photographs. Kelly nearly cried at the beauty of her Snow White costume. Meridian shrieked with delight and recognition at the James Bond car and immediately started pulling off her Spiderman pyjamas and demanding a smart suit and tie.
‘It is very good of you to do this,’ said Rosie quietly to Hetty. She guessed it was Hetty’s way of saying sorry, and maybe – the thought choked her – goodbye.
Hetty was watching the children excitedly rip at the paper under the sparkling lights of the tree and her face had a slightly misty look to it.
‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Should do it more often, really. They’re not bad, these little blighters.’
And as Shane mouthed his thank yous to his mother and father – whilst gamely keeping the secret of Santa Claus safe from the little ones – then sat down quietly to start killing space baddies in the corner, and Kelly performed a loud and impromptu rendition of ‘A Whole New World’, and Meridian went patiently round every single person, including the nice jolly catering ladies in the kitchen, explaining that James Bond’s car could shoot rockets, Rosie could only agree. Mr Dog sat on her lap, licking at the smoked salmon. He had forgone hanging out with his cousins for the warmth of the fireside and the prospect of treats.
‘You really are a very fat and lazy dog,’ said Hetty affectionately.
‘He is not,’ said Rosie stiffly, but she was smiling.
‘ALL RIGHT!’ Angie was saying loudly, clapping her hands together. The children all ran in behind her, their faces full of mischief and glee, and slowly joined hands, and Pip and Desleigh joined them, unable to hide their smiles too.
‘For giving us the most wonderful, amazing snowy holiday ever, we have a special gift for our Auntie Rosie.’
‘IT’S —’ started Meridian, but Shane clapped a hand over her mouth before she could go any further.
‘We miss you, precious girl,’ said Angie and kissed her on the cheek.
Rosie stared at the small parcel. Then she opened it up. Inside was an envelope, and inside that, a ticket. Open. For Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. One way.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘But…’
‘Don’t panic,’ said her mum. ‘You can use it as half of a holiday, anything you like, okay? We’re not kidnapping you.’
‘I know,’ said Rosie. ‘I know.’ But she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over down her hand.
Desleigh mistook it for gratitude and put her arm round her.
‘Don’t worry about it, yeah? Pip makes plenty of money, okay?’
‘Um, it’s not that,’ Rosie tried to explain, but she couldn’t get it out right. She didn’t notice Lilian and Hetty exchanging worried looks.
‘I think… I think… Well, I think maybe I will come. Maybe.’
‘YAY!’ shrieked Meridian. ‘AUNTIE ROSIE IS COMING! She’s sleeping in my bed,’ she added.
‘She is not,’ said Kelly. ‘She’s sleeping in the spare room. Everyone knows that.’
‘I think she wants to sleep in my bed, DON’T YOU, Auntie Rosie?’
‘I think I would,’ said Rosie, as the little girls gathered round her and cuddled her and she let the tears flow and pretended it was from happiness after all.
Stephen looked through the car, but there wasn’t anything useful. He cursed himself. What had he been thinking of? He could hear his father’s long-gone domineering voice in his ear once more. ‘Didn’t check the oil? Bally idiot.’ Sighing, he turned up the collar of his overcoat and grasped his cane. The last thing he really wanted to do was to fall down out there. The car thermometer reported that it was two degrees below freezing. That would be ironic, he thought, if he ended up freezing to death on his own bloody land. He checked his phone again. Nothing. Bloody hell.
It was torture getting out of the relative warmth of the car. Strong winds hurled themselves down from the peaks, thrusting flurries of snow into his face and down the back of his coat, which proved, as he had predicted, fine for hopping in and out of cabs in London but nothing like up to the job of seeing him through a snowy Derbyshire hillside; likewise his polished old-man brogues, that Rosie had always found hilarious, weren’t ideal either.
He moved forward carefully but steadily with his stick, feeling like a complete idiot for getting himself into this situation in the first place. Totally his own fault. And the stupidity of it was, it really could be serious. If he slipped out here, fell off the road into a drift…
Inside, every fireplace was clean and blazing. Angie had bought a ridiculous fake fur bobbly coat in Derby that made her look like a cowering wolf, but she found she had to take it off straight away. Desleigh and Pip brought in mountains of presents from the back of the car. The children were incandescent with excitement, Kelly wearing a pretty red dress with smocking, Shane, amazingly, devoid of his Nintendo (although Rosie had a fair clue what was inside his tiny packages), and Meridian still in her Spiderman pyjamas, although with a large red jumper over the top of them and some tinsel round her neck as a concession to the season.
Mrs Laird fussed forward and collected the champagne they’d brought, and Rosie and Angie exchanged glances of relief that Hetty had kept her word and wasn’t cooking. Lilian turned up too at about the same time, dropped off from the home. Rosie gave her a shrewd look. She was expecting her to be grieving, thoughtful, distracted. Instead, she was as giggly as a puppy. Rosie was worried about her.
In the main sitting room, there were smoked salmon fingers and pâté on toast points and champagne all ready to go, the most comfortable armchair ready for Lilian, and an enormous tree that stretched right to the ceiling. It was beautiful, and Meridian clapped her hands just at the sight of it. Rosie looked around, but of course she’d known straight away. She hadn’t heard from him. He wasn’t here. Presumably whooping it up in London with his fancy friends. And just as well; she’d barely had the energy to drag herself under the shower and pull on an old dress. Two glasses of champagne and she rather thought she’d be out like a light.
‘Now, gifts first or church first?’ said Hetty, and of course the children clamoured for presents, so they were all allowed to open the packages under the tree, whilst Angie took thousands of photographs. Kelly nearly cried at the beauty of her Snow White costume. Meridian shrieked with delight and recognition at the James Bond car and immediately started pulling off her Spiderman pyjamas and demanding a smart suit and tie.
‘It is very good of you to do this,’ said Rosie quietly to Hetty. She guessed it was Hetty’s way of saying sorry, and maybe – the thought choked her – goodbye.
Hetty was watching the children excitedly rip at the paper under the sparkling lights of the tree and her face had a slightly misty look to it.
‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Should do it more often, really. They’re not bad, these little blighters.’
And as Shane mouthed his thank yous to his mother and father – whilst gamely keeping the secret of Santa Claus safe from the little ones – then sat down quietly to start killing space baddies in the corner, and Kelly performed a loud and impromptu rendition of ‘A Whole New World’, and Meridian went patiently round every single person, including the nice jolly catering ladies in the kitchen, explaining that James Bond’s car could shoot rockets, Rosie could only agree. Mr Dog sat on her lap, licking at the smoked salmon. He had forgone hanging out with his cousins for the warmth of the fireside and the prospect of treats.
‘You really are a very fat and lazy dog,’ said Hetty affectionately.
‘He is not,’ said Rosie stiffly, but she was smiling.
‘ALL RIGHT!’ Angie was saying loudly, clapping her hands together. The children all ran in behind her, their faces full of mischief and glee, and slowly joined hands, and Pip and Desleigh joined them, unable to hide their smiles too.
‘For giving us the most wonderful, amazing snowy holiday ever, we have a special gift for our Auntie Rosie.’
‘IT’S —’ started Meridian, but Shane clapped a hand over her mouth before she could go any further.
‘We miss you, precious girl,’ said Angie and kissed her on the cheek.
Rosie stared at the small parcel. Then she opened it up. Inside was an envelope, and inside that, a ticket. Open. For Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. One way.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘But…’
‘Don’t panic,’ said her mum. ‘You can use it as half of a holiday, anything you like, okay? We’re not kidnapping you.’
‘I know,’ said Rosie. ‘I know.’ But she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over down her hand.
Desleigh mistook it for gratitude and put her arm round her.
‘Don’t worry about it, yeah? Pip makes plenty of money, okay?’
‘Um, it’s not that,’ Rosie tried to explain, but she couldn’t get it out right. She didn’t notice Lilian and Hetty exchanging worried looks.
‘I think… I think… Well, I think maybe I will come. Maybe.’
‘YAY!’ shrieked Meridian. ‘AUNTIE ROSIE IS COMING! She’s sleeping in my bed,’ she added.
‘She is not,’ said Kelly. ‘She’s sleeping in the spare room. Everyone knows that.’
‘I think she wants to sleep in my bed, DON’T YOU, Auntie Rosie?’
‘I think I would,’ said Rosie, as the little girls gathered round her and cuddled her and she let the tears flow and pretended it was from happiness after all.
Stephen looked through the car, but there wasn’t anything useful. He cursed himself. What had he been thinking of? He could hear his father’s long-gone domineering voice in his ear once more. ‘Didn’t check the oil? Bally idiot.’ Sighing, he turned up the collar of his overcoat and grasped his cane. The last thing he really wanted to do was to fall down out there. The car thermometer reported that it was two degrees below freezing. That would be ironic, he thought, if he ended up freezing to death on his own bloody land. He checked his phone again. Nothing. Bloody hell.
It was torture getting out of the relative warmth of the car. Strong winds hurled themselves down from the peaks, thrusting flurries of snow into his face and down the back of his coat, which proved, as he had predicted, fine for hopping in and out of cabs in London but nothing like up to the job of seeing him through a snowy Derbyshire hillside; likewise his polished old-man brogues, that Rosie had always found hilarious, weren’t ideal either.
He moved forward carefully but steadily with his stick, feeling like a complete idiot for getting himself into this situation in the first place. Totally his own fault. And the stupidity of it was, it really could be serious. If he slipped out here, fell off the road into a drift…
