Christmas at Bay Tree Cottage. Linn Halton B.

       Chapter 8

       Elana

      Santa to the Rescue

      By seven a.m. Luke is already on the roof clambering around. The intention was for Maya to have an early night after several hours of board games yesterday, but we ended up reading quite a few bedtime stories. She went to sleep a little later than usual for a Sunday night. Her last words were that it had been a lovely day and that actually brought a tear to my eye. The cottage doesn’t feel full any more with just the two of us and she obviously feels the same way, but we’d laughed a lot. It had turned into one of those days that you re-live with a smile on your face, as it’s a reminder that life can still be good.

      I pop out to put some rubbish in the bin and pass Rick on the drive.

      ‘Hey, Elana. How’re things?’

      ‘Hey, stranger. Good and I owe you a big thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Eve looking out for me. I hear you’ve been busy.’

      He’s carrying a large pile of files under one arm and a small suitcase in the other.

      ‘It’s not a problem; I’m only sorry it meant more expense for you. I’m off to London again; at this rate it would be easier to rent an apartment up there. The travelling is the worst part, although usually I can work on the train. Today I have to take the car as I’m dropping off files and then heading off to Surrey.’

      ‘Well, just drive safely.’

      We exchange glances and Rick nods in agreement; I didn’t mean to say that, as immediately we both think of Niall.

      ‘Will do and enjoy your week,’ he calls out as I head down to the cottage.

      Today I have to phone Mum about New Year’s Eve, to see whether they will be able to have Maya. I did think of asking Eve first, as she’s having a small family party and it would be great for the two girls to keep each other company. However, I know that it’s a night Mum and Dad rarely go out and they love spending time with Maya. Since Niall passed away there are few reasons for her to go and stay over, so I know they’ll be delighted.

      When I open the post I’m rather surprised to see an envelope with Mum’s writing on it. Slitting it open, it’s a card with a picture of some hand-tied roses on the front of it. Inside is a cheque, folded in half, and the note on the card says:

       This is a Christmas present and you can’t refuse something that’s given with love at this time of year. Mum and Dad xxx

      When I unfold the paper it’s for five thousand pounds. My legs wobble a bit and I sink down onto the dining chair.

      ‘What the … I can’t take this!’ Talking to oneself out loud probably isn’t best with a six-year-old around, so I stuff the handful of post into my filing tray on the desk. I shout up to Maya to clean her teeth and come straight down afterwards, or we will be late for school. Amelie is probably already waiting for us as it’s my turn to do the ferrying this week.

      All the way to school, and back, I can’t stop thinking about the cheque. Yes, I need it, but will my conscience allow me to take it? I have a roof over my head and we don’t go short of anything – all it lacks is a little cosmetics. Is that really enough justification to begin emptying my parents’ little nest egg?

      When your thought processes are churning it’s almost like having two voices in your head. Good cop, bad cop. Okay, that’s not quite right, but it’s how it feels.

       They’re going to be upset if you don’t take it.

       There goes their dream trip to Australia.

       No more concrete dust – a floor you can clean!

       Mum will admit that she wasn’t looking forward to the long flight anyway.

       How selfish are you prepared to be?

      It’s a temptation to just take it and say thank you, but it doesn’t feel right. In the end, when I arrive home I go straight inside and phone Mum. An hour and quite a few tears later, I place the cheque on my desk, ready to take it to the bank this afternoon. Mum is over the moon about having Maya to stay on New Year’s Eve, but I’m still feeling as if I’ve been talked into doing something that will rob them of one of their dreams. I’ve become a liability and somehow I have to turn that around. The time has come to stop making excuses and start grabbing hold of life again.

      I’m going to do such a great job of this biography that lots of new work will come my way and then I’ll repay my parents every single penny. As a rush of enthusiasm rolls over me the door bell chimes, interrupting my determined, ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ moment.

      It’s Luke.

      ‘Sorry to bother you, Elana. The flashing is done and that’s the really noisy bit out of the way, now. I need to use your outside tap to mix up the cement for the chimney, but it appears to have been turned off, so it must have a separate stop valve. Do you mind if I take a look?’

      ‘No problem, help yourself.’

      Luke steps inside and I leave him to forage under the stairs. On his way out he shouts out a quick thanks and I hurry to catch him before he shuts the door.

      ‘When you stop for lunch do you think you could pop in? I’d like to talk to you about some of the outstanding work on the cottage. If you haven’t prepared anything, I could make us some sandwiches.’

      He nods his head. ‘Sure. I have a pasty if you could nuke it in the microwave for me.’

      I can’t help laughing at the thought. ‘No problem. See you in a bit, then.’

      He’s so easy-going that’s it’s hard to understand what could have gone wrong with his relationship. Yes, he’s very young, but he seems mature and level-headed enough. Maybe going through the experience of fatherhood and a break-up has made him that way. I catch sight of myself in the hallway mirror and run a hand through my hair, thinking it’s about time I had it cut. I lean in, noticing that the little crow’s feet around my eyes seem much deeper these days. And I now have an awfully sharp frown line on my forehead that seems to deepen with each week that passes. That’s another awful thing about grief, it ages you.

       Diary Log – day 491. 21 days to Christmas. Must remember not to frown quite so much. Yes, bad things have happened – the worst – but I’m lucky in that I still have people around me to love and who love me unreservedly in return. Time to remember to count my blessings – appreciate what I have, as opposed to what I haven’t … And Santa, thank you! I didn’t realise you could work that fast.