Wish Upon A Christmas Cake. Darcie Boleyn

nun or something. If the manor house was haunted, of course. Which it probably wasn’t. And anyway, I don’t believe in ghosts. Or – and this thought was far more pleasant – I could be innocently walking along, wearing my best silky nightie which showed off my curves – but not my lumpy bits – and bump into Sam. Oh, to crash into that wall of chest then be scooped up into those bulging arms. I’d be faint obviously, so he’d have to take me back to my room and give me mouth to mouth as his huge body covered mine and then…

      Nothing. He was married. He had kids. Forget it. Forget him. That was all in the past.

      I eyed the deep white tub longingly. It would be wonderful to fill it with bubbles then sink beneath them. Maybe I could jump in later, or in the morning after breakfast. But I’d better get changed and go down before steam started whistling from Esther’s ears. She’d been reasonable so far but I didn’t want to push my luck.

      I opened my bag and pulled out a black shift dress made of that fabulous crinkle material that you don’t need to iron. I love this dress. It’s so easy to wear because it’s loose and flattering. I rummaged around until I found my black cork wedge espadrilles then dressed quickly.

      There, that would have to do. But what about a bit of make-up? Not much but something to give me a bit of a glow. After all, I was feeling tired and some bronzer and lippie always made me look more human. We did have guests and really I didn’t want to scare them. You know, appear downstairs like Bob Marley in A Christmas Carol. I mean Jacob Marley. Bob Marley appearing would have a completely different effect now, wouldn’t it? More Could You Be Loved than you must change your ways. Although a visitation of the latter kind might make my mother a nicer person.

      I placed my make-up bag on the dressing table and took out my bronzer, then flicked the thick brush over my cheeks. Hmmm. My forehead was a bit shiny, especially the bruise where I’d bumped my head on the steering wheel, so I whisked the brush over that too. And my neck for good measure. A slick of red lip-gloss, a finger comb of my mousey-brown curls and I was done. I smiled at my reflection. Not bad. Not great either but, hey, after a glass of wine, I’d feel more comfortable with myself and Esther’s inevitable critique would drift over my head like wood smoke on the breeze.

      I hoped.

      Well, maybe after two glasses.

      ***

      Descending the stairs, the murmur of voices from the dining room made me smile. It was Christmas and I was lucky. Some people didn’t have anyone in their lives. I shouldn’t be ungrateful. Admittedly, sometimes I’d like to alter my family. Well, my mother. Just a bit. So that it would be easier to spend time with her. But at least I had a family.

       But not a grandmother.

      The thought jabbed me like a blow to my gut and I bent over for a moment as I tried to dispel the pain. It was early days, Granny had been dead for less than two months. I had to allow myself to grieve her passing. But it was so hard. Keeping busy at the shop had helped to keep my mind off things, but I knew that being with my family would mean there was no escape. I would have to face up to the fact that she was gone.

      I took a few deep breaths then headed for the kitchen to check if Mum needed any help but it was empty. My stomach crashed to the parquet flooring. Uh oh! I hurried back through the hallway and through the open door of the dining room.

      The talking stopped. A glass crashed to the floor and shattered. Someone sneezed. I stared at the familiar faces and they stared back at me.

      ‘Katie!’ My mother smiled at me. ‘There you are.’

      I frowned. Where was the expected criticism or reprimand?

      ‘You look lovely, darling.’ I met my Dad’s twinkly eyes and smiled my gratitude. I walked around the table, nodding a very quick hello at everyone then sat next to Karl.

      ‘Hi, Sis.’

      ‘Hey, Karl. Sorry I’m a bit late.’

      ‘Just glad you could make it, Katie. It wouldn’t be the same without you.’ He squeezed my hand and I glanced at him. We were both thinking about how it wouldn’t be the same without Granny but neither of us could vocalize it at that moment.

      ‘This is Angelo, Katie.’ Karl leant backwards so I could see his lover properly and the gorgeous model grinned at me.

      ‘Hello, Katie. I am so pleased to meet you. Karl never stops talking about you.’

      I smiled. ‘It’s wonderful to finally meet you too, Angelo. I hope that my brother hasn’t told you anything I should worry about.’

      He laughed and waved at me. ‘Not at all. He tells me how sweet and kind you are and how you work too hard but never anything bad. Karl adores his baby sister.’

      I flushed with pleasure. I really did love my brother a lot too.

      ‘I wanted to tell you also that I am very sorry for the loss of your grandmother.’

      I flinched and Karl took hold of my hand again. ‘Thank you, Angelo.’ I ground my teeth together. I had to stay strong. I couldn’t lose it in front of everyone.

      ‘I was unable to make the funeral because my own grandmother is unwell. But I wanted you to know that I am sorry. Karl said that you were particularly close to her.’

      I glanced at Karl and he nodded. I straightened in my chair and swallowed hard. ‘How is your grandmother now, Angelo?’

      ‘A battle-axe is the expression I think you Brits might use. She’s a tough old Italian lady and she will, I suspect, survive us all.’ He smiled and his whole face lit up. There was kindness in his gaze and I saw instantly why Karl loved him. Plus he was being very open considering that this was our first meeting and very honest. That would be a good thing for Karl. He needed a man with integrity and a big heart to love him.

      As Angelo turned to talk to Sam, I said to Karl, ‘Is he always that forthright?’

      ‘Always. He’s incredibly open, not like us English with our stiff upper lips. He wants to talk everything through and to find a solution that offers peace of mind.’

      ‘That must be nice,’ I replied, watching Karl’s face carefully.

      ‘Yes. It is, although it can be difficult when I just want to bury my head in the sand.’ He winked at me.

      ‘He’s lovely.’

      ‘I know.’

      As Dad carved then dished out the chicken and potatoes, I took the opportunity to look around the table properly. There was Mum and Dad, Karl, Angelo, Aunty Gina and her Turkish boyfriend, Aunty Gina’s daughter Rebecca and…Sam. Big, brawny, handsome Sam. He was engaged in conversation with Angelo but he glanced up every now and then to check on the two small children to his right – a boy of about eight or nine and a little girl who looked about four. Both were his mirror image, but cuter and younger, of course. As I gazed at them, an old emotion swept through me and tugged at my heart. This wasn’t going to be easy.

      There was no woman. I scanned the table again. Where was his wife? Had she feigned a headache and declined dinner? Had she excused herself to powder her nose? A pang of jealousy stung me and I shivered. Even after all this time, it was hard to accept that Sam had another woman, a wife no less, and that they had children. Children that could have been mine.

      ‘So what do you think, Katie?’

      ‘Sorry, Karl?’ I met his curious eyes as he placed a hand on my arm.

      ‘About going into town tomorrow. I have a few last-minute things that I need to get.’

      ‘Yes, great idea.’

      I was about to ask him where Sam’s wife was but a clinking sound stopped everyone suddenly and all eyes turned to the head of the table where my Dad stood.

      ‘I’d just like to say a big thank-you to all of you for coming. Christmas is a special time