And then in a weird and ironic twist, totally unexpected and unplanned, a pandemic broke the spell. In a ‘eureka’ kind of moment, or maybe it was an epiphany, when she was at her lowest, Carmen decided that enough was enough.
Her own family had been touched by the curse that was covid. From the worst tragedy of losing a loved one, not being there to say goodbye to her mother or hold her hand in the final moments. Then a postponed wedding, cancelled holidays, the lack of human contact, hugs, conversation with a real-life human. Right down to irrelevances, trivial stuff they missed that suddenly meant so much.
But they had emerged. Still the same family yet Carmen felt altered in, for want of a better word, a spiritual way. More resilient, quietly determined, most definitely eager to embrace a new way of life.
Which was why this year was going to be different. This year Carmen fully intended to laugh in the face of adversity. She dared fate to spoil her plans, knock itself out because she had made lists, checked them more than twice, second-guessed, prepared contingencies and given the Grinch a two-fingered salute.
She had been mentally ticking boxes since October, taking stock and counting blessings. Her three daughters were all happy, settled, waged and, apart from one, in love. Her five grandchildren weren’t a moment of trouble but then again find her a grandma who didn’t think that. She was fortunate and in a position to spoil all of them rottener than ever before – hence a Christmas weekend extravaganza that they would never forget.
Last Christmas, they couldn’t all be together. Rosina had tested positive two days before so all of her family had to isolate. Violetta and her daughter were able to come, as well as Leonora, minus her fiancé who was showing symptoms.
The Appletons had been forced apart at a time when Carmen needed them close. They’d made do with Zoom. Not this year. Nothing and nobody was going to ruin the day for her or her family, least of all her own fears and foibles. Her overactive imagination had been stuffed in a box, padlocked and the key smelted down.
Finally and not before time, Carmen was breaking the cycle that had dogged her for so long and marred fifty-odd Christmases. She had ordered half the farm shop – including two turkeys, just in case one was off like in 2017. There was nothing in the festive food chain that wasn’t stocked in her larder – she’d checked.
And if Boris made a new and unexpected rule, she would pretend she hadn’t heard and smuggle them in across the fields under the cover of darkness. Whatever could go wrong, she’d thought of it and was hell-bent on having a good time. So God help anyone who stood in her way, and quite frankly the mood she was in even the Lord Almighty should watch his step. And if, by some long-awaited miracle, the grown-up Baby Jesus rode in to town on a knackered old donkey, a tsunami washed over the Cheshire Plain or a meteorite landed on Appleton Farm, somehow the show would go on.
Christmas was going to be perfect because at Carmen’s request she would have everyone under her roof. This year, for one special weekend, all her family were coming home.
2
Leonora
Manchester city centre
Present day
Leonora headed towards Joel’s in rush-hour traffic, cursing other drivers but knowing he would wait patiently, all night if necessary. Still, it didn’t rid her of the panicky sensation that made her neck go tight or the flood of irritation that swam through her veins like poison. Due to some total knobhead blocking the junction while he had a row with another knobhead who had cut him up, she was twenty minutes late. Twenty precious minutes with Joel had been lost and it would piss her off all night.
Turning onto Joel’s road she scanned it for a space and was further disheartened to see that the whole row on either side was rammed. The terraces were a stone’s throw away from the Trafford Centre where she was supposed to be shopping. But the car park there was chock-a-block, so shoppers used the residential areas. Sucking in her irritation Leonora drove around the block and willed there to be a space. Three streets later she found a spot and reversed in.
Turning off the engine she sighed and took out her phone and sent a text to Jolene, her imaginary friend from work and Joel’s alias, just in case Caspar, her fiancé from hell scrolled through her phone.
Be there in five. Just parked up.
Then taking a deep breath she made a perfunctory, or more accurately, obligatory call before she left her car. Riddled with anxiety, terrified he’d change his plans and decide to come and meet her, Leonora kept the conversation light and swift.
‘I’ve just arrived at the Trafford Centre. Are you busy? I won’t keep you if you are.’
Caspar’s sigh was loud enough to demonstrate how under pressure he was. ‘You wouldn’t believe how much I need to get done. Seriously, I think I’m the only one who does any work around here. Are you shopping alone or meeting someone?’
The change in pace was swift and she’d expected an interrogation. ‘Like I said in my text earlier, Jolene is going to try and meet up at some point but if not I’ll be fine. I want to try lots of things on and maybe pick up some extra pressies for the kids. I’m starving too, so I’ll grab a bite to eat.’
Leonora had to stick to what she’d already said. And she was glad to have Jolene as an imaginary backup, her social-media phobic friend. Innocent remarks from her friends in conversation, or a casual post on Facebook or a tweet had made him suspicious of all sorts of stupid things and then the questions would start, delving, trying to trip her up. He was sly like that.
‘Sounds boring as hell but at least you’ll get something decent to eat. I’ll have to make do with something on the way home. Are you staying at mine tonight?’
‘No.’ The word escaped rather more quickly than Leonora had intended and she immediately tried to soften the blow. ‘I’m on an early again. I’ll go home so I don’t disturb you. It’s not fair especially as you’ll be tired by the time you leave.’
The sound of another phone ringing in his office brought the conversation to a swift end when Caspar became distracted. ‘Look, I have to go, I’ll text you tomorrow. Happy dress-hunting, oh, and don’t buy anything too revealing like that one you wore for my works party. The last thing I want is everyone gawping at you while we eat Christmas dinner. It was bad enough my boss leching over you. Be good.’
The disconnected tone brought Leonora immense relief. She was still raging inside though. Locking her car she set off, her stride purposeful. At least for the next few hours she was free, supposedly trawling every single dress shop in search of a new outfit for Christmas Day. What really irked was that Caspar still might actually turn up out of the blue.
She could imagine him ringing and his fake-as-fuck voice saying,‘Hey, I’m here. Let’s get something to eat.’So at least her car would be close by and she could say,‘Oh bugger, I’m outside, just leaving.’The ridiculousness of her meticulous planning really pissed her off and so did her freakshow fiancé.
Bullets of hail nipped at her legs and drenched the hood of her parka so she ignored her paranoia, bowed her head and hurried onwards, determined to make up for lost time. She wove between parked cars and then along the path towards Joel’s, niftily sidestepping dawdlers.
Christ, why is everyone so slow?
