“Have that instead,” Mum replied. “It’s raspberry leaf tea and far better for you.”
As Mum turned, I saw her wink at my father, who shook his head in response.
Oh, Lordy, I thought, realising Vee had been right in her concerns. Mum was going to try and induce her into labour. “I’ll take that,” I said, in response. Stepping forward, I retrieved the tea from my sister. I gave her my glass, before grabbing another from the tray Dad had put to one side.
“Holly,” Mum said, dismayed by my action. “We have to think of JC.”
Which was exactly what I was doing.
“Mum, please don’t call my baby that,” Vee said. “No matter how many times you say it, I’m still not giving birth to the Second Coming.”
Mum rolled her eyes. “If you’re not going to drink your tea, at least let me get you some orange juice instead.” She disappeared into the kitchen before returning to swap Vee’s glass for a second time.
“To not just Christmas,” my Dad said, at last able to finish his toast. He smiled as he looked my way. “But also to Holly and Fin.”
Seeing the happiness on everyone’s face’s, I felt like a fraud.
“To Christmas,” they all said. “And to Holly and Fin.”
As everyone put their glasses to their mouths, Vee suddenly began to splutter. “What is this?” she asked, horrified.
“Like I said, fresh orange juice,” Mum replied, as if wondering what the fuss was about.
I took the drink from Vee and sipped on its contents. “Undiluted orange juice, you mean. There’s nothing fresh about it; it’s cordial.”
While Vee glared, Mum clearly feigned innocence. “I’m sorry, love. I must have picked up the wrong carton the other day when I was out shopping. They all look so similar. I forgot to take my glasses with me, you see, and as you all know, I’m blind as a bat without them.”
I rolled my eyes, while Mitch clamped down on his jaw to stop himself from saying something.
“Now,” Mum said, clearly knowing when to beat a hasty retreat. “If anyone wants me, I’ll be in the kitchen preparing dinner.”
“Don’t be adding any spices to my plate,” Vee said. “I mean it.”
“Would you like some help, Mary?” Fin asked, evidently trying to protect Vee and her baby as much as I was.
Halfway out the door, Mum stopped and turned. Her face lit up as bright as the Christmas tree. “You mean you and me?” she said. “Cooking Christmas lunch? Together?” Her gaze shot towards Dad. “Joseph, did you hear that?”
Dad’s smile grew at the sight of Mum’s obvious delight.
Mum put a hand up to her chest. “I’d be honoured to have you in my kitchen,” she said.
I honestly thought the woman was about to cry.
“No, Mary,” Fin replied. “Iwould be honoured.”
Mum gasped. “Joseph,” she said.
“Yes, love?”
“Get that camera of yours rolling. Photos, videos, I want the lot.”
Fin looked my way, clearly unable to help but chuckle. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
36
With all of us wearing our Christmas cracker crowns, I sat in an armchair off to one side, while Vee, Mitch, Mum and Fin had squeezed onto the sofa. Dad stood in front of them, ready to take his turn at coming up with a film, book, or TV show in their somewhat rowdy game of charades.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join in, Holly?” Mum asked.
