Christmas Wishes at Pudding Hall by Kate Forster

36

Marc worried it was too much for Christa but if he could have tied up the world in a pink ribbon then he would have.

The evening had gone perfectly, with presents given. The boys had given her a Lego set of a bakery to make together.

‘I can’t wait,’ said Christa, clearly meaning it, and Marc saw how happy they were to be around her.

Avian had left without much fuss. At times Marc wondered if they even realised they could have a close relationship with their mother but he knew it was her job to create the connection, not the boys, and he hoped it would happen one day.

Paul had given her a silk pillowcase and sleep mask and Adam had given her a gift box of Jo Malone perfumes.

Peggy, ever practical, gave her a book of traditional Yorkshire recipes that Christa had been very enthusiastic about.

‘There’s more to us than just Yorkshire puddings,’ announced Peggy to the room.

‘No doubt,’ agreed Paul and she smiled at him.

‘He’s the cultured one,’ Marc heard her whisper to Petey.

Petey gave her her own fudge that he had named after her. ‘Christa Pudding,’ he said and she laughed, and opened the bag and took a nibble.

‘Brandy. Lemon.’ She paused. ‘Glacé cherries. Nutmeg. Molasses?’

She looked at Petey who nudged Marc. ‘She’s got a fine set of taste buds on her that one.’

And Marc.

He handed her a small box and she opened it carefully.

‘Oh, Marc, it’s beautiful,’ she whispered, and she took the delicate chain from the box and held it up to admire the charm.

‘It’s a pudding,’ said Marc feeling silly now she was holding it.

‘I know,’ she said holding it to the light.

‘It’s tourmaline and the holly is emeralds and rubies, and the custard or icing, I don’t know what you call it, they’re diamonds,’ he said hurriedly but she was already trying to put it on, not listening to him as he tried to convince her of the credentials of the jewels.

‘I love it so much,’ she said as he took over and fixed the clasp around her neck.

‘It feels so nice against my skin,’ she said and she turned to him to show him. ‘Look how cute it is,’ she said looking down at the charm.

‘You can change it,’ he said. ‘If it’s too childish.’

‘Are you kidding?’ She laughed at him. ‘I love pink and Lego and pudding and you,’ she said and then caught herself and he smiled at her.

‘Sorry, too much,’ she said and pretended to rewind her words. ‘Probably the Love Potion playing tricks on me.’ But he saw her blush and the way she touched the charm and he kissed her cheek before leaning in close to her ear.

‘I love you too, Christa, so much.’

She grabbed his hand and he resisted the urge to carry her upstairs to bed because they still had dinner to go.

There wasn’t a single low point of the night. Christa sat at the head of the table, and they ate their way through a delicious dinner of bruschetta, salmon and lemon risotto, salad, fresh bread and beautiful wine. It was light and fresh and everything he knew Christa loved.

And then the pièce de résistance was brought in.

Marc opened the door and Peggy carefully carried in a large cake covered in pink iced roses and with tapered candles glowing and flickering as Marc started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ and everyone joined in. Christa cried happily as she blew out the candles.

‘Make a wish,’ yelled Ethan.

Marc saw her glance at him and smile as she then cut the cake. Peggy served it and they drank tea and laughed and the boys performed magic tricks they had been teaching themselves from the internet. Finally Marc said it was time for the last part of the night.

‘Come on, everyone,’ he said, standing up and opening the door to the foyer.

The waitstaff were lined up holding coats and everyone slipped into them.

‘This is exciting,’ said Peggy.

‘You do know it’s snowing,’ said Christa as she zipped up the coat.

‘We won’t be out for long,’ he said as he was helping the boys into their coats.

The party stood on the front steps and looked out into the dark night. There was a light dusting of snow on the steps and Marc wondered why he had thought even for a minute he would sell Pudding Hall.

The sound came first and then the sky glowed as the first firework exploded and the party clapped and cheered. The boys yelled as the Catherine wheels and rockets flew through the night sky. The sky glittered with fiery rain and then burst into peony-shaped flowers of pink and red and orange and blue until the last one fired into the sky and the night fell silent again.

‘Happy birthday, Christa,’ he said to her and she turned to him.

He wasn’t sure when everyone had left them alone on the steps, but all he knew was her lips were on his and he had never felt happier than in that moment.

‘You are so beautiful for going to all this effort for me,’ she said when she finally pulled away and Marc held her cold face in his hands.

‘That’s the thing, it’s no effort. I would do this every day if I could but I know you would hate it.’

Christa kissed him and again and shivered.

‘Inside. It’s freezing. And I have to put those kids to bed.’

*

Peggy and Petey said their goodbyes and held Christa close.

‘We are coming back for lunch tomorrow. Marc invited us,’ Peggy said.

‘Who is doing the cooking?’ asked Christa.

‘He has someone apparently, a chef whom he paid huge money to so you don’t have to cook, he said to me.’

Christa waved them goodbye and closed the front door. Adam and Paul had gone to bed and the waitstaff had cleaned up.

She kicked off her shoes and sat on the long sofa in front of the dying fire in the sitting room, watching the coals glow.

It was such a beautiful birthday, she thought. Not because of the excess and largesse but because everyone made themselves available. They didn’t say there would be more presents tomorrow or not to eat too much because there was Christmas lunch the next day. They all made sure she was celebrated and that was enough. She could happily never have a birthday again, as this night would be enough to see her through till she died.

‘You okay?’ she heard Marc ask as he closed the door behind him.

She turned and smiled. ‘I’m more than okay, I’m content,’ she said.

Marc came and sat next to her. ‘I never knew what contentment was until the first night you were here,’ he said.

‘How? You yelled at me twice.’

‘Let’s not talk about what an idiot I was,’ he said, as his thumb rubbed the back of her hand.

‘It was this feeling when we were sitting around the table and laughing, your incredible food was being served, and I thought, “This is as good as it gets”. But now I know there is something better. When you have someone to share it with you.’

Christa rested her head on his shoulder and the clock on the mantel struck midnight.

‘Merry Christmas,’ she said to him and turned to him and kissed him.

‘Merry Christmas, Christa,’ he said and kissed her in return. Suddenly, he stood up. ‘Wait here, I want to give you your present now.’

‘Really? You can’t wait till tomorrow morning?’ she asked, laughing at his eagerness.

He disappeared and then returned with something behind his back.

‘I didn’t wrap it,’ he said as he sat next to her and handed her a plain white envelope.

She turned it over and opened it and then pulled out a sheaf of papers stapled together.

She started to read but couldn’t make head nor tail of it and so looked at him. ‘I don’t understand. This is the pub? The one that sold?’

Marc nodded. ‘I bought it for you for Christmas, so you can create the place you wanted. I know it seems excessive but I spoke to Zane and he said that St William’s Charity can work alongside you and it’s totally doable.’

Christa turned over the page and kept reading. Marc had bought her the pub?

‘Why?’ she looked at him, still confused.

‘Are you angry? Do you think I’ve gone too far?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s your money; you can do what you like with it. No, I wanted to know why you did this for me?’

Marc sat back and thought for a moment.

‘You know I say I help people but all I do is give people money. I don’t know what it’s doing, or even if it’s helping anyone at all. I mean, I funded trees once because I liked gin. It’s not that I don’t get there is need but I have avoided seeing the need close up because of what I saw as a kid.’

Christa listened intently as he spoke. He stared at the fire.

‘I was ashamed and when I see poverty, I freak out. It reminds me I could lose everything and end up back trying to work out how to feed my family. But you showed me what help is and why it matters. You showed up and I realised I need to also.’

She laid the papers on her lap and turned to him.

‘So that’s why?’

But Marc shook his head.

‘No.’ He thought for a moment and finally looked at her. ‘I did it because I believe in you. Because you’re remarkable and you make me want to do better and put more good into the world. Because you make me want to be a better father and ex-husband and because you can help people in a way that is generous and kind; something I need to do more of.’

She put the papers on the table. ‘These are wrong,’ she stated.

‘Why?’ He picked them up and leafed through them.

‘I’m not Christa Playfoot anymore. I’m going back to my maiden name.’

‘Good idea, what is it?’

‘Hartley,’ she said and looked at him. ‘It meant deer clearing in Anglo-Saxon times.’

‘That’s nice, deer,’ he said and she smacked his leg. ‘Terrible pun.’

He laughed and took her hand.

‘Would you change your name again if you remarried?’

‘Probably not,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to the first time but Simon insisted, said it would be best for business. That was a lie.’

‘Just so you know, I wouldn’t expect you to change your name.’

She laughed. ‘Are we getting married?’

‘Most likely,’ he said and he sounded so sure that Christa didn’t doubt him for a minute, nor did she panic. She didn’t know when she’d come to the realisation but she knew Marc and his boys were her future.

‘You bought me the pub for Christmas,’ she said incredulous. ‘You’re going to be really disappointed when you open my present tomorrow.’

‘Oh? What is it?’ His fingers were tracing patterns on her leg now, pulling the pink silk of the skirt up to show some of her thigh. She felt goose bumps on her skin and she shivered a little.

‘A woollen scarf and some fudge,’ she said. She took a moment and then pushed her leg against his hand.

‘But I can let you unwrap me upstairs if you like,’ she teased and saw Marc blush. ‘I might be able to deck your halls as they say.’

Marc jumped up and pulled her up, put his hands around her waist and pulled her to him, close. ‘Oh you’re very punny,’ he said and without another word he led her upstairs.