It was a strange, unsettling Christmas without Charlie. He was notable in his absence every second of the day. He hadn’t been there with the children to put treats out for Santa and the reindeer, he hadn’t helped her hide the stockings bulging with presents at the foot of their beds, he wasn’t there on Christmas morning sporting his musical tie and festive socks, nor was he there by her side in church. She could feel the rest of the congregation’s stares as they gossiped about her, the space next to her conspicuous in its emptiness.
Her heart went out to Becca. If she dared feel sorry for herself for even one second, she thought of her friend and got a healthy dose of perspective. Charlie might not be with them, but he was still alive. And he was offering Becca some much-needed support. She just wished she could be there with her too. She hadn’t seen Becca since the funeral, having been busy at work before plunging into Christmas activities with the children. When she had suggested meeting up the day before Christmas Eve Becca had been meeting the solicitors to discuss Andrew’s will, and the accountant to go through their finances. There was so much to face, so much to deal with, it must be impossible for Becca to feel as if she was keeping on top of it all. She knew from her messages how grateful Becca was for Charlie’s help. He was never more than a phone call away, offering his advice and trying to take as much of the burden off her shoulders as he could.
Christmas lunch was cooked to absolute perfection by Bertie. They pulled their crackers, laughed at the terrible jokes, and gorged themselves on Christmas pudding and champagne. They opened their gifts in front of the Christmas tree before wrapping up warm and taking the dogs for a long walk. By bedtime the children were absolutely worn out, as was Tasha. When they were down for the night, in matching Christmas onesies from Chloe, she collapsed onto the sofa with her sisters and parents, cradling yet more champagne, and watching the Christmas specials on the television. She missed Charlie with every fibre of her being.
The next morning Charlie came to pick the kids up as planned. ‘Dad!’ they squealed as they raced out to give him a hug.
He spun each of them around crying, ‘Merry Christmas!’ in his best Santa impersonation. ‘Did Santa come?’ he asked. ‘Did you get lots of presents?’
‘We got so many!’ Bella cried.
‘Look at my Spiderman costume. Isn’t it cool?’ Max did an elegant twirl to show off his suit.
‘Very cool. What about you, Flora?’ Charlie asked, his eyes twinkling at the children’s enthusiasm. ‘What was your best present?’
‘A make-up set!’ she replied, sounding very grown up.
‘Make-up!’ Charlie cried in mock horror, raising an eyebrow at Tasha.
‘From Auntie Ella.’ Tasha laughed apologetically. Ella, Chloe, Bertie and Lizzie came out to greet Charlie. She watched as they all wished him a happy Christmas. The usual camaraderie between them had gone, so it was actually quite painfully awkward despite everyone putting on a good show for the children’s sake. Charlie politely refused Lizzie’s offer of a cup of coffee.
‘We’d better set off. Thank you, though,’ he said, opening the car doors for the children to pile in. He had come over in a taxi and was taking the car back with him. She had left Becca, Daisy, Fergus and Charlie’s presents in the boot with the children’s suitcases, carefully wrapped and labelled with cards. He hadn’t given her anything, she noticed, but she didn’t mind. She was still glad that she had made the gesture. Tasha kissed the children goodbye and waved them off, tears stinging her eyes as she watched Charlie turn out of the drive, Max’s nose pressed up against the window as he blew her kisses.