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“Did you enjoy the Christmas lights last night dear?” Emily asked Sarah as they carried in dishes full of food from the kitchen into the living room in preparation for Christmas lunch.
“I absolutely loved it,” Sarah enthused. “I can’t believe people go to so much trouble every year. Bet it costs some of them an absolute fortune in electricity costs.” Some of the light displays had been very ornate and included hundreds upon hundreds of lights.
“If you can afford to live in those streets in Penwick then you can afford the power,” Don grunted carrying in the roasted turkey. Sarah frowned in confusion.
“Those particular streets are well known for being where the more wealthy people of Penwick live,” Emily explained.
“Oh.” Surveying the table that was now laden with all the dishes for lunch Sarah gaped. A roast turkey and baked ham featured at the head of the table. A platter with stuffing and green beans sat nearby. Roast pumpkin, roast potatoes, corn, Brussels sprouts and carrots sat in various dishes ready to serve. A gravy boat filled with some of the richest looking gravy Sarah had ever seen sat alongside the lunch offerings. “I can’t believe how much trouble you’ve gone to for the four of us.”
“When it comes to Christmas my Em doesn’t know the meaning of restraint,” Don chuckled with a fond look at his wife.
“True,” Emily admitted happily. “Where’s our James? He should have been here by now. He’s always on time for Christmas lunch.”
When Sarah had first arrived at Emily and Don’s home she had been surprised to discover that Jamie wasn’t home. Emily had explained to her that Jamie had cultivated his own Christmas tradition as an adult over the last few years but without fail always made it home for lunch at two o’clock. When Sarah had asked about the tradition Emily had evaded the question stating that it was Jamie’s tradition and that she should ask him about it when he arrived. All she would tell her was that he had been doing it ever since the mine had closed down.
“What kind of wine do you want with lunch? Red or white?” Don asked.
“White would be lovely,” Sarah replied. “We’re not going to start without Jamie are we?” she asked concerned.
“You watch, he’ll be here any second. That boy has a nose like a greyhound,” Don assured her.
As if on cue Sarah heard the front door of Emily and Don’s home open. A few moments later Jamie entered the dining room offering his apologies.
“Sorry I’m late,” he apologised. “There was a guy with a flat tyre out on Parson’s Road I stopped to help.” Leaning over he embraced his mother in a warm hug offering her a murmured ‘Merry Christmas’ to her before kissing her on the cheek and then doing the same to his father. Turning to Sarah he opened his arms to her. Stepping into them willingly Sarah felt the warm heat from Jamie’s body as he held her close against him.
“Merry Christmas,” Sarah offered as he held her.
“You too,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath tickling her ear.
“Told you, nose like a greyhound. Let’s eat.” Don announced.
Releasing Sarah from his embrace they took their places at the table. Don and Emily sat one side with Jamie and Sarah sitting opposite them. As Don held out his hands to take those of the people next to him they all linked hands to give thanks for the food in front of them. Soon plates were being piled high as Don carved his way through the turkey and served each of them in turn.
“Brussels sprouts again Mum?” Jamie groaned. “No one on Earth likes Brussels sprouts. And I didn’t even grow these.”
“You don’t like them? Seriously? They’re my favourite vegetable,” Sarah declared.
“See? Even Sarah is being polite and pretending,” Jamie declared.
“I don’t think she’s pretending son,” Don pointed out as Sarah speared one of the small round vegetables and popped it into her mouth with joy.
“Right that’s it, you and I can’t be friends anymore,” Jamie joked gently nudging her in the shoulder.
Sarah shook her head in bewilderment. “I can’t believe I’m sitting next to a vegetable grower who doesn’t even like sprouts. These are awesome. What’s the dressing you’ve put on these Emily?”
“It’s a bacon and onion mix,” Emily replied.
“Really makes them pop with flavour,” Sarah complimented her causing Emily to smile. Turning she addressed Jamie. “You really should try one of these. They’re pretty awesome.”
Jamie curled his lip at the thought of eating the green vegetable. “Pass.”
“So why were you late?”
“I wasn’t late. I was on time.”
“He always is when it comes to food,” Emily interjected.
“Come on then, where were you? Your parents mentioned you have some tradition that you do on Christmas morning every year.”
Jamie looked across at his parents in surprise. “They told you?”
“Not what you were doing. Just that you have some Christmas tradition you’ve done ever since the mine closed down.”
“Don’t be shy, son. Tell the woman,” Don encouraged.
“It’s nothing special. I just do a delivery of the vegetables I grow to a few families,” he answered as he put a forkful of his lunch into his mouth and began chewing.
“Come on son, tell the woman the truth,” Don cajoled.
Jamie gave his father a plaintive look. “I did.”
“Hardly.” Jamie’s father matched the look that his son was giving him and returned it. Sarah had to smile at the sight. It was clear from the look that they gave each other than they loved one another dearly. Sarah watched as the men continued to give each other the look, wondering who would break first. It was Jamie, who couldn’t help but smirk at his father after a short while.
“James is being modest. He delivers vegetables to all the families from the mine that still haven’t found work,” Emily informed Sarah proudly.
“Really? You do that?” Sarah asked in wonderment to Jamie.
“It’s just a bit of veg, it’s not a big deal really,” Jamie answered modestly.
“It is to them,” Emily declared. “He does it anonymously.”
“Anonymously? Why?” Sarah couldn’t understand why Jamie wouldn’t be willing to let people know that he was the one helping them.
Jamie put down his fork before picking up the bottle of white wine. Pouring himself a glass he took a sip before answering. “People around here are proud. If they knew it was charity they wouldn’t accept it. But if it’s on their doorstep with a note saying ‘Merry Christmas’ or whatever then they have no one to give it back to. They have to accept it or it goes to waste and people around here won’t do that.”
“How many families do you do this for?” Sarah asked curious.
“A few. Five maybe,” Jamie shrugged as he picked up his cutlery again and got stuck into cutting a slice of turkey that was on his plate.
“Rubbish. I remember helping you sort it all out into bundles the first year. There was far more than five,” Emily reminded him. “Tell her the truth.”
Jamie sighed and slumped back against his chair. “You’re not going to stop until I tell her everything are you?” he asked looking at his parents.
The look of pride that shone from their faces was all the answer that Jamie needed. “I guess not then,” he mumbled. Picking up his napkin from his lap he wiped his mouth and placed it on the table next to his plate. Templing his fingers together he took a deep breath before he divulged the story to Sarah.
“Remember months ago how you told me that Betty had mentioned to you that I had been looking at doing an organic vegetable business before the mine closed?” Sarah nodded indicating that she remembered. “I was a lot closer than she realised. I’d already been growing, but keeping it small. Giving any produce I grew to people I knew. When the mine closed I was one of the lucky ones. I pretty much walked from one job at the mine straight into the one I’ve got now with Dad at the garage. But lots of people really struggled. There were all sorts of articles in the Franklin Gazette about how churches and charities around Penwick and Kiernon were having a bigger number of people than they usually did coming in asking for donations.
“I felt bad cos I was alright. I’d worked with most of these people. If you asked them how they were they’d tell you they were fine, even when I knew they weren’t. As months went by and people moved after they found work there were still some families who were really struggling. It was getting close to Christmas and the idea of a toy drive came up from some place in Penwick to help out people who were finding it tough. I was visiting a friend who was struggling and we got talking about the toy drive. He complained that toys didn’t pay bills or put food on the table. So I came up with the idea of giving people some of the veg that I grow. It’s not much, just anything I have that’s extra. Mostly it’s root veg, like carrots, potatoes, swede and pumpkin. It all depends on what I’ve got growing at the time.”
“So why do it anonymously?” Sarah asked. “Wouldn’t those people just be happy to have some food for Christmas?”
“Like I said, it’s a pride thing,” Jamie explained. “Plus when I started doing it I didn’t want people to know about the plot. I’d been hoping to turn it into a proper business from a hobby and I pretty much felt like a failure when I couldn’t.”
“So do you still give the bundles of veg to the same families each year?” Sarah asked.
Jamie shook his head. “Nope. In a town this size you usually hear about it when someone scores a job or moves away. Some years it’s ten families, some years it’s more.” Jamie picked up his cutlery and began eating his lunch again.
“Has anyone ever worked it out that it’s you that’s doing it?”
“A few,” he admitted. “But no one’s ever made it public. Had a couple of people come up to me and say thanks on the quiet, but that’s it. I didn’t do it for the thanks, and I don’t want it.”
“Well I think it’s an amazing thing that you’re doing,” Sarah declared. “Next year let me know when you’re getting ready to do it and I’ll make sure that there’s something baked in there for every family as well.”
“Dear that’s lovely of you,” Emily offered.
“Like Jamie said, sometimes people just need an extra hand,” Sarah said, agreeing with his earlier sentiment.
“So what’d you do this morning for Christmas?” Jamie asked Sarah changing the conversation.
“Tristram and I enjoyed a lazy morning in bed. I did some baking and Tristram unwrapped my gift to him.”
“You got your cat a gift?” Don stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth astounded at the notion that a cat would receive a gift. “What did you get him? A tin of tuna?”
Sarah laughed lightly. “He did have tuna for breakfast,” Sarah admitted. “But I gave him a Christmas collar with bells on it. I don’t think he liked it very much. He was grumpy when I put it on him.”
Jamie laughed. “I would have loved to have seen Fuzzball’s face. I’m guessing he would have hated it.”
“He did, the big party pooper. Remind me to show you before I go. I took some photos on my phone but I left it in the pocket of my jacket by the front door.”
“How long is Dawning closed for the holidays Sarah?” Emily inquired.
“Today’s the only day we’re closed. Open again tomorrow to catch the travellers who’ll be passing through.”
“And everything is going okay so far?”
“Better than I could have hoped for. I’ve been rushed off my feet. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my life. My head barely hits the pillow and I fall asleep from being so tired,” she confessed.
“Just be careful not to run yourself into the ground,” warned Emily.
“I will,” Sarah promised in return.
“Right then, who’s ready for dessert?” Emily offered noticing that everyone at the table had finished eating.
“Ugh, not yet. Why don’t we have a bit of a break before we do? Maybe go and open the presents, hey love?” Don suggested to his wife.
Looking over at Jamie who nodded, agreeing with his father while Sarah sat silently, not responding.
This is where I leave I guess. “I don’t want to intrude on a family moment, so I guess I’ll say thank you for the lunch and head off. It really was lovely Emily, thank you so much for inviting me.”
“What on Earth do you think you’re doing trying to leave? We invited you for the day and part of that is when we open the gifts. Stay. You haven’t even had dessert yet,” Emily implored Sarah.
“No, it wouldn’t be right. I had just assumed you would have opened them this morning and that I wouldn’t be in the way.”
“In the way? What a load of tosh,” Emily waved her hands in the air as if swatting away Sarah’s excuse. “We haven’t opened the presents in the morning since James and Andrew first moved out of home years ago. You’re staying.” With that said Emily turned from the small group and walked in the direction of the living room.
Jamie leaned into Sarah. “Just go with it. When Mum gets an idea under her skin like this you don’t have a chance.”
“He’s right, love. Even I don’t bother trying to change Em’s mind when she gets like that.” Rising from the table he followed his wife into the living room leaving Sarah and Jamie alone in the dining room.
“At least help me put these things away,” Sarah said indicating to the table. “Your mother did all the hard work cooking, it’s the least we can do.”
Soon the table was clear and they joined Don and Emily in the living room. Bringing a bottle of wine in with him Jamie quickly whipped around the room refilling people’s glasses. Settling on the same couch that she had the previous evening Sarah smiled as Jamie passed his mother a large wrapped gift. Stripping the paper away Emily oohed and aahed at the lamp that he’d bought her.
It was Emily turn to give Jamie his gift. Jamie looked at the thin wrapped package in puzzlement. Unwrapping the gift he frowned before looking across at his mother. “Well this is a shit present,” he declared straight faced.
“Jamie!” Sarah admonished him loudly horrified that he would react that way to any gift.
“I’m glad you think so dear,” Emily calmly replied back to her son.
Getting off the couch he walked over and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Mum,” he murmured before returning to the couch. Without a word he handed the gift he’d unwrapped to Sarah to look at.
It took Sarah a moment to comprehend what she was actually looking at. It was a brochure for a charity that worked in Africa together with a short note that thanked Emily for the donation. According to the note the money that had been provided would enable the charity to build several toilets in different villages.
“They’re building toilets,” Sarah read.
“Which makes it a shit gift. Get it?” Jamie chortled at his own joke. “Shit gift? Toilets? It’s a good one, right?”
“You’ll have to forgive him dear. There are some days I wonder if I dropped him on his head as a child with his sense of humour,” Emily informed Sarah wickedly while she smiled at her son.
Picking up another gift from under the tree Emily passed it to Don. Sarah sat back and watched them each unwrap their gifts with fascination. The jokes they shared as a family were genial, and they weren’t afraid to poke fun at one another. As they each in turn opened a gift that they gave the other – including another gift from Emily to Jamie that wasn’t toilets - Sarah was amazed at how included she felt even with this moment with the Preston family. They don’t know me. Not at all, yet they were willing to welcome me into their home. I don’t deserve this. As her contemplative moment continued Sarah was stunned as Jamie selected a wrapped gift from under the tree and passed it to her.
“What’s this?” she asked confused.
“It’s this tradition we like to do at Christmas. It’s called giving a gift,” he winked at Sarah extending the present towards her.
“Thank you.” Sarah accepted the gift feeling rather humbled. She hadn’t brought any gifts with her for them. At least I still have something up my sleeve I can surprise them with.
Lifting off the festive wrapping paper Sarah was left breathless. In a dark mahogany frame was a photograph of the sun rising over water, with cliffs in the foreground. Looking at it carefully Sarah began to recognise landmarks in the image, pointing to the fact that the photograph might have been taken in Mount Kiernon. “A morning’s sunrise does not define itself by last night’s sunset,” she whispered in awe as she studied the image.
“It’s taken from the cliffs in the middle of town,” Jamie explained as he watched her reaction.
“Did you take this?” Sarah asked looking at Jamie. Her eyes were glassy, an echo of the depth of emotion that the photograph had evoked in her.
“Becca did. Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Thank you.” Leaning across the couch to where Jamie sat at the opposite end she closed the gap between them to give him a hug. Squeezing tightly in an attempt to convey her thanks for the gift, she felt Jamie’s arms slide around her waist, holding her into place.
“I’m glad you like it,” he murmured into her ear as he held her close.
Sarah nodded into his shoulder. “I do.” Releasing her arms from around his neck Sarah wiped away a stray tear that had slid down her face.
“Can I see it?” Emily asked as Sarah took her seat back on the couch.
“Of course,” Sarah agreed, handing the photograph across to Jamie’s mother.
As Emily took the photo and leaned across to show it to Don at the same time Sarah looked over to Jamie who she found already looking at her. “Thank you. It really is a beautiful gift.”
“Any idea where you might put it?” he asked.
“I only just got it, give me time to think about it,” Sarah chided gently. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks it should be in Dawning, and part of me wants to put it in my house. I’ll figure it out.”
“It really is lovely dear,” Emily said handing back the photograph. “I didn’t realise Becca was so adept with the camera.”
“Neither did I.” Sarah accepted the gift back and laid it gently down on the floor next to where she was sitting to keep it safe. “Will you excuse me a moment, I’ve left something in my car.”
“Need a hand?” Jamie offered.
“No, I’ll be fine. I won’t be a second,” Sarah assured the small group, getting up and leaving the room.
With a small smile on her face Sarah hurried through the house and out the front door. Gathering the several plastic containers from the back of her car she carefully stacked them one on top of the other before re-entering the house. Bypassing the living room she headed directly for the kitchen.
As quietly as she could Sarah got to work. Pulling from one container several chocolate covered balls that were filled with a peanut butter filling she placed them onto a serving dish she’d brought with her. Opening another container filled with decadent home made chocolate truffles that were covered in cocoa she added a large helping to the serving dish. Two more containers remained, one which held mint truffles coated in a rich dark chocolate and in the other, strawberry truffles. Each was added to the serving plate, Sarah working as quickly and quietly as she could.
“So this is where you are. We thought you must have got lost trying to find your way to your car,” Jamie joked walking into the room. “Mum’s gonna be so grumpy with you,” Jamie pointed out as he saw what was spread out on the counter in front of her.
“Oh shush and boil the kettle before your mother works out what I’m doing.”
“Too late.” Jamie nodded towards the doorway with a grin on his face to where Emily stood watching the pair with amusement.
“Now young lady I thought I told you not to bring anything today, hmm? Wine last night, now all this today. You do so much for other people, it was time to let someone else do something for you,” Emily informed her sternly.
Sarah shrugged sheepishly. “I had to bring something, I was a guest. I can’t show up with nothing, it wouldn’t be right.”
“You’re the guest, you’re not supposed to bring anything,” Emily countered. Covering the few steps between them Emily walked over and gave Sarah a quick tight hug. “But thank you dear, I’m sure this will be lovely. Be a love and boil the kettle please, Jamie dear,” she urged her son. Turning back to Sarah she gave a radiant smile.
“I was planning to have a traditional Christmas pudding for dessert, but this looks so much nicer. Plus I think Don only eats the pudding because it’s put in front of him. If you gave him a choice I think he’d much rather this than a shop bought pudding and – oh. Oh my dear.” Emily started giggling.
Sarah looked at Emily perplexed. In all the time that she had known Jamie’s parents she had yet to hear Emily giggle like a she was a teenager. “Everything alright Emily?” Sarah asked placing the last of the truffles on the serving dish.
Emily gulped a deep breath attempting to calm herself down. When the laughter had subsided a wide smile remained on her face. “Oh yes dear. It’s just that my husband likes to surprise me every Christmas Day with mistletoe somewhere in the house. I’ve just found where he put it this year,” she pointed to a sprig of the green leaf directly above the kettle where Jamie was standing. “He’s a silly old man really, acting like we’re still in our twenties when we first got married some days.” Emily said affectionately of her husband.
“They’ve been doing the mistletoe thing ever since I was born,” Jamie explained to Sarah. “Imagine being seven years old and walking into the room where you parents are full on making out. Scarred me for life.”
“Oh tosh,” Emily admonished her son. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was.”
“Besides, it’s your turn now.”
“Hey?” Jamie was confused.
“You’re under the mistletoe. You know what that means.”
“Come on then Mum, come and lay one on me.” Jamie leaned out and tapped his cheek, offering it to his mother.
“Oh no dear. Sarah is much closer than I am, and you know you have to kiss the closest person, not pick and choose who you want. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it,” Emily giggled again like before as she picked up the dish that Sarah had prepared and walked off in the direction of the living room where Don remained waiting for them.
Sarah laughed as she watched Emily disappear. “Your mother is such a card.”
Alone together in the kitchen Jamie looked at Sarah. “Sorry about that, she can be a bit over the top sometimes. It’s just a silly tradition of theirs,” he apologised.
“It’s fine. Different families have different traditions,” Sarah assured Jamie turning to avoid looking at him. Busying herself with pulling coffee cups off a series of hooks that ran underneath a shelving unit she placed them onto a serving tray before moving alongside Jamie where he stood in front of the kettle to reach for the box of tea bags that sat next to it.
“Tea or coffee?” she asked still refusing to look at him.
“Tea. Mum and Dad’ll have tea as well.”
“I will too. I may as well just make a pot then.”
Sarah knew she was over reacting with her refusal to look at Jamie. Just because he was standing under mistletoe didn’t mean that he was going to kiss her. So what if it is tradition to kiss someone if you’re under the mistletoe. He’s not going to try that with me, he’s with Fiona! It’s just a silly tradition. Sarah shook off her thoughts and plopped several tea bags into the large tea pot. Adding in the hot water from the kettle she placed the lid on to the pot carefully, all the while acutely aware that Jamie hadn’t moved.
He’s still under the mistletoe. I could just turn towards him and I could.... NO! Don’t even think it.
“Sarah,” Jamie’s voice was low and husky. She could feel the heat from his body as he stood near to her as she worked on making the tea.
“Yes?” Sarah kept her eyes fixed on the task in front of her.
“You’re standing under the mistletoe.”
“Oh” Her hands stilled. “Am I?” Slowly she lifted her head to look at him.
He was right. With where she had moved next to him to get to the tea bags the mistletoe was now hanging almost directly over her head. Lifting her gaze to look at the mistletoe Sarah found her heart was beating just a touch faster. Should I kiss him? It wouldn’t hurt would it? No one takes it seriously, do they? As she lowered her gaze from the mistletoe she found that Jamie was looking at her intently. Unable to drag her eyes away from Jamie’s their gaze remained fixed on one another.
“Tell me no,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
“I...” Sarah faltered as all semblance of thought left her mind.
Slowly Jamie lowered his head to hers. As his mouth neared hers Sarah’s heat beat a little faster. The clock in the kitchen ticked loudly heralding the passing of each second. A woodsy scent tickled her nose. He smells so good. The thought skittered through her mind as Jamie’s mouth continued its slow descent to hers. Then ever so slowly Sarah felt the lightest touch of his lips. Fluttering her eyes closed Sarah’s mouth moulded to Jamie’s as he pressed his lips more firmly against hers, testing to see if she would pull away or not.
She didn’t pull away.
Rather Sarah lifted a hand and rested it gently against his cheek, feeling the rasp of his stubble against her palm. Sliding a hand around her waist Jamie nestled his hand against the small of her back before putting slight pressure against her and guiding Sarah a half step closer to him.
It was a short kiss, lasting only three or four seconds, but it was enough for Sarah to feel heat pooling low in her belly. Pulling back from the kiss Jamie stood up straight looking at a point on the wall above Sarah’s head. As he pulled back Sarah’s hand slipped down from where it had rested on his cheek, grazing slightly against his chest before coming to rest at her side.
“It’s just a tradition. It doesn’t mean anything.” Jamie’s voice was the only sound in the kitchen other than the clock as it continued to tick away second by second.
“A tradition,” Sarah echoed hollowly. “You’re right, it doesn’t mean anything.”
But Sarah couldn’t quite shake off the nagging feeling that was tugging at her wishing that perhaps it was just a little bit more.