I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,61

handbag. I’m not really a labels person because we’ve never had the money for stuff like that, but I think I should really love one of those one day.’

‘They keep their price. Even second-hand ones are extortionate,’ said Bridge. ‘Some of the vintage ones fetch higher prices than they did when they were new.’

‘A pipe dream for me,’ said Mary with a sigh.

‘Did you notice that Charlie had a Chanel scarf on yesterday? Though he was wearing it as a cravat.’ Bridge squeezed some toothpaste onto her brush.

‘I noticed his cravat but I didn’t realise it was Chanel,’ replied Mary. ‘It suited his image. I bet when he was younger he looked like one of the three musketeers.’

‘They’re a funny couple, aren’t they?’ mused Bridge. ‘I mean Robin runs around after him like a servant. I know there’s a lot of years between them but are they partners or master and slave?’

Mary recalled the comment Bridge had made about hoping Charlie had many more Christmases to come. She’d wondered whether to say anything, torn between breaking a confidence and preventing Bridge from saying something clumsy out of ignorance; decided she should.

‘I should tell you something about them,’ said Mary.

‘What?’ asked Bridge. Mary had her full attention.

‘This is the last Christmas Robin and Charlie are going to spend together. Charlie’s ill.’

‘How ill?’

‘He’s dying.’

‘Really? Oh fuck, oh no, God how awful,’ said Bridge, her voice hushed with shock.

‘I didn’t want you to put your foot in it.’

Bridge looked pensive, then she cringed.

‘Thank you for telling me, Mary. I already did though, didn’t I, wishing he’d have many more happy Christmases to come. Me and my big mouth.’

‘You weren’t to know.’

‘How did you?’

‘When I went to fetch his tablets earlier on. I recognised what they were.’

‘How… how long does he…?’

‘I don’t think he has long. You only get them right at the end. They don’t extend your life, but they help you enjoy what time you have left. Charlie knows I know.’

Bridge felt a rush of sadness hit her from left field. What really did she have to complain about in life when compared with that? Poor lovely Charlie. She would make sure he had every consideration she could give him while they were there.

Mary checked her watch, stirred into action.

‘Anyway, I’d better just nip out, I have something to do. See you in a couple of minutes.’

Bridge smiled. This was absurd, all six of them sneaking downstairs at five-minute intervals just to slip a present into someone’s sock. So why was she brimming with this ridiculous sense of anticipation?

Chapter 20

Mary knelt down by the fire and stuffed the small item into the toe of the sock. She hoped he wouldn’t think it was too ridiculous or cheesy or make him sad, but she was driven by her conviction that this was totally the right present for him. She was the first down. All the socks laid out reminded her of being a little girl at home. They’d had a real fire, just like this one, and her dad would empty a three-pound bag of flour onto the hearth and stamp his big boots in it to make it look as if Santa had stepped there. Mary had the sudden yearning to crawl back into that past when they were together: Mum, Dad, Sean, Maggie, Rob and their collie Barney. But they all had moved on and found a new family nucleus for Christmas Days. Would she ever find hers, so she could look forward with hope, instead of back with longing?

* * *

Perfectly on time, Bridge stole downstairs and over to the fire. She would like to have stayed down here for a while and sat by the dying embers, but she needed to be quick so the next person could come. She didn’t have a real fire in her house but she soon would. She decided that when she got home, she’d have the arty gas fire ripped out and an inglenook fireplace built in its stead. It might be more faff having to clear out ash, but the pleasure would far outweigh the trouble.

As she stuffed her present into the sock, she knew she had the perfect gift for the owner of it. Maybe not the most conventional, but one that she hoped would convince him that the battle lines were trodden into the dust, finally and forever.

* * *

Charlie hurried downstairs as fast as he could, despite having promised Robin he would take it easy. He hadn’t felt this