Christmas and Other Things I Hate Page 7

I stole a glance at Helen and felt a rush of warmth in my tummy. I was relieved that she was with me, not just because it meant I knew she was safe but because I felt like I had a buffer between my parents and me and I had a confidante to vent to if it all got a bit much.

  I also worried that I invited more trouble to the situation by bringing a relative stranger - who I may or may not have sudden onset romantic feelings for - to dinner. But this was the risk I was willing to take to make sure she was ok, and to keep me sane.

  “Can we stop along the beach?” she asked, “I haven’t been to a proper seaside in such a long time.”

  We were already later than I’d normally arrive and my parents were probably calling my phone to find out where I was, but I doubted a few minutes at the beach would matter at this stage.

  I pulled over and put on my coat before I faced the bitter wind that was always blowing along the coast, no matter what time of year it was.

  “It’s so pretty here,” she said, “If I lived close-by I don’t think I would ever leave.”

  The tide was in, so we couldn’t go for a walk on the stretch of beach I’d parked beside, but it was still nice to stand and look out at the horizon.

  Once or twice, my gaze drifted towards Helen. She looked peaceful and happy as she stared at the water and once again I couldn’t quite believe that she was contemplating throwing her life away.

  It was true that you never really know what is going on with someone. Even when they seemed happy and together, they could be fighting a battle you know nothing about. To the outside world, Helen seemed like a happy woman, excited about the holidays and always with a smile on her face, when really she was struggling so much she felt that death was her only way out. How did she do that? It was frightening to think that even the most put-together people could be on the brink of self-destruction.

  All I knew for certain was that I wasn’t going to let her fight this battle alone. Neither of us had to be alone any more.

  I didn’t want to disturb her peace but it was time to make the final drive and get to the farm before they thought I was in a car crash – something my mother constantly worried about.

  Whether I liked it or not, it was time to face my family.

  Chapter 7

  As the car bumped along the stones of the driveway I felt the nerves bubble up in my stomach.

  I knew there was nothing sinister waiting for me inside the house but I also knew that as ever, I would be on edge from the second I saw the pillars at the end of the drive until I viewed them in my rear-view mirror when I left.

  Helen was oblivious to my discomfort at being here. She chatted non-stop about all the Christmas traditions that she and her mother had and how she was curious about what ours were.

  She was especially excited about the games after Christmas dinner, which I thought was weird because it was my least favourite tradition, mostly because it always descended into an argument for which I inevitably got the blame.

  As soon as my lights hit the window at the front of the house the door opened and my mother ran towards the car with outstretched arms.

  “Maybe this was a terrible idea,” I mumbled.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to trigger anything by hugging my mum while yours is gone.”

  “That’s sweet, but unnecessary. I’m already glad to be around people.”

  I parked the car and got out to meet my mum.

  She pulled me into her signature bear hug and didn’t let me go until I mentioned that I couldn’t breathe.

  “Such dramatics,” she said, “If you had more meat on them bones, you’d love my hugs.”

  Helen stood beside the car and seemed to be uncharacteristically shy about making herself known.

  “Who is this?” asked mum.

  “This is my friend Helen, she’s going to be here with me for the next few days.”

  “Hello Helen. You couldn’t have called and let me know there was extra food needed?”

  “Well, no, because I was mugged and got my phone and purse stolen and you always make enough food for twenty people. I thought it was safe to assume there would be enough food.”

  “You were mugged?” she cried, “Jerry! Get out here, your daughter was mugged.”

  My dad appeared from inside the house and went about the exact same welcome routine that I’d just been through with mum.

  “You were mugged?” he said, “Siobhan, Lucas, get out here, Jane was mugged.”

  I held my hands up and told them to all to go back inside so I wouldn’t have to go through all the information in the cold for a third time.

  Helen was barely able to hide her laughter at the scene unfolding in front of her.

  I gestured for her to follow us in so we could warm up properly. There was always a fire lit in the living room and I could already smell the cinnamon candles wafting throughout the house.

  I was tempted to sit down on the deep cushioned sofa, kick off my shoes and sleep for the rest of the evening but there was one thing I had to do first.

  I made my way to the kitchen and was hit with the heat from the oven and the unmistakable smell of honey roast ham. Mum would always start the dinner preparation on Christmas Eve, so there was less of a panic on the day itself – but she ran the risk of us sneakily picking and eating the meat.

  She liked to scold us about it, but I knew that she would always make herself a secret ham sandwich after mass, when she thought we were all asleep. I ignored the temptation to stop and look at the food and opened the back door.

  As soon as the door was opened, I was greeted by two large paws landing on my stomach.

  Our family dog, Ernie, was the one shining light about being back here. He was getting on in years but still managed a little jump to make sure I felt welcome.

  He was a black and white collie with the sweetest disposition I’d ever known.

  Helen appeared behind me and smiled at the reunion.

  “So, you really are a dog person?” she asked.

  “Of course, they’re much better than people.”

  “You forgot to say ‘present company excluded’.”

  “Did I? Funny that,” I said with a small smile, “Ernie, this is Helen, she’s my new friend and she’s spending the next few days with us, isn’t that good?”

  “Few days? Your Christmas wish was for one extra day. That brings us to the 26th.”

  “That’s true, but you’ve failed to take into consideration two things.”

  “And they are?”

  “Ernie’s Christmas wish and the fact that everyone knows St Stephen’s Day dinner is even better than Christmas Day so if you don’t stay, you’ll be missing out.”

  “Nice try,” she replied and turned around to go back inside.

  “Wait!” I shouted.

  “I really don’t want to talk about this, can we go inside so I can meet everyone properly. You just kinda left me standing there with them and went to find the dog.”

  “We don’t have to talk about anything, I’m sorry that I keep bringing it up. I’ll stop, for a while at least.”

  She smiled and I stopped petting Ernie so I could go make proper introductions for Helen.

  We joined the rest of the family in the living room and interrupted them during a hushed conversation.

  “Ernie looks good for an old man,” I said.

  “Maybe if I shoved a dog collar on, perhaps my sister would come home more often,” said Siobhan.

  “What you and Lucas do in the privacy of the bedroom is between you and him.”

  “Jane!” shouted mum, “That’s no way to talk in front of company. I’m sorry, Helen, my daughter is not a depraved pervert.”

  Helen smiled but didn’t bother to formulate a polite reply, she stood back and waited for me to continue my introduction.

  I hugged Siobhan and pointed out that the motorway was capable of taking people to Belfast as well as just me travelling to Cork.

  “How could I possibly do th
at when all my free time is spent organising this wedding? You know, the wedding that you’re the maid of honour for and you have done absolutely nothing to help me with?

  “I didn’t get any feedback from the last four emails I sent you, even though I took pictures of the latest ideas for the mood board.”

  With the mere mention of the words ‘mood board’ I announced that I was getting a drink.

  “What’s that on your car?” asked dad as he looked out the window.

  “Oh, that was my idea,” said Helen, “I thought it would be nice to bring a real tree.”

  “What’s wrong with the tree we have?” asked mum.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you or anything we just happened to be passing by them and thought it would be a nice present.

  “Right, Jerry, you and Lucas go get that other tree off the car and plant it in one of those large flower pots around the side of the house. I’ll shove some lights on it or something. Will that suit you?”

  Helen looked mortified as my mum led the men out of the room and out to the car.

  “What was I thinking?” she hissed, “Who brings a tree to someone’s house and just expects them to put it up. Why didn’t you stop me?”

  “Me? Do you honestly think you would have listened? She’s fine. Tell her it’s a tradition that you had with your mum and get some sympathy.”

  “I’m not doing that, that’s awful.”

  “Fine, but don’t blame me if you only get half a stuffing ball at dinner because of this.”

  I laughed to myself and headed into the kitchen to hunt for wine.

  I heard a lot of cursing coming from outside as my mother shouted confusing instructions to both dad and Lucas. It didn’t take long for dad to have enough and storm into the house in a sulk.

  “What are you looking for?” asked mum as she appeared in the kitchen and made me jump.

  “Just looking for some Christmas spirit, mother dear; by the way don’t go too hard on Helen she doesn’t realise that you’re always this gruff with people and she thinks you’re mad about the tree.”

  “Don’t be silly, I’m not gruff, it’s a lovely tree.”

  “Just play nice, mum, ok? Her mum died last Christmas and she doesn’t talk to her dad so can we just be a bit less ‘us’ and a bit more sensitive?”

  “That poor girl is an orphan and you’ve left her in the sitting room with your grump of a father? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what kind of host are you?”

  She left to find Helen before I could respond and within a few seconds she returned, with Helen in tow.

  “Jane tells me you’re an orphan,” she said.

  “Well, I still have my dad but we’re not close.”

  “So, an orphan.”

  “Erm, ok, yeah I guess I’m maybe, sort of, an orphan.”

  “That’s shocking, it must be so hard to be an orphan – especially at Christmas.”

  “Again, not really an orphan but it’s the first proper one without my mum. I mean, she wasn’t around last year either, but celebrating was the furthest thing from my mind then.”

  “Awful, just awful and you brought us that lovely tree.”

  “About that, I’m really sorry I just thought it would be a nice thing to bring.”

  “And it was,” stressed mum, “Most people bring chocolate but sure lookit, now we have two trees and an orphan.”

  Helen looked panicked as she tried to communicate something to me her eyes but I was too busy trying to open the wine with an ancient cork screw to take much notice.

  “I’ll go get Jerry to sort out that tree properly. We don’t want you to be sad at Christmas, do we? We’ll get your tree sorted.”

  Just as she left the room the cork finally popped and I was one step closer to getting alcohol into my system.

  “Why does your mother keep calling me an orphan?” whispered Helen.

  “I think you should just go with it, she’s got it into her head and really it’s the easier option than correcting her every time.”

  “This is not going how I planned,” she continued, “I’m never this nervous around people, ever.”

  “Yeah, I noticed you’ve got that ‘deer in the headlights’ look about you.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I’m just so unsure of myself and your family are just really…”

  “Loud, abrasive, rough around the edges and overbearing?”

  “I was going to say ‘friendly’ but it’s a weird friendly, like they already expect me to be a part of the family and just understand what I’m meant to do and how to act.

  “You’re different here, too,” she added.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re meaner and more standoffish. I know you’re not a hugger but you could have said a proper ‘hello’ to them before you went to find the dog. It’s like you’ve already decided to be offended by anything they do before they’ve even done it.”

  “What are you talking about? We all hugged and said ‘hi’ in the yard and they’re used to me preferring Ernie’s company.”

  “I’m sure they’re delighted with that.”

  I shrugged took a sip of wine. We heard dad cursing again and the dog barked. I rolled my eyes and decided to investigate what was going on. I handed my glass to Helen and suggested that she have a drink to calm her nerves.

  I walked outside to find my dad playing tug-a-war with Ernie over the tree.

  “Jane!” he shouted, “Get that bloody dog off the tree. He’ll listen to you.”

  I called his name but he continued to pull on his side of the tree while my dad struggled to get a proper grip and get it free from the dog’s mouth.

  Without warning, mum appeared and turned on the hose to splash the dog. It worked and Ernie ran off in the direction of the shed but she also managed to soak both dad and me in the process.

  Post battle, the tree had shed half of its needles and it now looked a bit depressing.

  “Jerry,” she called, “Hurry up and get that tree into the pot before the wee orphan comes out and cries.”

  “Her name is Helen, mum,” I replied.

  “Yes, I know that.”

  She left dad and me trying to wrestle the tree into a big enough pot that stayed upright but eventually we had to accept defeat and lean it, haphazardly up against the wall to stop it from falling. Thankfully this helped to disguise some of the bald patches.

  “That looks shite,” said dad when we stood back to get a better look.

  “Let’s get some lights on the thing; maybe that will make it less pathetic looking.”

  “I hope so, I don’t want it to be the reason the wee girl cries.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh and went back inside to find some lights that would be able to help the tree situation.

  I heard my mum interrogating Helen about her family and I was instantly on high alert.

  I went into the kitchen and told mum that I needed Helen’s help.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “my mum tends to get a bit carried away and turns normal conversations into interviews.”

  “It’s you I’m more concerned about,” she replied, “Your family seem nice but you just seem determined to think they’re awful. So far, all they’ve done is welcome me – a little overzealously – but I like that.

  “I know I’ve only been here for an hour and they seemed convinced that I’m an orphan, no matter how many times I tell them I’m not, but they’re nice people. Maybe if you didn’t run into a different room anytime any of them tried to speak to you then you’d realise that you’ve got it pretty sweet.

  “You’ve no idea how much I miss my mum and would give anything to be sitting with her now and you’re just grumping about here feeling put-upon. Your sister just wants you have some interest in the most important day of her life and instead of saying anything encouraging you headed for the drink cupboard.”

  “I appreciate that you’re going through a tough time here, Helen, but an
hour and a lifetime are not the same thing,” I said, “I cope with things, the way I cope with things and so far I’m handling it a damn sight better than making some stupid plan to kill myself in the vain hope that I’ll end up in heaven. Do you know how ridiculous you sound?

  “Heaven isn’t real, your mum isn’t waiting on you for anything and you are throwing your life away for no bloody reason.”

  As soon as the words came out of my mouth I regretted them.

  “Wow, Jane. By all means, don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel,” she said, “I guess we’re both experts in pointing out what the other person is doing wrong in their life but at least it’s not too late for you to change and make things up with your family.”

  I said nothing as she turned and walked straight out of the house.

  My personal feelings towards Helen and her plan were completely irrelevant to the here and now. I was meant to be helping her and instead I had landed her in the middle of my own emotional baggage and snapped at her when she tried to help.

  My mum came out to see who had closed the door.

  “Where’s Helen going?” she asked.

  “She went out to get some air.”

  “Well, go after her then, she doesn’t know her way around and what if she has a fall or gets hurt.”

  The mere mention of her getting hurt was enough for me to shake myself out of my self-pity and go after her.

  I heard mum call after me but I was already too far away to catch what she said, all that was important was getting to Helen to make sure she was safe.

  By the time I got to the main road I started to panic more and more. I didn’t realise that she had such a large head start and I had no way of knowing which direction she’d gone.

  I ruled out tracking her phone again because the signal was terrible anywhere around the farm, so instead I started to call her name.

  I called out for her over and over until my throat felt hoarse and it was completely dark. I knew I had to get off the road and back to the house. I decided I’d tell my family exactly what was going on with Helen and get them to search for her too.

  I just hoped that I wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 8