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I wave again at all of them. ‘And do you not usually bring people home?’ I ask him.
‘Not really.’
‘Plus, only the sisters know that we’re kind of…you know…’
‘More than colleagues and kissing partners?’ I ask him playfully.
‘That’s a convoluted term for it, but yes,’ he smiles to see me laughing. ‘Look, let’s just see how the next two days go. Only my sisters know what happened between us. The rest of them think you’re a work colleague who had nowhere else to be. You can see what I’m all about, take in some Lakeland air and feast, be merry, get cosy by the fire. I’m just glad you’re here,’ he tells me. I look up at him, conscious we’re still being watched because otherwise I’d reach up and give him a peck on the cheek. We take a walk up to the house, and already I’m drawn into how homely and warm it is. On the tiled porch sit rows of wellies but as Leo pushes open the door, you’re hugged by the warmth of the fire in the living room, roaring away. Inside to the lounge, the TV showsThe Sound of Musicagainst the dancing patterns of the Christmas tree lights. I put my bags down, scanning the walls at family photos, on top of the peeling checked wallpaper, a house that is brimming with mementos, life, different conversations that fill the air with laughter. A young child runs past us, hugging Leo’s legs.
‘You’re here!’ she says, and I can’t help by being enamoured that this little person loves Leo so much.
‘Maggie, this is Cassie – my niece,’ he tells me. ‘Gabby’s daughter.’ I see the familiar blue eyes again and smile.
‘How you doing, Cassie?’ I ask her.
‘Can I be your flower girl if you two get married? Mummy said it’s a done deal but I just wanted to be sure.’
Leo’s head swings up and into the kitchen, glaring at a sister who stands in the doorway, her palms to the air. ‘You swine. Who else knows?’ he loud whispers at her.
‘You expected Gabby to keep a secret?’ she replies.
Leo looks down at Cassie’s eyes still beaming up at him. ‘We might not get married.’
I don’t know why those words see a lump forged in my throat. ‘I found out Maggie here has super hairy feet.’
This makes Cassie giggle uncontrollably and the sound is so adorable I’ll forgive the faux insult.
‘It’s true, I sometimes don’t need to wear socks because they’re that hairy,’ I tell her.
‘Get them out!’ she demands.
‘Oh, not now. It’ll confuse the cats,’ Leo tells her. ‘Has Nana put teas on?’
Little Cassie pulls a face. ‘Of course she has. You want to play Scrabble later with me?’
‘You going to cheat again and put back letters you don’t like?’ he asks her.
She doesn’t reply but runs off into the living room as we poke our heads around the kitchen door. It’s a brilliant hive of activity; the windows are steamed up, Christmas music plays out of a crackling radio on the counter, a central table is stacked high with unpeeled vegetables, boxes of stuffing and Christmas napkins.
Sandy sees me and takes a holly patterned cosy off the teapot.
‘How long’s that been stewing?’ Leo asks.
‘Literally minutes,’ she replies. ‘Have a seat. You too, Maggie. I’ve been making mince pies with the littl’uns, just warm out of t’oven.’
Sandy sounds more northern than Leo – there’s a shorthand with her language; but I love the jolly redness in her cheeks, her perfect blonde bob. Her outdoor jacket is now off and reveals a lilac jumper with silver sequin stars. I take off my coat and Ray appears to take it away while I sit down and make myself comfortable. Sandy pushes a Santa mug in front of me and the smile is bright but in a way which makes me think she knows I’ve snogged her youngest son.
‘You really look quite flushed. Do you need to lie down?’ Sandy asks.
I shake my head. ‘I slept a fair bit and I think that’s helped, but thank you,’ I say sipping my tea. ‘That’s a lot of veg?’ I comment, my eyes fixed on the table.
‘Christmas dinner for seventeen, isn’t it?’
‘Seventeen?’ I say, my eyes popping open wide. ‘If I’d known I wouldn’t have imposed myself on you.’
She shakes her head, pouting her lips. ‘Don’t be daft. You are the most welcome. It’s four kids in them numbers who eat like mice. Then it’s you, Leo, me, Ray, Gabs, Claire and their partners, and then Gabby’s in-laws who we always have over, Ray’s brother and his wife and then my mum.’ I’m quite good at maths but I put my fingers out to keep count. ‘Leo, tell her it’s no trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ he says, mimicking his mum, and she hits him playfully on the head before putting a plate of warm mince pies out in front of us. I do not have any trouble in picking one up and stuffing it in my mouth.
