Page 55 of A Merry Little Christmas

‘Oh yes,’ Emily added. ‘And instead of a bunch of flowers, it was a plant you’d pulled up from the garden and trailed soil all through the corridors and up the stairs.’

‘Still, Lavinia was pleased,’ said Merry with a snort. ‘But Maude was so jealous that she didn’t talk to her for a week.’

Emily giggled. ‘I’ve just remembered something funny. Dad, do you remember the face-painting we did?’

Merry watched Ray’s expression for changes, but there didn’t seem to be a response. ‘Tell me the story.’

‘When I was six, I had a set of face paints and wanted to look like a pirate. Dad spent ages doing my face and I looked brilliant. I then asked to do his. He bravely agreed, but all I managed for him was scribbled panda eyes, white blotches on his cheeks and black stripes on his chin. I’m sure he was horrified, but he said he loved it, and I was so pleased. Later, he took me with him to the fish and chip shop; I’d washed my face paint off, but Dad had forgotten about his. He wondered why everyone was laughing at him until he saw his reflection in the glass of the warming cabinets.’

‘Oh no!’ Merry laughed, imagining Freya doing the same thing to Cole. ‘What did he say?’

‘That was the lovely thing,’ said Emily, drying her eyes. ‘He could have been embarrassed or cross, but he told everyone that his daughter had painted his face to look like a pirate and wasn’t she a superb artist. Lots of people congratulated me and I felt so proud. Good old Dad.’

‘Yeah,’ Merry agreed, ‘good old Dad.’ She looked at Ray, his fingers were clenching and unclenching and whereas his face had looked peaceful before, now his features were scrunched up. ‘Dad? Are you OK?’

‘What’s happening?’ Emily said, squinting at the screen.

‘He looks really uncomfortable.’ Merry felt herself go cold with fear. ‘I don’t like this. Maybe the painkillers have worn off.’

Ray’s head thrashed from side to side.

‘It’s OK, Dad,’ said Merry, trying to sound calm.

‘Pull the emergency red cord behind the bed,’ Emily demanded. ‘Get someone in there.’

‘Good idea.’ Merry pushed herself off the chair and tugged on the cord. ‘Come on, come on, come on.’

Ray’s arms went rigid, fingers splayed, and his face was contorted. The soft wheezy breathing had changed to a harsher choking sound. Merry had never felt so afraid and out of her depth in her life.

‘Help!’ she yelled. ‘Someone help!’

‘It’s OK, Dad, we’re getting help, hang on in there,’ Emily pleaded.

‘Where is everyone?’ Merry cried. ‘Why hasn’t someone come to help?’

‘Merry!’ Emily gasped. ‘He looks as if he’s trying to say something.’

Merry leaned over him as best she could and put her ear close to his mouth. ‘What is it, Dad?’

But Ray didn’t speak. Instead, he made a gurgling sound as if there was fluid in his throat. He gave one, two, three more ragged attempts at breathing, and then his face went slack as the last vestige of life ebbed out of him.

Merry patted his cheek. ‘Wake up, come on, Dad, don’t leave us.’

She stared at him in vain, hoping to see a sign of life, but there was nothing. And she knew, she simply knew, he was gone.

She was aware that Emily was crying and needed comforting, but in that moment, she gave herself up to her own sadness, her own loss and the unfairness of finding her father only to lose him again so soon.

The door opened softly and in filed the team from Springwood House to take over. Merry rested her forehead on the edge of her dad’s bed, still holding tightly to his hand, and cried and cried and cried until finally she felt the warm embrace of a familiar shape.

‘Come here, darling,’ said her husband in a whisper.

‘Cole!’ she sobbed. ‘He’s gone. My dad has gone.’

‘I know, baby, I know.’ He took her in his arms and kissed her cheek. ‘I’m here and I love you, it’s OK.’

Merry let herself sink into him, taking comfort from his strength, his love and the steadfast beat of his heart. She heard him send his love to Emily and let her know he’d collect her from the airport while she clung to him and wept.

She cried for the man she’d hardly known and for the baby who’d never know its grandfather and, unexpectedly, for the mother she missed now as keenly as she ever had done as a child. Because, when all was said and done, she realised, family and loved ones and feeling a part of something bigger than yourself was what life was all about. And her family would never be the same again.