Chapter 36


    Mitch sits in an armchair by the fire, knitting something small and stripy in rose pink, apple green and


    primrose yellow. Tucked down beside her, kinda out-of-sight behind the chair, is a huge canvas bag,


    stuffed tight, balls of green and red wool poking out of the top.


    “What is it?” I ask.


    “A winter hat for Cara,” she smiles.


    “Another one?” says Richard. “How many hats does one baby need?”


    Mitch sucks in her cheeks. “You might be surprised. And besides…” She gestures toward Beth, her


    hands neatly folded over her bulging stomach, with the ends of her knitting needles… “It isn’t just one


    baby is it?”


    Cara, lying in her carrycot, starts crying. Charlotte immediately rises, lifting her out, holding her close,


    rocking gently and murmuring something quiet.


    From somewhere outside, there’s a rumble and a tter, perhaps of a vehicle. Michael makes for the


    window, twitching back a curtain.


    Charlotte rocks the little girl, trying to soothe her back to sleep. “Who is it?”


    “Just a delivery vane to the wrong ce. I’ll just go redirect them back to the hotel. Sally will be


    wanting the kitchen properly stocked.” But his eyes meet with James, then with Richard…


    A smooth lie there…


    upied with Cara, Charlotte doesn’t notice their nce, but the three men make for the door and


    James gives me the smallest of eye-rolls to join them.


    Outside, in the hall, he speaks in a low voice. “Kirstie, do me a favour would you. Keep Charlotte


    upied for a few minutes. There''s something Michael, Richard and I need to do.”


    “Of course I will. You want me to keep her in the lounge?”


    “Upstairs would be better if you can manage it.”


    Back with Beth, Mitch and Charlotte, Cara is still fussing. “Perhaps she’d be better in her bed in the


    nursery,” I suggest. “It’s quieter there and she likes that mobile above her cot.”


    Mitch cranes her neck to the door, then setting the half-finished baby cap to one side, pulls something


    else, muchrger, out of her knitting bag. It flops, shapeless, over herp in holly green and Santa red.


    “You could y some music for her too,” she says. “Have you noticed that she always calms down


    when James ys some of that soft ssical?”


    *****


    Christmas Day


    The heap of gifts stacked under the tree is bright with coloured wrap and ribbons. James waves an arm


    down at the stack. “You’re closest, Michael. You’re in charge.”


    Michael takes a small gilt-wrapped package from the top, checks thebel then offers it out to Beth.


    “For you.”


    Beth peels off foil and ribbons to reveal what is very obviously, a perfume bottle. She opens it, then


    smiles brightly at Richard. “It’s lovely, thank you. The old one has almost run out.”


    Michael is already reading thebel on another gaudy parcel, bulky and soft, in the kind of economy


    wrapping paper you might find in a supermarket or newsagent. “This one’s for you, James.”


    He epts it, raising brows and looking to Charlotte, but she shakes her head. “It’s not from me.”


    He turns over the tag, jagged-edged, perhaps pinked from an old birthday card or simr. His head


    inclines. “Why, Mitch, thank you. You shouldn’t have. You’re only just getting back on your financial


    feet…”


    Klempner frowns...


    But she chuckles. It''s a low sound, deep and throaty. “You’d better not thank me yet. You haven’t seen


    what’s inside.”


    James pauses, suspicion flitting across his features, then slides fingers under tape, easing the parcel


    apart to reveal somethingrge and brilliantly coloured which flops over hisp.


    Lifting it, he disys it for inspection. And biting my lip, I turn away while I get my smile under control…


    That’s what all the knitting was about…


    Dead-pan, James regards the Christmas themed pullover dangling from his fingers. In fact, it is a


    particrly fine example of the type. A knitted Rudolph head looks out from the chest. His red nose is a


    stitched-on, glittery stic bead.


    I shift, angling to get a better view…


    Is Rudolph cross-eyed?


    Yup…


    Michael meanwhile, is holding another simr parcel. And now that I look, I can see more on the heap


    of the same kind. Mitch’s eyes crinkle as they meet mine.


    I can’t resist. “You have to wear it, James. It’s a present. I can see it’s hand-knitted. It must have taken


    Mitch ages to make.”


    James casts me a look then nods across to Michael and the parcel he’s holding. His voice neutral.


    “Let’s see what’s in yours.”


    “It’s not mine.” His voice equally dead pan, Michael offers the package to Richard, who eyes it like a


    live snake.


    Jamesys Rudolph out, smoothing down the front to disy the cross-eyes to best effect. “So, let’s


    see yours, Richard.”


    Charlotte has found some excuse to turn away and is busy fussing over Cara. Nheless, her eyes


    flick to where Richard opens his gift. Santa looks out from a frame of holly leaves. His nose is as shiny


    as Rudolph’s, and again, is a sewn-on extra.


    Ryan sits beside me, his hand partly concealing his face. “They look very well made.” He casts eyes


    over the base of the tree. “How many more are there like that?”


    Michael looks glum, holding another parcel. “Just the one…” Mitch frowns… Then he brightens. “Oh,


    no. Two. Here…” He grins as he passes a package wrapped in snowman paper to Larry.


    The pullover is in navy blue. On the front, a grey and white penguin with ck button-eyes wears a


    stripy, multi-coloured bobble hat. The logo deres that Winter is Coming…


    Larry holds the offering with all the care of a grenade with the pin pulled out, then his gaze shifts to


    Michael. “Let’s see yours then.”


    The blond man’s face falls. He opens the final parcel with the air of oneying out his own funeral


    shroud; another woollen offering, this one muchrger than the previous three, flops out. The festive


    theme continues with a snowman on a blue-covered background. Hand-sized snowkes with little


    diamante centres twinkle around him.


    “You have to try them on,” I say, turning to Ryan for support. “They look very well made.”


    Charlotte pipes in. “Yes, a gift from my Mom. Her first Christmas with us. You have to put them on. All


    of you.”


    Richard turns to Beth, his eyes beseeching, but she simply says, “It would be very rude not to wear


    them.” Then, “You’re so clever, Mitch, doing all that. And without any of us noticing a thing.”. Her


    expression is innocence itself, but Richard casts her a sharp look.N?velDrama.Org copyrighted ? content.