Lost and Found 26

26

 

Christmas Day, 2008

Amelia opened her eyes, it was Christmas Day. She was in her father’s bedroom, Sol was in the guest room, they’d managed to eat, drink and get to bed safely, and now waking up in the chilly bedroom, she did have regret that she wasn’t curled up to Sol. But they weren’t here for that. They were here for Christmas, and for her father.

Stretching, she suddenly pulled her limbs back in, the rest of the bed was icy cold. She expected that though, and had come prepared. Pulling on her thick fluffy slipper boots and shrugged on a cardigan that was knitted by Li for Christmas a few years ago she left the room. Glancing in a mirror at the top of the stairs, she laughed, talk about passion killing, lucky she wasn’t here for romance.

In the kitchen she ransacked the fridge, glad to find eggs, bacon and muffins, then there was coffee and a cafetiere, and...she chuckled again, a Christmas CD! By the time the door opened to reveal Sol, hair ravaged by sleep in similar attire, lounge trousers, thick socks and a hooded sweatshirt, she was dancing along to Band Aid and flipping eggs.

                “Why do I never remember this house being SO cold?”

Dancing across the stone floor toward him carrying a mug of coffee she finally answered, “Because kids have thicker blood, honest!”

Smiling he dropped into a chair at the kitchen table and watched her cook.  When she presented a hearty breakfast to him, he smiled, “thanks. And I haven’t wished you a Merry Christmas!”

                “Same to you!” They shared a smile, then settled down to enjoy their breakfast. Once her stomach was full, the chill of the house seemed to lift. “How sad that we’re both sat here without a Christmas gift between us?”

Sol smiled, “well we can both blame it on being too busy! Not being sad and lonely!”

She shared an ironic laugh, “what did you do last year? It was my first year in New York and I had a brilliant time.”

                “Do you want to hear of my first Christmas as a married man? Saying that, it was no less lonely than all the previous years!”

Amelia raised her mug, “well let’s drink to happier times, hey?”

He clinked his coffee to hers and nodded, “isn’t that the truth?”

                “I’m going to get dressed, then I need to get to the hospital.”

                “Take my car, then I can start dinner!”

She gaped as she looked at him, “really? A man giving up his monster car for a little girl like me?”

He nodded, “I’m a metrosexual man!” Laughing he tossed her the keys. “Lunch for three pm? Thought we could wander to the village pub first, give them all a real shock!”

For a few seconds her eyes widened, thinking through the prospect of turning up in front of all the village gossips with Sol. But he was making the effort, looking after her. He deserved her support for that.

                “Cool. I won’t be that long I promise!”

Amelia’s father was sat up in bed, but still fast asleep. He woke for a few ‘yes’ and ‘no’ answers, but otherwise seemed exhausted. There was no doctor to speak to, to find out why he was so lethargic, and when or even if he’d start to feel better.  She sat with him for an hour, but he was exhausted. Kissing his head, she promised to call later, and he actually smiled as she left.

Sol’s large and luxurious car was a smooth ride, and covered the uneven roads of the village with ease. Pulling up outside the mansion house, Amelia breathed a sigh of relief, she was glad to be back, and the thought of doing nothing more than visiting the pub and eating a large lunch was wonderful.

The smell of cooking food wafting around the house was unbelievable. And despite the large breakfast her stomach rumbled. Like a Bisto child she followed the smell from the hallway to the kitchen, then stopped in the doorway taking in the vision of Sol, a white apron covering his grey cashmere sweater and jeans, he seemed calm, but his unruly hair showed the signs of his hands having ravaged through it several times.

                “This smells fantastic!”

Sol spun around, surprised at her presence in the room, “I didn’t hear you come in. How’s your father?”

Amelia shrugged, “tired. He’s answering my questions, but is hardly awake. I’m trying not to worry as I won’t know anything until I speak to the doctor, and there are very few of the, around in Christmas Day!”

Smiling in a sad way he placed down the whisk he was using to mix the gravy, “well he’s in the best place. And he’s no pushover, if anyone can get through something like this, it’s him. So here...” he retrieved the eggnog from the fridge and filled a glass for her. “Have this, and in fifteen minutes everything will be ready, and we can wander to the Red Lion.”

The drink was delicious, spicy and creamy, and Amelia perched on a stool beside the counter and watched him wrestle with the half cooked turkey, chuckling every now and again, which raised an indignant glance from Sol. Eventually everything was ready, the turkey was finishing off in the oven, the vegetables were ready, so Sol removed his apron and came towards her.

                “Right, let’s go!”

She looked at him, he looked divine in his worn but stylish jeans and that clingy sweater, she’d not seen him in anything other than suits until now, “are you sure you want to do this?”

He laughed, “do I want to go out for a Christmas Day drink with my oldest friend?...Yes! But wrap up warm; it does look like snow, y’know!”

In boots, hats and gloves, they walked the short distance to the village pub. It was packed, a large open fire warming the room, people standing and sitting in various Christmas clothing, all chatting and drinking.  Sol pushed his was through to the bar and ordered a pint of beer, and a bottled beer for Amelia, then they made their way to the only space possible, near the fire.

                “So recognise anyone?” he leaned to ask in her ear.

She nodded, “everyone! Don’t you?”

Glancing around he gestured with his head towards the corner of the room, “The Smiths didn’t they have the corner shop?” Amelia nodded. “And isn’t that Gareth Martin? The man you were going to date...” he leaned in and paused close to her ear, “to make me jealous?”

Amelia blushed, remembering her desperation as a teenager to make Sol notice her as more than a surrogate sister, “you ignored me!” She snapped, “and anyway, he had nice eyes!”

Sol laughed out loud, “I KNEW it!” But keeping his mouth close to her ear, he added, “I was always aware of you Hot-Meal-ia, I just had to keep it under wraps, and you flirting at parties with that chinless wonder did not make it any easier.”

His breath on her ear was causing her body to dissolve into some sort of mush, and as she involuntarily leaned into him, the sensation of his strong, hard body supporting hers seemed to send any words, any sensible response away. Breathing deeper, she looked up to meet his eyes, he was struggling as much as her, she could tell.

                “You never told me you were jealous!” Her voice was a croak, and it only felt harder to talk when he broke into a smile. A toe tingling, spine tickling smile.

                “I was very jealous!” His mouth was still close to her ear, “but not as jealous as Gareth Martin is at this moment! He’s looking at you as he sits with his father unsavoury looking wife and ruing how he let you get away.”

Gulping in an attempt to gain some control, she glanced to the left of them and saw Gareth, there were a few of them sat at the table, and none of them looked particularly happy. Sol chuckled and she shivered, “I’ve just noticed that we are quite the hot topic here. Lots of eyes on us,” that warm chuckle again preceded the additional, “shall we give them something to talk about?”

                “No!” She batted his hands away then turned to look around the pub. There were so many faces that were SO familiar. But she could also tell that Sol was right, they were definitely going to be the subject of gossip later on.  It was then she spotted Mrs Young, a pensioner now, but earlier in her life she’d been a friend of her mother’s, and had cared for Amelia as a small child after her death.

                “Amelia Parkin!” She exclaimed rushing over, “how’s your father? Several people say they saw an ambulance up at the manor.”

Amelia was buried in a hug, before she could even speak, “do you remember Sol Tanner?” Mrs Young nodded and shook his hand. “Yes, Dad’s in hospital, he’d collapsed at home, they’re just trying to get him back on his feet, I was there this morning.”

Mrs Young nodded knowingly, “he’s been lonely your Dad and that Alex...” She shook her head, “he’s a scoundrel if ever I saw one! Last time I saw your Dad he was telling me you were in New York. He’s so proud of you!”

Amelia felt a lump in her throat, had her distant father really bragged about her achievements? She didn’t even know that he knew where she was. They’d argued so badly the previous year, and the pain of that still hurt now.

                “Well we haven’t seen a great deal of each other the last few years.”

She nodded, “I don’t think I’ve seen you in ten years or more Amelia. But you look well...” she smiled at Sol, “and you even longer Mr Tanner.”

Sol, as enigmatic as ever, enchanted Mrs Young with a charming smile, “not since I left for University, and that was a LONG time ago. Saying that, you don’t look any different. How’s your son? He was in my year at school.”

It was the right thing to say, she started to wax lyrical about John and his wife and his work... and his house... and children. Sol and Amelia exchanged humorous glances, but soon they were ensconced at a table with the Young family, and everyone in the village was eavesdropping and chipping in.

At two Sol insisted they leave, as the turkey would have been cremated in the oven otherwise. As they made for the door at least a dozen people begged them to come back that evening for a sing-along, a Christmas night tradition at the Red Lion. Without making promises, they headed out into the already darkening afternoon to be confronted by snow. Light, but still pretty, romantic and perfect for Christmas.

When Amelia slipped, Sol took her gloved hand, and they walked along the silent roads hand in hand, back to the feast of a lunch that he had lovingly prepared.

By the time they reached the house, the snow was sticking and getting thicker, but inside the house was finally toasty warm. They’d left the heating on, and a fire still burned in the living room, then there was the oven pumping heat into the kitchen. Kicking off their boots, and peeling out of the winter layers, it was Amelia’s job to lay the table whilst Sol returned to the kitchen.

Amelia called the hospital before eating, wanting to check on how her father was, he was awake they told her and had actually got out of bed. She didn’t want to speak to him directly, but she asked that they told him she’d called.

By three o’clock they were sat opposite each other in the large dining room and ate first scallops with black pudding and bacon, then the huge bird, with all the trimmings. The conversation was fun, light hearted and the alcohol free flowing.

                “So is there dessert?” Amelia asked leaning back in the traditional carver chair, crossing her arms across her full stomach.

He laughed as he cleared the last Brussels sprout, “I avoided Christmas pudding, I find it too heavy. I got individual Pavlova’s. Thought they seemed light, and fruity?”

She grinned, “I’ve not got an overly sweet tooth, not a huge chocolate fan. But I love fruit...cheesecake...sponges, and of course meringues! I think Mr Tanner that you’re speaking my language.”

                “Can I employ you?” Amelia asked as the best looking dessert was placed in front of her.

                “I did buy these, from M and S, so that’s another cheat!”

Amelia laughed, “I don’t care about the cheats, I’ve enjoyed today more than any other Christmas, and more than most of the days over the past few months.”

Sol grinned, “me too. And it’s not over yet!”