Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 857 by Angharad

Things improved a bit later when Simon fell asleep on the sofa in the dining room and we left him there on his own. The rest of us decamped to the lounge, which is where the Christmas tree is. As far as I was concerned the present giving was over, and I was happy to settle down in front of the huge log fire which burned in the large stone fireplace.

The lounge in the farmhouse, is quite big, easily thirty feet by thirty feet, so the children were mostly playing down the other end while we adults sat near the fire eating our puddings and drinking tea or coffee.

I’d just cleared up the dirty dishes again, when Henry brought in some more wood for the fire for Tom to stoke. No one else could get it to burn like Tom, with the tree in the corner and everyone feeling replete and more or less happy, it felt mellow. The conversation was quiet and I had the carols on quietly in the background. The atmosphere was one of an old fashioned Christmas–one that never really happened, where miracles such as the turning of Scrooge from miser to philanthropist, occurred.

“Hmmm, I could sit here like this forever,” said Monica.

“You’d smell after a while,” offered Stella, who was sitting next to her stepmother.

Tom nodded to Henry and they disappeared to the study to have a crafty nip of Tom’s twelve year old malt. I made some more tea and then settled back down to enjoy the atmosphere, Silent Night was the carol being sung and I remembered singing it myself as a chorister, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“You got nuthink to say, Cathy?” said Theresa.

“Sorry, I was away in dream, listening to the music, thinking about when I sang this in a church choir.”

“Yo life was different den?”

“Only completely, to start with I could sing then, I can’t now.”

“I’ve heard her singing in the shower, sounds like someone doing nasty things to a tomcat.” Trust Stella to bring the conversation down.

“We all change as we get olda, and not all de changes is for de good. Look at me, twenty years ago, I could do any-ting, now I is stuck in dis chair. I still manage to do tings, but it take longer dan it used to, and Leon has to help me when he’s dere.”

“What put you in the chair?” asked Monica, but in a friendly rather than intrusive manner.

“Oh de multiple sclerosis, and my stupid legs, dey folded on me, and like de Humpty Dumpty, I had a great fall. Damaged my spine, I never walked proper since, and standin’ is now very hard.”

“You need Cathy to work one of her miracles.” Stella never seemed to learn about putting a sock in it. Maybe this indiscretion ran in the family–then thinking about Henry, maybe it’s only the modern generation.

I was still out of things, relaxing after running a meal for about fifteen people, to which Stella had contributed very little. I heard my name mentioned, but I wasn’t really listening.

“Oh dat lady, she has da powah, I could feel in me limbs as soon as she come into de house.”

“She did do something remarkable for Henry,” said Monica, “d’you think she’d give us a demonstration?”

“Why not, there’s nothing on telly, except Dr Who,” said Stella. “What about it, Cathy?”

“What about what?” My mind was with the Holly and the Ivy, of which I’d sung a verse as a soloist when I was a kid.

“Giving us a blue light special, on Theresa, here.”

“I don’t think so.” I felt a bit annoyed, the mellowness of my evening was being disturbed by someone who should know better.

“Go on, show ‘em how it’s done–she’ll have Theresa running about in no time.”

“Why don’t you do it?” I rose from my chair, “I have to empty the dishwasher.”

“Oh no, I’ll do that,” Stella positioned herself between me and the door.

“Won’t I need to show you the first time?” I said acerbically.

“Oh very good, Cathy, but if you recall, I emptied it last Christmas for you.”

“Did you? Sorry ladies, I’ve just remembered something–gotta go.” I feinted to the right and sidestepped Stella as she moved to block me.

I went out to the kitchen, Stella stormed in behind me. “Thank you for showing me up, back there.”

“I didn’t do anything, you were managing fine by yourself,” I spat back at her.

“I was what?” she glared at me.

“You brought up the subject of healing, I didn’t.” I felt really cross with her and was struggling to keep my temper.

“Monica did, actually, and Theresa agreed, she said you had the power, or some such thing.”

“So you three appointed yourselves, did you?”

“What d’you mean?”

“I don’t know how many times you’ve embarrassed me over this, I keep saying, I’m not doing any more of it.”

“Oh, I’m an embarrassment, am I?”

“For an intelligent woman, you don’t seem to use your brain when talking.”

“How dare you?” she turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving me feeling very churned up. I virtually threw the dishes into the machine, I was so angry. It’s bloody Christmas and all we’re doing is fighting, where’s the good will towards man?

“Trouble?” asked Henry, poking his head around the door.

“No,” I lied, “just sorting the washing up.”

“I meant with the other of my idiot offspring.”

“Oh that? It’s just a spat with Stella, we have them now and again, two women in one kitchen, that sort of thing.”

“Cathy,” he said closing the door, and I felt a little anxious–his reputation as a roué and a few drinks–did little for my confidence. Also the way things were going with my in-laws, I didn’t need discussions with another. “Cathy, you’ve put on a wonderful spread for us, I’ve also never thanked you for saving my life–I’d never have made it without you.”

Making light of it, I joked, “Oh, I don’t know, you Camerons are pretty tough, you’d have come through it without me.”

“That isn’t what my surgeon said, he’s a real fan of your magic touch.”

“I wouldn’t listen to him, he’s easily led.” I tried to joke my way out of what was feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

“I am so grateful to you, Cathy,” Henry advanced closer.

I glanced behind him, “Oh goodness look at the time, I must get the girls up to bed.”

“It’s Christmas, Cathy, lighten up a little.”

“I have things to do, Henry, this house doesn’t run itself.”

“It looks magnificent, you really do a wonderful job, we’re so lucky having you in the family.”

“No it doesn’t, we need to get some major redecorating done in the spring, and we could do with new cupboards and a new sink out here.”

“Wherever you go, Cathy, you take the eye away from the inadequacies–your natural charm and integrity shines through. I’m so proud to call you my daughter in law.”

“I’m pleased to have you as a father in law, Henry, but I still have things to do. Can you put the kettle on and I’ll go and collect the dirty cups.” I stepped around the table and nipped out the door before he could do anything else.