| Episode: 55
“Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” By Darren Rowe The Goodwin Residence 23 Spencer Street A heavy blanket of pure white snow covered Somerset, transforming the sprawling, chaotic and at times lonely metropolis into a winter wonderland. Christmas trees, beautifully decorated in grand ruby red and gold decorations, took pride of place in living room windows, their twinkling lights sparkling against the backdrop of a menacingly dark grey sky. Snowmen took up residence in some front gardens, while every other house was adorned to the hilt with brightly flashing Christmas lights. Sitting out on the back deck of the Goodwin’s home, Nicole, wrapped snugly in the new Burberry coat she’d bought for herself for Christmas, took a long drag of the cigarette placed loosely between her right index and middle fingers and looked out over the white garden as she let out an exhale of white smoke that danced up into the freezing mid-morning air. “Okay, darling.” Grace opened the white lacquered timber French doors of the kitchen and stepped out onto the rear deck, shivering from the initial nip of the freezing mornings air as she nattered away on the telephone to her daughter. “Give my best to Robbie and Kerrie. I love you. Okay, ‘bye, darling.” “Aunty Susan?” Nicole asked sucking on her cigarette as she watched her grandmother take a seat alongside her at the timber outdoor setting before resting the pearl white cordless phone down on the table. Pulling her thick, woollen Vivienne Westwood shawl tighter around her shoulders, Grace relaxed into her seat and looked out across the white wonderland that her back garden has been transformed into seemingly overnight. “Yes. They’re heading off to Bruce’s mothers soon, so she thought it best to call before we headed out.” “She called you or you called her?” Nicole smirked, already knowing the answer to her own question. She didn’t have anything against her aunt Susan, but Nicole knew that there was no way Susan would’ve made the effort to call Grace. It wasn’t her style. Susan preferred to wait and let everyone else come to her, something that irritated Nicole to no end. “Minor details, darling,” Grace replied, slightly disappointed that the thought hadn’t even crossed her daughter’s mind to pick up the phone for a quick chat on Christmas morning. Grace didn’t mind chasing after Susan, but just once it would be nice to get a call out of the blue. “Nice to see she made an effort this year as always.” Nicole stubbed out her cigarette in the glass ashtray placed precariously on the arm of her wooden chair before rubbing her near frozen hands together, desperate to warm her hands and avoid the first signs of frostbite. “Nicole.” Grace whipped her head around and looked at her granddaughter. While she couldn’t argue with Nicole, it still wasn’t a comment Grace could let slide. “Sorry. I’m just sayin’…” “Yes, well none of us are perfect.” A silence settled over the pair as they both looked out across the snow-covered garden, each one lost in their thoughts. “It doesn’t feel the same this year, does it?” Nicole let out a deep sigh as her thoughts soon turned to her parents who perished in a car accident nearly six months ago. Nothing had felt the same since their deaths, but there was something different about today. A more intense sadness clung to Nicole. “No,” Grace agreed, her own thoughts turning to Kate. “Not particularly.” Nicole looked at Grace. “I don’t even see why we have to go the Hudson’s,” she groaned, dreading the thought of having to spend the rest of the day and early evening pretending to enjoy the company of Elizabeth while trying to avoid any mention of the seemingly forgotten black sheep of the Hudson family, Sarah. “They’re family.” “No they’re not.” “Well they’re Chloe’s family.” “No they’re not,” Nicole corrected. She hated how, because her family had all but been decimated, everyone felt it now necessary for the Goodwin’s to be absorbed into the Hudson clan as if it were some sort of business merger or something. As far as Nicole was concerned, the Hudson’s were her neighbours and friends and nothing more. “Well good as, Nicole.” Grace didn’t understand what Nicole’s sudden protest was to spending the day with Georgia, Calvin and the rest of the family. Nicole had known for weeks what the plans for today were and had had plenty of time to arrange alternate arrangements. Nicole looked away for her grandmother, rolling her eyes in the process. The fact that Chloe and Oliver’s relationship had been seen by everyone in Spencer Street as some sort of holy union between two destined lovers made her stomach churn. Nicole gave the romance six months tops. “If you don’t want to come, Nicole, I’m not going to force you.” Nicole sat up straight in her seat and looked back at Grace. “I just don’t see why we have to have a grandiose Christmas this year. After everything that’s…” Nicole’s voice trailed off as she slowly lowered her head. Her chin quivering, Nicole’s eyes closed as she wiped away a tear. “Oh my darling.” Grace joined Nicole on her seat, wrapping her arms around her granddaughter in a loving embrace and gently rubbing her back in a show of love and support. Grace knew how much David and Kate’s deaths had affected Nicole, but still seeing how emotional Nicole got as she thought about her two deceased parents broke Grace’s heart every time. “It just doesn’t feel right, gran.” Nicole sobbed softly, trying to regain her composure as she refused to crumble into a wailing and emotional heap in her grandmother’s arms. “Not this year. It’s like they were never here.” Parting from the embrace with her granddaughter, Grace looked into Nicole’s eyes and wiped away her tears before curling a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “They’ll always be here, darling. Forever in here,” Grace said, holding a hand to her chest. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” “Nicole…” “No, its okay, gran.” Nicole said, sniffing back her tears as she adjusted herself in her seat. “I’ve been through this before alone; I’ll get through it again alone.” “You’re not alone, Nicole.” Grace held her granddaughters hand, softly rubbing the back of Nicole’s palm with her thumb. “And I’m so sorry.” Nicole looked at Grace slightly perplexed. “For what?” “For not being there when you needed me most.” Grace said softly, lowering her head slightly as if ashamed by her previous actions. Grace had never forgiven herself for the way she let Nicole sink into a dark world of depression following Connor’s murder and part of her felt as though she never would forgive herself. “Not a day goes by, Nicole when I don’t feel guilty about leaving you to drown in your own grief and sorrow. I was foolish to think you were dealing with things. There was Chloe literally fighting for her life and that’s all I saw. I didn’t see that you were also fighting for yours.” “I’m still here aren’t I?” Nicole tried to muster up a smile, but she couldn’t. Hearing Grace admit that the family had failed Nicole confirmed all her long held beliefs and although it gave Nicole some closure to hear Grace admit her mistake, it also opened up a series of new emotional wounds that would take a long time to heal and recover from. Grace’s eyes began to blink in quick succession as she struggled to fight back her tears. “But you’re damaged, Nicole.” She sighed softly, realising for the first time just how much her actions had affected Nicole. “You’ve got a sadness in your eyes that reminds me everyday of how I failed you.” Nicole shook her head; refusing to let her grandmother take all the blame for the way the Goodwin family treated Nicole following Connor’s death. “No, gran…” “I’m so sorry, Nicole.” A lone tear broke from the corner of Grace’s eye and rolled down her cheek, leaving a long, jagged trail of black mascara behind. “I’m so terribly sorry.” Hugging her grandmother once again, Nicole softly kissed Grace’s cheek. “Thank you.” Nicole whispered softly into her grandmother’s ear as another tear rolled down her cheek and dripped from her chin. “We’ll get him back.” Grace whispered, patting Nicole gently on the back. “We’ll get Charlie back and then we’ll make things right again. I promise.” With Grace’s supportive words ringing in her ears, Nicole closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the belief that Charlie would one day be back home in her arms. “I’ll always love you, Nicole. Don’t you ever forget that, you hear me?” “Hello?” Came Chloe’s upbeat and slightly muffled voice from inside the Goodwin family home as the front door clicked shut. “Gran? Nicole?” “Come on,” Grace smiled at Nicole as the pair parted. “It’s freezing out here.” As Oliver placed several oversized and exquisitely decorated gifts under the twinkling Christmas tree, Chloe walked through the living room and into the kitchen, removing her tan coloured coat and thick woollen scarf and resting them over the back of one of the four chairs around a small table in the middle of the kitchen as Nicole and Grace walked back inside through the large French doors, shivering slightly from the sheer bitterness of the cold outside. “What were you doing outside? It’s freezing!” Nicole guiltily held up her packet of cigarettes and smiled at her half-sister. “New Years resolution…I swear.” “Merry Christmas, darling.” Grace kissed Chloe softly on the cheek before hugging her. “You look simply beautiful.” She beamed, noticing Chloe’s rather festive silky red dress, before smiling at Oliver as he entered the kitchen. “Merry Christmas, Oliver.” “Merry Christmas, Grace.” Oliver kissed her gently on the cheek before beginning to remove his thick parker. “You okay?” Chloe asked Nicole, noticing the slight redness and puffiness of her sister’s eyes as if she’d been crying. Nicole smiled at Chloe and nodded. “Yeah, fine.” As much as Nicole loved Chloe, there was still a reluctance on her part to re-establish the close bond they’d once shared. Nicole knew she shouldn’t and couldn’t blame Chloe for the way everyone had focused on her problems rather than her own following Connor’s death, but Nicole was finding it increasingly more difficult to move past the animosity that was slowly building between them. “Merry Christmas, Nic.” Oliver smiled at Nicole as he placed his parker over the back of one of the chairs around the small meals table. “Yeah. Merry Christmas, Ollie,” Nicole replied with a smile. “Ollie’s put your presents under the tree,” Chloe said, turning and smiling at Grace in the hope of prompting her grandmother to announce it was time to unwrap the many gifts piled high under the twinkling Christmas tree. “Oh Chloe, really, you shouldn’t have,” Grace grumbled, secretly thrilled at thought of opening her many presents under the tree. “Oh please, gran.” Chloe walked back across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Oliver’s waist, kissing him softly on the cheek before looking back at her grandmother and continuing. “We go through this every year. I’m not not getting you presents, okay?” “Fine.” Grace smiled, not needing to be told twice. “Come on, let’s head into the living room. It’s much warmer in there.” “So all settled in?” Nicole asked her sister as she began to follow Grace, Chloe and Oliver through the kitchen and into the cheerfully warm living room. Chloe let out a weary sigh as the mere thought of unpacking any more boxes left her feeling physically drained. “Oh, not really. It’s a crazy mess of boxes and stuff, but it’ll get there…eventually.” “It was all pretty quick.” Nicole commented somewhat rudely whilst grabbing a handful of salted peanuts from the small crystal dish in the middle of the meals table as she followed her family into the living room. “Next you’ll be telling us you’re engaged.” With his hands in his pockets, Oliver looked at Chloe as a bright smile broke across his face. “Well…” “That’s definitely a long way off, right babe?” Chloe’s eyes widened with insistence as she took a seat in one of the two armchairs in the living room. “Ah, yeah.” Oliver agreed, perching himself on the arm of Chloe’s armchair. “A long way off.” “Well when the times right, I’m sure you’ll know it,” Grace replied as she stoked the small fire in the fireplace. An awkward silence quickly settled over the Goodwin’s, everyone as unsure as the next about what to say to eachother. “So,” Grace began, quickly ending the awkward silence that threatened to overshadow their jovial Christmas morning as she turned around to face her two granddaughters and Oliver. “Who’s for presents? I’ve had my eye on this one here for the past two weeks.” “Relax, gran.” Nicole sighed, taking a seat on the sofa as she watched Grace swoop down and scoop up a small, beautifully decorated box marked ‘To Gran, love Nicole’ from amongst the dozens of other presents under the Christmas tree. “Its not jewellery.” “Oh.” Grace sounded disappointed. Her dream that the small, neatly gift wrapped rectangular box she’d been eying off for the past few weeks, convinced it was a white gold bracelet from Tiffany’s, was all but crushed following Nicole’s rather abrupt sentence. Picking up the small parcel anyway, Grace held it tightly in her hand, the million and one butterflies in her stomach started to stir as she gently pulled on the red silk bow. – spencer street – The Lawson Residence 19 Spencer Street “Looks good.” Miles stood in the doorway of the Lawson’s dining room with arms folded watching Hazel add her final magic touches to the exquisitely decorated table. Months of planning always went into Hazel’s Christmas day dining table and this year was no exception. A golden candelabra adorned with holly and ivy took pride of place in the centre of the table, while four immaculately laid out place settings received the final touches of a festive red cloth napkin and gold and silver Christmas cracker. “Thank you.” Hazel didn’t bother to turn and speak to Miles face-to-face. She was too preoccupied with her festive duties and as the minutes until Christmas lunch slowly counted down, Hazel’s mind was already turning to next years Christmas decorating scheme. As Hazel scurried about the dining table, making sure it was perfect, Miles stood in silence. “When are we going to talk this through, Hazel?” “When I’m ready.” Hazel gently smoothed out a crease in the pure white tablecloth with her hands. “And when will that be?” “When I’m ready, Miles.” Hazel snapped, spinning around and staring back at her husband. Although Miles was ready to talk through their marital problems and move on, Hazel was still struggling to come to terms with the discovery she’d made in February that Miles had been having an affair with his young personal assistant for the past fourteen months. “Well do you think you could pretend to be happy today?” Miles snarled under his breath but just loud enough for Hazel to hear as he entered the dining room and cast an eye over Hazel’s decorating abilities. “Just one day, that’s all I’m asking, Hazel. It shouldn’t be too hard.” Hazel watched Miles circle the table, running a hand along the white tablecloth causing it to crease slightly, as if doing it on purpose to get a rise out of her. “You had an affair, Miles, and that devastated me.” Hazel said sternly, her eyes narrowing slightly as her husband came to a stop in front of her and looked into her eyes. “So I’m sorry that my immense hurt, pain and mistrust is an inconvenience to you, but when I’m ready to talk about it we’ll talk about it.” Turning to leave, Hazel paused and looked back over her shoulder at Miles. “Oh, and in answer to your question, just like other things in our marriage, I’ve been faking my happiness for years, so believe me, today will be a breeze.” As Hazel stormed off into the kitchen, Miles stood alone in silence in the dining room. While he knew he was going about his reconciliation with Hazel completely the wrong way, he couldn’t help but let his frustrations get the better of him. There came a loud knock at the front door and Miles set off through the living room to answer it. “Merry Christmas.” Laura smiled brightly, her arms brimming with presents as Miles opened the front door to her. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Miles leaned in and kissed his daughter-in-law on the cheek before opening the front door wider and stepping out onto the porch to help Laura. “Here, let me help you.” As Miles took a number of large parcels off Laura’s hands, she breathed a small sigh of relief. Although she’d only bought presents for Hazel, Miles and Nick, she’d somehow managed to go completely Christmas crazy and ended up spending a fortune, buying each three expensive presents each. “Thank you, Miles.” As Laura entered the Lawson’s home, Miles, his arms bulging with Christmas gifts, kicked the front door closed with his foot and followed his daughter-in-law into the living room. “Laura’s here.” “Merry Christmas, darling.” Hazel said, wiping her hands on her festive apron as she walked into the living room to greet her daughter-in-law. Placing her handbag down on an armchair, Laura kissed Hazel on the cheek and gave her a soft hug. “Merry Christmas, Hazel.” “Here she is!” Nick said rather loudly as he came downstairs to greet Laura, his iPod blaring in his ears. “Hey,” Laura smiled at Nick as she kissed her brother-in-law on the cheek. “Merry Christmas.” “Yeah, merry Christmas. I’ll take that for you,” Nick said, taking Laura’s heavy winter coat from her as she slipped it from her shoulders and hanging it on the coat stand in the corner of the room. “Thanks, Nick.” “Eggnog, Laura?” Hazel offered as she watched Miles pile the gifts Laura brought with her under the already bulging Christmas tree. Although she’d told Laura not to bother with presents, a small part of Hazel was extremely excited to see three large parcels with her name on them. “No, I’m fine at the moment thank you, Hazel.” Looking over Hazel’s shoulder, Laura noticed the elaborately decorated dining room. “Oh that looks gorgeous!” Laura gasped, making her way across the living room to take a closer look at Hazel’s handiwork. “Thank you.” Hazel smiled broadly as she followed her daughter-in-law over to the dining room, chuffed that Laura was so taken with her decorating abilities. “I copied some ideas off the television.” “The ostrich feathers are certainly…different.” “Well,” Hazel began, looking at the bunches of dyed ostrich feathers that she’d stitched to the back of the dining chairs. “I wasn’t sure if they’d work, but I think they come up a treat!” “Oh, they do.” Laura looked at Hazel and smiled politely. She wasn’t sure what else she could say. They were hideous. The large clusters of colourful feather looked like something straight out a 19th century Parisian bordello. “They’re…certainly something else.” Noticing Laura’s ultra polite reply, Nick and Miles smiled at eachother before taking a seat on the sofa and turning on the television. “So is there anything I can help you with?” Laura asked, quickly trying to move on from Hazel’s unusual decorating choices before she offered to do the same to Laura’s dining setting. “Oh I’m sure I can find something,” Hazel said, admiring her Christmas table one last time. “Come on through to the kitchen and we can have a girlie chat. Just the two of us.” “Great.” Laura looked at Nick and Miles in horror, silently begging one of them to rescue her from the torture she was about to endure, as she followed Hazel into the kitchen. “Sounds awesome.” – spencer street – The Hudson Residence 21 Spencer Street Stood at the large solid oak dining table in the Hudson’s dining room, Elizabeth, dressed to the nines in her sequin and diamante adorned festive skirt and blouse, studied the name cards dotted around the elegantly decorated table. “Okay, mum?” Georgia asked as she entered the dining room and placed a basket of freshly pressed gold cloth napkins down on the sideboard. “You’ve not put me here, have you?” Elizabeth asked with a scrunched up face as she looked at where Georgia had placed her on the table. Out of all the spots around the table to be seated, Elizabeth had been given the one spot she dreaded most – next to Nicole. Collecting a rolled up napkin from the basket, Georgia slipped it through a shining golden napkin ring before placing it on down on the dining table. “Does the name card Elizabeth?” “Yes.” “And is your name Elizabeth?” Elizabeth looked back at her daughter with a narrow glare as she pursed her lips tightly together, convinced that Calvin had switched the name cards and placed her next to Nicole out of spite. “Next to Nicole!?” Georgia cracked a soft smile as she struggled to stop herself from laughing. The look of sheer horror and disgust on her mother’s face at that very moment was priceless and Georgia was seriously thinking about taking a photo. “Do you have a problem with that, mother?” she asked with a sickly sweet tone as she continued to slide napkin rings over the napkins. “No.” Elizabeth lied, looking back down at the table and secretly plotting to switch her name card with Calvin’s. “As long as she’s taken her meds I’m sure we’ll all manage cope with her deluded ramblings about her being Jesus.” Georgia looked at Elizabeth and let out a quiet laugh, stunned that her mother had actually said what she’d just said. “She had a breakdown.” “And your point is?” Elizabeth looked back at Georgia with a raised brow. As far as Elizabeth was concerned she didn’t have anything against Nicole, but the fact she’d spent more than five months in a psychiatric hospital raised a red flag that there was something more going on than just a breakdown. Georgia rubbed her forehead, feeling the early warning signs of an emerging headache as she struggled to think of just where to being in her explanation to Elizabeth of how wrong her way of thinking was. “You know, sometimes I don’t know how we’re related.” “All I’m saying is that Marge Emmery’s son, Billy…you know, Billy?” Elizabeth frowned at Georgia, motioning for her to agree that she did know Billy Emmery even though Georgia had never heard of him in her entire life. “The unfortunate looking lad with the wonky eye. He also has a lisp and walks a bit funny...kind of looks like Quasimodo. Well, he’s actually quite simple, which is a shame really ‘cause the Emmery’s have a long history associated with law and I think there were high hopes for Billy, but Marge was always a terrible drinker and there’s not a shadow of a doubt in my mind that she must’ve dropped him on his head when he was a baby. I mean, one day he was a happy and healthy three-month-old and the next he’s started to develop these ‘problems’.” “Does this story have a point?” Georgia sighed, rolling her eyes as she listened to her mother’s long-winded and politically incorrect story. “Well,” Elizabeth continued, finally getting to the point of her story. “He had a ‘breakdown’ and was carted off to the loony bin… “ “Psychiatric hospital.” Georgia quickly corrected. While she couldn’t change her mother’s way of thinking, she could make her use the politically correct terms when Nicole was around. “Well whatever the politically correct name is nowadays.” Elizabeth said with a waive of her wrist as if brushing away Georgia’s correction. “Anyway, he was carted off there for a good number of years and when he came out he was a completely different person.” “He was a woman?” Georgia chuckled to herself as she looked over at Elizabeth. “Georgia this serious.” “Of course it is.” Georgia sighed rather loudly, collecting the final napkin from the basket and sliding it through the last golden napkin ring. Elizabeth continued with her story, determined to get her point across to Georgia. “He believed he was Jesus. Now far be it from me to doubt him, because as a devout Christian I firmly believe that Jesus will return to the Earth one day, but I was talking to Glenda Robson just the other month and she said the same thing about Emily Watkins’ daughter, Patricia. You know Patricia, the morbidly obese one who always dresses like she’s shopped at a second hand store?” “Oh good lord.” Georgia groaned as she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead in a circular motion. It seemed that with every passing year Elizabeth’s ability to say the most politically incorrect and insensitive things grew and Georgia was suddenly beginning to dread the thought of Elizabeth and Nicole being in the same room in a few short hours. “Well,” Elizabeth began, continuing with her story despite Georgia’s groans and moans. “Glenda said that Emily’s Patricia came out of the loony bin…” “Psychiatric hospital.” “Psychiatric hospital thinking that she was Jes-“ “Excuse me, Georgia,” Margot said warmly as she entered the dining room, immediately silencing Elizabeth’s ramblings. “The cheese and onion slice is ready.” “Oh great, thanks Marg.” Georgia collected the empty basket from the sideboard and started to follow her mother-in-law out of the dining room. “But I haven’t finished my story.” Elizabeth protested as she watched Georgia walk out on her mid-conversation. Georgia looked at Margot and rolled her eyes. “I get the general idea, mother.” As Georgia and Margot disappeared into the kitchen, Elizabeth looked back at the seating arrangements of dining table. Picking up her name card, she quickly raced around to the other side and swapped her card with Calvin’s. Placing Calvin’s name card in front of the seat beside Nicole’s, Elizabeth smiled wickedly to herself, pleased at the sneaky switch she’d just pulled off. – – – – – Kneeling in front of the twinkling Christmas tree, Calvin’s hands skimmed the edges of one of his presents as he tried to feel what Elizabeth had got him for Christmas. “You can’t be serious.” Adam chuckled to himself as he entered the living room from the passage to find Calvin fondling the presents like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “That’s what little kids do.” “What?” Calvin quickly jumped to his feet and straightened out his shirt, embarrassed that he’d been caught by Adam of all people. “You think…? Oh, no, I wasn’t…” “It’s okay, Cal.” Adam smiled broadly as he stepped forward and playfully slapped his brother-in-law on the back. “Your secrets safe with me.” Watching Adam strut off into the kitchen as if he owned the place, Calvin’s stare narrowed. “I hate it how he calls me that.” Calvin grumbled to his mother as he watched her walk into the living room from the kitchen, passing Adam on the way. Margot blew gently at the small steaming portion of Georgia’s cheese and onion slice that sat precariously on the tip of her fork. “What?” “Adam, calling me Cal.” “Oh he’s just being friendly.” Margot said, taking the hot piece of cheese and onion slice in her mouth and beginning to chew. “Hardly.” Calvin said with a roll of his eyes as he flopped down onto the sofa like a disgruntled teenager and began to watch the children’s movie playing out onscreen. Pleasantly surprised at Georgia’s delicious slice, Margot licked her lips, trying to savour the flavour of the slice as sat down next to her son. “So I take it having Adam around is quickly loosing its appeal?” “Did it ever have an appeal?” “Well,” Margot rubbed Calvin’s shoulder in support. “At least you’re helping him get back on his feet, Calvin, that’s incredibly admirable.” Calvin shrugged his shoulders and grunted in reluctant agreement. “There’s just something about him.” “Such as?” “I don’t know.” Calvin turned his attention away from the God-awful cartoon and looked at his mother. “He’s just shifty. He has no friends but he’s always on the phone to someone. But of course in Georgia’s eyes he can do no wrong.” “Well just give him time.” Margot said with a smile, trying to brighten her sons mood – it was, after all, Christmas day. “Sooner or later he’ll trip himself up.” ‘I just don’t know how much longer I can take it, Ma. I’m being invaded. First Adam and now Elizabeth.” “Well at least she’s only here for Christmas.” “Thank God.” Calvin said with a relieved moan. The thought of Elizabeth staying any longer than she had to sent a cold shiver down his spine. “I don’t know how you put up with it.” Margot smiled, stealing quick glances at the surprisingly engrossing cartoon out the corner of her eye. “I’m lucky to see the woman once a year and that’s more than enough, believe me.” “Alcohol helps.” Calvin said dryly with a sniff as he looked back at the television to see what was supposed to be a white rabbit, although it looked more like a white blob with two black dots for eyes, excitedly unwrap a Christmas present and squeal with joy at the yellow rubber duckie it had received from Santa. – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street “How do I look?” Paige asked, doing a quick twirl for Hamish, as the pair stood on out the front of Brock and Isabelle’s in the freezing mid-morning temperatures. Hamish cast a quick eye over the outlandish Victoria Beckham-esque designer outfit Paige was sporting before looking over his shoulder at the snow-covered street. “Overdressed.” “Babes,” Paige snarled viciously, her mouth ajar as Hamish’s observation of her outfit left a very bitter taste in her mouth. “Its Christmas. You can never overdress at Christmas, its fizzily impossible.” “Whatever,” Hamish sniffed as she shifted his weigh onto his left leg, bored with waiting for Brock or Isabelle to answer the front door. “Can we just get this over with?” Correcting a bow on one of the gifts she’d bought for Isabelle, Paige looked at Hamish out the corner of her eye. “I thought you liked Brelle?” “What?” Hamish frowned, not understanding a word Paige had just said. “Brelle” Paige repeated as if Hamish was stupid for not understanding whom she was talking about. “Brock and Belle? It’s their Hollywood name. You know, Brangelina…Bennifer…Brelle…” “Okay, that is officially the worst name I’ve ever heard you come up with.” “I don’t know…” Paige stared off into space, a blank expression on her face as she thought about all the Hollywood names she’d created for her friends over the years. “Danielle and Rick wasn’t exactly my best creation. I mean, what was I thinking coming up with the Hollywood name Dic-“ “Hey.” Isabelle beamed as she opened the front door to her guests. “Merry Christmas, babes!” Paige seemed to squeal excitedly before planting a friendly kiss on Isabelle’s glossy lips. Bending down, Paige looked at the large baby bump hidden behind Isabelle’s designer maternity dress and tickled it with the tips of her fingernails. “Merry Christmas, baby Brelle!” “Brelle?” Isabelle frowned at Hamish, confused at Paige’s creation as her friend hurried inside to escape the cold. “Don’t ask.” Hamish replied with a roll of his eyes, mortified at Paige’s behaviour, before kissing Isabelle on the cheek. “Hey guys.” Brock smiled as he came downstairs fixing his hair while Hamish headed into the living room to join Paige. “Merry Christmas, babe!” Paige said, giving Brock a quick kiss on the cheek as he entered the living room. “Merry Christmas, Hamish.” Brock held out a hand, waiting for Hamish to accept his offer to shake hands. “Merry Christmas, Brock.” Hamish smiled before shaking hands. “Jack not joining us?” Paige asked as she stuffed her bounty of presents under Brock and Isabelle’s six foot tall Christmas tree before standing back and admiring the pure beauty of Isabelle’s handiwork. The grand pine tree was truly impressive, decorated in silver and electric blue handmade glass decorations. It was like something one would see in the windows of a department store and Paige was incredibly jealous, making mental notes about how to better her tree for next year. “I don’t think so,” Isabelle sighed, taking Hamish and Paige’s coats before hanging them up on the coat rack. “He’s still upstairs.” Paige smiled at Isabelle, admiring the way she’d stepped up to help Jack in his hour of need. Well I bought him a gift anyway, so…” “Oh you didn’t have to do that.” “Well I thought it was the least I could do given what he’s going through.” “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it, Paige,” Isabelle smiled sweetly, hugging the woman she’d formed a close bond with over the past few months. “Thank you.” “So,” Brock began, rubbing his hands together as the foursome stood in the living room. “Can I get you both a drink or something?” “Oh I’m gasping for a cosmopolitan!” Paige puffed, clasping a hand against her chest as if she were about to collapse at any moment. Brock smiled, unable to hide his amusement at Paige’s over the top reaction. “One cosmopolitan coming up. And Hamish?” “I’m fine, thanks.” Hamish replied dryly, forcing a smile as thoughts of his public outing at work and Brock’s adamant refusal to stand up for him continued to haunt him. Upstairs, Jack took a seat on the top step of the staircase and looked down into the living room. Resting his head against the balustrade, he let out a soft sigh. – spencer street – The Sinclair Residence 25 Spencer Street Sitting at the dining table in the Sinclair’s festively decorated dining room, Chelsea looked across the table at Matthew sat opposite her and flashed him a mischievous grin. There was something excitingly naughty and forbidden about being alone in a room with your secret lover while your father was in the next room that tempted Chelsea. Underneath the table, Chelsea removed a foot from one of her Gucci pumps and slowly ran the tips of her toes up Matthew’s leg. Shifting in his seat, Matthew looked back at Chelsea and bit down on his bottom lip, fighting the urge to leap across the table and have his way with her. April entered the dining and took a seat beside Chelsea, quickly putting an end to any romantic carryon as Chelsea quickly slipped her shoe back on her foot. An incredibly awkward silence settled over the table as everyone knew what the others were thinking. April looked at her brother, unsure whether it was her place to tell Chelsea his secret. “And who was it that said men can’t cook?” Sean beamed as he entered the dining room carrying the freshly roasted large turkey in on a tray. “Mmm, that looks delicious.” April licked her lips slightly watching as Sean placed the large roasted bird in the middle of the table. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, darling.” “Do the names Ramsay and Oliver mean nothing to you?” Sean winked at April as he took his seat. “So, who wants to say grace?” “Since when have we ever said grace?” Chelsea asked, looking at her father with a slight look of disgust. Never in her life had she said grace and now, in what was an obvious attempt to show off to April and Matthew, Sean was insisting they conform to the traditions of everyone else. “Since today.” Sean said, shooting his daughter a stern stare. “I’ve decided it’s going to be our new tradition.” “Pass.” Chelsea picked up her bread roll and sliced it open with her knife before beginning to butter it. “Oh come on, Chess.” Sean pleaded, smiling at his daughter in the hopes of changing her mind. “Yeah, come on, Chelsea.” April said, agreeing with Sean. “I think it’s a great idea.” “And why doesn’t that surprise me?” Chelsea mumbled to herself under her breath as she rolled her eyes. Hearing Chelsea’s mumblings, April looked at Sean’s daughter out the corner of her eye. As hard as April tried, it was beginning to become clear that any hopes of the pair being friends was nothing but a fantasy. “Fine!” Chelsea groaned, dropping her roll down onto her bread plate in an admission of defeat. “I’ll say stupid grace.” As Sean, April and Matthew closed their eyes, Chelsea cleared her throat. “Grace.” She said before quickly picking up her bread roll again. “There, now can we eat?” “A proper one.” Sean hissed through gritted teeth. “Fine! Thank you God for this meal. It’s totally awesome and you totally rock. Amen.” Opening his eyes, Matthew bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks as he tried desperately to stop himself from breaking out in laughter. “Oh and P.S.” Chelsea continued, remembering something she’d forgotten to put on her Christmas list. “Next year can you please make dad get me the new Bergdorf bag. Amen...again.” Opening her eyes, Chelsea felt Sean’s fierce stare upon her. “What?” she shrugged at her father. “Let’s just eat, shall we?” Sean sighed as he began to carve the turkey, furious at Chelsea’s lack of respect and apparent bid to show off in front of Matthew. For a twenty-year-old woman she was behaving like a six-year-old and it left Sean both humiliated and furious. – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street Starting up the staircase to check if Jack wanted to join them for Christmas dinner, Isabelle gasped and clutched her chest tightly as she caught sight of Jack sitting silently atop the stairs. “You startled me.” Isabelle panted, regaining her composure as she continued up the stairs. “Sorry.” “What are you doing sitting here?” “Nothing.” Jack said quietly, his voice void of any emotion as he sat with his head still resting against the balustrade. Sitting beside Jack on the top step, Isabelle took her brothers hand in hers. “Are you going to come down and join us?” “Why?” Jack lifted his head and looked at Isabelle. “What’s there to celebrate?” Isabelle ran her tongue over her lips as she clambered to think of a good reply to Jack’s question. “You don’t have to celebrate anything,” she looked back at her brother. “But I’d like to see you eat something.” “I had a sandwich earlier.” “When?” “This morning.” Jack mumbled as he checked his watch. Isabelle sighed. She knew Jack hadn’t left the gust room all day but she didn’t want to cause an argument. “Jack…” “I’m not hungry, Belle, okay?” Jack snapped, quickly pulling his hand free from Isabelle’s loving grip and folding his arms before resting his head against the balustrade once again. “Okay.” Isabelle whispered to herself. She didn’t know what to do. Jack was drowning but nothing Isabelle said or did helped him, if anything, it made things worse. Letting out an exhausted sigh, Isabelle allowed the stilted conversation to disintegrate into an awkward silence. “Have you heard from mum today?” Jack mumbled in a barely audible tone as he heard Paige let out a raucous laugh from the living room. “No.” “Da…” Jack stopped before correcting himself. “Cabot?” “No.” Isabelle looked back at Jack. No matter how many times she told Jack he still was, and always would be, Cabot’s son, he refused to listen to her. “Nice to know we’re in their thoughts.” Jack said rather bitterly, surprised that Diana hadn’t returned since he threw her out. He’d been expecting the whole production – tears, screaming and begging – but instead there’d been nothing. Not a peep and even he had to admit it was a little disconcerting. “Well why don’t you give dad a call?” Isabelle said somewhat hesitantly, expecting a tongue lashing from Jack. “I can’t.” “Why?” Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his track pants, Jack pulled out the broken remnants of his cell phone and dropped them onto the step in front of Isabelle. “Apparently phones don’t like being thrown against walls.” “Oh Jack.” Isabelle sighed, covering her mouth with a hand as she shook her head. “Well, put the sim card in my phone and use that.” Jack sat in silence, ignoring Isabelle as he continued to stare off into space, willing his life away as he struggled to come to terms with the bombshell that had been dropped on him a few days ago. “You need to speak to him, Jack.” Isabelle rested a supportive hand on her brother’s shoulder. “You need to talk this through with him. You’re not the only one going through this. He’s lost a son don’t forget.” Jack looked back at Isabelle as his eyes beginning to burn with tears. “How can you seriously expect me to take advice from you when you won’t even talk to our mother in a civil tone?” Isabelle withdrew her hand from Jack’s shoulder and looked down at her lap. “That’s different. It’s complicated.” “What?” Jack scoffed with a narrow stare and a shake of his head. “Like my situation isn’t complicated.” “There’s more between mum and I than you know.” Isabelle said softly, painful memories of her childhood flooding back as she looked back into Jack’s eyes. Only she and Diana knew the real reason behind their falling out and today wasn’t an appropriate day to share all the details with Jack. “Oh please, Belle. If you expect me to speak to dad, you’ve got to speak to mum.” “Fine.” Isabelle sighed reluctantly. “If that’s what it’ll take to get you to call dad, I’ll speak to her.” Slightly taken aback by his sister’s agreement to speak to their mother Jack sat in silence for a moment. “So what really happened between you two?” “It doesn’t matter.” Isabelle shook her head, refusing to share with Jack what the true reason behind her falling out with Diana was. “Did she kill someone?” “No.” Isabelle smiled softly, amused that the thought of Diana killing someone would be much easier to overcome than the real reason of their bitter falling out. “Did she sleep with your boyfriend?” “No.” “Then it can’t be that bad can it?” Jack looked at Isabelle, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly to form a very weak smile. “Maybe its time to forgive and forget?” Isabelle looked down at her lap, processing Jack’s suggestion and in the process, missing his first smile in weeks. “You’ve only got one mother, Isabelle and no matter what she’s done in the past, underneath all that designer garb and thick makeup she slaps on her face is a heart full of love for you.” “And you.” Isabelle looked back at Jack as his smile faded. “You’ve always been her favourite.” Jack frowned and looked away, shaking his head in disagreement. “That’s not true.” Isabelle slid closer to her brother and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You were all she ever talked about. Ever since the day you were born it was ‘Jack this’ and ‘Jack that’.” Jack looked down at his hands as he nervously played with his fingers. “Yet all I ever heard her talk about was you, Belle.” He looked back into Isabelle’s eyes. “I remember sitting on the staircase one night when she was throwing one of those God-awful cocktail parties she used to throw every year and all she could keep talking to anyone about was you. You winning first place at the school talent show, you getting straight A’s, you taking up piano. She had so much love for you, Belle, and she still does. Whenever you’re not around you’re all she can talk about.” “Then why is she so mean to me?” Isabelle asked softly, her voice quivering with emotion as she struggled to understand just exactly what she’d done as a little girl that caused her mother to hate her so much. “She’s not being mean, Belle.” Jack said sincerely as he wiped a tear from his sister’s cheek. “She’s protecting herself. She’d rather keep you at arms length and let you hate her than have you be disappointed in her…again. I don’t know what she did, Belle, but believe me, she’s been paying for it every day since.” Isabelle removed her arm from around Jack’s shoulder and looked down at her lap once again. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” “Because I don’t know what happened between you two, but I realised it must’ve been something bad for your relationship to disintegrate to what it’s become.” With a deep sigh, Isabelle rose from her spot on the step. “Where are you going?” Jack asked as he watched Isabelle start down the stairs. “I’ve got see her.” Isabelle stopped and looked back at Jack. “Promise me you’ll call dad.” “I promise.” Jack said half heartedly as he drew a cross above his heart with his index finger. “‘Cause he is still your dad, Jack.” Isabelle said, wiping away her tears as she prepared herself to ho and see Diana. “I know.” Jack sighed, unconvinced that calling Cabot was the right thing to do. “I get that now.” As Isabelle turned and continued down the stairs, Jack rose to his feet and headed into Brock and Isabelle’s bedroom to collect Isabelle’s cell phone. – spencer street – The Lawson Residence 19 Spencer Street “And then the poor girl comes out and her hair is yellow! Not blonde, but yellow!” Laura laughed, still struggling to comprehend the mistake one of her trainee hairdressers had made at the salon yesterday as she picked up her glass of red wine and took a sip. “No!” Hazel gasped in disbelief as she sat at her uniquely decorated dining table and cut up her slice of turkey. Laura returned her glass of red wine to the table and picked up her knife and fork. “Seriously. I tell ya, I could’ve died. Just died.” “How’d you fix it?” Nick asked, stuffing a small portion of turkey into his mouth as he looked across the table towards Laura. “Well Gabby took her aside and worked her magic. Needless to say I didn’t think it was appropriate to charge for the cut and colour.” Miles sat at the head of the table, playing with the carrots and peas on his plate. “Well its good to see you’ve turned that business around.” He looked at Laura and smiled. “When that girl went mental the whole place just went down the drain.” “Nicole’s lovely and she didn’t go mental.” Laura said, correcting Miles. Although she’d only met Nicole on two occasions – both times at the psychiatric hospital when they were discussing plans for Laura to buy the salon from her – Laura could sense that underneath the crazy label everyone had given Nicole was a heart of gold and Laura was determined to befriend Nicole to prove a point to Spencer Street. “She had a breakdown.” “Breakdown, mental, at the end of the day they’re both crazy.” Miles said abruptly, forcing a forkful of peas, carrots, turkey and stuffing into his mouth. Hazel looked up from her Christmas lunch and shot her husband a cutting glare. “I’m actually thinking of offering her a job.” Laura announced, readying herself for the explosion of protests she was about to endure. “Oh what a lovely idea, Laura.” Hazel beamed at her daughter-in-law as she picked up her glass of white wine. “I think it’ll be a real comfort for her to know that there are some people out there supporting her.” “Well,” Laura smiled back at Hazel. “I think it’s the least I can do.” Suddenly the telephone began to ring. Hazel looked at the phone in silence, her heart in her mouth as she feared it was bad news about Mark. Jumping to his feet, Miles rushed into the living room and answered the call. “Hello? Oh, hello son.” He smiled with a slight sigh of relief. “How are ya?” Looking back into the dining room, Miles smiled at everyone and mouthed ‘It’s Mark’. “Yeah merry Christmas to you too. We’re just in the middle of lunch. Yeah of course, I’ll just get her for you.” Walking into the dining room, Miles handed Laura the cordless phone. “Hey baby!” Laura gushed, holding the phone to her ear as she spoke to her husband currently serving in Afghanistan. As Laura headed into the living room for a private chat with her husband, Miles took his seat at the table and noticed Hazel glaring back at him. “What?” “Mental?” Hazel snapped with an angry sigh. “Really Miles, sometimes you just have no idea.” “Well she was crazy.” Miles growled in reply, standing by his claim that due to her breakdown Nicole should be labelled as Mental. “Britney’s crazy and what does everyone call her? Mental!” “Oh really,” Hazel grumbled with a roll of her eyes and she slammed her glass of wine back down on the table. “What an absurd thing to say.” Sat in the middle of his parents little spat, Nick remained silent. He’d seen this scene play out more times than he cared to count and knew that the quieter he remained, the quicker the argument would fizzle out and normality would return…for a while, anyway. – spencer street – The Hudson Residence 21 Spencer Street As the Hudson and Goodwin family’s sat around the Hudson’s large oak dining table enjoying their Christmas lunch, Oliver picked up his Christmas cracker and held it out for Chloe to pull on the other end. “Ready?” he smiled at his fiancée. “One…two…” “Be nice if Sarah and Alex were here, wouldn’t it?” Margot smiled at Adam, trying to initiate some sort of conversation with Georgia’s difficult and somewhat anti-social brother. Adam looked at Margot and smiled before looking away, refusing to talk to Margot. “So, Nicole,” Elizabeth looked across the table and smiled at Nicole as she took a sip of her white wine, returning her glass to the table just as a loud crack from Oliver’s Christmas cracker echoed through the lively dining room. “Georgia tells me you committed yourself. What was that like?” The jovial atmosphere in the dining room immediately fell flat as the room fell silent, everyone as shocked as the next that Elizabeth had asked Nicole such a direct and rude question. “Mother!” Georgia hissed, mortified at Elizabeth’s question. Smiling politely, Nicole placed her knife and fork down on the table and looked back at Elizabeth. “It’s okay, Georgia. Um…it was difficult. I wasn’t well, mentally, but it was what I needed.” “And your thoughts on Jesus?” Elizabeth enquired, probing Nicole further. “Mother enough!” Georgia snarled, horrified that Elizabeth felt it necessary to ask Nicole such disrespectful questions. “I don’t know what you mean.” Nicole frowned at Elizabeth. She didn’t understand what Elizabeth meant and judging by the looks on everyone else’s faces, neither did they. “Oh never mind, dear.” Elizabeth smiled at Nicole. “It’s just good to know that you’re feeling better. And didn’t you have a young baby? A little lad?” “Anyone for more turkey?” Calvin asked, quickly jumping from his seat in the desperate attempt to spare Nicole from any further humiliating questioning. Looking around the table as everyone resumed easting their Christmas lunch, Nicole locked eyes with Grace. As her grandmother gave her a reassuring and supportive smile, Nicole breathed a silent sigh of relief that everyone appeared to be on her side. “Chloe, love,” Margot began, “could you pass me the carrots please.” Picking up the large bowl of honey and sesame carrots, Chloe passed the bowl to Margot. “Oh what a gorgeous ring.” Margot gasped, catching sight of the large diamond and white gold ring on Chloe’s right hand. “Thank you.” Chloe smiled awkwardly, quickly pulling her hand away and hiding it under the table to spare herself any further comments or questioning about the nature of such an expensive ring. “Oh Oliver,” Margot gushed to her grandson as she piled some more carrots onto her plate. “What a gorgeous Christmas gift.” “It’s actually an enga-” “Eternity ring.” Chloe quickly interrupted Oliver, realising he was about to say something they’d both agreed to keep quiet until after Christmas. Everyone at the table fell silent as they realised what Oliver was about to say. “It certainly doesn’t look like an eternity ring.” Elizabeth commented with a mischievous grin as she took yet another sip of her wine. “That’s probably ‘cause its not.” Oliver cleared his throat and, resting his hand on Chloe’s, looked at his beautiful fiancée and smiled. “It’s an engagement ring. We’re getting married.” “Oh congratulations!” Margot squealed with delight as everyone around the table chatted amongst themselves at the exciting news. Slowly sliding her hand free from Oliver’s, Chloe looked down at her plate, furious with Oliver dor going against her wishes and telling everyone their news. “Congratulations, darling.” Georgia leaned across the table and rested a hand on her son’s. “About time you two got your act together.” Elizabeth winked at Oliver, taking another sip of wine, this time emptying her glass. Rising from his seat, Calvin walked around to Oliver’s seat. “Congratulations son.” He beamed, shaking Oliver’s hand before giving his son a loving hug. “Cheers dad.” “Congratulations, sweetheart.” Georgia smiled sweetly at Chloe as she lifted her head and smiled politely at everyone. Sat opposite her sister, Nicole looked across the table at Chloe and as their eyes met she soon sensed that Chloe wasn’t as excited about the engagement as everyone else. The two sisters sat in silence, looking into eachother’s eyes, both knowing that Chloe was less than pleased with Oliver for announcing the news and both knowing that Chloe felt as if she was making a dreadful mistake. “Nicole aren’t you going to congratulate them?” Grace asked her granddaughter as she watched both Nicole and Chloe sit in silence staring at eachother. “I think I’ll wait and see how it goes.” Nicole replied softly. The dining room fell silent once again as all eyes fell upon Nicole. Leaning forward, Elizabeth reached across the table and rested her hand on Nicole’s. “This is good news, dear.” She said loudly and slowly as if she were speaking to someone that didn’t understand English. “You say congratulations.” Pulling her hand free from Elizabeth’s grip, Nicole glared back at Georgia’s mother with a cold stare. “Like I said, I’ll see how it goes.” Sitting back in her chair, Elizabeth leaned in closer to Adam. “And they say those loony bins help these type of people.” She said rather loudly. “Poor dear doesn’t know her back from her front.” Nicole’s mouth slowly opened wider and her eyes narrowed as Elizabeth’s rude remark rang in her ears. “Mother can I see you in the kitchen please?” Georgia barked, grabbing her mother by the arm and pulling her up from her seat before frogmarching her into the kitchen. “So, anyone for seconds?” Calvin smiled at those still gathered around the table, trying to lighten the mood. “Chuck us some more turkey, Cal.” Adam winked at Calvin as he passed his plate down the table for seconds. His grip tightening on the knife, Calvin looked at Margot and pursed his lips tightly together. Holding a napkin over her mouth, Margot tried to hide her amusement at Calvin’s pain, but it was no good. She couldn’t help but laugh. Margot knew that the only reason Adam kept calling Calvin Cal was because Adam saw how much it irritated Calvin, but while it was still amusing her and nothing but a light-hearted joke, Margot saw little point in putting a stop to Adam’s innocent teasing. “I’m sorry.” Oliver smiled at Chloe as he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed it softly. “It just kind of slipped out.” “It’s okay.” Chloe lied with a smile. “It’s probably best everyone knows anyway.” “I love you.” Oliver said, kissing Chloe tenderly on the lips. “I love you too.” Watching Chloe and Oliver kiss, Nicole sat in silence. – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street “Everything okay?” Brock smiled at Isabelle as she re-entered the living room following her chat with Jack on the stairs. Curling her wavy blonde hair behind her ears, Isabelle hurried about the living room, frantically searching as if she’d lost something. “Yeah.” Brock rose from his seat and walked across the living room towards Isabelle as she searched frantically through the sideboard. “What are you looking for?” “Um, a brown box.” Isabelle looked back at Brock. “You haven’t seen it anywhere have you?” “There’s one in the kitchen.” “Great, thanks.” Isabelle smiled before hurrying off into the kitchen and returning a few seconds later with a brown rectangular box, no bigger than a DVD case, in her hands. Snatching her oversized black Gucci handbag from the bag of the computer chair, Isabelle slipped it over her shoulder and grabbed her car keys from atop the sideboard. “Where are you going?” Brock asked puzzled as he watched Isabelle hurry about the living room like a bee on speed. Hamish and Paige sat in silence, watching Isabelle frantically tear around the living room collecting her belongings while Brock followed close behind in a seemingly confused hysteria. “Out.” Isabelle replied bluntly as if there were no time for details. Brock stopped and watched Isabelle hurry towards the front door. “But we’re about to have dinner.” “There’s something I’ve got to do.” Isabelle called back as she snatched her coat from the coat stand and opened the front door. “Belle?” The front door slammed shut as Brock watched Isabelle whiz past the window and head for her car. “Belle?” Brock called out again as he ran for the front door and stepped out into the cold air as Isabelle reversed out of the driveway and sped off down Spencer Street as if she were driving in the Formula One. As Paige and Hamish sat in a confused and dumbfounded silence, the unmistakable sound of Hamish’s Fall Out Boy ringtone began to play. Removing his phone from the pocket of his jeans, Hamish glanced at the number. “Excuse me for a moment.” He smiled sheepishly at Paige before quickly heading into the kitchen. “Not now, okay?” Hamish snarled quietly to the person on the other end of the phone as Paige appeared in the kitchen doorway. “No! I said not now!” Quickly ending the mysterious call, Hamish stuffed his phone back into his pocket and spun around to see Paige staring back at him. “Who was that?” She asked with arms folded across her chest in preparation for the number of lies and excuses Hamish was undoubtedly going to feed her. Hamish shook his head. “No one.” “It didn’t sound like no one.” “So you’re eavesdropping on my telephone conversations now?” “Hamish, I wasn’t…” “It was no one, okay, Paige?!” Hamish roared, furious that Paige felt it necessary to stick her nose in. “Now just please, drop it.” As Hamish stormed past her back into the living room, Paige slowly turned and watched her best friend, worried that for the first time in their entire friendship he was lying to her. – – – – Stood out on his snow-capped balcony, Holden closed his black Nokia 6600 fold and tapped it against his chin as a wicked grin slinked its way across his face. – spencer street – The Hudson Residence 21 Spencer Street As the Goodwin and Hudson families gathered around the Christmas tree in the living room to exchange gifts, Adam stood alone in the kitchen scrolling through the contacts in his phone. Settling on a number, the mysterious ruffian held the stylish, and possibly stolen, cell phone to his ear and waited for the person on the other end to answer. “Merry Christmas!” Adam said quietly with a bright smile as the person on the other end answered his call. “I’m good, how are you? Yeah good, I just thought I’d call in and see how you were doing. Oh, you know, pretty boring.” As he slowly paced around the kitchen, his voice quiet enough so no one in the next room could hear, Adam stopped. “Anyone mentioned you?” He repeated the mystery persons question with a frown. “Well…I, er, I don’t know how to say this, Sarah, but, um…well, I did overhear your parents saying something, but I don’t think…” Adam paused as Sarah said something to him. “They said it was nicer without here this year. Less drama and whatnot.” A cold smile settled across Adam’s face as he listened to a devastated Sarah on the other end. “I didn’t want to say anything, but…I’m sure they didn’t mean it. No, no one really talks about you much at all anymore. Oh okay.” Adam said, feigning surprise as Sarah announced she had to go. “Well I’ll let you go and I’ll call you back later tonight? Okay. Yeah, you too. Okay, ‘bye.” “Anyone important?” Margot asked politely as she entered the kitchen with a tray full of empty coffee mugs. Startled by Margot’s appearance, Adam quickly stuffed his cell phone into his pocket and looked back at Margot. “Just a friend.” Stood at the kitchen counter, Margot loaded the dirty coffee mugs into the dishwasher. “And you have friends?” she looked back at Adam, remembering what Calvin had told her earlier in the day. “I beg your pardon!” “I don’t mean that in an awful way, Adam.” Margot back peddled, sensing she’d got Adam’s back up. “It’s just that Calvin said …” Stepping closer to Margot, Adam leaned in, his face just inches from Margot’s, and coldly stared into her eyes. “Yeah well Calvin doesn’t know everything that goes on under his roof, Margot,” he snarled, sending a shiver down Margot’s spine. “So you should probably keep your opinions and comments to yourself in future. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got presents to unwrap.” As Adam walked out of the kitchen to join his family in the living room, Margot stood in silence, slightly shaken by the confrontation she’d just experienced. – – – – – As the Hudson’s and Goodwin’s gathered in the living room to exchange gifts, Grace held a hand to her forehead as she suddenly remembered she’d forgotten something. “Oh Nicole, I’ve forgot the gift for Calvin and Georgia. Would you mind popping back and collecting it for me?” The kind-hearted matriarch asked her granddaughter in a soft voice. “Sure.” “Thank you, sweetheart.” Grace smiled at Nicole as she quietly slipped out of the living room without being noticed. Assuming his traditional duties as Christmas present distributor, Calvin drew the first gift from underneath the twinkling Christmas tree and scanned the nametag. “To Adam from mum.” Entering the living room from the kitchen, Adam stepped forward and collected his gift from Calvin before turning and planting a sweet kiss on Elizabeth’s cheek. “Thanks, mum.” “I hope you like it, darling.” Elizabeth smiled in reply. “If you don’t I’ll just take it back and exchange it for something else.” As Margot re-enters the living room, Adam looked at the Hudson matriarch and narrowed his stare. “Next we have…” Calvin reached under the tree again and this time picked up a rather large present wrapped perfectly in festive paper and red ribbon. “To Oliver from mum and dad.” – spencer street – Imperial Suite, Hotel Ritz Paris, France Staring out of the towering French doors of his luxurious hotel suite, Cabot watched on in silence as a fresh blanket of snow fell over Paris. Pairs at Christmas time was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen in his life and it was also both he and Diana’s favourite time of year to visit their favourite city. But as he stood alone inside his grand, almost nauseatingly luxurious, hotel suite, Cabot didn’t want to be anywhere else but back home in Somerset. His family was crumbling around him and while he wanted nothing more than to be back there with them, he had to stay in Paris and finalise the deal with his new investor. Turning his back on the magnificent views across a snow covered Paris; Cabot walked over to the marble topped coffee table and collected his cell phone. Scrolling through the thousands of numbers in his phonebook, the fashion mogul settled upon Jack’s number. Looking down at his son’s number, Cabot hesitated. What was he going to say to Jack if he answered? Jack had made his feelings pretty clear following the revelation that Cabot wasn’t his biological father and the last thing Cabot wanted to do right now was make things any worse. Throwing his phone onto his bed, Cabot ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Pacing back and forth across his large hotel suite, Calvin let out a deep, frustrated sigh. Stopping, Cabot looked at his cell phone lying in the middle of his large king sized bed. Picking his phone up once again, Cabot quickly dialled in a number and held the small silver Nokia to his ear. “It’s me.” He smiled. “Are you home? I need to see you.” Listening to the sweet voice on the other end of the line, a mischievous grin quickly slid across Cabot’s face before he bit down on his bottom lip. “Great. I’ll be there in ten.” Ending the call, Cabot placed his cell phone down on the sideboard and quickly checked his appearance one last time in the large gold plated mirror above the sideboard before grabbing his wallet from the coffee table and swiftly walking out of his suite. As the door to Cabot’s room clicked closed, his cell phone began to ring and vibrate on the sideboard. Jack calling. – spencer street – The Goodwin Residence 23 Spencer Street Unlocking the Goodwin’s large solid oak front door, Nicole stepped out of the freezing, sub zero temperatures that crippled Somerset in the early evening and into the warmth of the large foyer of her family home. Flicking the switch on the lights, Nicole walked into the living room and immediately spotted Grace’s Christmas gift to Calvin and Georgia sitting idly and alone under the Christmas tree. Collecting the neatly wrapped gift, Nicole tucked it under her arm and turned to leave when she caught sight of a photograph on the mantelpiece. Slowly walking towards the fireplace, Nicole carefully picked up the framed photograph and held it in her hands. Looking down at the photograph of the Goodwin family shortly after Charlie’s birth, Nicole’s eyes quickly began to burn with tears. Everyone looked so happy. Softly running an index finger over the glass covering the photograph, Nicole looked at Connor and Charlie and then her mother. “Merry Christmas.” Nicole whispered softly before quickly wiping away a tear. Returning the photograph to the mantel, Nicole sniffed back her tears and checked her appearance in the large mirror hung above the fireplace. Turning out the lights, Nicole walked out of the Goodwin’s and swiftly returned to the festivities at the Hudson’s. – spencer street – The Sinclair Residence 25 Spencer Street Alone in the modern oak and stainless steel kitchen of the Sinclair home, April stood at the kitchen sink staring blankly out into the snow covered back garden, her mind a million miles away. Suddenly her cell phone began to beep and vibrate on the kitchen countertop beside her. Collecting the sleek black Samsung handset, April’s eyes scanned the text message she’d just received. Merry Christmas. Ronan xx. “Who’s that from?” Chelsea asked rather nosily as she entered the kitchen, her hands conspicuously hidden behind her back as she marched across the kitchen and took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen bench. “Oh no one important.” April lied, quickly deleting the message from Ronan and returning her phone to the kitchen countertop. “Just one of the nurses from work wishing me a happy Christmas.” “Cute.” Chelsea said sarcastically with a smile. Not for a second did she believe the message was from a friend from work, but she was willing to let it slide. She was here to make amends with April, not cause any more problems. “April, I’ve been doing some thinking about what you said the other day.” Turning, April leant against the kitchen countertop and looked back at Chelsea, surprised Sean’s daughter was going to make the first move to break the stalemate. Chelsea cleared her throat and looked into April’s eyes. April had better appreciate this, Chelsea thought to herself. Never in her life had Chelsea made the first move in smoothing over things with an enemy, but for the sake of Sean and April’s relationship, she realised she’d have to make an exception this time. Chelsea loved her father and wanted nothing more than to see him happy and if April was the one that made him happy, then she would just have to swallow her pride and deal with it. “And I get that you’re trying to protect me.” Impressed with Chelsea’s actions, April smiled softly at Chelsea and slowly walked towards her. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.” “I know and I was way out of line with the things I said to you. So I’m sorry.” “Apology accepted.” April smiled in reply. Removing her hands from behind her back, Chelsea placed a small wrapped gift on the kitchen countertop. “I, ah…I also got you this.” “Oh, Chelsea,” April gasped, surprised that Chelsea had actually taken the time to go an find her a gift. “There was no need.” “No, I wanted too.” Chelsea smiled at April, enjoying that she and her dad’s girlfriend could have a conversation without tearing strips off eachother. “You’re apart of dad’s life now and so that means you’re apart of mine. I think we should try and get on…and who knows, I might actually start to like you.” April smiled broadly at Chelsea, enjoying the fact that they were now seemingly at a place where they could joke with eachother. Picking up the small gift, April quickly unwrapped it to reveal a bottle of the Kylie Minogue fragrance, Sweet Darling. “Oh, Chelsea.” “Its not much, I know, but…” “Its perfect.” April looked at Chelsea and smiled. “How’d you know it was my favourite?” Chelsea shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thoughts of searching through her father’s bedroom quickly returning to haunt her. “I had a bit of a snoop around in yours and dad’s bedroom and, ah, yeah…the less said about that emotionally scarring experience the better.” As she sprayed some of the sweet fragrance on her neck, April laughed at Chelsea’s last comment, although a small part of her was slightly embarrassed about what Chelsea might’ve found. “So can we call a truce?” “Of course.” April placed the small bottle of fragrance down on the kitchen countertop before giving Chelsea a quick hug. Parting, Chelsea rubbed her hands nervously on the thighs of her jeans. “Oh and, ah, I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t tell dad…just not yet. I’m working on it.” “Sure.” April smiled and nodded, going against her better judgement. “Whatever you want.” “Are you two planning on joining us at all today?” Sean asked with one of his trademark grins as he and Matthew appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Looking back over her shoulder at her father, Chelsea rolled her eyes. “We were just having a girl-to-girl talk.” “It’s exactly those kind of talks that scare me.” Sean replied. “Fine!” Chelsea groaned, sliding off the stool before heading across the kitchen to join her father on his way to the living room. “I’m coming!” As Sean and Chelsea disappeared down the hallway on their way to watch the EastEnders Christmas episode, April turned her back on Matthew and looked back out the small window that overlooked the garden. Matthew gingerly made his way into the kitchen, sensing April was less than pleased with him for some reason. “Is everything okay?” “You have to tell her, Matt.” April turned back around and looked at her brother, her warm and friendly smile replaced with a serious and stern scowl. “No.” Matthew shook his head, refusing to give into April’s demands and tell Chelsea the truth. “Absolutely not.” “You have to!” April snarled, careful to keep her voice down so Sean or Chelsea wouldn’t hear as she stormed towards her brother. “The poor girl’s head over heels and she has a right to know.” Matthew folded his arms across his chest as his stare narrowed. “It’s not that simple, April. You more than anyone should know that.” “If you don’t tell her, Matthew, I will.” “Just back off, April.” Matthew snarled, his voice cold and threatening as he grabbed hold of April’s forearm with a strong grip. “You have no right to be interfering in this.” “She’s Sean’s daughter.” April squirmed, pulling her arm free from Matthew’s crippling hold. “And?” “And what you’re doing is…” “April, Matt, come on, EastEnders is about to start!” Came Sean’s booming calls from the living room as the iconic doof doof theme tune of the London based soap began to echo through into the kitchen. “Just back off, April” Matthew roared in a soft voice as he started to turn and walk out of the kitchen. “Let me deal with this in my own time.” – spencer street – Room 124 Golden Meadows Motor Inn With the opening credits of EastEnders finishing, Diana, reclining on her lumpy and stained double bed, settled in for an action packed Christmas episode of her guilty little pleasure. There came a knock at the door. Diana let out an aggravated groan as she reluctantly rose from her comfortable position on the bed and walked across the small, badly decorated and stale smelling motel room. “Isabelle?” Diana said with a surprised tone as she opened the door to see her daughter standing before her. Isabelle smiled at Diana. “Merry Christmas, mother.” “What are you…? I don’t…? What…?” “Here, this is for you.” Isabelle said as she stepped forward and handed her mother the small brown box she’d brought with her. “I didn’t wrap it because I wasn’t sure if I was even going to give it to you until fifteen minutes ago.” Looking down at the small box, Diana frowned. She didn’t understand what she’d done to deserve this. Looking back at Isabelle, Diana didn’t know what to say. “But you hate me.” “You’re my mother, I could never hate you.” Isabelle smiled, deciding while she was talking to Jack that today was as better day as any to bury the hatchet with her mother. “Dislike you immensely, yes, but hate you, never.” Diana was dumbstruck. Isabelle’s visit had caught her completely off guard and she didn’t know what to make of it all. “But you and Jack…” “Mother, just accept the gift. I’m trying to do something nice here and you’re making it extremely difficult.” “I’m sorry.” Diana smiled, her hands trembling slightly. Stood there, in front of Isabelle in nothing but a pair of track pants and an oversized sweater, Diana suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. Having noticed her mothers attire, but choosing not to say anything, Isabelle cleared her throat. “I was, um…I was wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner. There’s only me, Brock, Jack, Hamish and Paige, so there’s plenty to go around and…” “No,” Diana politely refused with a shake of her head. “I don’t think that’d be appropriate. Not after what Jack said yesterday.” “Oh don’t listen to Jack,” Isabelle sighed. “He’s not thinking straight at the moment. He didn’t mean what he said.” “No, really, I’ll be fine. There’s some champagne and chocolates in the mini bar, it’s not a turkey, but at least its something.” Isabelle suddenly realised she was going into battle against her mother’s notorious stubborn side – a battle she’d yet to win. “Mother,” Isabelle curled her hair behind her ears before crossing her arms as she settled in for a fierce battle. “No one should be alone at Christmas…especially not when your family’s only twenty minutes away.” “Oh I’m not alone, darling,” Diana lied, putting on a brave face. “The television’s all the company I need. Besides, I can’t miss EastEnders…have you seen the advert?” Isabelle, abandoning her attempts at convincing her mother to join her for Christmas dinner, smiled. “I really can’t persuade you?” “Really, darling, I’ll be fine. But thank you for the offer.” “Well at least tell me you’ll move back into Jack’s.” “What?” Diana frowned, almost laughing at Isabelle’s suggestion. Had she completely lost her mind? It was only yesterday Jack was telling Diana he never wanted to see her again and here was Isabelle trying to persuade her to move into Jack’s home. Was she smoking crack? “You can’t possibly stay here.” Isabelle looked around the corridor of Diana’s motel with a look of disgust. The disgusting motel was more shabby shit than shabby chic and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. The grey carpet of the corridor was discoloured and covered in stains, the windows looked like they hadn’t been cleaned by the seventies, there was cobwebs in every corner and Isabelle was convinced she’d see what could only be described as a rat on steroids scurry past her when she’d first arrived. Looking over Diana’s shoulder into her room, Isabelle was even more horrified by how disgusting the rooms looked. “This place is barely fit for cockroaches to live in, let alone humans.” “It’s not that bad really.” Diana said as she looked around the corridor, herself not believing the words that came from her mouth. “Are you feeling okay?” Isabelle frowned at her mother, convinced she must’ve had a stroke or something to think that this place was not that bad. “The Diana Miller is seriously telling me that she doesn’t mind staying in a crappy, rundown motel; the likes of which Norman Bates would’ve been proud of?” “Isabelle, really…” “I’ll stop by first thing in the morning and take you back to Jack’s.” Isabelle began, not giving her mother a chance to protest or think. “He’s staying with us until he’s feeling better so you’ll have the place to yourself for a couple of weeks and who knows, being just a few doors away might give you both a chance to talk some things through or something.” “Okay.” Diana smiled at her daughter; overwhelmed that Isabelle had had such a sudden and drastic change of heart. “Great.” Isabelle smiled, clutching her handbag tighter as she saw something scurry past out the corner of her eye. “So I’ll stop by about 7.30?” “Sure.” Stepping forward, Isabelle kissed Diana on the cheek and hugged her. “Merry Christmas, mother.” “Merry Christmas, darling.” Diana replied, surrendering herself to Isabelle’s hug. It had been so long since they’d hugged that Diana wanted to breakdown in tears. Never in her life had she been as happy as she was right now. Parting, Isabelle smiled one last time at her mother before turning and walking away down the corridor. As Isabelle disappeared from sight Diana carefully opened the small rectangular shaped brown box in her hands. Looking at Isabelle’s gift, Diana gasped in wonder as her eyes quickly filled with tears. It was a framed photograph of Diana with Isabelle and Jack when they were little children. Her eyes filling with tears, Diana smiled to herself, hopeful that this was the new beginning she’d longed for and that things were finally looking better for the Miller’s. |