Zara Stoneley - No One Cancels Christmas

She didn’t wear perfume, so there was no lingering smell of lavender or Chanel N°5 to give me a part of her back. She didn’t even leave a discarded jumper, or treasured trinket. Life isn’t always like they tell it in the movies. There was nothing; no part of her for me to hold on to, except for the sound of her laughter and a hazy memory of her big, green eyes.

It had been my last Christmas with Mum and Dad, my first with Auntie Lynn.

We’d spent another week there. Just the two of us. I’d been bewildered, feeling lost, waiting for my parents to appear at the door and for everything to go back to normal. They didn’t.

Mum would never be able to go back anywhere now, she was sleeping with the stars. And Dad? Well, as far as I was concerned, my dad no longer existed.

That Christmas we’d spent our days building snowmen, walking in the snow, patting the huskies and feeding the reindeer. And in the evenings we’d curl up together in the log cabin, staring into the flames and making wishes. The same wishes I’d carried on making for years afterwards. Until I realised wishes never come true anyway.

I blink away the past and ignore the one tiny tear that manages to squeeze its way past my defences.

‘It doesn’t matter. That’s not the point, is it?’

Sam is frowning at me and doesn’t look convinced, so I ignore her and tap away on my keyboard, which means I can brush away the dampness on my cheek without her noticing.

‘But what about Lynn? You always spend Christmas together.’

Sam is right again. Ever since that one in the Shooting Star Mountain Resort, Aunt Lynn and I have spent every Christmas together. She’s my family, my whole family, the only one I’ve got, and she’s amazing.

I love Auntie Lynn. Totally. If it hadn’t been for her my life would have worked out totally differently. I would be an insecure, unloved mess and I would also be totally boring and bored. Auntie Lynn has brought me up with cuddles and creativity, and she has taught me that being the only guardian at parents’ evening with striped hair and questions about what I thought rather than what the teacher thought is something to be celebrated, not be ashamed of.

‘But I’m not going for actual Christmas.’ No way do I want to spend Christmas there ever again. Even if the place had still been perfect (which it certainly isn’t), I don’t think I could face that. ‘I’ll go just before, or after. Actually, now might be a good time.’ No time like the present. ‘I could try and get some of it sorted before he has chance to ruin Christmas for another load of people. One more bad Christmas could finish the place off for good. I am not going to let him screw up like this: no one cancels Christmas!’

‘But you can’t just up and leave me!’

‘I’m not leaving you on your own. I’ll have to clear it with Aunt Lynn, but she did say a while ago that she thought maybe we should start to visit places again. She’s thinking of taking a temp on to cover here, so that we can get out more. You’d get to go to places too.’ I give her a sideways glance. ‘She knows you want to travel.’

Sam goes bright red. She thinks she’s hidden the way she feels, but she is one of those people who just can’t hide their feelings – they’re written all over her face. She’s changed in a good way, lately, especially after she got over her tosspot two-timing ex, and met her dishy boyfriend Jake. It’s been obvious that she’s come out stronger. She’s still the funny girl I love, but she’s now much more determined to live the life she wants. And she wants more than just sitting in a goldfish bowl in the high street.

‘Lynn doesn’t want to lose you, Sam. I don’t either.’ I can’t imagine life without Sam. We’re totally different, but we just get on. She’s giving me a look, like she might hug me, and I can’t cope with hugs right now. ‘Hang on, this will timeout if I don’t complete the booking.’

‘Leave it.’ She tugs at my chair again so that I can’t reach the keyboard. ‘Come on, they aren’t exactly going to get booked up if you leave it a few minutes, are they? And don’t you need to check dates first?’

‘I can provisionally book.’ Not that there is much need – there is availability on every date I look at. ‘Then I can call Aunt Lynn.’ Sam doesn’t like the impulsive side of my character, it makes her uncomfortable. She likes to know where she stands, whereas I – with my wobbly past – tend to view each day as a new challenge. And right now, locking horns with Mr Armstrong in the Canadian Rockies sounds like a good diversion.

‘Why don’t you call her now?’

‘Okay, okay, I’ll talk to her first if it makes you happy.’ Sam does have a point, but it’s a quiet time and I’m sure my aunt will be more than happy to cover for me for a few days; she likes to ‘keep her finger on the pulse’, as she puts it.

‘It does make me happy.’

So I dial out on the office phone and put it on speakerphone so that Sam will be in no doubt at all to Lynn’s response – even though I know she will like this idea. She says travel broadens the mind and shrinks the butt. She will definitely like this idea.

‘Aunt Lynn?’

‘Oh, I’m glad you rang, dear.’ She says this as though we never talk, whereas we talk at least once a day. ‘I wanted a little chat.’

Sam raises an eyebrow, and I half wish I hadn’t put Lynn on speakerphone.

‘I’m a bit tied up at the moment,’ she does sound distracted, ‘but come for a spot of coffee and cake.’ I stare at the phone, then glance at Sam, who is doing an ‘I haven’t a clue’ gesture.

‘Er, fine. It’s just I wanted to—’

‘Will it keep until Wednesday, dear?’

She sounds as if she’s not really listening anyway, so I nod, even though she can’t see me. ‘Sure.’ What difference will a couple of days make? ‘Or tomorrow?’

‘Oh no dear, I’ve got Hedgehog Rescue tomorrow, had you forgotten?’

There’s the tiniest note of reproach in her voice. How could I forget Hedgehog Rescue? Not to mention Purrfect Cat Rescue, Sanitary Towels for the Homeless, and Baby in a Box. That last one did worry me a bit, until I researched and found out it was a care pack for newborns. The image in my head hasn’t changed, though: the perfect next day delivery service for the childless.

Aunt Lynn believes in paying it forward, and because she is so nice people shower her with little acts of kindness. There is, therefore, a lot of paying forward to be done.

‘It’s the big weigh in, followed by a hog roast.’

‘That sounds vaguely inappropriate.’

She laughs, a hearty belly laugh. ‘Oh, get you! We can have a good catch up, and I’ll tell you all about my plans.’

‘Plans?’ That sounds ominous.

‘Shall we say three o’clock, then?’

She is obviously not going to enlighten me. Although with Aunt Lynn there is never a need to rush, and she is the least inquisitive person I know. If somebody says they’ve got something to tell me, I will mull it over, dissect the tone of their voice, list all the possible reasons, worry. Lynn will forget about it. ‘Sure, if you can’t—’

‘Rushed off my feet, darling! Oh dear, oh dear, I really have to go.’

‘Shall I bring cake?’

‘No, no.’

‘It’s no bother, I can grab some from the café across the road?’

‘Just bring yourself, dear. Take the afternoon off, I’m sure Sammy can cope. Now, I really am going to have to rush, Lionel is dangling from the chandelier, he’s so adventurous!’

Sam splutters biscuit crumbs in all directions, and I shout ‘bye’ and slam a finger hard on the end call button, as though it will disconnect it quicker.