A Proper Family Christmas (26 page)

‘We did,’ said Annabel.

‘And how did they react?’

‘I think they probably need a bit of time to take it all in.’

‘They reacted badly,’ Izzy translated.

‘No,’ said Richard cautiously. ‘I wouldn’t say that. It’s just like your mother said. They’re going to need a bit of time to take on board what we’ve actually asked them. It’s not a small thing, Izzy.’

‘I know.’

Back at Ronnie’s house, the Benson family were indeed struggling to take Annabel and Richard’s request on board. Jacqui and Dave helped Ronnie and Mark put the wrecked bedroom straight, then they all settled down in the living room to go over the lunch’s events. Mark broke out his special supply of Spitfire to lubricate the debate. Granddad Bill accepted one gratefully.

‘I’ve won the bloody lottery,’ he said as he raised the bottle in a toast.

‘I wish you bloody had,’ said Ronnie.

‘Don’t say bloody!’ Jack chimed.

‘It’s a bloody sort of day.’

Jack hopped around the room, mouth open, looking scandalised at all the language. Meanwhile, Fishy curled up on Ronnie’s lap and allowed herself to be consoled.

‘Poor thing. It’s a wonder she didn’t have a heart attack. And my lovely curtains,’ Ronnie muttered.

‘Richard and Annabel have said they’ll replace them,’ Jacqui pointed out.

‘They would say that, wouldn’t they? They want one of us to give them a kidney!’

Jacqui looked in Jack’s direction. This was not a conversation for little ears. Not yet.

‘Jack,’ said Ronnie. ‘Go and play Minecraft.’

‘You said I couldn’t play it today,’ he replied.

Jack had spent so long playing the game the previous day, his eyes had started to look like Minecraft blocks.

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ said Ronnie. ‘You can play it in our room.’

‘I’ve won the bloody lottery!’ said Jack.

He rushed to carry the Xbox up to his parents’ bedroom before Ronnie had time to clip him round the ear.

With Jack otherwise occupied, the debate continued. Sophie was considered old enough to be included.

‘Are you going to do it, Mum?’ Ronnie asked Jacqui. ‘Are you going to be tested?’

Jacqui nodded. ‘Of course I am. We both are, aren’t we, Dave?’

Dave’s eyes widened as he took another gulp from his bottle of beer.

‘Dave,’ said Jacqui. ‘Izzy is our granddaughter. We’d do the same if Sophie had eaten something that made her ill.’

Knowing the truth about how Izzy had come to damage her kidneys, Sophie looked down at her hands to hide the look in her eyes. ‘Thanks, Gran,’ she said. ‘I know you would.’

By the time Dave had finished his beer, Jacqui had persuaded him that they should both be tested right away. Jacqui called Annabel on her mobile and spoke to her before the Buchanans were even home.

‘Thank you, thank you,’ said Annabel. ‘It’s so good of you. But you’ve got to want to do it. I really don’t want you to put yourselves out.’

‘We wouldn’t be putting ourselves out, love. We’d do anything for our Izzy.’

The word ‘our’ made Annabel wince. How quickly Jacqui had appropriated Izzy as her granddaughter. It made Annabel feel fiercely protective of her mum, who had been a real grandmother, turning up to stay for a month when Izzy was a newborn, making sure that Annabel was able to keep an even keel during those awful early weeks when Izzy would neither sleep nor feed when Annabel wanted her to. Annabel knew she would have gone stark staring mad without Sarah. But it was because Jacqui claimed Izzy as one of her own that she was willing to be tested for her. Annabel had to be grateful for that.

‘Can you put Izzy on the phone?’ Jacqui asked.

‘She’s asleep in the back of the car,’ Annabel lied.

‘Well, tell her that her Grandma Jacqui sends her love. And her Grandpa Dave too. We hope we’ll see you all very soon. You, Richard, Izzy and the Bump! I can’t believe you’re having a baby!’

‘Me neither,’ Annabel said.

Chelsea wasn’t at Sunday lunch at Ronnie’s house so she wasn’t there when Richard and Annabel asked for help. She got the news via Ronnie, who had called her younger sister as soon as their parents had left to go home. Ronnie was full of excitement and not a little outrage. Not least because of her wrecked curtains.

‘But we should have guessed! No wonder she wanted to get to know us. I knew they had an ulterior motive. Didn’t I tell you?’

It was painful for Chelsea to recall how excited her mother in particular had been that Annabel seemed so keen to be part of the family when it should have been obvious that Annabel’s decision to embrace her new family so quickly was motivated by something other than a desire to connect with her roots.

‘Spare parts is what they want us for. That’s the beginning and the end of it,’ Ronnie ranted.

‘Ronnie,’ said Chelsea. ‘Their daughter is ill. Cut the Buchanans some slack.’

‘You should have seen the way Annabel looked at her dinner, Chelsea. She hardly ate a thing. I slaved over that roast from eight o’clock this morning.’

‘Perhaps she was nervous about what she had to say.’

‘Or perhaps it was because … you’ll never guess?’

‘What?’

‘She’s only having a baby! At her age! That’s why she can’t give Izzy a kidney herself. Mum is over the moon of course. That’s far bigger news to her than the fact that Annabel wants our organs. She’s getting another new grandchild. She’s like the cat that got the cream.’

Chelsea could imagine how that had played with Ronnie. She was grateful when she was able to cut short the conversation because Adam was at the door.

Adam had swung by, with Lily, to have tea at Chelsea’s flat. Lily had been to a birthday party nearby that lunchtime. It was the perfect opportunity for another casual get-together. No pressure. Though of course Chelsea had spent at least five hours cleaning her place from top to bottom. And hiding her self-help books.

When she opened the door, Lily was standing in front of Adam. She was wearing the beautiful dress she had worn on the flight to Lanzarote, when Chelsea first encountered Lily’s wilful streak. Her expression was the same as it had been that day as well.

‘I would have preferred to go straight home,’ she said.

‘Yes, well,’ said Adam. ‘It’s not all about what you want, Lily Roberts.’

Lily rewarded him with a glare. She stepped into Chelsea’s hallway.

‘It’s quite small,’ she said. ‘And it smells.’

Chelsea was mortified.

‘Lily,’ said Adam. ‘Don’t be rude. It’s a lovely flat,’ he added. ‘And look at this beautiful vase. Just right for these flowers.’

He flourished the bouquet he had been hiding behind his back. Gorgeous pink roses with heads the size of artichokes.

‘Oh, they’re lovely!’ said Chelsea.

‘Careful of the thorns,’ said Lily. ‘You might prick your finger and die!’

Chelsea shuddered.

‘Too many fairy stories,’ said Adam.

Chelsea wasn’t in the least bit surprised that Lily didn’t want any of the food she’d prepared for that evening, resorting instead to snacking on a packet of Mini Cheddars that Adam found at the bottom of his man-bag. Adam went into raptures over the delicate sandwiches to make up for his daughter’s disapproval. That went some way to making Chelsea feel better, but she was extremely glad when Lily asked if she could watch television and Adam replied that it was up to Chelsea, as their host.

‘Of course you may,’ said Chelsea, mightily relieved to be out of the glare of Lily’s disdain for just a little while.

With Lily safely occupied by the television in the other room, Chelsea told Adam about the surprise at her sister’s Sunday lunch.

‘She needs a kidney transplant. It’s either one of us or waiting for someone suitable to die.’

Adam paused with his glass halfway to his mouth. It was just for a moment, but Chelsea noticed and realised almost instantaneously what she had said to make him lose track of what he was doing.

‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I mean, I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘Why not? It’s the truth.’

‘But …’

‘I’m really glad that my wife was on the donor register,’ Adam said steadily. ‘The thought that some good might have come of her death is a comfort to me, as I’m sure it will be to Lily later on, when she’s old enough to understand what happened.’

Chelsea still felt awful. She continued to apologise.

‘I wasn’t thinking. I just said what came into my head …’

But Adam put the glass down and came round the table to stand beside her. He wrapped his arms round her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head. Then he kissed her crown.

‘It sounds like your new sister is bringing you all sorts of things to think about,’ he said. ‘It can’t be easy.’

‘I know, but … I should have thought before I started talking …’

Adam kissed her again. ‘I never want you to think that you can’t say whatever you want in front of me. If you feel you have to censor yourself, what kind of future can we have together?’

At the word ‘future’, Chelsea felt her heart contract. She turned her face up towards him so that he could kiss her on the mouth. A future with Adam sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world.

How had she got so lucky? And was it possible that she could hang on to this wonderful man? They stayed like that for a while. Her sitting on the kitchen chair and him with his arms round her and his mouth pressed to her hair.

I love you
. Chelsea’s heart beat the words in silence. She couldn’t wait for the moment when she would be able to say it out loud.

However, Chelsea’s moment of bliss was interrupted when Lily came back into the kitchen. Under her disapproving gaze, the adults sprang apart. But Chelsea’s disappointment turned to confused surprise when, rather than grabbing hold of Adam to reclaim him as her own, Lily insisted on climbing into Chelsea’s lap.

‘I think I will have a sandwich after all,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Chelsea.’

Adam and Chelsea smiled at one another over Lily’s head.

Ronnie had called Chelsea hoping her sister would be as outraged as she was by Annabel and Richard’s request but Chelsea’s response had been muted. It was clear she empathised with Annabel. So Ronnie called again the following morning, hoping that, having had time to think about it, Chelsea might be ready to bitch. She wasn’t.

‘Put yourself in her shoes,’ Chelsea said. ‘What would you do?’

Ronnie knew that she would have done the same. And of course she would have wanted Annabel’s help. Of course she would have tracked Annabel down and asked for it. She probably wouldn’t have waited so long after their first meeting to reveal her true intentions either.

‘If you asked me to get tested for Sophie, I would be down at the hospital in a heartbeat,’ said Chelsea. ‘And I’m going to do the same for Annabel. If she needs me to.’

Shamed by Chelsea’s open-hearted attitude and by how quickly her mother and father had agreed to be tested, Ronnie told Mark that they should get tested too. Then she finally texted Annabel her ‘yes’.

Annabel called back right away. ‘Thank you, Ronnie. I knew you would come through.’

The thing is, it was easy enough to agree to be tested as a match. Annabel moved quickly to get everyone an appointment at the private clinic and the family travelled there en masse (with the exception of Granddad Bill and Jack who remained at home for the day with Jacqui and Dave’s neighbour). Sophie wasn’t tested, as she was still too young, but she was keen to come along because Annabel, Richard and Izzy were going to meet them all for lunch afterwards. Sophie and Izzy had been talking to each other online. Their friendship was growing by the day.

And lunch was going to be the Buchanans’ treat.

‘The very least we could do,’ Richard said.

Yes, on the morning of the tests, Ronnie felt good and brave and strong. She had never been a fan of needles – she’d always sent Mark to take the children for their vaccinations – but that day she had mustered her courage and stared ahead, full of stoicism, as the nurse at the clinic took what felt like a pint from her arm. It was for a good cause. It was for her
family
.

The momentary pain was more than outweighed by the pride Ronnie felt as she regarded the little plaster on her arm from which the sample had been taken. It made Ronnie feel selfless. A proper decent person. It made her feel a little closer to being Annabel’s equal. Annabel’s obvious gratitude was tremendously sweet for her sister. That was something money couldn’t buy.

Lunch was at a country house hotel, altogether smarter than the Ridgeview where Jacqui, Dave and Annabel had their first meeting. The car park was full of fancy cars and, apart from Dave and Mark, all the men were wearing jackets. That might have been a problem were it not for the fact that Richard and Annabel were obviously regulars. The maître d’ was all over them, taking coats and pulling out chairs and treating them all like royalty.

Once everyone was seated round a large round table, Richard suggested that they order a bottle of champagne as an aperitif to reward everyone for having given blood.

‘As I understand it,’ he said, ‘champagne will help replace that lost blood more quickly than ordinary wine.’

‘Do you mind if I have a beer?’ asked Dave.

Mark, who had tested despite not being Izzy’s blood relation, had the waiter line up two beers at once.

‘They seemed to take an awful lot of blood out of my arm,’ he explained.

Yes, it was very easy to agree to be tested for a match. It was nothing. A pinprick and less than a minute’s discomfort in return for a lavish free lunch and Annabel’s gushing gratitude was an absolute bargain. Though she didn’t say it out loud, Ronnie couldn’t see how it was possible any of the Bensons would be a match for Izzy in any case. If Richard had been ruled out because of something as common as high blood pressure, why should a grandparent or an aunt on her mother’s side work instead?

Ronnie enjoyed the free lunch, drank enough champagne to fell a Shire horse and forgot all about the blood test. Until, four days later, she got the call from Dr Devon.