A Proper Family Christmas (37 page)

‘You buy yourself something for Christmas, you lovely young man.’

‘I’ll give it to the Kidney Foundation,’ Jack said.

All the grandmothers on the bus sighed.

With Jack, Granddad Bill and the wheelchair safely deposited, the bus travelled on towards Warwick, with everyone on board feeling slightly warmer for their encounter with the strange pair in the electric wheelchair. It would not be until the bus got to Warwick that one of the lads who had helped get the wheelchair on board would idly check his Facebook page on his mobile and realise he’d been travelling with two fugitives.

It was properly dark by now and the pavements out here in the little country village were rather narrow, so Jack and Bill had to stick to the road. Fortunately, there wasn’t any traffic that evening. And Dave had fitted Bill’s chair with headlights. Jack soon worked out how to turn them on.

‘I remember a town like this in Normandy,’ Granddad Bill told his great-grandson. ‘It was all quiet, just like it is here. The Nazis had all fled ahead of us but they left their supplies and their wine behind. We drank champagne like it was water. It was like winning the bloody lottery.’

‘Don’t say bloody,’ said Jack reflexively. ‘Granddad Bill, is their house up here?’

‘I don’t know, lad. You’re the navigator.’

‘I’m the pilot,’ Jack said.

But Jack was feeling a little less sure of himself now. It was cold and the trees that had looked so pretty back in the early summer loomed over them like long-fingered monsters. Something stirred in the undergrowth. It was probably just a fox but the noise it made had Jack clinging to the arms of the chair in panic.

‘Granddad Bill! What was that?’

‘Just a Nazi deserter,’ said Granddad Bill. He was somewhere else now. In some other time. He started singing one of his favourite songs. ‘
Hitler has only got one ball …’

This time Jack didn’t join in. He was too worried. The wheelchair trundled on. But it was going less fast over the rough country road than it had done on the smooth pavements in town. Jack suddenly felt a wash of fear. Not just of the dark woods to either side of them but of his mother too. She would be wondering where he had got to by now. He should have told her where they were going. She might have driven them if he’d explained what he was thinking. Ronnie was always telling him that he should never go off on his own. Jack was going to be in big trouble when they got back home. Far worse trouble than he had been in only the day before, when he spilled hot chocolate all over the front of his anorak.

‘Granddad Bill,’ Jack said. ‘We need to phone Mummy.’

But neither of them had a phone.

And then the wheelchair’s battery ran flat. And the thick white clouds that had hung over the Midlands all day finally began to snow.

Ronnie listened intently as the woman who had spotted Jack and Bill en route to the bus station relayed the details of the sighting.

‘They looked like they were having a gay old time,’ the woman said. ‘And they must have been going at twenty miles an hour. People were having to jump off the pavement so they didn’t get run over.’

It was a comfort to Ronnie and Jacqui to hear that Jack and Bill were still together. What was less comforting was how much the search had suddenly widened. The police now concentrated their efforts on the bus station. They quizzed everyone in the bus queues as to whether they’d seen Jack and Bill boarding. Of course, the problem with that was that the people in the bus queues had not been there half an hour before. They hadn’t seen anything to help work out where the missing pair were going.

And Ronnie was beginning to appreciate that an hour was a very long time indeed when you were worrying about your lost child.

At the Great House, the Buchanans had just finished supper. Not that anyone was particularly hungry with the thought that Jack and Granddad Bill were missing foremost in everyone’s minds. Richard ignored his doctor’s advice and finished off half a bottle of wine, hoping it would quell his anxiety though he pretended it was no big deal.

‘They’ll show up,’ he said. ‘They’ll be in a pub somewhere.’

Izzy excused herself as quickly as she could to go upstairs and check the progress of the search online.

Meanwhile, Annabel texted Jacqui, offering her moral support. She wanted to text Ronnie too but wasn’t sure that it would be welcome. She’d guessed that Ronnie had vetoed Richard joining the search.

‘I suppose I should take Leander out,’ said Richard once the table was cleared and the dishwasher loaded.

Leander was less than enthusiastic. Richard had to prod him towards the back door. Perhaps it was just the cold but even Leander seemed somehow anxious that night.

‘We should send you out to look for them, eh?’ Richard suggested to the dog as they stepped out into the bitter December night. ‘See what you can do with that superior sniffing power of yours.’

Leander stood his ground on the garden path and refused to follow Richard towards the road.

Richard looked up at the sky and saw the winter’s first flurry of snow. He was sorely tempted to abandon the walk himself. But he knew that Annabel would disapprove. It was always easy to find an excuse not to exercise and both he and Leander definitely needed it.

‘Come on,’ said Richard, actually getting behind Leander and pushing him with his knee. ‘This is for your own good, fatso. You don’t think I want to be out here tonight either? Once around the village and we’ll be back by the fire before you know it.’

They headed out of the gate towards the church. Alas, the village pub had long since closed and been converted into someone’s holiday home. Richard kept his hands tucked into his armpits to keep them warm as he walked. Even though he was wearing gloves, the tips of his fingers were numb within moments. It was no kind of night to be out.

Granddad Bill had fallen asleep with his head lolled to one side and his mouth wide open. Jack couldn’t wake him up. Bill didn’t even wake himself up when he let out one of his enormous snores.

The wheelchair would not move. The battery was completely dead. Jack had jumped off his great-grandfather’s lap and tried to push the chair from behind, but he could not move the chair and its heavy load even an inch. The wheels were in a rut and it was snowing quite hard by now. Jack didn’t have any gloves to put on. His mother hadn’t bought him a replacement pair since he left the last lot behind at school at the end of term.

‘Granddad Bill, wake up!’ Jack pleaded.

Bill sank deeper into his doze.

Jack was properly scared now but he knew that he had to do something. He should walk to the nearest house and knock on the door. But Ronnie had told him not to knock on strangers’ doors. She’d told him that if he was ever lost or in trouble, he should find a policeman. There was no sign of a policeman right then.

They must be close, though. Jack was sure they had asked the bus driver for the right village. If he walked just a little way he might come across the house. Jack set out to the north, but he was only ten steps away from his sleeping great-grandfather when a barn owl swooped low overhead and had Jack running right back to the wheelchair and cowering behind it. How long until morning came?

Ordinarily, there was nothing Leander the Labrador liked more than going for a walk but on a night like this not even the fresh scent of fox on the wind was enough to make up for having to leave the fireside. Leander dragged his paws, letting Richard set the painfully slow pace. The dog would walk no further than he had to. The moment Richard turned for home, Leander would use all the energy he was conserving to race back ahead of him and bag the best seat in the house even though, technically speaking, he wasn’t supposed to sit on the furniture.

‘Come on, boy,’ Richard called encouragingly. ‘Come on. Let’s pick the pace up. I know it was you who stole the mince pies off the counter. You’re going to have to do a lot of running to burn those calories off.’

Leander only took in his master’s tone, which was jovial. No need to take any notice of the words.

Still muttering encouragement, Richard made it to the war memorial in the centre of the village and waited for Leander there. The simple stone cross already had a covering of snow. Richard brushed flakes from the names of the fallen while he gave Leander a chance to catch up.

‘This is as far as we go,’ he said when Leander got there. ‘Too bloody cold to be out any longer. I’ll race you back to the fireplace.’

And Leander would have beat him to it, had he not caught another scent – even more interesting than fresh fox – as they passed Green Lane. It was the smell of meat. The smell of offal, specifically, that sent him into paroxysms of delight whenever Annabel brought some home from Waitrose.

‘What’s the matter, boy?’ Richard asked, noticing that Leander’s attention had been caught by something down the dark road that led to nowhere in particular. ‘Come on. Let’s go home.’

But Leander was off the lead. Richard didn’t have a hope of catching him before he set off in this new direction, taking him further from the house and the comforts of the hearth. As the scent of offal grew stronger in his nostrils, Leander picked up the pace. He could smell something else now too. Leander knew this scent and he knew it belonged to someone he was fond of. Had he been able to describe it in human terms, he would have said there was a tang of hair oil, old-fashioned shaving cream and underneath it all, the smell of Trebor mints. And what was that? The smell of baby shampoo, a dash of Savlon and hot chocolate spilled down the front of an anorak?

Leander raced out of sight.

‘Leander!’ Richard shouted. ‘Leander! Come back, you bloody idiot hound!’

Richard was furious at the idea of having to find his Labrador in the woods on a night like this.

Jack Benson-Edwards was delighted to be found.

While Richard and Izzy attended to Granddad Bill and Jack in front of the fire, plying them with beer and hot chocolate respectively, Annabel picked up the phone and called Ronnie.

‘What do you want?’ Ronnie asked, brusquely. ‘I need to keep this line open for calls from the police.’

‘No need. Your son is here,’ said Annabel. ‘And Granddad Bill too.’

‘Oh, thank God. What are they doing with you?’

‘Richard found them in a lane on the other side of the village when he was walking the dog. They’re pretty cold but they’re both in one piece. Apparently they wanted to see Izzy. They came on the bus. I’m going to drive them both back to you.’

‘We’ll come and fetch them,’ said Ronnie.

‘No, I’ll bring them,’ said Annabel. ‘It will be quicker and it’s really no trouble. The wheelchair may have to come separately though. Your house or Jacqui’s?’

‘Mine,’ said Ronnie. ‘But wouldn’t it be better for Richard to come? You’re having a baby in a month.’

‘I am,’ said Annabel. ‘But Richard’s had most of a bottle of wine. He’ll stay with Izzy. I’m fine to drive.’

At last Ronnie managed, ‘Thank you.’

Forty-five minutes later, Annabel pulled the car up outside Ronnie’s house. Bill and Jack were both strapped into the back. It was the first time Annabel had seen the Benson-Edwards family’s legendary Christmas display. Mark had outlined every contour of the house in fairy lights. It must have cost a fortune to have them on even for an hour a day.

Still, the neighbour’s house had even more lights and a huge inflatable Santa tethered to the chimney. It was a windy night and the blown-up Santa looked in serious danger of lift off.

‘People drive from all over the world to see what Dad and Mick next door have done,’ Jack said proudly.

When Richard first found Jack and Bill, shivering in the Green Lane, Jack had been hysterical with worry. Annabel had assured him that she would talk to Ronnie and make sure he didn’t get into trouble. After all, he and Granddad Bill had only come to Little Bissingden because they wanted to help Izzy. With Auntie Annabel on his side, Jack had soon calmed down and now he was just excited to be able to show her the Christmas decorations. Annabel told him that she had never seen anything like it. Which was true.

Of course Ronnie had been listening out for the arrival of Annabel’s car. As Annabel heaved herself out of the driver’s seat and went round to open the car door for Jack, Ronnie came out, followed by Jacqui, Dave, Mark and Sophie. And a pair of community police officers who were there to make sure the day’s excitement reached its proper conclusion.

Ronnie swept Jack into her arms and hugged him tightly.

‘You silly, silly boy,’ she said. ‘The whole of the police force has been looking for you. What did you think you were doing?’

‘Granddad Bill bought me a kidney in the supermarket so I was taking it to Izzy,’ Jack explained.

The collected adults gave a gasp of horror.

‘It’s all right,’ said Annabel. ‘It’s the thought that counts.’

‘Izzy can’t have it so Leander did,’ Jack continued. ‘It helped Leander find us. When we were lost in the woods.’

‘They got the wheelchair stuck in a lane,’ said Annabel. ‘Leander sniffed them out. Good job Richard was walking him. It was getting pretty cold.’

Granddad Bill was safely back in his old wheelchair. The one without a battery. Jacqui wrapped a duvet round him.

‘Are you all right, Bill?’ Jacqui asked. ‘Warm enough?’

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘I’ve won the bloody lottery.’

‘I’d better get back,’ said Annabel. ‘The snow is starting to settle. Have a lovely Christmas, won’t you?’ She gave Jacqui a kiss on the cheek and reached out to squeeze Sophie’s hand.

‘Aren’t you going to come in and see our tree?’ Jack asked.

Annabel looked to Ronnie.

‘I’m not sure …’ she began.

Suddenly everyone was looking to Ronnie for an answer. Jacqui, Dave, Mark, Sophie, Granddad Bill, Jack and the community police officers.

‘You’ve probably got to get back to Izzy,’ said Ronnie. ‘Have a good Christmas.’