good to see her laugh and it made me realise I hadn’t seen her do so for quite some time.
‘Sometimes you’re just like your mum, Jess.’
I liked the sound of that. I smiled. ‘So, what will you do at Christmas?’ I asked.
‘I’m organising Christmas lunch for the homeless,’ she said. ‘It’s at the Guild Hall school. We’ll be catering for two hundred. What are you doing?’
‘Ah. Um. I’m here. Catering for three.’
‘Like to come and help out? It can be great fun.’
‘Fun? No way,’ I blurted. I couldn’t help it. Christmas Day with the down-and-outs was so not on my wish list.
‘What else are you going to do?’
‘Well, exactly,’ I said crossly. ‘All my plans have been scuppered so I suppose I might as well come and join the great unwashed and unwanted.’
‘Jess, that’s no way to talk about them. If you heard some of their stories, it would break your heart. People who’ve lost their families, businesses, fortunes, homes. Most of them didn’t choose to be homeless you know, any more than you chose for Gran to change her plans. Sometimes life deals you a round of bad cards.’
‘Tell me about it. Now I feel guilty too,’ I said. ‘Thanks a bunch. Deck the halls with Christmas holly, tis the season to be jolly , you know, not slave away serving up lunch to people you don’t know.’
‘Exactly. But why shouldn’t the homeless be jolly too? They have nothing in their lives but the clothes they stand up in and they don’t always have those! It wouldn’t hurt you to come and give up some of your time. You live a privileged life, Jess. I do too. I have a home, heating, food on the table. Sometimes we should give something back.’
I felt like I’d swallowed a stone. There was no getting out of it. I didn’t exactly have any plans I couldn’t break but why should it be me having to give something back when other people swanned off to their holiday homes in the sun? Why was I the one with an Aunt Maddie, conscience of the blooming world? Why meeeeeeeeee?
‘Tell you what. You come with me and help out on December twenty-fifth and later we can have our Christmas celebration. Mum will be back from Florence just after New Year and she’ll do a big dinner with all the trimmings then. It doesn’t matter what date it happens. What are you going to do this week?’
‘Nothing. Everyone’s away and Pia’s got a boyfriend.’
‘Ah. But that shouldn’t stop you. London’s a great place to be during the Christmas run up.’
‘That’s what Dad said.’
‘He’s right. There are outdoor ice-skating rinks, carol services all over the place, window displays to look at in all the big shops, shows, movies, loads of things to do.’
‘And all are more fun if you have someone to do them with.’
‘Tell Pia that you’re feeling left out. If I know her, she’ll be round in an instant.’
I knew Aunt Maddie was right but I was finding it hard to shake off the blues. Sometimes I think that feelings are like clothes and some days, you wake up and just find you’re wearing them. Today, I was swathed in stubborn and sulky. ‘Christmas was always something Mum did. We had our traditions and now we have nothing.’
Aunt Maddie’s expression softened. ‘I know, love. But who started those traditions? She did, and some of them you can carry on but why not start a few of your own, too? Think about what you’d like to do, places you’d like to go, people you’d like to spend time with. Life is what you make of it, you know.’
‘I guess. When life throws you lemons, make lemonade. Mum used to say that. I have my own saying and that is when life throws you a lemon, duck . . . or throw it back.’
‘That’s not the Jess I know. You would never duck. Come on. Take a challenge. Do something different. Christmas Day with the homeless. What do you say?’
I felt I couldn’t say no without being the worst person in the world. ‘I suppose I have to now,’ I said and then an
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