Ring Out The Bells

In a few days Amy would be Daniel’s wife. She could hardly believe it!

AMY’S gaze slid around the studio, breathing in its familiar, slightly dusty smell. Not that it looked – or sounded – like a studio at the moment. Some of the monitors were decorated with Christmas cards, and the shallowdrawered plan chests were covered in stray glasses and a silver punchbowl with a ladle as well as an array of soft drinks.

“Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” blared out from a CD player, and Christmas lights were draped from the light fittings.

The senior partner was wandering about in a Santa Claus hat, filling people’s glasses from a jug of eggnog. Amy hoped the office she was moving to would be as friendly. Somerset, England, suddenly seemed remote.

Her boss stopped by Amy and tried to give her a refill.

“How does it feel to be leaving us and marrying an Englishman? What’s wrong with us Yanks?”

Amy covered her glass with her hand.

“Thanks, but I’ve got to drive home, you know!”

“It’s Christmas and your last day in the office! Almost your last day of freedom, too. Live a little!”

“I’ve had enough, honestly. The snow’s getting deeper by the minute.” She pointed to the large white flakes floating down past the windows. “As for your question, if you didn’t want me to marry an Englishman you shouldn’t have invited Daniel to come work here last summer.”

“Yeah, that was a big mistake,” a morose voice said at Amy’s elbow.

Her heart sank. She was already feeling jittery about the future; she could do without Scott coming to rain on her parade.

The senior partner laughed and wandered to the next knot of people.

“Scott.” Amy tried to smile and raised her voice to make herself heard over Bing Crosby, still dreaming of a white Christmas. “Come to wish me well?”

“To give you this,” he said, proffering a small gift wrapped in wedding paper and sporting a silver bow.

Amy could feel her eyes welling up. Please, just go back to being your normal boorish self, she thought. I can’t cope with you being nice to me at this stage.

“If you decide to call the whole thing off with the Englishman you still get to keep the gift,” he said gruffly. “It’s a set of coasters.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Scott. Thank you.”

She turned to add the

package to the growing pile of gifts. People had been so generous. Her eyes started filling up again. She must stop this. After all, she loved Daniel and she couldn’t wait to be married to him.

In three days’ time she’d be Mrs Adams and the day after that they’d be flying off to England for their honeymoon. What was more, in a mere 24 hours her gorgeous, tall, handsome Daniel would be arriving in the States ready for their quiet Christmas wedding.

A white Christmas wedding at that, she reflected, taking a last look at the drifting snowflakes before dragging her attention back to Scott, who now wore his usual scowl.

“I don’t understand. If you wanted a wedding, we could have got married, I’ve told you that. We’d been going out for three years, for goodness’ sake. I wouldn’t have minded.

“But no, the minute that Daniel guy turned up it was as though you and I never existed. Thanks a bunch.”

Amy opened her mouth to speak, but he hadn’t finished.

“Apart from my feelings in the matter, why would you leave all this?” He waved a hand expansively round the office. “Dan said his office in the UK is about a quarter of the size of this.

“And they have planning laws in the UK that make architecting a lousy business to be in, you know? It rains in England, too. All the time. You really want to share all that with lover-boy?”

Amy felt her threatening tears evaporate under the spell of Scott’s mean comments. Why had she ever gone out with him?

Anyone who used “architecting” as a verb had to be bad news, quite apart from someone who “wouldn’t have minded” marrying her.

“I’m perfectly aware of what I’m going to, thanks. And I am English by birth, remember?”

“Sure. You always did drag that into the conversation. Just because your father was English doesn’t make you English.”

“Actually, I think it does,” she murmured, but Scott was still in full flow.

“You’ve been here since you were in third grade. I bet you can’t even remember your father.”

Amy turned on her heel. She didn’t need this right now.

“We were good together. Still could be.”

The senior partner was tapping the rim of the punchbowl for quiet. Saved, Amy thought, smiling at him.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, smiling back. “And someone turn that music down, why don’t you?”

Frank Sinatra and Santa Claus stopped coming to town abruptly and the room went quiet.

“I just want to say how much we’re all going to miss Amy. Someone’s pointed out that I should never have let Daniel Adams come work here, and I wouldn’t have if I’d known it’d mean losing such a talented – not to mention beautiful – architect as Amy.

“But Daniel’s attractions are greater than ours, apparently, so Amy’s tying the knot on Friday and then they’re off to the UK on Saturday.”

He looked at her.

“I just want you to know that if you ever want to come back here, there’ll be a warm welcome – plus a pile of work – waiting for you. So let me offer a toast: to Amy and Daniel!”

“Amy and Daniel!” was still echoing in Amy’s ears as she eased the car into the driveway. Snow tyres or not, she couldn’t help feeling relieved to be home and off the slithery roads.

Even though the snowploughs had been out, it had been a hairy ride. She’d tried phoning her mom before she left the office, just so she’d know when to expect her, but had got no answer. The phone lines were probably down again. Still, she was here now.

The house, Amy thought as she got out of the car and stepped on to the icy driveway, looked perfect.

At any other time when she was this busy she might be cursing the snow, but for a Christmas wedding it was perfect.

The traditional New England Colonial house stood back from the road, the white clapboard elevation punctuated by the dark-green shutters at the windows. There was a central porch with four imposing pillars, and a solid fringe of icicles hung from the portico.

Even though there were still three whole days to go before the wedding, and a couple of weeks before Christmas itself, Amy’s mother Lisa was already winding garlands of greenery round the pillars, and a large conifer wreath with a huge red velvet bow glowed a welcome from the front door.

“Great, you’re back early! I thought you might be late on your last day at work. I’m sure glad to see you,” Lisa sang out as Amy gathered her bags from the back of the car and struggled up the driveway.

“I cleared the snow just a couple of hours ago,” her mother added, shaking her head, “and it’s this deep again already!”

“You shouldn’t be clearing snow, Mom – Joshua said he’d come and do it. And come down off that ladder while you’re at it. You should’ve waited till I got home!”

Lisa ignored her. “How does it look?” Her eyes were shining with excitement. “I haven’t had this much fun since . . .”

“It looks wonderful,” Amy filled in quickly. They both knew what Lisa had been going to say.

She hadn’t had this much fun since Amy’s father had died, nearly twenty years ago, of a sudden heart attack.

The red flag on the mail box was raised and Amy trudged back to the edge of the road to pick up the mail. “Mailman must have come late. The snow’s holding everything up.”

“Anything interesting?” her mother said when Amy returned to the porch, a sheaf of letters in her hand.

“Mostly look like Christmas and wedding cards,” Amy said, grinning. “And we got a pile more gifts from the guys at work,” she added, indicating the bags she was still clutching. “Scott gave us some coasters.”

Lisa sniffed.

The weather was getting worse, and there was no word from Daniel

“The sooner you’re away from him, the better. At least Daniel will be back tomorrow. The guestroom’s all set. I moved your dress out of there. It’s in my closet now. Don’t want him to see it before you’re walking down the aisle!”

“He was going to e-mail his arrival time.”

Her mother frowned. “We’ve been having phone trouble all day. I doubt he’ll get through on e-mail. Your cell phone should be working, though, shouldn’t it?”

“There’s something wrong with it. I really need to trade it in, but it didn’t seem worth replacing it till I got to England. Oh, well, guess I should’ve.

“I hate feeling I can’t reach him. What if there was an emergency?”

Amy put her things away but kept her coat on. She went back on to the porch to help her mother finish dressing the pillars.

“Do you think we need Christmas lights on the garlands?” Lisa asked, standing back and looking at the overall effect. “Or would that be overdoing things?”

Amy laughed. Her mother was a great one for gilding the lily. It was the same when they were decorating the tree.

“Well, I think it looks great just the way it is,” she began, but

Lisa was already untangling more lights. “Switch these on, will you, honey? I want to see if any of the bulbs are bust.”

Amy smiled again. When was the last time the lights hadn’t worked? Maybe when she was a small child, but since LED lights came in?

But her mom was a different generation, and mistrustful. With a click they all pinged into life, and the two of them oohed in unison.

Twenty minutes later they were standing back and admiring their handiwork (while shivering), and ten minutes after that they were warm in front of the fire, drinking a welldeserved coffee.

“Your cousin Peggy was on at me again a couple of days ago,” Lisa said, looking at her daughter over her glasses. “You sure you don’t want to invite some more people? We could fit a few more in the dining-room – I reckon it would hold thirty if we moved things around.”

“Mom, we’ve been through this a million times. Daniel and I really, really want a small wedding. Just the two of us: you, Joshua and Linda-may and the kids,” Amy said, counting them off on her fingers. “The pastor and a few very close friends. If we start inviting people like Peggy we’d have to invite half the town. And since even Daniel’s mom can’t be with us – well.”

Lisa shook her head.

“It must be awful to have such a bad heart that you can’t fly. I’m surprised you didn’t have the wedding in England, to be honest. Daniel’s her only son, after all.”

“It’s a bit late to be having this conversation now, Mom.” Amy laughed. “Anyway, we’ll be living pretty close to her, which is just as well. I still can’t believe Tim’s left her. I mean, they’d been married for over thirty years!

“She’s heartbroken, and Daniel’s furious with his father. It was so unexpected. Anyway, it’s another good reason for keeping things small.”

Lisa leaned across and patted her daughter’s hand.

“As long as you’re getting the wedding you want.”

“It’s exactly the way we want it,” Amy reassured her. “It’s going to be great being at home, and not in some fancy hotel. I really hate weddings with armies of groomsmen and bridal showers and all that sort of stuff.

“I’m glad just to have two little flower girls who won’t boss me around! And the house looks perfect,” she added, breathing in deeply to smell the Christmas tree which was filling one corner of the room. “It’s all going to be perfect.”

“Your father and I had a lovely wedding,” Lisa said wistfully, gazing into the fire. “Not that far from where Daniel comes from.

“I don’t suppose you remember much about England, do you? You were only seven when we left.

“You know, one of the things I always remember about our wedding was the bells. Every little village seems to have a church with a bell tower.

“Sunday mornings used to be so joyous in England – wherever you went there were bells ringing out. It was glorious!”

Amy stood up and put their coffee cups on the tray and took them out to the kitchen. There was a smell of cinnamon and cloves, and some candycane-shaped cookies were cooling on a rack. Her mother had been busy.

Lisa followed her in, her eyes twinkling.

“Last time Daniel was here he said these were his favourite cookies. But there should be enough for us to just sample one or two.”

She put a few on a plate and swept up the crumbs from the worktop.

“Could you open the back door so I can throw these out for the birds? They must be starving with all this snow.”

Amy opened the door and both women stepped back from the blast of freezing air that hit them.

The snow was considerably deeper than it had been only an hour before.

“If this doesn’t stop soon they’ll be shutting the airports,” Lisa said, sounding worried. “And even the throughway snow ploughs are going to have trouble with this. I sure hope Daniel doesn’t get delayed.”

“There was a bit on the news just now,” Daniel’s mother Caroline said, standing in the doorway to his bedroom while he continued to pack.

“The east coast of America seems to be having the most horrendous snow. They showed cars stuck on the motorway.”

“Mmhm,” Daniel said, putting a neatly folded pale blue sweater in his case.

“You’d better take a few more sweaters. Layers are the answer when the weather’s as cold as that.”

“I’ll be indoors most of the time,” Daniel said, “and American houses are baking.”

“Even so, I should take both your fleeces if I were you,” Caroline continued.

She left the room and returned a couple of minutes later, carrying two fleeces and sounding out of breath.

Daniel looked up sharply. “You should be sitting down, Mum. You know what the doctor said. And that’s probably the third time you’ve come upstairs in the last ten minutes. You’ll wear yourself out.”

He moved a pile of socks off his bedroom chair.

“Sit down, for heaven’s sake. I don’t need a lot – I’m only going for three nights! It’s a real flying visit.”

He was about to add that when he came back he’d be married, and the very thought made him want to sing, but his mother had that faraway look in her eyes again.

Instead, he went over and put his arm round her and didn’t mention marriage.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at him determinedly. “Get on with your packing and then come down for supper. Cheese on toast all right for you?”

Daniel murmured his assent and watched as she left the room. He wouldn’t have believed that his attractive, vibrant mother could have turned into such a wraith in such a short time.

It was nearly four months since his father had suddenly upped sticks for no apparent reason, and his mother had been walking about in a daze ever since. She’d lost a huge amount of weight and clearly wasn’t eating.

She wasn’t even cooking for Daniel, which had to be a first. All his life she had pressed food on him: no roast dinner was complete without at least six sorts of vegetable, and her puddings were to die for.

But suddenly it was cheese on toast, and he was pretty sure even that was for his benefit. When she was alone it was more likely just an apple.

Daniel felt a renewed surge of rage against his father. What was he thinking of? And where was he? He knew his wife wasn’t well and he knew Daniel was getting married thousands of miles away.

He must also know Mum’s heart condition wouldn’t allow her to fly to the States.

The only saving grace in the whole situation was that he and Amy would be back in just a few days, man and wife, and living only a couple of miles away. They would all spend Christmas together.

He took the fleeces his mother had brought and hung them in his wardrobe.

He closed the case on the last of his clothes and picked up his phone. He knew Amy’s mobile had been playing up, but he hadn’t managed to get hold of her by e-mail today, either.

He scrolled down and pressed the phone icon, but seconds later was getting the message that her phone wasn’t switched on. Again.

Amy’s phone was always on, so it really wasn’t working. Just another thing they’d have to sort

out when they got back here.

Daniel looked out of the window towards the church. In summer you could hardly see it, but at this time of year its square tower was clearly visible through the tracery of the bare trees.

It was only small, built in the 1500s, and the sound of its six bells on Sunday mornings were, for Daniel, the sound of home.

Light shone through the stained-glass windows and he remembered his mother saying that there was a choir practice this evening for the carol service next Sunday.

They should be back from the States by then: he and Amy would be able to go.

He opened the window and breathed in the night air. Someone must be having a bonfire. It smelled like November. Then he turned and ran down the stairs.

Not a bonfire . . . “Mum! The toast!”

His mother turned from the kitchen window. She, too, had been looking out at the church. She gazed at him, unseeing.

“Come and sit down,” he said gently. “I’ll make us an omelette.”

Daniel must think her such a fool, Caroline thought bleakly. She’d been doing all right, too, until she forgot about the grill. What a mess!

Still, he’d cleared it all up and made them both some supper. Not that she could eat much of it. Then he’d insisted on putting up the Christmas tree.

It did all look more cheerful with it up and she didn’t want Amy to think she was the miserable woman she seemed to be at the moment. But she just couldn’t be bothered. She felt that way about most things since . . .

Just as well she wasn’t going to the wedding – she’d put a real blight on the proceedings. Though it would have been nice to see Daniel married. She’d thought about it often enough, but in her dreams she’d always had Tim standing by her side. She couldn’t believe it wouldn’t be like that again.

She had to pull herself together. What would this girl think of her? Even with the tree, the house didn’t look very welcoming. She must make an effort.

She could get the wreath down and hang up all those cards that were just sitting here. She ought to have made a Christmas cake.

She’d just go and fetch the stepladder and get the other decorations down from the loft. Was the ladder always this heavy? It just went to show how much she’d relied on Tim.

She’d better stop. Just for a moment. She was suddenly feeling . . . the ladder . . . splinters of glass were going everywhere and it was so dark.

The airport was noisy and artificially cheerful, with carols blaring out of speakers high above him.

Daniel looked upwards at the soaring fake Christmas trees, and down again at the multi-national crowds who were milling about, dragging suitcases and trying to keep track of small children.

Everyone on their way home for Christmas, he supposed, wherever that might be. Men dressed as Father Christmas were shaking charity tins, and smartly dressed cabin crew were tapping their way across the vast concourse in stiletto heels.

Daniel looked around until he saw the check-in desk for his flight and joined the inevitable queue snaking its way towards the harassed-looking staff.

He waited, checked his documents, stared at the other passengers, checked his papers again and waited some more.

Twice he felt in his inside jacket pocket to check that the ring was still there. The ring which, in a mere 48 hours, would sit snugly on Amy’s third finger.

What seemed like hours later he reached the person behind the desk and handed over his bag.

More queuing to go through security checks. More hatchet-faced officials. He would be so glad to get on the plane.

At last he was disgorged into the departure lounge. Despite the time it had taken to get through all the officialdom, it was still well over an hour before he could expect his flight to be called.

There were people sprawled across the banks of seats, tired and listless. He couldn’t see anywhere to sit which would not involve asking some stranger to move their rucksack.

He headed for the nearest coffee shop and joined another queue. When he at last got close enough to smell the coffee, the person in front of him hadn’t got enough English money for the cappuccino they’d just ordered.

“Here, let me get that,” Daniel said, when the man had fruitlessly searched his pockets for the second time.

The man looked round, uncomprehending.

Daniel took out his wallet and proffered a note to the barista.

“And I’d like an espresso as well, please.”

“You sure about this?” the boy behind the counter said, looking as though he’d never heard of such generosity before.

“Season of goodwill,” Daniel said, jerking his head in the direction of the loudspeakers, where a tinny version of “We Three Kings” was issuing forth. “Yeah, right.” “Thank you, sir,” the cappuccino man was repeating over and over, until he had to move out of the way of the next customer.

Daniel made his way to a small table and took out his phone. Not that he expected to be able to get through to Amy, but there was always a chance.

It felt like days since he’d last heard her voice, though in fact it was less than 24 hours, he admonished himself. And soon it wouldn’t be like this. Soon, very soon, they’d both be living in the same country again, in the same village, in the same house.

The noisy, crowded, jostling airport faded to nothing as Daniel took in this incredible fact. They would be married and wake up on Christmas morning in the same house, in the same bed.

The ringtone of the phone in his hand made him jump. Amy, at last!

But the number on the screen wasn’t Amy’s. It didn’t belong to anyone he knew. Whoever it was, and whatever they wanted, he couldn’t do anything about it now. He pressed the answer button. “Hello?” “Daniel?”

“Who is this, please?” “Oh. Yes. Sorry.” It was a woman’s voice.

He vaguely recognised it, but couldn’t for the moment place it.

“It’s me. Jean.” She paused expectantly. “Jean?”

“Yes, dear. It’s about your mother.”

Jean! Sudden alarm bells started clanging in Daniel’s head. Jean, his mother’s next-door neighbour. How could he have been so stupid?

Jean was still speaking, but Daniel only took in the odd word.

“I’ll ring you when I get there,” he said quickly and rang off.

He abandoned his undrunk coffee, grabbed his bag and searched wildly around for an airport official. This shouldn’t be happening. He was getting married the day after tomorrow.

Where was his father? He was the one who should be dealing with this, not Daniel. Certainly not Daniel when he was on the point of boarding a plane to get to his wedding.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave the country when his mother –

And then there was Amy, whose mobile was on the blink and who didn’t seem to be receiving his e-mails.

He’d worry about that later. Right now he just needed to get out of this

godforsaken airport and get on the road.

“Excuse me,” he said to the first person he saw in uniform, nearly knocking them over in his haste.

“Enquiries desk is that way,” the uniform said, without slowing down.

Daniel ran to the desk the man had indicated and interrupted the passenger asking about the temperature in Barbados.

“Excuse me,” Barbados man said, affronted, “there is a queue, you know!”

“I’ve got to leave at once! My mother . . .”

“The plane can’t leave any earlier than the scheduled time,” the woman behind the desk said slowly, shrugging at Barbados man. “What time is your flight?” she asked, speaking even more slowly.

“I’m not trying to catch a plane, I’m trying to tell you that I need to leave the airport and go to my mother. And I need to leave. Right. Away.” He was almost shouting, and the woman stood up.

“But you’re checked in, and your luggage will already be on the plane,” she explained slowly to him. “And if your luggage is on the plane, you have to be on the plane, too. Otherwise,” she added importantly, “you’d be a security risk. Any Tom, Dick or Harry could plant a bomb, see?”

“Is there a problem?” An older man with a lot of gold braid on his uniform was looking from the woman to Daniel, and after several questions led Daniel to a small office and indicated a chair.

Daniel took a deep breath. He must keep calm.

“I am in a hurry,” he said carefully. “As I’ve already explained.”

“And as we have already explained, you can’t leave here until your baggage is off the plane. Which will take a while and inconvenience a great many people. Now. Tell me again why it is so imperative that you do not fly to New York?” “Oh, for the love of . . .” “I cannot help noticing, sir, that you continue to pat your inside pocket. Are you carrying a weapon?” Daniel gaped at him. “A weapon? Of course not. I’m checking that I haven’t lost the ring. I’m getting married the day after tomorrow! In the States!”

“Then perhaps, sir, it would be a good idea to get on the plane?”

It was almost an hour later that Daniel was at last reunited with his suitcase and speeding out of the airport, and nearly another three before he reached the hospital in Bath.

He parked in a bay marked Ambulances Only and dashed through the glass entrance doors.

There was a queue. He looked around at the assorted patients, visitors and staff, all of them clearly busy.

A man dressed as Father Christmas was standing by a Christmas tree and talking to a little boy in a wheelchair, while a smiling nurse looked on.

Daniel walked up to the nurse.

“Excuse me,” he said quietly. Too quietly, apparently. The nurse didn’t look round.

No-one was looking in his direction. The queue at the reception desk wasn’t moving at all. He got out his phone to call Jean. She was probably still here in the hospital.

“No mobiles in the hospital, sir,” a porter said smartly as he pushed a wheelchair past. “No exceptions.”

Daniel looked after the man, starting to object, then stopped and opened his mouth wide and raised his voice.

“Will someone please help me?” he shouted. “My mother’s somewhere in this hospital. She’s had a serious heart attack and I need to find her.”

To be continued.