Chapter 9

It was inevitable that at some point they would meet Tom Carmichael, and as it happened, it was the day Gerry started walking with Delia again after his enforced rest. They ended up drinking coffee together in Reminder's saloon, sitting next to the wood-burning stove. Negotiating the companionway stairs was a little awkward, but Gerry managed well, to his great pleasure.

Delia was delighted that Gerry and Tom seemed to hit it off immediately. It seemed that the reason Gerry joined the Marines rather than the Army was that he, quite simply, loved boats. Just not enough to want to be a sailor. In fact, Delia had to excuse herself after over half an hour so she could see to the old lady of the day.

At lunch, Gerry was full of the conversation. "I liked that young man," he said, "in fact I asked him what he was doing over Christmas. I thought it might be nice to have his company. But apparently he's already arranged to spend the season with his foster-family. He's got quite a story. Seems those ships changed his life."

"Really? I've never heard him talk about his background ... he's always been keen to talk about the ships. All he's ever said was that he had a girlfriend, but she's off to Music College in London and he hasn't heard from her since the summer."

"Yes, he's pretty cut up about that. But ... no. It's his story and I'll leave it to him to tell you if he wants to. I'm impressed. He actually invited me to go sailing with him next year. He didn't seem to think this leg would be too much of a problem. I think I might go."

"Sounds like a good idea," Delia encouraged him, but paused, thinking. "We hadn't discussed what to do over Christmas," she went on. "Last year I helped out with the church singles lunch on the day. It was fun; I enjoyed it. Lots of people who'd have been on their own, or single parents with no other adults to help them with the kids."

Gerry had sort of assumed they'd have the day together; he was a little disappointed, but covered it up. "Could I join in with that? Would there be a job for me?"

"Oh, yes; I'm sure of that. There's always plenty to do, if it's only entertaining the kids."

"Don't know much about kids," he admitted, "I've only encountered them at a distance. But I'm happy to do what I can."

"There's another thing," Delia nervously began. "One of the old biddies I go to is always solitary. Rather sour and bitter. I've been trying to think of ways of cheering her up."

Gerry smiled. "I suspect you're flogging a dead horse there," he said. "I suppose you're thinking of inviting her here for a meal?"

"She may not come ... but I'd like to try."

He shook his head, but it was disbelieving admiration for this unusual woman. "Why not? Let's give it a try."

"Would you mind if it were Boxing Day, or would you prefer to have that day free after all the work of Christmas day?"

"Boxing Day would be best, wouldn't it? Later in the week things are opening again."

Edith Spurgeon was suspicious and reluctant. At least, she expressed reluctance. When pressed, she admitted that she would be on her own at Christmas and, no she didn't mind turkey. She didn't like the church singles meal and stayed at home (which Delia already knew after the previous year and from Edna Brown).

Delia also spoke to and invited Edna.

"Oh, my dear, that's a lovely idea, but it wouldn't work. Edith never forgave me for marrying Jim Brown. They were engaged for a while, but he couldn't cope with her social aspirations; he just wanted to be a small-town solicitor, so he ended up with me. Then she met Graeme Worth-Smith. He would have been fine for her – a bit of a toff. But he was an RAF pilot, and he was shot down and killed in Korea before they married. Besides, I've got family and they're always wanting me to go to see them. I love them, but I have to admit the kids are a bit much at my age, at least for more than an hour or so. But I expect I can survive."

When Delia spoke to Dulcie and said Gerry wanted to help with the meal, it resulted in a visit by Peter Hanson to see Gerry, who (to his astonishment) found himself agreeing to be 'Father Christmas' for the little ones.

The party was a resounding success. To Gerry's amazement, he thoroughly enjoyed playing 'Santa' and he was definitely a hit ... with the kids, yes, but Delia noticed he was getting speculative looks from the mums too. Her reaction puzzled her; why would she feel anger that those women were eyeing Gerry up? Surely it was understandable? She had no claim on him, did she?

Later, after 'Santa' had left for Lapland and Gerry reappeared as himself, he seemed to be the centre of attention of a number of women...

Somehow, Delia didn't enjoy the party as much as she had the previous year. Edna Brown noticed. "You seem rather quiet, dear."

"I guess so," Delia had to work at giving her attention to the old lady, "I'm not too sure why."

"If you want my opinion," the old lady commented, "I'd say you were in love."

That focussed Delia's attention most effectively. "What? I can't be. Rubbish. I mean..." She trailed off uncertainly.

"Uh huh," Edna smiled. Her sharp old eyes had noted how much of Delia's attention had been following Gerry Westwood and she approved thoroughly.

"Oh, excuse me, Edna," Delia said desperately, turning and heading for the toilets ... from whence she emerged some time later a little calmer and fresher, but made a point of avoiding Edna ... only to hear Gerry's voice in her ear.

"I could almost think you were avoiding me. I wanted to ask if you were alright; every time I looked at you, I thought you looked unhappy."

She found a smile from somewhere and pasted it on her face. "I'm fine, thanks, Gerry. Just got a lot on my mind right now."

"Oh ... kay..." Gerry was not convinced and did not sound convinced, but Delia let it go. "I think things are winding down," he went on. "Are you ready to go home?"

Delia looked round; table-cloths were being removed and folded. As fast as a table was cleared, it was folded and removed to storage. It was obvious everything was under control and Delia realised she could not, in all honesty, deny it was time to head home. Reluctantly she nodded and they walked together to bid farewell to Dulcie and Peter, who expressed their gratitude to both of them for their assistance.

"Not a problem," Gerry smiled, "I really enjoyed myself. I would never have believed it!"

They left and walked home in silence; not, this time, a comfortable silence. A couple of glasses of sherry and a mince pie or two after they got in loosened Delia up a little, so the atmosphere that evening was quite relaxed, all things considered. She was busy scolding herself, though.

The following day, Delia was too busy cooking to worry about anything else. When Edith arrived, it was Gerry who welcomed her – it was, after all, his house. Whether it was his injury, or some other reason, she responded to him much more sociably than had been her wont. When Delia had everything in hand, more or less, she found them chatting with remarkable ease. If Edith could hardly be described as 'cheerful', at least she wasn't exhibiting her usual sour and bitter persona. They exchanged gifts, tokens, really; toiletries, home-made cakes, pretty silk scarves for Delia and Edith, attractive but inexpensive jewellery from a local craft co-operative, lined leather gloves for Gerry.

Delia had prepared a conventional 'Christmas' lunch of Turkey with all the trimmings, which they ate and accompanied it with a white table wine provided by Gerry; Christmas pudding with brandy butter and a tawny Port followed.

When Edith left, rather later, she thanked Delia with obvious sincerity and followed that with an apology. "Talking to Captain Westwood has made me think," she said.