A Christmas Tail by Cressida McLaughlin

Author:Cressida McLaughlin
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008136024
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2015-09-30T16:36:06.793000+00:00

Cat’s mum and dad were wedged on the smaller of the two sofas, Shed stretched out with his head on her mum’s lap, his back legs on her dad’s. The cat was snoring. Despite the weather, her dad Peter was wearing his usual fishing waistcoat over a short-sleeved shirt, and Delia, her mum, had her sunglasses perched on her head, sending her short brown hair into disarray. Polly was sitting opposite them, hands clasped together, and Joe was on the arm of the sofa, as if trying to make it obvious that he wasn’t staying. He’d probably been there, his bum going numb, for hours. That’s what happened in the presence of Cat’s parents – you couldn’t escape.

‘Cat,’ Joe said, standing as she walked in. She could hear the relief in his voice, and she flashed him an apologetic look. ‘How was it?’

‘Catherine, dear.’ Her mum reached her arms up towards her as if she was a toddler asking to be picked up. Obviously, Shed couldn’t be disturbed. ‘It’s so lovely to see you.’ Cat reached down and hugged her mum, taking in her overly floral perfume, and then her dad with the musty workshop smell that hung around him like a fog.

‘You too,’ she said, ‘though you could have called ahead, told me you were coming. I kind of had plans tonight.’ She gave them a tight smile, and folded her arms.

Her mum and dad exchanged a cheeky look. ‘We wanted to surprise you,’ her mum said.

‘We had no idea you’d be out on a date,’ her dad added. ‘Couldn’t fathom it at all! Joe and Polly have been the perfect hosts in your absence. How much detail do we get?’

‘Hardly any,’ Cat said, not adding that the potential for juicy gossip would have been much greater had they not turned up and cut short her evening.

‘Oh, come on, Cat,’ Polly said, standing up and embracing her friend, ‘we’re all dying to hear how it went.’

‘And I’m sure they’ve heard enough about my handheld seed sower,’ her dad chipped in.

Glancing at Joe and Polly, Cat thought that a truer word had probably never been spoken. She could see Mark again whenever she wanted – she hoped all was not lost there – but her friends would never get their evening back.

‘All right then,’ she said, rolling her eyes and flopping down onto the sofa, ‘but is there any tea left in the pot?’

Cat gave them the edited highlights of her evening, focusing on the grand venue and food, the view from the top of the hill, and skirting around the conversation and her complicated feelings for Mark. Her parents seemed placated, mainly because her dad was a keen gardener and was appalled that he’d never visited one of the vineyards along the south coast, and her mum wanted to hear about every flavour and ingredient Cat had eaten.

‘Well,’ Delia said, when Cat’s words had dried up and Shed had disappeared out through the cat flap. ‘We don’t want to keep you all.

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