Across the Mersey - Annie Groves [82]
They all trooped into the front room where all that remained of the mince pies was a few crumbs.
Sasha and Lou had crept close to one another, their arms linked.
‘Sam, do you think someone could have got in?’ Jean asked uneasily, and then broke off as they all heard someone coming down the stairs.
For a moment no one moved, and then Sam strode to the door and wrenched it open, Jean and the girls clustering nervously behind him.
Looking back at them from the stairs was Luke, his hair tousled and his eyes blurred with sleep.
‘Luke!’
It was Jean who spoke, hurrying into the hall to her son.
‘Sorry I missed church, Mum,’ he apologised wearily. ‘They didn’t tell us we were getting leave until the last minute and then the ruddy train crawled all the way from Euston. I couldn’t let you know I was on my way.’
‘I’m sorry, Luke love, but your Christmas presents are on their way to France,’ Jean apologised ruefully as they all trooped into the front parlour in their dressing gowns, following the family tradition of opening their presents around the tree, which she and Sam had begun when they were first married.
Sam had put a match to the fire he had laid for her yesterday and Grace, bless her, had been up before all of them, bringing her and Sam tea in bed.
‘Well, nursing’s certainly changed you,’ Sam had teased Grace. ‘Getting up before anyone else.’
Now they were all gathered in the front room, the sound of Christmas carols from the wireless adding to the festive morning atmosphere. Frost had iced patterns on the windows and Jean was glad of the warmth of her dressing gown as they all started to hand out presents to one another, Grace hiding her smile at the disappointment on Lou’s face as she handed her her gramophone record disguised as a large box.
Luke’s gifts stood out from everyone else’s. They were all wrapped in fancy paper and tied with pretty ribbons. They also had gift tags on them saying ‘A present from Paris’.
‘We had to come back through Paris so one of the lads suggested we did our Christmas shopping there,’ he explained cheerfully.
‘Paris?’ Jean exclaimed with maternal anxiety. ‘You mean that Paris, where all them French mademoiselles are?’
Over Jean’s head, Luke and Sam exchanged exclusively male looks.
When Luke nodded his head, Jean protested, ‘But how could you go shopping there? You can’t speak French.’
‘They have signs outside some of the shops saying “English spoken”,’ Luke soothed her, adding with a grin, ‘Mind you, it weren’t exactly “English” as we speak it here in Liverpool.’
‘Come on, Mum, take a look. It isn’t going to bite you,’ Luke teased Jean as she looked at her own present, unwilling to open it because it was so prettily wrapped. For all his grown-up manner, Jean could still see in his eyes the eager anxiousness of the little boy who had carefully made her past Christmas presents at school.
Quickly she unwrapped her gift, her eyes widening when she saw the glass bottle of scent inside the elegant box.
‘It’s some of that Chanel No. 5,’ Luke told her. ‘I got some for Grace, an’ all. Only a small bottle mind,’ cos it’s pricey, but our sergeant was with us and it was him that told us to buy it.’
Chanel No. 5. Now Jean and Grace exchanged exclusively female looks, their eyes shining with thrilled awe.
‘Luke, you shouldn’t have gone spending your money on summat so expensive,’ Jean’s voice trembled. Normally if she wore scent it was something like Yardley’s – a bit of Lavender or White Violets, and she bought it herself, Sam not being the type to go buying things like scent. In fact, Sam preferred to give her the money to go out and buy her own present, which meant she normally ended up spending the money on everyone else, as mothers do.
‘Look, Sam.’ Her hand trembled slightly as she held out the bottle so that he could see it, whilst Grace flung her arms around Luke’s neck and hugged him tightly.
‘I’ll wear it on New Year’s Eve. It’s ever such a lovely present, Luke.’
‘What have you brought us?’ Lou demanded eagerly.
‘Open your presents and see,’ Luke told her, then turned