Five Ladies Go Skiing: A feel-good novel of friendship and love. Karen AldousЧитать онлайн книгу.

       MEET THE GIRLS – Preparing for Switzerland

       Ginny

      As Ginny stepped out into the dining area, the candlelit festive dining table caught her breath. She shuddered at the sting in the backs of her eyes.

      ‘Oh, it’s …’ The amber flickering mixed with the sparkle of the decorations toyed with her emotions. They looked almost too cheerful. ‘It’s gorgeous,’ she said, blinking away those brimming tears. Her daughter Rachel and daughter-in-law Clemmie had laid it beautifully, and Ginny’s heart swelled at the effort each of her children and in-laws, even the grandchildren, had made on this difficult day: their first Christmas without their father and grandfather. It just didn’t feel right to enjoy Christmas without him.

      The family waited in silence for her to be seated, watching as she wiped a stray tear from her face and pulled on a band at the back of her head, unleashing her mane of shoulder-length hair that she had tied back before preparing dinner.

      ‘You’ve all made such an effort. Thank you,’ she said smiling at each of them as she nestled in the chair and smoothed her hair. ‘OK, let’s enjoy,’ she added, grateful for their input. Thank goodness Rachel and Ross had helped in the kitchen getting everything into the right serving dishes. The morning had been manic. In fact, the whole week had. It had been a rush trying to fit everything in before her ski trip to Switzerland. The effort involved in getting time off work for a hair appointment, getting to the farm shop for the last-minute veg, fruit and salad, cleaning the house, cooking the meats and prepping in readiness for the family’s arrival had all proved to be worth it. She had forgotten just how much Mike used to contribute to helping around the house, particularly at Christmas and family gatherings. He always prepped the veg and was a dab hand at juggling the food around in the fridge so that beers and wine would fit in. They were small things that counted in a big way.

      She heaved out a sigh. At least they were all together. She raised her Prosecco-filled glass, first to her daughter Rachel and son Ross who sat either side of her, then to the others.

      ‘Well, shall we …?’ Ginny waited for each of her family to pick up a filled glass or, in the children’s case, plastic flutes of lemonade.

      ‘Merry Christmas, Mum,’ Rachel cheered in unison with Ross, and Ginny’s eyes glistened mirroring theirs, her gaze flicking quickly to their partners and children gathered around the festive-food-filled table.

      ‘Hope you’re feeling our cheer, Dad,’ Rachel hailed, peering out of the window and up at the grey sky. ‘We miss you loads but we’ll always cherish our lovely memories. Merry Christmas.’

      ‘Absolutely,’ Ginny rushed in after a gulp of the bubbly, trying again to steel herself against the constant burning in the backs of her eyes; but then catching a glimpse of Rachel’s lips quivering, a sudden gasp escaped her throat. ‘Me … merry Ch … Christmas, Mike.’ It was only the third time they had all been together since Mike’s passing but it wasn’t getting any easier.

      Ross reached for his mother’s wrist, his caring green-grey eyes, so like his father’s, misting. ‘You OK, Mum?’

      Ginny reached for her napkin, holding back sobs as five-year-old Tommy, Rachel’s eldest, gazed at her, concerned. ‘Yes, yes. I’ll be all right. Truly. I knew it would be tough. Our first Christmas without him. I know it’s difficult for all of you too.’

      ‘I miss Grandad,’ Tommy said. ‘He’s going to miss me opening my presents.’

      A symphony of swallowing and gasping sounds resonated around the table and, like her mother, the petite Rachel grabbed her napkin and wiped her eyes as she turned to her son. ‘I know, darling, but he’s here in spirit. We just have to deal with the rest.’ She turned to the empty chair then back to her son. ‘We’ll get used to it; we have to. Come on, there’s a good boy, get your dinner.’

      Ross leaned back, nervously rubbing his four-year-old daughter Amelia’s back and faced his mother. ‘If you don’t mind, Mum,’ he said hesitantly, ‘I’d like to ring you on Monday, the twenty-eighth, the anniversary. A bit selfish I know, but I just want to know that you’re all right.’

      ‘Me too,’ Rachel added, gently squeezing her mother’s hand.

      Fighting yet another lump in her throat, Ginny smiled as she glanced at each of her children. An image of Mike amused her. It was one from years ago when he was teasing Ross’s friends that the Friends comedy characters were named after his kids. As much as she wondered and tortured herself about what Mike may or may not have done, he was still their children’s dad and they had loved him unconditionally and were both coping so well with his loss. The urge to jump up and kiss them both became overwhelming.