‘She’s lost her Noo-Noo, apparently,’ I explain to Gray. ‘It’s a little blanket, like a comforter, with an animal’s head in the centre.’
Rather unexpectedly, the boy lies down on the floor and begins, very softly, to sing. His voice rises up in the darkness hauntingly, with the most beautiful ring to it. It’s the voice of an angel. ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star—’
At first, it’s hard to hear him but gradually the crying begins to subside. It reduces to a heart-rending, intermittent sniffing sound and the boy slowly snakes his hand up onto the bed. When he covers her hand with his she throws it off, unwilling to be pacified in her anguish. He waits a few seconds and then tries again. This time Billy begins to gently stroke the back of her hand with his fingertips. The little girl, who, I know from the email, is three, is no longer thrashing around inconsolably, having run out of steam. She lies there, prostrate and exhausted.
He continues singing for several minutes, the sound of his achingly beautiful voice so soothing and empathetic that my eyes begin to prickle with tears once again. The creak of a floorboard confirms that this is being filmed through the partially opened bedroom door. When it ends my heart feels full, so great is the love and caring in that little boy’s actions.
‘Ah, that even brought a lump to my throat,’ Gray admits.
‘I know. The grandmother told me that her daughter unexpectedly went into labour an hour earlier and there was a mad dash to get her to the hospital. The baby wasn’t due for another month and, in the panic, they later discovered that the blanket found its way into the overnight bag they’d taken with them. Her granddaughter had been distraught when her parents had left so suddenly, and then losing her treasured Noo-Noo had seemed like the end of the world. They turned everything upside down looking for it, to no avail.’
‘Ah. Poor little thing.’ I can see that Gray is moved.
‘The woman went downstairs to fetch little Maddie a drink of water and when she returned this was the scene she found. Billy finally managed to get Maddie to fall asleep and, a few hours later, a call confirmed that their new baby sister had arrived. Weighing in at only five pounds three ounces, she was tiny, but perfectly healthy. The grandmother said, “I told Billy that he was a little star comforting his sister like that and he is the best big brother in the whole world,” and I agree with her.’
Gray tilts his head, leaning in to rest it against mine.
‘Has Tollie seen it?’
‘Not yet. It came in just before you called. We have some wonderful little stars already lined up this year.’
‘Guess it had better be just the one beer for us tonight, then. We’d best be up at the crack of dawn to get Fisher’s boat all decked out. Can’t have the old girl under-dressed for her first outing of the festive season, now, can we?’
Another thing I love about Gray is that he understood the importance of Santa Ahoy from the outset and even last Christmas, despite juggling the impossible, he was here to captain most of the trips. To some it’s just a cruise in aid of charity, down the canal to the marina and back, with Tollie dressed up as Santa. Kiddies come from all over, and it’s wonderful to see their eyes shining brightly as we sing Christmas songs and Tollie tells one of his wonderful stories. But when the nominations come in for our little stars, kids who have battled through tough times, or are heroes, stepping up when an adult hasn’t been around, those are the boat rides that make our hearts soar.
When I met Gray he quickly realised that my world was here and it always would be. Love me, love my granddad, love my friends. And he was keen to do whatever he could to help. Gray volunteered to take over the role of captain when Fisher handed over his cap, and the use of The Star Gazer, his fifty-seven-foot Colecraft narrowboat. It’s the love of Fisher’s life as it represents a dream, and he spent a year altering the internal layout. After he ripped out the bedrooms, it became a luxury cruiser and his retirement plan. Two years and counting he says, as the magic number fifty-five hovers on the horizon like a beacon.
I think Fisher handed over the reins to Gray as a test, if I’m being truthful. How much did he want to be a part of my life? Gray put his all into it; in doing so, he didn’t just grab a place in my heart, but in the hearts of my Aysbury family. It takes a very special man indeed, given his situation at home, to donate his precious free time. From litter picking, to running raffles at our village fairs, the first two years we were together Gray could always be relied upon to help. Last year was different, but he made it here whenever he could, which wasn’t easy as Rona couldn’t be left alone. Gray would arrange for one of Rona’s friends to sit with her and we accepted that staying over was no longer an option.
His life is split into two very different halves and I bet there are a lot of men out there who wouldn’t be able to cope with that, but Gray does. I’ve tried my best to be accepting of the situation we find ourselves in – one where the future seems full of obstacles. But from what Gray said, is that about to change? Could this be our perfect Christmas, at long last?
2
Santa’s Little Helpers
‘Tollie, my man. How are you doing?’
The sitting room looks like a post office sorting centre for Christmas parcels. Tollie is sitting in his armchair with a folding table in front of him. He looks up from the half-wrapped gift he’s working on, then quickly rips a piece of tape from the dispenser to secure the paper, before sliding the table away from him. At the side of his chair within easy reach are a dozen rolls of wrapping paper. To his right is a pile of empty jute sacks and two more lean against the wall, filled to the brim with donated toys collected throughout the year.
Gray turns to survey the various piles of beautifully wrapped presents, which cover most of the floor. They’re all neatly labelled according to age. Some have silver tags, for girls, and some have red ones, for the boys.
‘Good. Great to see you, Gray. I was hopin’ our captain was on his way. I can relax now.’ Tollie stands and Gray walks over to give him a man-hug. In return he receives a hearty pat on the back. ‘It’s going to be a busy season,’ he adds, looking around him.
‘Well, judging by the amount of donations, we’re going to do the kids proud.’ Gray tips his head, acknowledging Tollie’s efforts.
‘How’s Rona?’
‘Doing well, thanks. It’s work that’s kept me away, this time. I’m on catch up as I fell way behind. I mean… it’s good that I’ve had a big job on and I’m grateful for that, but weekends here are special, and I’ve missed it.’
Gray turns to give me a knowing smile and Tollie laughs.
‘She ain’t the same when you’re not around, that’s for sure.’
‘Tollie!’
‘Just sayin’ it as it is, m’dear.’
I know he has a point. I do try hard not to let Tollie see when I’m really missing Gray, but it’s tough always trying to be upbeat and pretending that I can cope with mine and Gray’s arrangement. Not least because there have been a lot of days recently when I can’t, but it would be unfair of me to admit that. Gray was hoping to move in permanently last Christmas but that was before Rona’s diagnosis.