Why Is The Christmas Tree Up?

Alice stared, brow furrowed, at the Christmas tree standing proudly in the big bay window, its lights twinkling gently against the sunny blue sky. A furry bumblebee buzzed lazily past the window and plopped itself onto her mother’s prized hydrangeas (which Alice could tell she’d been secretly watering despite the hosepipe ban, as she did every year).

“Mum? Why is the Christmas tree up?!”

“What, dear?”

“The Christmas tree. Why is it up?”

Alice listened to her mother bustling around the kitchen, the kettle whistling as it came to the boil. She heard the cupboard door creak, the one that had creaked since she was a little girl, and then the familiar sound of how her mother placed mugs on the kitchen counter, one-two, so deliberately, and poked her head round the door.

“Mum?!”

“Hmmm?”

“Why have you put the Christmas tree up in August?”

Her mother grabbed the kettle and stared at it intently as she poured hot water into the mugs.

“I… I was just checking all the decorations. You know, making sure the bulbs in the string lights are all working and so on.”

“Okay… Why?”

“Well, I was just thinking about how it will be Molly’s first Christmas this year and I want everything to be perfect.”

“It’s not Molly’s first Christmas though? She was born last June.”

“Well…of course I know that, you silly goose! I mean, it’s the first Christmas that she can really join in. She was just a baby last year, all they do is sleep at that age. This year we’ll have a little one toddling around. I’m just so excited!”

“Right. I see. So, everything’s working fine?”

“Yes, yes. Doesn’t it look lovely?”

“Like always, Mum. Your Christmas is always perfect.”

“The most wonderful time of the year,” said her mother. Her eyes drifted to the framed photo on the wall of Alice and her sister as little girls, sitting in front of that same immaculately decorated and gently twinkling tree, clutching brand-new Barbies. “Here you are, love.” She handed Alice a steaming tea in the Santa Claws mug she’d given her for Christmas a few years ago, chuckling as if it were the cleverest pun ever made. Alice frowned at the grinning little cat in its bright red Santa hat.

***

“Hiya Mum, it’s me!” Alice shouted as she opened the front door with her elbow, arms laden with brightly-wrapped gifts.

“Hello, dear,” her mother said, emerging from the kitchen in a jolly apron and a tinsel headband. She gave Alice a big hug. “Sarah and the baby are already here.”

“She has a name, you know,” called Sarah from the living room.

“Sarah!” Alice tipped the presents onto the sofa as her younger sister wrapped her in a big hug.

“She keeps calling Molly ‘the baby’.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “How rude!”

“Who’s my favourite niece?” said Alice, tickling little Molly who was rummaging intently through the box of Christmas decorations. “Hang on, why are these still out?”

“Mum hadn’t done the tree, can you believe it?!”

“…What?”

“Yeah. Got here this morning and there were no decorations up at all. We’ve spent the whole day making it look Christmassy.”

“Huh? Why wasn’t the tree up?”

“Said she’s been too busy.”

“Too busy to decorate for her favourite holiday? She’s retired, what’s she on about?”

“I can hear you talking about me, you cheeky mares,” called their mother cheerily from the hallway. She walked in, wiping her hands on her apron. “Us retired people have lives too, you know! We don’t just sit around all day waiting for our children to come and visit.”

“So what have you been doing, Mum? You always decorate for Christmas the minute it turns December.”

“Oh, never mind that, Alice,” their mother said, waving her hands and chuckling. “Now that we’re all here, Christmas can properly start. Who wants prosecco?!”

“Yes please!” the sisters chorused.

***

“Mum?” Alice headed straight for the kitchen. That’s usually where she could find her mother. No sign.

“Mum?” She walked towards the living room, but she could feel already that it was cold and empty. She poked her head round her head round the door, and stopped short. Her mouth dropped open.

The room was empty except for the large, green Christmas tree, its lights blinking relentlessly, on and off, on and off.

“What the hell?” she muttered to herself, and resumed the search. “Mum?” she called, her voice a little higher than usual.

She took the stairs two at a time, her heart racing.

“Mum?” she shouted frantically, knocking whilst opening the bedroom door.

Her mum was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.

“Mum?” Alice said softly, and sat down next to her.

“Hello, dear,” her mother said quietly, and smiled at her.

“What are you doing up here? Why are you still in your pjs?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Oh. Two o’clock? I… Well, I’m not very well today, that’s all. I just stayed in bed because I was feeling a little under the weather.”

“Sorry to hear that, Mum.” Alice squeezed her gently. “You’re freezing! Why isn’t the heating on? It’s February for goodness’s sake. Have you eaten anything today?”

“I…no I haven’t.”

“Have you even had a cup of tea?”

“I told you, I’m not feeling well. I’ve just stayed in bed all day.”

“How do you feel now? Do you want to take some medicine?”

“No, I’m alright now.”

“Mum, why is the Christmas tree still up?”

“What?” Her mother’s face crinkled in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I just looked in the living room, and you’ve still got the Christmas tree up and the lights on. Usually everything’s down by 12th January.”

“Oh Alice, it’s not easy hauling all these decorations up and down. It’s bloody hard work, you know! I’m an old lady now! I was exhausted after Christmas. Every year, you all come round here, I’m cleaning for weeks beforehand, shopping, planning meals, getting in all your favourite treats… You like Twiglets but Sarah likes Sensations. You like Roses but Sarah likes Heroes. You like sprouts and Sarah doesn’t. Sarah likes carrots but you don’t… I’m buying presents for you, your sister and the baby, I’m cooking endlessly for days, and then cleaning everything all up afterwards. And nobody else lifts a finger! Maybe you could have helped me for once! And now you’ve got the cheek to come here and tell me I haven’t taken the tree down quickly enough. Well, excuse me.”

“Mum, Mum, calm down. I’m sorry. Work is just so busy. It’s not easy to get down here from London. But you’re completely right, I should help more. I’m sorry. I know Christmas is hard work. It really is the best part of our year and you always make it amazing. Sarah and I just love coming home for Christmas so much. But we should help more. Listen, you get dressed and I’ll go down and make you some tea and toast, then I’ll take the tree down.”

“Okay. Thank you, love.”

***

“Mum! Happy birthday!” Alice stepped into the hallway and heard the sound of happy chatter coming from the kitchen.

“Hi Auntie Doreen. Cath! Lovely to see you. Hello, Sue,” she said, exchanging hugs around the table.

“Hiya, Mum!” she wrapped her mother in a big hug, set a big bunch of her favourite daffodils down in front of her, and handed her a neatly-wrapped present with a big bow. “Open it!”

Her mother squealed in excitement like a little girl. “Ooh, thank you, dear.” She ripped open the wrapping paper to reveal a silver photo frame with a beautiful picture of Molly in front of the Christmas tree smiling widely as she waved some gold tinsel. “Oh… It’s a… Christmas baby.”

“What? Mum, it’s Molly.”

“Molly…?”

“Molly?! Your granddaughter?!”

“Oh yes, right you are. Sorry love, I don’t have my glasses on. Isn’t she adorable? Look Sue, this is my granddaughter at Christmas. Oh, just look at that little outfit. ‘Santa’s Little Helper.’ Ha! Thank you, dear, I love it. Ooh, could you put the daffs in some water and take them into the living room. Thanks, love.”

Alice gave her another hug and rummaged under the sink for a nice vase. She filled it with water, plopped the flowers inside and took them through to the living room. She stopped dead in her tracks. In the bay window, against a sunny blue sky, the Christmas tree stood, staring at her, lights blinking softly.

***

Alice stood at the door with her mother and waved goodbye to her aunt Doreen and their friends.

“Mum?”

“Come on dear, let’s have a cup of tea.”

“Mum, why have you put the Christmas tree up again? At this time of year?”

“Alice, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Mum?”

“You know how much I love Christmas! And it was my birthday, and I felt like putting it up. Can’t I just have a little joy around here? It’s so bright and beautiful and it makes me happy! It brings back such lovely memories of us all from Christmas. Your dad always loved Christmas so much too. It’s when we were all happiest.”

Alice saw a tear trickle down her mother’s cheek and felt her throat constricting. “I’m sorry, Mum. It just surprised me to see it. I get worried sometimes about you here all alone.”

“I’m fine, love. Just getting nostalgic in my old age. The Christmas tree reminds me of us all sitting in front of it together. The best memories of my life are you all sitting in front of that tree.”

“Mine too, Mum. Love you.” Alice put her arms around her mother and gave her a big hug. She was so little now, as small and light as a little girl. It was as if they’d traded places.

***

“We’re here, Mum! Are you ready?”

Alice opened the door with her key. She found her mother sitting in the living room, staring into space. Alice looked to the window, and there, glaring back at her, lights blinking incessantly, was the Christmas tree. Alice sighed and bit her lip. She sat down gently next to her mother.

“Mum? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, hello dear.” Her mother turned slowly, her eyes struggling to focus.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Where are we going, love?”

“We’re going to the beach, remember?”

“Oh, okay.”

“Mum?” Alice said, gently. “Why is the Christmas tree up?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Alice felt the tears rush to her eyes.

“I don’t know why it’s up.” Her mother started to cry.

“It’s okay, Mum. It’s okay.” Alice put her arms around her mother and felt her heart aching unbearably. “Don’t worry, it will be okay.”

***

“Hello, Mum,” Alice said, giving her mother a big hug.

“Hi, Doreen,” her mother said, wrapping her arms around her tightly. “I’m glad you’re here, it’s so bloody boring in this place!”

“It’s me, Mum. Alice.”

“Oh yes, right you are, dear.”

Alice busied herself with putting Christmas cards up on the windowsill. “The tree looks lovely out there.”

“Oh yes, the ladies have done a good job of the tree, to be fair to them. About the only thing they do a good job of though, mind you. Wasted on the other inmates. They don’t notice a thing.”

“Oh, Mum, don’t call them inmates.”

“Well, that’s what we are.”

Alice sighed. A flash of silver sticking out of the bin in the corner caught her eye. She extricated it from the old tissues and paper cups and saw it was Molly in her Santa’s Little Helper outfit. “Why’s this in the bin?”

“Oh, just chuck it, Doreen! I keep trying to get rid of it and someone keeps putting it back up! What do I want a photo of some random baby for?”

“It’s not a random baby, Mum. It’s Molly.”

“Molly? I don’t know any Mollys. Just throw it away, or give it to the old bat next door, she’s got lots of pictures of babies in her room. Said she doesn’t know who they are, she just thinks they’re cute.”

Alice sighed and put the photo frame back up on the desk. “So are you looking forward to Christmas dinner? Are they doing turkey? Will they have sprouts?”

“Well, they said they’re doing turkey with all the trimmings, but I know it won’t be a patch on mine.”

“Of course not, Mum, no one’s Christmas dinner could ever be a patch on yours,” said Alice fiercely, squeezing her mother’s hand. Her mother didn’t even notice the tears sliding down Alice’s face.

***

Alice walked past the forlorn little Christmas tree, lights blinking lazily in the gloomy hallway of the memory unit. She paused on the threshold of her mother’s room, gathered herself, and pasted a cheery smile on her face. “Merry Christmas, Mum!” she said, in the cheeriest tone she could muster.

Her mother rolled over and fixed Alice with an icy glare.

“Who are you?”