That Christmas, This Christmas

Chapter One

The radio blares loudly, a relatively unknown Christmas song filling the air. It's one I haven't heard since I was last home for the season.

I grin at the lyrics of Christmas Vacation, memories filling my head, the music warming my veins. It was always Dad's favourite film, and despite my sister, Erica, and I fighting him over watching it way too often, the National Lampoon's movie always ended up being the first festive film we'd watch each year. As soon as December hit, Dad would haul the fairy lights out of the garage, stringing them around our front door before tugging tinsel out of the attic and tucking it around every door frame — finishing everything by dinnertime.

Once the last fork hit their empty plate, he'd usher us into the living room to settle on the huge grey sofa before plugging the DVD player in and turning on his favourite film. Slouching into his own bedraggled green armchair, he'd always have the biggest smile on his face.

And it was that. That small, happy expression was enough for a huge grin to spread across my own face before I'd whack my brother, Charlie, around the head and tell him to stop complaining and just watch the film.

Now, I sing quietly to the merry tune as the radio sizzles, the signal dropping. That's what you get out in the country. Broken, half-sung songs that disappear at random bends in the road. With a sigh, I spot the familiar green signpost at the edge of the road and indicate to turn off, leaving the main road for the quaint, small town of Alford Lakes.

I'm grateful no snow has fallen this year. Two years ago, I ended up on the phone with Dad from the main road, terrified I wasn't going to be able to make it through the frosty ice. He calmed me down, just like he always had, ever since I got behind the wheel at seventeen.

I can't ask him anymore.

I bite my lip. The radio still plays, dipping in and out as I follow the lane. Christmas Vacation is long gone, replaced by other, more familiar holiday tunes. I concentrate on them, not allowing myself to succumb to the heartbreak that fills my chest whenever I wander down the dangerous Dad road.

My old, silver car moves through the thin valley before the hills open up, trees parting to reveal a small town. The town pub is the first thing to come into sight, the deer on the sign sparkling with white lights. Every window is lit, bathing the street in a warm, orange hue. I drive straight past the bar and through the cobbled street of terraced sandstone houses, trying to ignore the nostalgia and memories of him that instantly saturate my mind, before turning off at the town green and falling into a pothole. Groaning, I press down on the accelerator and force myself on, away from the bright lights.

Eventually, I pull onto a messy dirt track, and only ten seconds later, our brick, two-storey family farmhouse sticks out like a sore thumb. My jaw drops at the number of multi-coloured Christmas lights hanging from the roof, the stars illuminating every window, and the angel placed on the porch.

A Christmas tree fills the area in front of the house, an unequal splattering of decor curled around it. The traditional wonky star sits on top, and I can't fight a smile.

It's like Dad's still here.

I pull up beside the tree. Hauling the keys out of the ignition, I take a deep breath. I can do this. It's Christmas. With family. Inhaling again, I nod to myself before shoving the door open and stepping onto the muddy ground. My eyes are fixed on the illuminated house.

'Lara!' Erica squeals, instantly appearing at the front door and sliding past the bow-covered wreath before jumping down the steps towards me.

'Did Christmas throw up on this house?' I tease, as I wrap my arms around my three-years-younger sister.

'We did it for Dad,' she replies, pulling back and looking up at me with twinkling blue eyes. It's like looking at my father all over again.

I smile, turning her around and resting my arm on her shoulder. 'I definitely think he'll be able to see it from up there.'

Erica grins. 'Good.'

'Is that Lara?' My gorgeous, blonde-haired Mum suddenly appears at the oak doorway. She smiles as she makes her way down the wooden stairs.

'Hey, Mum,' I greet, letting her pull me in for a hug. 'How are you?'

'I'm fine.' She brushes off my concern. 'Charlie has been waiting for you all day.'

'As if.' I scoff.

'Something about you being the better sister to drink with,' Mum adds with an amused grin.

'Oh,' I reply, a smirk covering my face. Erica rolls her eyes. 'I can't argue with that.'

'Charlie!' my sister snaps, running into the house. I laugh. Anyone would think she's still fourteen, not twenty.

'Ow.' I grimace as I rub my ears. 'I see Erica is just as loud as always.'

'Nothing has changed,' Mum replies, looping her arm through mine. 'How was the drive?'

'There was no snow,' I report.

She smiles. 'That's good.'

'How are you really, Mum?' I ask and she shrugs.

'I'll be okay, Lara.'

'But—'

'It's our first Christmas without him,' she cuts me off. 'It was always going to be hard. Having all three of you kids home helps.'

'I wouldn't be anywhere else.' Leaning my head on her shoulder, we climb the steps to our home. My siblings' argument is what greets me, and Mum huffs under her breath before we enter the chaos, a huge smile on my face.

There's no longer a huge smile on my face.

I should have fought against this with all my might. I should have insisted we stay home. Instead, I didn't do a damn thing.

'We'll see which sister really does better at drinking,' Erica exclaims as soon as we step into the crowded pub. I shove my hands deep into my furry leopard-print coat and keep my head down to avoid being spotted. It's only going to be a few minutes before someone I know recognises me. That's how it works with small towns. Mrs Hollis from school will catch sight of her old student, Christie will notice the retired barmaid, David Scott will grumble about the town troublemaker being back.

'Are you sure it was a good idea to go out the first night I'm home?' I ask quickly.

Charlie looks down at me and raises an eyebrow. 'Seriously? Do you not remember Mum pushing us out the door so that she can wrap presents in peace?' he reminds me.

I pout. 'Maybe she actually wants—'

'Let it go, Lara,' Erica says, smiling. She grabs hold of my hand, leading me towards the bar. The sight of the mahogany surface, the pub logo covering the drinks mats, the red tumblers filled with paper straws, the gold rim edging every surface... all of it has my heart racing, reality hammering home. I'm back. In Alford Lakes.

The last five times I've visited, I've stayed hidden in the farmhouse, never leaving the safety of our land. Apart from the funeral...

Christie hollers something from across the bar to someone else, wrenching me back to reality. A lump forms in my throat. Swallowing it down, I sidle closer to Charlie.

'I'll find a table,' I tell him in a rush before ducking away. Knowing both of my siblings, if they choose where to sit, we'll be in the middle of the room like zoo animals. And to everyone living here, that's what I am.