Page 55 of Break the Ice

From the looks on everyone’s faces, I shouldn’t have put it like that. All the siblings look at their sister and back to me, looking slightly confused. ‘I mean, she’s paid for gas and food and she took me to Stonehenge and she’s been great.’

Ben nods slowly. ‘Phoebe paid for things? That’s new.’

I’m about to say she paid for my pants, but realise that will also have a dual meaning. ‘She can talk, eh?’ I say instead. The siblings are clearly familiar with this and they all laugh. ‘And I’m a New Yorker. I thought I knew people who could talk.’ We all look at her, crouched in the hallway next to the kitchen, braiding Skye’s hair, both of them laughing about something. I like the way Theo climbs on her shoulders, how there’s an obvious bond and how much they adore her. How she clings on to their every word and responds with wonder.

‘But she’s also really whip-smart, hilarious, fun.’ I pause a moment after I say that word out loud. ‘You know, she was determined to deliver that dog on time. I think she would have carried him and run here if she could because she didn’t want to ruin Christmas. I took that as a sign of how much she loves you all.’

I notice Norah’s eyes going serious for a moment as she looks over at her sister, something inside her seeming to mellow.

‘I used to say, if I could harness that talking power, I’d never have to pay for electricity again,’ Malcolm says, joining the chat. ‘So, when we are all done breakfasting, I am wondering if perhaps we need to open some gifts? Before the children start revolting. I’ve kept them out the living room for now but are we all set?’

‘I’ve got Adam putting a bow around the dog’s neck…’ Norah whispers. ‘But yes, let’s… I see you made polvorones.’ They all look at the plate in the middle of the table, piled with cookies dusted with icing sugar. All of them go a little quiet.

‘Not as good as your mother’s but I gave it a good go.’

Flo gets up and gives her dad a big hug while Ben picks one up, bites into it and smiles.

‘Good?’ Malcolm asks him.

‘Perfect, Dad. Perfecto.’

I feel like a complete intruder, as I remember everything Phoebe has told me about her mom.

‘IS IT TIME FOR GIFTS?’ a little Freya-sounding voice screams into the kitchen and Malcolm dims the emotion in his eyes and turns to all his grandchildren.

‘GRANDPA DECLARES GIFT TIME… OPEN!’ he cries. There’s a big family cheer as everyone grabs mugs and breakfast and moves through to the living room. I stop in the hallway for a moment to look at a portrait of a young Phoebe with big frizzy hair and a gappy-toothed smile.

‘Yep, that’s me,’ Phoebe says, leaning in. ‘This is our wall of shame. Go check out Norah and Flo in their double acid wash denim next.’

‘You look…’

‘Extremely happy to be eight years old.’

‘I was going to say super cute.’

‘You lie but I appreciate the kindness, as it’s Christmas. Come on…’ She takes my hand and leads me into the living room, and again this overwhelming warm feeling overtakes me. Under a grand real tree are mounds of gifts wrapped in all different-patterned paper, stockings hang by the fire, roaring out a warm glow, and, in the middle of the room, the children examine the large snowy footprints that let us know Santa has been. The chaos is everything.

‘I feel bad. I haven’t got anything for anyone,’ I whisper to Phoebe as we take our places on a nearby sofa.

‘It’s cool. I put your name on some tags so you don’t look like a Scrooge,’ Phoebe says, watching as the little ones give out the gifts and people start tearing away at paper. Little cries emerge as people are surprised, grateful, completely overwhelmed at what lies underneath.

‘Ben, you shouldn’t have…’

‘I love it. Completely…’

‘I can’t believe you…’

Malcolm puts a flat cap on his head and Flo takes a picture of him. Theo hugs a Lego set. Phoebe is in hysterics at a pair of socks in her hands that seem to be covered in boobs.

‘For you,’ a voice says from behind me. I turn, to see Freya standing there with a gift bag and a tag with my name on.

‘Me?’ I say. ‘I… Really?’

‘We heard you were coming, so we ran to the shops yesterday,’ Norah says. ‘You might need it later, that’s all,’ she adds, beaming at me.

I open the gift bag and pull out… a wetsuit? Really? ‘Thank you?’ I say, confused. I turn to Phoebe. ‘Should I ask?’

‘It’s best that you don’t. But you’ll love it,’ she says. I think that was a wink. I won’t dig.