No Plan Holidays
The extractor fan hummed away in the kitchen as Andrew reread the message in the family group chat for the third time.
So, howre you all getting on? Were already drowning in salads, as per usual, wrote his wifes cousin, adding an emoji with a sweaty smile.
Andrew set his phone down next to the chopping board, where a lonely carrot was resting. Hed had enough peeling for one night.
More salad updates? asked Nicola, appearing in the doorway with a peg between her teeth. She was hanging freshly washed tea towels up to dry on the radiator before the holiday.
Andrew nodded and jabbed his finger at the screen:
Theyve got three mixing bowls full of salad and a stuffed pike, plus photos as proof.
Nicola took out the peg, glanced at the screen and chuckled,
Well, everyones got their own way of celebrating.
She sounded calm, but Andrew could detect a trace of tension behind it. And it was no wonder, really. December 28th, seven in the evening, and their house wasnt swamped with the usual mountain of menus, shopping lists, or itinerary for picking up various relatives.
Last year at this time, theyd already been racing round the big supermarket with a trolley, squabbling over whether they needed an extra Swiss roll, and arguing because Andrew had forgotten to book a cab for his aunt. The year before had blended into an endless cycle of queues, toasts and washing up till silly oclock. Every year Nicola would say, Next year, well do things differently, but somehow it never happened.
But this December, the reckoning came in the car, outside their house, parked up in the cold. Andrew could still picture them sitting there in the frosty interior, while the quiet snoring of their dog came from the back seat, tired out from trips to the countryside.
I dont want another holiday like this, Nicola had said, her forehead pressed against the steering wheel. Im fed up with spending every celebration locked in the kitchen.
Andrew had sat quietly, looking at the pale glow of Christmas lights in their buildings window. He was fed up too. Of obligatory phone calls, guests who just drop by and end up sleeping over, and that exhausting certainty that he and Nicola were always the ones in charge of other peoples good times.
Lets not do it, hed said. Lets skip the whole marathon this year.
At first, theyd been cautious. Maybe fewer guests; maybe order some food in. Then Nicola had exhaled,
Or what if we dont invite anyone? Well, except Laura, obviously. And my parents, for just one day, max.
He hadnt been surprised by the idea, but by the guilty way shed said itas if suggesting something naughty.
Or what ifno one at all, hed replied. Well drop your parents gifts off on the thirty-first in the afternoon. Stay for a couple of hours. But for the actual night, just us three.
Nicola had been quiet for ages and then nodded. Back then, it all felt a bit like make-believe.
Now, with just three days till the holiday, make-believe was quickly turning into reality.
Mum, Dad, came Lauras voice from the hallwaytheir twenty-year-old daughter. I cant find my boots.
Check under the side table, Andrew replied. You threw them there last night.
Laura materialised in the kitchen, one woollen sock on and clutching her phone.
Found them. Listen, are we really not having anyone round for New Year? I told my mate I couldnt make it because its a family thing at ours.
Well be together, Nicola said. Just not with the full invasion.
So, just me and you two? Laura narrowed her eyes. Youre not going to force me to watch Jools Hootenanny, are you?
Were not watching it either, Andrew said. The plan is to do absolutely nothing. Very busy schedule.
Laura rolled her eyes, shrugged on her puffer and, already winding her scarf, asked,
Does Gran know youre not hosting?
She does, Nicola sighed. And Grandpa, too. They said its odd, but theyll survive.
And Aunt Sue? Laura kept going.
Shes still texting about fish, Andrew replied bleakly.
Laura laughed, waved, and dashed off, slamming the front door. Their dogdozing on the hallway ruglifted her head, huffed, and flopped back down.
Well then, Andrew said, looking at the carrot, Were really doing this.
Nicola didnt reply immediately. She walked to the window, swept back the curtain. Outside, fairy lights already strung up, kids sliding down frosty mounds, parents shifting from foot to foot in winter coats.
Were really doing it, she echoed softly. Its scary, honestly.
December thirty-first didnt begin with an alarm clock. Andrew woke naturally, daylight sneaking through the window, and the first thing he noticed was the peace and quiet. In previous years, by now, thered be pans rattling in the kitchen, soup bubbling away, someone phoning to ask, What time should we come?
Today, just the clock ticking. Lauras room was still shrouded in darkness, door shut. Nicola was beside him, nose buried under the duvet.
Andrew stretched and checked his phonejust a couple of work emails, nothing urgent. His colleagues, only yesterday, had kept wishing each other some proper rest, though everyone knew most would be wrangling with spreadsheets till the last minute.
He grabbed his dressing gown and headed to the kitchen. Coffee. Toast. Cheese. Yesterday Nicola had scribbled their minimalist menu on a scrap:
Olivier salad, herring, something simple and hot. Thats it. Shed stuck it to the fridge with a magnet shaped like the seaside.
Andrew boiled eggs, peeled them, chopped up spam and cucumbers. All of it took less effort than just making a shopping list usually did.
Tipping the ingredients into a big bowl, he felt a pang. The bowl looked suspiciously empty. Previous years, they used one almost the size of a basinPlenty for all, and extra for leftovers. Now, all meant three people.
He caught himself reaching for a second packet of meat, then forced his hand to stop.
Nope, he said aloud. Weve got enough.
Enough for who? Nicola asked, shuffling in wearing her dressing gown, hair tousled.
For us. The salad. Im not prepping for an army this year.
She peered into the bowl, frowning.
It looks small.
Theres only three of us, he reminded her.
Yes, but She prodded it with a spoon, checking depth. What if someone pops by?
We agreedno ones popping by.
She shrugged, poured herself a coffee.
You know, she said, leaning back against the counter, I kept thinking Mum would call and say theyre dropping in anyway. And I wouldnt be able to refuse.
Shell ring, Andrew agreed. Just tell her well come by tomorrow. Like planned.
Nicola sighed and took a sip.
All right. Lets see how it goes.
They loaded the car at midday, bags of presents and the pie Nicola had baked just in case on the back seat. The drive to her parents was forty minutes, Andrew cracking jokes about the traffic; Laura scrolling through memes about the end-of-year chaos.
Nicola immediately disappeared into the kitchen with her mum, even though shed sworn she wouldnt. Andrew toasted with his father-in-law, chatted politics and petrol prices. Nicolas mum grumbled about how its just not the same now, and kept glancing at the clock when Nicola reminded her theyd leave early.
How can you see in the new year just the three of you? her mum asked as they pulled their coats on. And what about Sue and the kids?
Sues hosting at hers for a change, Nicola replied, looping her scarf. Were doing it differently this time.
Differently, differently her mum muttered. Used to be wed all gather, have a laugh together.
Nicola felt that thud of guilt rising inside. She almost blurted out, All right, come round tonight, but Andrew, as if he could sense it, placed a hand on her shoulder.
Well be back tomorrow, he said gently. Nice and calm. Tonight, its our turn to stay in.
Nicolas mum looked at him, then at Nicola, and sighed.
Well, its your choice. Just dont be upset if you feel left out later.
On the drive home, Nicola was silent. Laura was in her group chat again, laughing at voice notes.
Mum, she said, putting her phone down, Theyre all debatingis it better at home or in a club? One says family is sacred, another reckons live it up while you can. What do you think?
I think sacred is not collapsing face-first in your food from knackeredness, Nicola muttered.
I think, Andrew added, Next year you can go wherever. Well survive.
Laura snorted.
Well see. This year Im with you, next year who knows.
By eight the flat was weirdly quietand spacious. Just three plates on the table, a modest bowl of salad, herring, roast chicken, and a bottle of Prosecco. The fairy lights twinkled on the window, not half as showy as at her parents where the whole clan usually squashed in.
Feels empty, Nicola said, straightening napkins.
Its normal, Andrew replied. Were just used to the racket.
Laura emerged in jeans and a jumper, no party dresswhich Nicola would always buy in advance.
So, whats the dress code? Laura asked, doing a twirl. Thought Id be forced to smarten up.
Our dress code is whatever you fancy, Andrew quipped.
Blimey, Laura said. You two seem suspiciously relaxed.
They sat down. The telly was on as background, but not blasting choir numbers. Andrew had found an old movie that he and Nicola used to love as students.
Lets skip the endless new year specials, he suggested. Fancy a quiet one.
What about Big Ben? Laura asked.
Well keep the chimes, Nicola said. Im not ready to go totally rogue.
They ate and chatted. Laura told them about her lecturer whod set holiday homeworkconsider your future, and her classmates had been arguing all afternoon about what that even meant. Nicola kept realising she wasnt jumping up to warm food or fetch snacks. Andrew noticed how comfortable it was, with no one needing to budge for a random guest.
At nine, Aunt Sue rang.
So, hows your lot? she asked. Were packed in here, the kids are nuts, nowhere for the salads in the fridge. Shame you arent here. Its great fun.
Nicola, phone to her ear, looked at their modest spread, at Laura laughing with Andrew over a silly video, and felt a pang.
Were all good here, she said. Trying it a different way this year.
Yeah, I heard, Sue replied, with a note of hurt. Well, I wont keep you. Happy New Year.
After that, Nicola went back to the table but couldnt shake the feeling. The words shame you arent with us buzzed around her mind.
You okay? Andrew asked when Laura ducked out to the kitchen for juice.
Im fine, Nicola replied a tad too quickly. Just feels odd.
At half-eleven, her phone buzzed again. The family group this time. Photos of tables loaded with food, kids wrapped in tinsel, captions like, Sad you couldnt come, Not the same without you. Someone even posted an old snap of her and Andrew standing at the backknackered but smiling bravely.
Nicola stared at the old photo, and suddenly it hit her. Her chest tightened, eyes prickling.
Ive ruined everything, she blurted out. Theyre all together, andlook at us.
Were together too, Andrew said softly.
But its not the same, she shot up. Look, theyre having a blast. And were here, just us threelike we werent invited to the party.
We were invited, he reminded her. We chose not to go.
Maybe we made the wrong choice, Nicola muttered, agitated. Maybe we shouldve done it the usual way. Ill message and say were coming. Its not too late.
Mum? Laura had come back and stopped in the doorway. Whats up?
Its nothing, Nicola answered, voice trembling. Just being silly.
She grabbed her phone, opened the chat, started typing: Well drop by after all, if its not too late Her fingers shook.
Andrew looked at her, knowing this was the slippery slope. Tomorrow, theyd wake up frazzled, another holiday given over for someone elses sake.
Nicky, he said quietly, stepping over and gently holding her wrist, Stop for a second.
Let go, she said, not meeting his eyes. I only want to see if its too late. What if theyre waiting?
Theyre waiting every year, he told her. The real question iswhat are we waiting for?
Laura clutched her juice carton to her chest, watching. Her expression flickereduncertainty then decision.
Mum, she said, stepping in. Honestly? Im glad were home. I didnt want to say, so I wouldnt upset Gran, but these big gatherings are tough for me too. Every year I sit at that long table wishing it was already over.
Nicola looked up at her.
Really? she asked.
Really, Laura nodded. I love everyone, I do. But when it starts to feel like a duty, I just want to run away. Tonight its peaceful.
Nicola put her phone down. The unsent message flashed on the screen.
Im scared well become outsiders, she admitted. That no one will invite us anymore, and well end up alone.
We wont be strangers, Andrew said. We just dont have to be everywhere, all the time. Sometimes, home is enough.
He spoke calmly, though he too felt a twinge at the edgesfear of stepping outside the family script, not fitting into the usual crowd. But hed made his peace with that, a bit sooner.
Lets leave it, he said. Tonight, as planned, we stay put. Tomorrow, if we fancy it, well visit. Not because we should, because we actually want to.
Laura nodded.
And next time, well decide first what suits us, she added. No more just following autopilot.
Nicola wiped her face, breathing deep.
Okay, she said. Tonight, we stay in.
She erased the half-written message, locked her phone, placed it face down.
I still feel guilty, though, she admitted. Like weve abandoned someone.
Itll take more than one evening to shake it, Andrew said. Weve done things the same way for years.
Can I say something a bit cheeky? Laura piped up. Maybe youve all been dragging each other along, and you couldve said stop ages ago.
Nicola let out a laugh, half tearful,
Cheers, Captain Obvious.
Youre welcome, Laura answered, deadly serious.
They drifted back to the table. An hour till midnight. Concerts flickered on TV, but no one listened.
Lets play something, Andrew suggested. Instead of clock-watching.
Cards? Laura perked up.
Cards it is, then.
They dealt out the pack, bickered about rules, and laughed every time Laura tried to sneak a look. Nicola found herself giggling for realnot the polite kind she did at those big tables, always worrying about others moods.
When midnight came, they tuned in for the chimes. Glasses were raisedhealth, and rest. That wish came out almost by accident, but it felt exactly right.
I hope you two learn how to rest this year, Laura said, lifting her juice. And I do too.
Hear, hear, Andrew grinned.
Well give it a go, Nicola smiled.
The first days of their break passed lazily. They genuinely let themselves sleep until ten, sometimes eleven. Andrew finally picked up the book hed bought months ago, reading prone on the sofa in his joggers. Nicola flicked through old photos on her laptopno pressure to post anything festive, just for the fun of it.
Laura split her time: some days out walking with her mates, others at home watching series and sketching. Occasionally, all three would stroll to the park, watching kids slide on the ice, adults clutching takeaway coffees.
For a moment, Andrew realised he was bored. Not work-bored, just unused to such calm. Like he was wasting time.
He wandered to the window, watching teens launching fireworks in broad daylight, and a tiny anxiety tweaked insidewas he doing life wrong? Shouldnt he be using this time better?
Nicky, he called, Should we go somewhere? Shopping centre, or the cinema? Feels like were sort of stuck.
Nicola looked up from her laptop.
I dont fancy the shops, she said. Too crowded. Cinema, maybe, but not today. I just started enjoying not having anything on.
Just like that Andrew repeated. But what if we never do anything useful these holidays?
And what counts as useful? she asked.
I dunno, he muttered, scratching his head. Clear out the storage? Pop round to my folks. Visit your aunt. Paint the bathroom.
Bathroom DIY over the holidaysthats ambitious, she teased. Well visit your parents, sure. Im not anti-people, only anti-constant rushing.
Andrew felt a touch of irritation rise.
Well, I cant just laze around. Feels like Im slacking.
You work hard all year, she said gently. Its okay to be unproductive for a week.
You say that easily, he grumbled, heading for the kitchen.
He found himself reorganising the plastic bag drawer for no real reason; after five minutes, even he had to laugh at how silly it was. Yet, the restlessness wouldnt shift.
That evening he scrolled through social media. Everyone seemed to be skiing in Europe, sipping cocktails abroad, hitting steam rooms, all gleefully captioned: Active holiday!, No couch-potatoing here!
Andrew felt himself bristleat them, at himself, for feeling that pull to measure up.
Youre in a mood, Laura said, peeking over his shoulder.
Just look at this. People are living properly, and were just He trailed off.
Were living toojust not like them, she said. Pausing, she went on,
Want me to teach you how not to look for places to compare?
He smirked,
Now youre teaching your old man lessons.
Well, you teach us stuff too, Laura shrugged. I know not to drink coffee past six or Ill be up all night.
She snatched his phone, scrolled up and down,
Look, this guys in Scotland somewhere. Looks great, but probably knackered from getting there. This ones at the spahot and sweaty. Youre home, in comfy trousers, nothing expected. Thats a win.
Sounds like you think its an accomplishment, he chuckled.
For you lot it is, Laura replied seriously. Youre all a bit allergic to relaxing.
He wanted to protest, but nothing came.
The next day, they had a proper row. Nothing major, but annoying. Andrew lost himself in a series all morning; Nicola drifted around, tidying bits shed been meaning to sort. Eventually, she snapped.
Youve been glued to the screen all day, your eyesll go square.
And youve moved stuff around all dayis that better?
Im at least getting things done.
So am I! Im having a rest.
Thats not restthats hiding.
He paused the telly and turned.
And your tidying isnt hiding? You cant just sit and do nothingyou have to fix something.
They stared at each other, both seeing a reflection of their own anxieties in the other.
Tell you what, Nicola sighed, letting her shoulders drop. Half the day you binge your shows, half the day I leave everything where it is. And nobody gets to moan.
Deal, he nodded. Plus, at least once a day we do something togetherwhatever it is.
Walk together, she suggested. Or a film.
Board games! Laura yelled from the hallwayshed overheard nearly everything. I vote board games.
Thus, they created their first holiday rule. It didnt erase all old habits, but it gave them a bit of structure. Andrew watched his series less guiltily; Nicola sometimes plopped down beside him, hands empty, nothing on her agenda.
A few days later, they visited Andrews parents. It was still lively, but nowhere near as hectic as before. His folks were older, visitors fewer. They ate pie, chatted about weather and health.
Why are you two so free this year? Andrews father asked over tea. You used to be booked up all the time.
Started giving ourselves some breathing space, Andrew replied.
Good move, his mum agreed unexpectedly. All that hostingjust enjoy yourselves this once.
Andrew was surprised. Hed braced for guilt-tripping, but got support. Back in the car, he shared this with Nicola.
See? he said. Not everyone thinks weve turned traitor to the clan.
Maybe its just me, Nicola admitted. Years of following the same pathits hard to change.
We dont have to change it all at once. Little steps.
She nodded.
For the rest of the break, they lived in steps. One day at home, reading and making simple grub. Another day saw them trekking through central Londonadmiring the festive streets, ducking into a cosy café, with no one to fuss over or say goodbye to.
You know, Nicola said, nursing a mug of hot chocolate at the window, I suddenly like not having a daily agenda. When I wake up I dont think whats demanded of me but what do I fancy?
And today? Andrew asked.
She paused, considering. Nothing special. Just walking together.
He grinned.
And Id like to stop berating myself for not having something special happening.
Thats harder, she replied.
We can practise.
They quietly watched passersbyrushing with shopping bags, snapping photos by the tree, wrangling tired kids. Everyone with their own sort of holiday.
On the final day of their holiday, it was crisply cold and clear. Laura had gone to see a friend, promising to be back for tea. The flat was especially peaceful.
Fancy the park? Andrew suggested. Just us. No dog, no crowd.
Id love to, Nicola answered.
They wrapped up and headed out. Snow squeaked under their boots, the air stung their cheeks. The park was less crowded than at the start of January. A few people skating, others pushing prams.
They walked in silence, sometimes swapping brief remarks. The quiet felt comfortable. Nicolas mind already stirred with work emails, calls, requests to cover, help, organise. But alongside all that hovered an unexpected sense of peace.
You know, she said as they paused at a bench, I thought if we didnt host a big do this year Id somehow break inside. That Id stop beinga good daughter, good homemaker.
And? Andrew asked.
Nothings broken, she smiled. Turns out you can be alright without all that.
I thought if I wasnt useful all the time, Id end upunwanted, Andrew admitted. But turns out you can just lounge about and still matter. At least to you and Laura.
To Laura, especially, Nicola nodded. She watches everything.
They walked on a bit, eventually sitting down on a bench. Andrew took off a glove, held her hand.
How about this, he suggested. Next year, lets not automatically invite everyone. First, well figure out what suits us, then see if it fits with the rest.
Deal, she said. If I start panicking and messaging everyone, stop me.
And if I start booking us for everything, you stop me.
Deal.
They sat a little longer before heading home. The block smelled of pine and oranges; someone upstairs played music, but not too loud.
At home, Andrew boiled the kettle and fetched the biscuit tin. Nicola lit a candle on the windowsill, more out of old winter habit than decor.
Dyou reckon, she said, pouring the tea, Well always do it this way? No more marathons?
Ive no idea, truly, Andrew answered. Maybe one year well want a big crowd again. But at least now itll be our choice, not a must.
She nodded. The anxiety was there, but it didnt run the show anymore.
That night Laura returned, nose red, smiling.
My friends parents went off to a spa retreat, she said while taking her shoes off. Left her a note: Were off to rest. Youre grown-up, youll be fine. She was miffed at first, but then she said it was sort of brilliant.
There you have it, Andrew said. Everyones learning.
Im learning too, Laura added. I figured out I like it when you two slow down and hang out at homeeven when you squabble over telly and carrier bags.
Nicola laughed.
Well try to be just home more often, she replied.
All three squeezed onto the sofa, watching Lauras film pick. Their tea grew cold on the table and biscuits left crumbs everywhere. Outside, a few fireworks flickered in the darkness, drowned out by their gentle laughter.
The holiday theyd both feared missing out on wasnt where the noise was loudest. It turned out to be right here: three people letting themselves rest together, not proving anything about how New Year ought to be spent.
And really, that was enough.
