Christmas Wishes: From the Sunday Times bestselling and award-winning author of romance fiction comes a feel-good cosy Christmas read

by Sue Moorcroft

  Nico slid his arm around her but looked at Loren. ‘You’ll remember we discussed this. Part of the reason I moved to Middledip was its small and friendly village school. I’ve sent you updates on visiting the school and that Josie liked it. I also forwarded the email offering Josie a place.’ Nico knew she’d only had access to her phone at certain times in rehab – but she wasn’t in rehab. She was here, after only twelve days of the projected twenty-eight.

  ‘Of course.’ Loren smiled vaguely.

  Josie’s smiles had completely vanished and her voice might even have held a note of challenge when she said, ‘We’re going to have Christmas here with Hannah and Nan Heather. Dad’s ordered lots of nice food from Tesco.’

  ‘Who are Hannah and Nan Heather?’ Vivvi asked. ‘New friends?’

  Josie nodded emphatically. ‘Nan Heather’s very, very old. Dad knew her when he was young here with his friend Rob. And Farfar used to work near here, didn’t he, Dad?’

  He smiled at her. ‘That’s right.’ He had a bad feeling. It wasn’t that Hannah’s name had come up – he and Loren were divorced and the evidence as to why was currently sitting on his lap and slurping juice. But Loren’s unscheduled visit must have an agenda and it was tricky dealing with someone who had a different view of reality to yourself, especially when they were in stealth mode.

  ‘Hannah’s Rob’s sister, and me and Maria like her a lot,’ Josie added. Then, picking perhaps not the best moment for a candid question, she peeped at him. ‘Is Hannah your girlfriend now, Dad? I saw you cuddling at Farmor’s house.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said gently. Ideally, he would have checked with Josie that his relationship was OK with her and he hadn’t agreed terms of reference with Hannah either but at least the casual question indicated a willingness for Josie to absorb Hannah’s presence in her life.

  Both Loren and Vivvi greeted the news in silence.

  Josie had never met a silence she couldn’t fill. ‘Hannah went to Sweden with us and she can whoosh along on ice skates, like Dad does! And we made a snowman family of us in Farfar’s garden.’

  Nico could have changed the slant by explaining that Hannah joined their winter trip to help with the girls after Lars was rushed into hospital with a heart attack. He didn’t. Everything had changed last week and Loren was entitled to know who was playing a part in Josie’s life and how better than from Josie’s own lips?

  It was another half hour before coffee was drunk and Maria had got over her shyness sufficiently to accept a hug from her mother. Nico wanted to get to the bottom of Loren’s visit. ‘I bet Grandma would love to see yours and Maria’s bedroom,’ he said to Josie.

  Vivvi must have been in accord with his wish to speak to Loren alone because she jumped at his plan. ‘That would be great!’

  ‘Yeah!’ Josie leaped to her feet. Maria, her faithful shadow, cooed, ‘Yeah!’ too and leaped to hers. Their voices travelled through the sitting room and faded up the stairs.

  When footfall told him they had reached the room over his head, Nico propped his elbows on the table. ‘You’re still scheduled to be in rehab, aren’t you? Or are you out for Christmas holidays, like at school?’

  Loren looked away and sighed. ‘When you’re trying to give something up, the desire has to come from inside. Rehab’s an intolerable regime. And therapy feels like punishment.’ She continued irritably, explaining, excusing, making the system sound the next thing to abuse.

  ‘So you’ve left? What’s your next step?’ he asked, his stomach shifting uneasily. Her artificiality with the girls and the surprise element left him in no doubt the visit wasn’t simply the result of maternal yearnings.

  She uttered a manufactured laugh. ‘I’m going to sort myself out. No one knows me better than me, after all – my body and mind, my strengths and weaknesses. I know where to get support rather than having “changes” and “choices” forced down my throat.’

  With a sinking feeling, Nico recognised this Loren. Unwilling or unable to give up prescription meds under rehabilitation’s professional and properly resourced support she was kidding herself she felt strong enough to beat addiction, although she’d never exhibited that strength before. This was Loren not dealing with real life in exactly the same way she’d refused to accept her pregnancy with Maria until she was more than four months gone or refused to accept Nico was ending their marriage until the fifth communication from his solicitor. This was the Loren who used to use alcohol as a crutch and snapped at him for intimating it might be a problem. Only weeks ago he’d found her in drugs and alcohol-induced insensibility and she’d begged him to look after Maria … yet she was weaving a picture in which she felt safe and justified in her actions.

  She embarked on a repetition of her intention to coach herself out of her addiction but he interrupted her. ‘How?’

  She stopped. ‘What?’

  ‘How? What’s your plan? What will you put in place to make recovery possible?’ He left the question wide open but the specific subjects he saw as top of the list were childcare and income. Upstairs, footsteps clunked across the floor and Maria giggled, apparently restored to her usual sunny self.

  Loren finally met his gaze, eyes shimmering with tears. Instead of answering his question she said, ‘I’m sorry I was unfaithful, Nico. It was a mistake.’

  Shock tingled through him that she’d try and construct her false reality from that far back. ‘A mistake? You didn’t trip up and land on the guy,’ he pointed out. He didn’t actually say alcohol had played its part in her hook-up. Loren knew it. He knew it.

  The tears welled over the rim of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. The short December day was darkening outside the window. She lunged suddenly, taking him by surprise, clasping his arms and digging her fingers in. ‘Nico,’ she implored, face crumpling. ‘It’s your help I need. Everything in my life comes back to you.’

  ‘What on earth do you mean?’ He jerked his arms free, breath tripping in his chest. He wanted to jump up, get away from her, even if it was only to put on the light, but it was too important that he understand what was happening for him to risk interrupting her. ‘Be straightforward,’ he said crisply.

  Loren pulled herself upright and fixed him with huge, beseeching eyes. ‘OK. I’ve come to ask for us to be one family. You, me, Josie and Maria. It’s the obvious thing to do. Maria loves you! I’ll get clean, with your support.’ Her words shot out in emphatic bursts. ‘You’re so stable, Nico. You cope with everything. Like, like—’ Her eyes flickered around the room as if the words she needed to convince him might be hiding in the cupboards. ‘Like, it’s too much for me to be a single mum but look how strong you are as a single dad.’

  Astonishment stole Nico’s voice. Dimly, he could hear yells upstairs; Vivvi was trying to persuade Maria to do something and the chirruping little voice was rising obstinately. ‘Want Mydad! Want Myyyydaaad!’

  ‘Let’s make a family home,’ Loren pleaded. ‘We can go back to Islington and—’

  ‘Josie’s got a place at school here,’ he said automatically.

  ‘She can go back to her old school.’

  ‘She’s off the roll there and she hated it,’ he snapped, furious at the way Loren was dismissing Josie’s feelings.

  Loren looked around herself, bewildered. ‘You can’t live here. It’s the back of beyond. There are no shops. Nothing to do.’

  ‘We love it here. OK, there’s only one shop but there’s a town and a city nearby.’

  She rose, getting in his space, stubbornly trying to stop his plans standing in the way of hers. ‘There’s nothing for Maria.’

  Not enjoying being loomed over, he rose too. ‘There’s bound to be preschool. I haven’t enquired because I believed Maria would be going to you or your mum before I went to Sweden.’ His heart gave a great pang. Remembering the great time they’d had in Sweden, Maria laughing at the snow, wrinkling her nose, riding on his shoulders. He halted, newly aware of the trauma lying in wait for the girls if they were spli
t up again. Right in front of him was an opportunity to make a proper family for both girls.

  Loren gazed at him with her eyes full of fear and longing. Pity rose up as if to choke him.

  The sound of arguing voices came rapidly nearer and Maria burst in, eyes like saucers. She flew across the room as if she were being hunted. ‘Mydad, Mydad,’ she sobbed.

  ‘See,’ whispered Loren, as if this proved everything she’d been saying.

  His heart was breaking. A trap was closing. A police siren sounded in the distance, speeding off to deal with somebody’s crisis. He wished you could do something as simple as calling the police when you were being put in an emotional stranglehold.

  Automatically, he hugged Maria, patting her shuddering back.

  Josie skipped into the room, Vivvi close behind. ‘Maria didn’t want to stay upstairs with me and Grandma, Dad. She wanted you.’

  Vivvi’s gaze flicked from Loren to Nico speculatively.

  Nico glanced between his ex-wife and ex-mother-in-law. ‘Vivvi, maybe you could take the girls out?’ he said wearily. ‘Loren and I need to talk.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hannah couldn’t turn into the drive of Honeybun because a car was parked across it. She pulled up behind and, catching her breath at the icy air as she jumped from the car, scampered towards the gate.

  ‘Hannah!’ shouted an excited young voice, making her swing around. ‘We’ve been to The Angel with Grandma for cake. Why have you got tinsel on your hat?’ Josie bounded towards her, hood up and cheeks pink. A middle-aged woman in a stylish coat of grey wool hurried to catch up, Maria in the buggy slapping her hands on the sides and shouting, ‘Out!’

  ‘Oof!’ Hannah gasped as Josie cannoned into her midriff. ‘Is everything OK? I’ve been working at the Christmas Opening of Carlysle Courtyard today. I thought you were coming along. Hello, Maria!’ She waved, which made Maria stop slapping long enough to wave back. Hannah smiled at the woman guardedly. ‘Hello.’

  The woman didn’t alter her pinched expression but asked Josie, ‘Is this Daddy’s friend Hannah?’

  Josie beamed. ‘Yes! Hannah, Grandma let us have cake for supper. I had two bits. Dad’ll go mad.’

  The woman’s lips tightened at the implied criticism and Hannah decided, diplomatically, not to comment. Parent–grandparent politics weren’t her field.

  ‘Hello,’ she tried again in an effort not to be dismissed. ‘I’m Hannah Goodbody.’

  ‘Vivvi Myot,’ the woman replied briefly. Maria was still shouting so, tutting, Vivvi unfastened her straps and swung the little girl brusquely to the ground. ‘Here you are then, miss.’

  Hannah put out her arms. ‘Hello, Maria! How are you?’

  ‘Hat!’ Maria demanded, trying to snatch Hannah’s red woolly hat.

  ‘Maria fell downstairs and got a nose bleed,’ Josie gabbled. ‘Then Mum and Grandma came and—’

  ‘Chatterbox!’ Vivvi interposed sharply. ‘Please hold your sister’s hand and take her indoors to Mummy and Daddy before she gets cold. I’ll be there in a minute when I’ve folded up the buggy.’

  ‘But—’ Josie began rebelliously.

  ‘Do as you’re told.’ Vivvi raised admonishing eyebrows.

  ‘OK,’ Josie sighed, leading Maria away.

  Hannah started after them but then halted, suddenly conscious of the uncertainty of her role here. Loren was visiting. She was Josie and Maria’s mother so no surprise … except she was supposed to be in rehab. That might explain Nico’s odd silence today.

  Vivvi collapsed the buggy with a couple of snaps. ‘Just a moment.’

  Neck prickling, Hannah turned back.

  ‘Nico and Loren are talking,’ Vivvi said in a pointed, curt way. She looked Hannah up and down as Hannah’s coat blew open, no doubt taking in the leggings and shirt, the tinsel she’d wrapped around her belt. Feeling foolishly like a kid playing dress-up, she yanked off her hat and let her hair fall down.

  ‘I’m aware of Nico’s liaison with you,’ Vivvi went on coldly. ‘It’s not to be wondered at if he looked elsewhere for “entertainment”—’ she said the word as if she didn’t want it in her mouth ‘—while he and Loren went through a difficult time. But they have these two little girls. It’s time for them to try again.’

  Offence at words like ‘liaison’ and ‘entertainment’ was completely subsumed by a wash of horror as Hannah took in Vivvi’s final words. Shame followed as she realised the horror was for herself. Nico had not given her any form of commitment. ‘They’ve been divorced for ages,’ she said through numb lips.

  Vivvi bristled. ‘These challenging chapters happen in adult relationships,’ she said in a way that somehow implied Hannah wouldn’t know. ‘It’s hard when Loren suffers a bout of depression but Nico never gives up on her. Taking Maria was his way of showing Loren he could accept her so they could create a stable home together. Loren’s my daughter and it pains me to say this, but she needs that man and he finds being a single dad lonely – hence you, I suppose. But even you must see that those lovely kiddies need both their parents.’ Vivvi sniffed. ‘Sleeping with you a few times doesn’t compare to years of marriage. He’s a man – why wouldn’t he sleep with you, if you were on offer? But if there’s one thing Nico Pettersson is all about, it’s facing up to his responsibilities. It was him who asked me to take the girls out while he and Loren talked. Josie and Maria are going to be so happy when they’re all one little family again!’ This last was delivered with a caring sympathy Hannah didn’t buy.

  But that was irrelevant – or ‘our elephant’ as Maria had once said. Every word the woman said was shrivelling her heart with guilt and humiliation.

  She tried to think, remembering Nico not answering a single text or call today. Not turning up as promised. All the times he’d blown hot and cold … she’d forgotten them once he’d turned his brilliant blue eyes on her in Sweden. Been blinded by his lovemaking and the easy way he’d brought her into his family. They’d laughed over Carina’s matchmaking but maybe Hannah had been so conveniently ‘on offer’ that he’d taken advantage of it?

  Mortification colder than the wind that blew between the cosily lit cottages swept her as she remembered his words on the aircraft. I didn’t even have to ask you to help me on this trip. He’d followed up by saying she’d made him the happiest he’d been for years but if he’d been unhappy as a single parent, that wasn’t saying much. And he’d been getting sex.

  Gagged by tears, Hannah blanked whatever else Vivvi was saying and fumbled for her keys. She’d go to Nan’s and leave Nico to contact her. If Vivvi was horribly and completely wrong then he’d just tell her, wouldn’t he?

  She had to perform an ignominious twenty-point turn in the lane under Vivvi’s watchful gaze and drove shakily home – her temporary home, anyway – in a haze of pain. Nan’s house was cold and empty but she was glad. Right this minute, she didn’t want to see her lovely family because the sympathy she knew would pour out of them would rip out what was left of her heart. She dragged herself upstairs for a hot bath that didn’t cure her shivers, her phone within reach.

  The hours ticked by and it didn’t ring.

  She crept off to bed to lie awake, gazing into the darkness.

  Hopelessly, she faced facts. Nico was a wonderful parent. He’d been upset at the idea of the girls being split up again. Making the family one unit would make sense. And if Vivvi hadn’t been telling her the truth he would have called her by now.

  And still the phone didn’t ring.

  Suddenly she was angry.

  Bloody men. How many more would think it was OK to bugger things up for her? To live his own life and if she became disruptive, winkle her out of it? It filled her with impotent rage.

  When the clock beside her bed said two a.m. she got up. If Nico hadn’t sent so much as a text by now he wasn’t going to. He could even be in bed with Loren.

  Grief-stricken, she took down the presents she’d stored atop the wardrobe. Two new nighties fo
r Nan and a book about the stately homes of England. A super-duper car care kit for her dad and a box of chocolate liqueurs. Champagne for Mo, who dearly loved it but would never consider buying it for herself. Clinique mascara and eye liner for Leesa, who appreciated brands, and a North Face sweatshirt for Rob.

  Neatly, methodically, she wrapped up and labelled each gift. Then she packed them in Mo’s little car along with a backpack and a medium-sized case. When she judged her parents would have finished breakfast she drove to their house and was surprised to find Nan there.

  ‘Brett and I need a break from each other,’ she confessed. ‘Your mum fetched me last night because I didn’t want to butt in on your evening but today I thought—’ Then, slowly, her wrinkles sagged as she gazed into Hannah’s face. ‘What’s the matter?’

  Hannah slumped onto the sofa that her parents bought when she was about sixteen and closed her eyes. ‘I thought something was happening with Nico. But it’s gone wrong.’

  ‘Oh, Hannah! Nan whispered to me that there was something between you.’ Mo dropped on the sofa beside her. ‘Get her a strong brew, Jeremy.’

  Slowly, between sniffs, sobs and sips, Hannah unravelled the whole story. ‘So it looks as if his wife’s back and we won’t spend Christmas together,’ she finished dolefully.

  ‘You spend it with us,’ Mo urged. ‘Dad’s got the tree out of the loft and we’ve begun decorating it. We’ll bake mince pies and have a cosy village Christmas.’

  Hannah was already shaking her head. ‘Thanks, Mum, but it’s too … raw.’ She blew her nose, then looked at her dad. ‘Can I ask a really, really big favour?’

  Instantly, Jeremy proclaimed, ‘Nothing’s too big for you, Han.’

  ‘Can I borrow The Bus?’

  ‘Borrow The Bus?’ he repeated faintly. Then, as if it weren’t his pride and joy, ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’ll treat it beautifully,’ she said, too desperate to escape to have qualms about borrowing something she knew he wouldn’t normally lend. ‘I want to be on my own for a few days and not be … bothered. The girls are too important not to be given the chance of two parents. I know that. I just need time to come to terms with it.’ She gulped. ‘I don’t want to hang around for explanations, even if he thought it was a holiday fling.’ That might even be too polite a term for what he’d thought. His damned mother-in-law had certainly made her feel like a little tart. She blotted her tears with her sleeve.