‘Give him another chance. At least see him. I’ll babysit for you—you can tell the children you have to work, and they can come to me for a sleepover.’
Oh, she was so tempted. To see him again—it had only been a week, and she was missing him with every passing second. The rest of her life seemed like an eternity, stretching out in front of her without him.
A safe, dull, boring eternity.
‘He hasn’t contacted me. If he wanted to see me, he could ring.’
‘You told him you didn’t want him. Don’t expect him to grovel. He said you know where to find him.’
So the ball was in her court.
Tough.
‘I can’t talk about this now. Not with the children here,’ she said as their raised voices filtered through the door. ‘Come on, we need to supervise this, it sounds a bit lively.’
Which made a change, because all week they’d been quiet and sad. Oh, damn.
‘So—aren’t you going to ask how they are?’
Oh, hell. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t, but Kate would have known that, and she’d waited all day, keeping him in suspense, keeping him dangling.
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’m not.’
‘They’re miserable. They were thrilled to see Megan, and Millie said it was the first time they’d laughed since they’d moved. And the dog sat by the door all day and whined.’
‘Not my problem,’ he said, his heart contracting into a tight ball in his chest. ‘I’ve done all I can, Kate. I can’t do more.’
But then later that week Kate came into his office looking worried.
‘I’ve had a call from Millie. She can’t finish that work you sent her—there’s a problem.’
He leant back in his chair and looked up at her. ‘What sort of a problem?’
‘Rufus is ill. He’s collapsed. She’s taken him to the vet, but he’s got to go to a referral centre. She’s got Thomas with her and the children don’t know—they need picking up from school. She’s asked me if I can have Thomas and keep the children overnight—Jake, what are you doing?’
‘Coming with you. She can’t face this alone. I’ll take my car and follow you.’
‘What about your arm?’
‘It’s fine. She can drive from the vet’s. Are you meeting her there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Right, let’s go.’
He stuck his head into Reception on the way past. ‘Clear my diary, and Kate’s. We’re going out,’ he said, and followed Kate to the veterinary surgery.
She was standing by the door, pushing Thomas backwards and forwards in the stroller, trying to stop him crying while she watched the car park entrance for Kate’s car.
‘Come on, come on,’ she muttered, and then she saw it turn in and her eyes flooded with tears of relief. ‘Look, Thomas, it’s Kate! You like Kate! You’re going to stay with her—’
‘How is he?’
She jerked upright. ‘Jake?’ she whispered, and then his arms were round her, and he was folding her against his heart and holding her tight.
‘He’s on a drip. They’ve sedated him—they think he might have had a stroke. They get them, apparently. I have to take him to a place miles away and I haven’t got any petrol in the car—’
‘I’ve got mine. You can drive it, I probably shouldn’t with a cast on. Leave yours here, I’m sure they won’t mind. Let’s go and talk to them.’
‘Where’s Kate? I saw her car—’
‘I’m here, sweetheart. I’ll take Thomas. Give me your house keys. I’ll pick up his stuff and some things for the others, and you can come and see me when you get back, OK?’
‘OK,’ she said, fumbling for her keys with nerveless fingers. ‘Thank you.’
Her eyes flooded again, and Kate hugged her hard—difficult, because Jake still had one arm round her, holding her up—and then she was gone and Jake was steering her into Reception and talking to the staff.
Rufus was ready to go—the referral centre was expecting him—and she drove with one eye on the rear-view mirror, where she could see Jake sitting with Rufus beside him, still on the drip, the bag suspended above him clipped to the coat hook on the edge of the roof lining, his hand stroking the dog gently and murmuring soothingly to him.
He’d set the sat-nav to direct her, but although it took the stress out of finding the way, it left her nothing to worry about but Rufus. And the journey was interminable.
‘Thank you so much for coming with me,’ she said, what seemed like hours later as they sat outside waiting for news.
‘Don’t be silly,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘I couldn’t let you do this alone.’
‘You always did like the stupid dog,’ she said, her voice wobbling, and he put his arm round her shoulders and squeezed gently.
Not nearly as much as he liked the stupid owner, he thought, and then the door swung open and the vet who’d admitted Rufus came out to them.
‘Mrs Jones?’
She leapt to her feet, but her legs nearly gave out and he held her up, his arm firmly round her waist, holding her tight as they waited for the news.
‘We’ve done an MRI, and he has had a stroke,’ the vet said, and he felt a shudder go through her. ‘It’s in the back of his brain, the cerebellum, which controls balance. It’s quite common in Cavaliers. Their skulls are a little on the small side and the vessels can get restricted, and he’s got a little bleed, but we’re going to keep him quiet and watch him, and hopefully it will heal and he’ll recover. He’s still very heavily sedated and we’ll keep him like that for a while. The first few hours are obviously critical, and he’s got through them so far, but until we can get this settled down and reduce the sedation we won’t know if there’s any lasting damage. I expect the unsteadiness he was showing will be worse, and he might stagger around in circles or hold his head on one side or just be unable to sort his feet out—it may be temporary, it may be permanent, or there may be a degree of permanent deficit, which is what I would expect. Do you have any questions?’
‘Yes—how long will he be in?’ she asked, her voice tight.
‘Maybe a week. Possibly more.’
‘Oh, no. Um…my insurance cover is only for three thousand pounds—’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Jake said firmly. ‘Just do what you have to do and we’ll sort it out later.’
She turned her face up to him, pale and shocked, the hideous, unpalatable decision clouding her lovely eyes. ‘Jake, you can’t do that—’
‘Don’t argue, Amelia,’ he said firmly. ‘Not about this. Will you keep in touch?’ he added to the vet.
‘I can’t go—’
‘There’s nothing you can do here, Mrs Jones,’ the vet said gently but firmly. ‘Go home. We’ll ring you if there’s any change, and we’ll ring you at seven in the morning and seven in the evening every day for an update.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘Of course. And you can come and visit him later in the week if he’s progressing well, but we want him kept as quiet as possible for now.’
She nodded, and they were led through to see him. He was in a cage, flat on his side on a sheepskin blanket, with drips and oxygen and a heat lamp, and he looked tiny and vulnerable and very, very sick.
Jake felt his eyes prickle, and beside him Amelia was shaking like a jelly.
‘Come on, I’m taking you home,’ he said firmly, and led her out to the car park. He drove—he probably shouldn’t have, with the cast on, but she certainly wasn’t fit to drive, so he buckled her in beside him and set off. He could see her knotted hands working in her lap out of the corner of his eye, and her head was bent; he thought she was probably crying.
She lifted her head as they crunched onto the gravel drive, and looked around. ‘Why are we here?’
‘Because Kate’s got your house keys, and I think you need a little TLC in private for a while,’ he said, and cut the engine. ‘Come on.’
He led her inside, and as soon as the do
or closed behind them, she collapsed against his chest, sobbing.
‘I can’t lose him,’ she wept. ‘I can’t—how can I tell the children? I can’t take him away from them as well—’
‘Shh. Come and sit down, I’ll get you a drink.’
‘I don’t want a drink, I want Rufus,’ she said, abandoning all attempt at courage, and he steered her into his sitting room, pushed her down onto the sofa and dragged her into his arms.
She cried for ages, not only for the dog, he suspected, but for all the things she’d lost, the things that had gone wrong, the agonies and disappointments and bitter regrets of the past several years.
And then finally she hiccupped to a halt, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed, her cheeks streaked with drying tears, her mouth swollen. And he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.
‘Better now?’
She nodded, sniffing again, and he hugged her and stood up. ‘Come on, let’s get something to eat and tell Kate what’s happening,’ he said gently, and she let him pull her up and lead her through to the kitchen.
There was a note on the island from his housekeeper.
CASSEROLE IN FRIDGE. TOP OVEN, HALF AN HOUR. VEG IN MICROWAVE. FIVE MINUTES.
‘Hungry?’ he asked. She shook her head, but he didn’t believe her, so he put the casserole in the top oven anyway and put the kettle on, then rang Kate.
‘Hi. He’s doing all right, but the next few hours are critical, so I’ve got her at home. I don’t want her by herself. Can you keep the kids?’
‘Of course. I won’t be in tomorrow, then.’
‘No, I know. Nor will I. I’ll keep in touch. Thanks, Kate. I think Amelia wants to talk to you.’
He handed the phone over and listened as she tried hard to be brave and upbeat—talking to the children, he guessed, because she said the same thing three times—to Kate, then to Kitty, then to Edward—and then she turned to him. ‘Edward wants to talk to you.’
Oh, hell. He took the phone out of her hand. ‘Hi, Edward. How are things?’
‘Horrible. Is Rufus really going to be OK?’
‘I hope so,’ he said, refusing to lie to the child. ‘They’re very skilled, and if he can get through this, he’ll do it there, but we’re all thinking about him, and if thinking can help, then he’ll make it for sure.’
‘Thinking doesn’t help,’ he said. ‘I keep thinking about living with you, but it hasn’t helped at all.’
‘We can’t always have what we want,’ he said gently. ‘You have to change the things you can, and find the strength to deal with the things you can’t. Like this voice test. Kate said you didn’t want to go.’
‘But what’s the point? We can’t afford it—and anyway, if Rufus dies, I can’t leave Mummy, can I?’
‘OK. One thing at a time. You have to be offered a place first, and see if you’d like to do it. Then you worry about paying. There might be a way—a scholarship, for instance. That was how I got there. My parents didn’t have any money, and the choir school paid my fees. And Rufus hasn’t died, and there’s every chance he’ll live and get better, although it may take a while. And you could probably go to the school as a day boy, so you wouldn’t have to leave your mother.’
There was a silence at the end of the line.
‘Edward?’ he prompted.
‘Mmm.’
‘Don’t shut doors until you know what’s on the other side. It might be what you’re looking for, it might not. But you owe it yourself to find that out. Do you want to talk to your mum again?’
‘No, it’s OK. Tell her I love her.’
‘OK. We’ll be in touch. Don’t worry. He’s in the best place.’
He turned off the phone and set it down. ‘I have to give you a message,’ he said, turning towards her. ‘I love you.’
She looked up into his eyes, startled. ‘What did you say?’
‘I love you.’
Something—hope?—flared in her eyes, and then died. ‘That’s the message?’
‘Yes. So does Edward. That’s his message.’
He saw the hope dawn again, then saw her fight it, not allowing herself the luxury of his love, because she didn’t dare to trust him—and there was nothing more he could do to prove to her that he loved her, that she and her family and her dog had a home with him, a place in his heart for ever.
He stepped back. ‘I’ll make the tea,’ he said gruffly, and turned away, the pain of knowing he would never have her in his life too great to stand there in front of her and make civilised conversation about her son and her dog and—
‘Jake?’
He paused and put the kettle down. ‘What?’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve been so stupid. I’ve kept thinking you were like David, that under it all you were the same kind of person, pursuing the same goals, but you’re not, are you? You’re just in the same line of business. He always wanted to get rich quick, but you’ve got where you are by doing what you can to the best of your ability, by working hard, paying attention to detail, doing it right. And you’ve been successful, not lucky, because you’re good at what you do and you do what you’re good at.
‘And you’re good at being a father, Jake. You’ve been more of a father to my children in the last few weeks than their own father ever has, and a better man to me than he could ever be. And, as for Rufus—there’s no way David would have done everything you’ve done for him. He would have told the vet to put him down, because he didn’t realise how important he was to the children, how much he’s given them. Not that he would have cared. He never gave them anything without considering it first, but you—when your heart was breaking, you gave us Christmas, even though it must have hurt you unbearably, because it was the right thing to do. And you do that, don’t you? The right thing. Always.
‘So, if the offer’s still open—if you really meant it, if you really do love me and want to marry me—then nothing would make me prouder than to be your wife—’
She broke off, her voice cracking, and he turned slowly and stared at her. Her eyes were downcast, her lip caught between her teeth, and he reached out gently and lifted her chin.
‘Was that a yes?’ he asked softly, hardly daring to breathe, and she laughed, her eyes flooding with tears.
‘Yes, it was a yes,’ she said unsteadily. ‘If you’ll still have me—’
‘Stuff the tea,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’
And, scooping her up in his arms, he carried her upstairs to bed.
‘What’s that smell?’
‘The casserole. Damn.’
He got up and walked, still naked, out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. She pulled on his shirt and followed him, arriving in the kitchen as he set the casserole dish down on the island. ‘Oops.’
‘Oops, indeed. Never mind. We’ll grab something on the way to Kate’s.’
‘Kate’s?’
‘Mmm. I think we need to tell the children—and then we’ve got wedding plans to make. How do you fancy a January wedding?’
She blinked. ‘Two weeks, max? That’s tight.’
‘Why? We’ve got the venue. We’ll get married in the church, and we’ll come back here and celebrate. It’s not like it’s going to be a huge affair. Your family, our friends—twenty or so? The people from work are my family, really—so more than twenty. OK. It’s getting bigger,’ he admitted with a laugh, and she hugged him.
‘And two weeks isn’t long enough to be legal. I don’t care when I marry you, or where, just so long as I can be with you.’
It was May, in the end.
Her brother-in-law gave her away—Andy, who’d apologised for the way he and Laura had treated her at Christmas. He had finally told her that they were unable to have children, which was why they’d found it so hard to have the children there. Kate was her matron of honour, with Kitty and a slightly wobbly Rufus in a brand-new collar as her attendants.
And Edward, who’d been practising for weeks with the choir master at his
new school, sang an anthem which reduced them both to tears, and then after the service they walked back to the walled garden where the fountain was playing, and in a pause in the proceedings Jake turned to her and smiled.
‘All right, my darling?’
‘Much better than all right. Have I ever told you that I love you?’
He laughed softly. ‘Only a few thousand times, but it took you long enough, so I’m quite happy to hear it again.’
‘Good,’ she said, squeezing his arm, ‘because I intend to keep telling you for the rest of my life…’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4472-0
THEIR CHRISTMAS FAMILY MIRACLE
First North American Publication 2009.
Copyright © 2009 by Caroline Anderson.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Their Christmas Family Miracle Page 15
