by Susan Lewis
He nodded.
After a while she said, ‘We’ve both got a lot of healing to do, so maybe we could try, as friends, to be a strength for each other.’
He was quiet for a long time and she guessed he was thinking of how much Stacey would hate that. Already she more than half suspected that, in the end, her ghost would be too strong for them both. Certainly, if she allowed it, Rachel felt sure she’d be able to feel her here now, trying to push her way between them, and she didn’t imagine, if Chris was feeling it, that he was resisting very hard. But then he surprised her as he said,
‘The shops are still open. I’d like to get you and Charlie something for Christmas. Is there anything you need?’
She smiled. ‘What we really need is someone to come and help us decorate our tree,’ she said. Then aware that it was too much, too soon, she said, ‘Or maybe you could just come and say hello to him.’
‘Actually, I’m pretty good at decorating trees,’ he told her.
She smiled again.
His eyes were holding hers.
‘What are you thinking?’ she prompted after a while.
‘I’m thinking what a sorry spectacle I’m going to make, all on my own, in a house this size, over Christmas.’
She said nothing, knowing that the suggestions, whatever they might be, had to come from him now.
‘I don’t suppose you and Charlie …? No, you’ll have other plans.’
‘Nothing that can’t be changed,’ she told him. ‘Though I happen to know that Beanie’s just dying to invite you on Christmas Day. She’s got a jumbo jet of a turkey.’
He laughed. ‘She used to do a lot of cooking in this kitchen,’ he said, sounding nostalgic.
It took another few minutes, then he said, ‘Do you think she’d like to bring her jumbo jet here?’
‘We’ll have to ask her, but I think she’d probably like nothing better. But are you sure? There’s quite a lot of us. Laurie and Elliot are arriving from London late today, then there’s Nick and Jenny, and Jen’s mother, and … I’ve lost track of who’s coming.’
‘Then it sounds as though you need to do it here,’ he told her drily. ‘Which means we should probably go and get a tree – after we’ve finished decorating yours.’
She sat quietly for a moment, loving him for the effort he was making, though still not sure if all this fuss was what he needed. ‘You know, we all really want you to be part of Christmas, but if you feel … Well, if you’d rather we all squeezed into the cottage … Or if it was just me and Charlie …’
‘No, I’d like you all to come,’ he said. ‘We used to have wonderful Christmases here when my mother was alive. Stacey always preferred it to be just us, but I like family and lots of activity. Gives me a chance to sing and make a fool of myself.’
Smiling as her heart filled up, for they both knew that he probably wasn’t quite in the mood for it this year, she said, ‘Then I guess we’d better put my tree on hold and go to get yours, because you’ll need a pretty big one to make an impression in a house this size.’
He looked around, as though trying to visualize where a tree would go, then after returning his eyes to hers, he put down his empty glass and came to pull her to her feet. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said, wrapping her in his arms. ‘And thank you.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ she replied, hugging him back.
They stood together for a long time, experiencing a closeness that was real enough not to need words, but still awkward enough to require silence. She was thinking, not for the first time, of the very peculiar tides of the past few years that had never quite brought them together when they might have, then had when they perhaps ought not. Yet, when all the clutter and confusion of events and judgements, grief and everyday life, was chipped away from their small part of life’s journey, there seemed something inherently right about their friendship, almost as though it was meant to be.
Finally he let her go and looked down into her eyes. ‘Did you ever finish The Magus?’ he said.
She nodded. ‘I know you’re not Conchis’s main victim, Nicholas Urfe,’ she said. ‘And I’m not Lily or Julie.’
He smiled. ‘I never thought you were. No duplicity from you. None from me now, either,’ he promised.
‘That’s good to hear.’ She thought of the character Allison who had come back to life, and then of Stacey. How hard, she wondered, had he willed that particular piece of fiction into fact.
‘You know, I think I’m starting to get an idea of what my New Year’s resolution might be,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
His eyes were teasing. ‘I’ll let you know if I manage to keep it,’ he answered.
Laughing, she embraced him again, then taking his hand she walked with him to get their coats. Though she knew that the next few days were probably going to be harder for them both than either wanted to admit, in her heart she was quite certain now that though their feelings for each other were buried for the moment, beneath all the darkness and pain of their shared and separate experiences, they would, in time, maybe like the flowers of spring, start to find their own sun.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781409008026
www.randomhouse.co.uk
Published by Arrow Books 2010
4 6 8 10 9 7 5
Copyright © Susan Lewis 2002
Susan Lewis has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
First published in Great Britain in 2002 by
William Heinemann
Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA
www.randomhouse.co.uk
Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm
The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780099534389
