Their First Family Christmas

by Alison Roberts

  But Lily didn’t seem to be in need of anything like a bottle or a change of nappies. And she wasn’t in need of Harry’s protection. She was, in fact, climbing up onto the couch with Jack. Or trying to. She hung on to Jack’s leg and hoisted one small leg of her own up and then tried to roll her body upwards. It was a manoeuvre doomed to fail and she would have fallen onto the floor if Jack hadn’t moved his arm to catch her. Given that extra support, Lily could complete her mission. She climbed right over him and snuggled down to put her head under his arm.

  Harry moved closer. This time it was dog breath in Jack’s face and the look in the dog’s eyes told him he had better not break the trust that was being put in him. And then Harry lay down with a sigh and put his nose on his paws.

  Jack was hemmed in on both sides. He strained his ears, trying to hear any sound of movement upstairs, but the house was completely silent.

  Lily was silent too.

  Jack tucked his chin into his neck so that he could see the small body in the crook of his arm. He could feel the warmth of Lily’s body and the way her chest was moving as she breathed in and out. Tilting his head further, he could see her face, but if he’d been expecting another moment of that extraordinary eye contact, he was disappointed. Lily’s eyes were closed.

  Good grief...had she fallen asleep again?

  At least that meant he didn’t need to demonstrate any incompetency just yet. He could just stay here, Jack decided, until Lily woke up again, which could be at any moment. He pulled the eiderdown up a bit further, though, to keep her warm.

  But the moments ticked past and Jack found himself relaxing again, little by little. He was in a cosy nest on this comfortable, old couch and Lily’s warmth was like the hottie he remembered as a child, only on a completely new level. This small person was Ben’s daughter. His niece. And it seemed that she was accepting his presence with the same kind of ease and welcome that everybody in this extraordinary little family had.

  As his eyelids drifted shut, Jack remembered how gentle Lily had been in opening them. He fell asleep again with a smile on his face.

  * * *

  Emma woke with a start, sensing the presence of someone in her room.

  ‘Sorry, love...I didn’t mean to wake you. I thought Lily must be in here with you.’

  The sound of her mother’s voice brought Emma wide awake. ‘She’s not in her cot?’

  ‘You know how good she’s got at climbing out.’

  Emma nodded. But Lily always headed for snuggly morning cuddles in bed with her mother or grandmother when she escaped. She’d never gone downstairs by herself. Emma was out of bed in a flash, reaching for the big woollen cardigan she preferred to a dressing gown. ‘You have the bathroom, first,’ she told her mother. ‘I’ll go and make sure she hasn’t got into mischief.’

  Not that she ever had. Harry would have woken them with his warning bark if she’d gone too close to the Aga or something. Emma rushed downstairs anyway. How long had Lily been out of her bed? And where was she?

  Not in the kitchen. And Harry wasn’t in his basket, either.

  It was only a few steps to the entrance to the living room. The first thing Emma saw was Harry lying by the couch and her beloved old dog lifted his head and thumped his tail on the carpet. She could see Jack’s face and he was clearly deeply asleep. And...ohh...

  Emma put her fingers over her mouth to stifle her gasp. So that was where Lily had got to. Somehow, she had climbed up onto the couch and there she was, snuggled under Jack’s arm, also sound asleep.

  How extraordinary...

  Lily had chosen Jack for morning cuddles?

  How had she even known he was in the house, let alone that he was someone that could be trusted to that degree?

  Emma had to blink away the sudden moisture gathering in her eyes. She could feel the Christmas magic gaining power and the day was only just beginning.

  Misty-eyed, she let her gaze take in the soft tumble of Lily’s curls and the sweep of those dark lashes on the perfect, soft skin of her cheeks. It only took a tiny shift of her eye muscles to make a comparison to Jack’s shaggy locks, the same enviable lashes and skin that looked as if it would feel deliciously rough beneath her fingers.

  Oh, man... Emma’s fingers actually twitched with the longing to touch Jack’s face.

  She didn’t want to wake either of them. She didn’t want to move herself, for that matter, but standing here staring was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Fantasies about touching the man she loved were fine in the privacy of her own bed but it was bordering on creepy to be doing it when he was unconscious in front of her.

  Unconscious...

  A beat of alarm kicked in. How long had he been asleep now? At least a couple of hours. If he had still been in hospital, being observed for a potential injury, someone would have woken him to check that he was still responsive.

  Indecision like this was an unusual experience for Emma. Maybe Harry sensed her discomfort because the old dog got to his feet and came towards her, his feathery tail sweeping Jack’s face as he walked past.

  And that solved the problem, because Jack woke up. He was probably horribly stiff after sleeping on that couch with his injuries because the first sound he made was a stifled groan. The sound was enough to wake Lily as well.

  ‘Mumma...’

  Lily’s face split into a joyous grin but Emma knew how painful that small elbow in Jack’s ribs for leverage would have been.

  ‘Oof,’ he said. ‘Hang on, Lily.’ He tried to grab the wriggly toddler who was now standing up and threatening to walk over his chest to get to her mother.

  ‘Kisses,’ Lily demanded. ‘Kissmas.’

  Emma dived towards the couch and scooped Lily into her arms.

  ‘Cheers,’ Jack murmured.

  ‘Sorry,’ Emma said. ‘I had no idea she’d come downstairs by herself. She’s very good at going down the stairs backwards but she’s just learned to climb out of her cot. We have to keep the side down so she doesn’t injure herself. It really is time she moved into a bed, I guess...’

  She was talking too much. Too fast. She was nervous, Emma realised. She had expected to be there the first time Jack set eyes on Lily and now she had no idea what had happened. Or how either of them had reacted.

  There were small fists buried in her hair now and Lily was trying to turn Emma’s head so that she could see her face.

  ‘Kiss,’ she commanded.

  Automatically, Emma turned and planted a soft kiss on the small face. But then her gaze swivelled back to Jack.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he told her. ‘It was a unique experience, having my eyelid prised open to wake me up.’

  ‘Oh, no...’ Emma bit her lip. ‘She didn’t...’

  ‘More,’ Lily said. ‘More kisses...’

  Jack was smiling and Emma couldn’t look away. She’d never seen him smile like that before. He was looking at Lily and smiling as if...as if they already had a secret bond.

  Last night, it had been the last thing she would have expected to say to Jack but it came out easily this time.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Jack.’

  ‘Merry Christmas, Red.’

  The shared glance felt like something new as well. Maybe it was the soft light and that it still felt like night-time. Or that Jack was only just awake and still had the sleep-rumpled softness that she hadn’t seen since she’d woken up next to him so long ago. He would smile at her then, too, and it had felt intimate and special but, this time, there was something much deeper than a shared connection of fabulous sex the night before. This glance had more to do with the kind of friendship that lasted a lifetime. Of a connection that was more about this small child Emma held in her arms than themselves.

  Was it like the kind of glance parents might share?

  And maybe L
ily had some level of awareness of the connection the three of them shared?

  ‘Merry Kissmas,’ she echoed, in her adorable toddler-speak. She was wriggling now so Emma set her down on the floor and Lily wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and squeezed the dog who sat like the world’s most patient canine statue.

  Jack and Emma were still smiling. Still holding that glance.

  Lily let go of Harry and trotted back to the couch. Emma held her breath as Lily put her face close to Jack’s.

  ‘Up,’ she commanded.

  ‘No,’ Emma corrected quickly. ‘You don’t have to get up yet. Come on, Lilypad. We’re going to get washed and dressed.’ She picked Lily up again. ‘Do you need any painkillers, Jack?’

  ‘I’ve got some here. I’ll get myself up.’

  ‘Mum will be down in a minute. It’ll be bacon and eggs for breakfast in no time.’ Emma threw him a smile over her shoulder. ‘And that’s only the start. I hope you’re hungry.’

  * * *

  He was hungry, Jack decided, as he towelled himself dry carefully. In combination with the pills he’d taken before pushing himself to climb the stairs, the long, hot shower had done wonders for the stiffness and all the surprisingly painful parts of his body. It hadn’t helped his headache so much but he could live with that.

  The rumble of his stomach as he caught the first whiff of frying bacon made him realise that he hadn’t eaten for a very long time and that meal had only been a rather tired sandwich and some bad coffee at a truck stop on the road from London to Glasgow.

  The house seemed to have come alive in the time he’d been in the bathroom. Lights were on everywhere and a fire crackled in the grate in the living room. There was Christmas music playing and Lily was sitting in a high chair at the kitchen table banging a wooden spoon on her tray as Emma set plates and cutlery around her. She was wearing her Christmas reindeer sweater again and she had a headband keeping her curls away from her face. A headband that had small red and white candy canes attached to it. Jack could feel his mouth curving into a grin.

  Emma looked up and saw him smiling and her face lit up.

  ‘Hey...’

  She looked so happy to see him that Jack’s breath caught. Not that he was about to try and identify that wash of emotion. It was part of that hugeness that he wasn’t ready to explore. That vast ocean of feelings that went with things like home and family and...and love...

  Things that weren’t part of his world.

  Things that he didn’t want to make part of his world.

  Because that would be breaking the rules...

  Muriel turned from where she was busy at the Aga, breaking eggs into a pan. She saw Jack and then glanced at Emma and back again. Jack couldn’t read her expression but it felt like she knew more than he’d expected about how well he knew her daughter.

  She was smiling, though. ‘Merry Christmas, Jack. I’ve put something on the chair for you, there. You might need it.’

  It was a jersey, Jack realised, as he lifted what was draped over the back of the chair. An intricately knitted Arran jersey in soft, black wool.

  ‘It was one of Dad’s,’ Emma told him. ‘So it should fit you. Mum knitted it so she couldn’t bring herself to give it away.’

  ‘I wear it sometimes,’ Muriel added. She put a bowl of what looked like mashed egg and bread on Lily’s tray. ‘It’s the warmest thing ever in the middle of winter. I’ve still got my Ian’s old parka, too. That should fit you as well, if you feel the need for some fresh air later.’

  ‘Very fresh air,’ Emma said. She was helping Lily get a grip on a bright yellow plastic spoon. ‘It’s stopped snowing but there’s a good layer out there.’ She smiled at Lily and her voice became more animated. ‘You’ll be able to make your first snowman today.’

  ‘No,’ Lily said. ‘No man.’

  Emma laughed. ‘Snow,’ she repeated. ‘Can you say “snow”, darling?’

  Lily’s grin stretched from ear to ear. ‘No,’ she said obligingly. ‘No man.’

  Emma shook her head, helping a spoonful of mashed egg go in the right direction. ‘Looks like we’ll be making a “no man” today, then.’ The spoon went into Lily’s mouth, leaving only a streak of yolk on her chin. ‘Mmm...egg...’

  Jack pulled the well-worn jersey over his head and pushed his arms into the sleeves. Emma’s father had been a tall man and just as broad in the shoulders as he was himself. It fitted perfectly.

  And it felt weird.

  He was wearing an item of clothing that had belonged to the man of this household. Was he sitting in the same chair? Would Muriel have set a plate of perfectly cooked bacon and eggs in front of him with that same warm smile?

  ‘Get that into you,’ she said. ‘You must be starving. And help yourself to some tea. That pot’s freshly made.’

  Emma was watching him. Did she realise how weird this was making him feel?

  ‘Dad wasn’t into Christmas sweaters, either,’ she said. Her lips twitched. ‘You’ve got off lightly.’

  Her smile—and that twinkle in her eyes—chased the weirdness away. She understood at least part of how he was feeling and she was going to help him get past any obstacles.

  He could cope with this, Jack decided. It was only for one day, anyway.

  Maybe he could even enjoy it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHRISTMAS HAD NEVER felt quite like this.

  Topsy-turvy.

  Poignant.

  Christmas wasn’t just about being with the people you loved, it was about remembering those who couldn’t be there and Emma was missing her father badly right now.

  It was the first time in thirty years since there’d been a child as young as Lily in this house to share it and how amazing would it have been if Lily was actually his first grandchild? That the man who was stringing the lights on the Christmas tree was Lily’s father and his son-in-law?

  Would he have been keeping Lily out of mischief?

  ‘Look...’ Emma tipped out a box full of decorations onto the rug to distract Lily from the pile of gifts. Especially the one that was at the front of the pile.

  Jack’s gift for Lily.

  Emma had to blink away sudden moisture in her eyes. He had remembered to put it there—probably before he’d gone to sleep. She was reminded of how astonishing it had been to see it in the rucksack of the man who never did anything Christmassy.

  It gave her another glimmer of hope. That things were changing. For Jack. For all of them.

  They should have all been sitting around opening the gifts by now, with the breakfast dishes cleared away, but it was part of the topsy-turvyness.

  ‘You two get the tree sorted,’ Muriel had ordered. ‘I’m going to get the turkey stuffed and into the oven or it’ll be bedtime before we eat our Christmas lunch.’

  She could hear her mother singing along to one of her favourite seasonal songs, ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’, and Lily was staring wide-eyed at the pile of treasure that had appeared magically right in front of her. She was also making some odd cooing noises that Emma had never heard before.

  ‘No way...’ she murmured, a moment later.

  ‘What?’ Jack was reaching for the switch on the wall behind the tree. Tiny lights began twinkling behind him as he looked towards Emma.

  ‘I think...’ Emma had to press her lips together for a moment to disguise a wobble. ‘I think Lily’s trying to sing...’

  It was a joy to turn back and watch Lily for a minute. She was dressed in her little denim dungarees, with a bright red jersey underneath. Emma had put a clip with a sparkly red bow in her hair and she could have been a model for a Christmas advertisement for television, sitting there surrounded by decorations and...yes, she was singing.

  ‘Oooh...mmm...oooh... Merry Kissmas...’
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  Becoming aware that she was being watched, Lily tilted her head and grinned. Then she picked up one of the decorations and held it up. Her arm was stretched out towards Jack rather than Emma.

  He accepted the offering.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  ‘’Ank oo,’ Lily echoed.

  Jack looked at the brightly coloured object in his hand. ‘It’s an owl,’ he declared. ‘Do you know what noise owls make, Lily?’ He supplied a hooting sound when Lily simply stared up at him.

  ‘Oooh...oooh...’ Without breaking eye contact, Lily mimicked the sound perfectly.

  ‘Wow...’ Jack sounded genuinely impressed. ‘Clever girl. And what’s this?’ He accepted another offering. ‘It’s a gingerbread man.’

  He now had a decoration in each hand and he looked at them more closely. ‘I’ve never seen decorations like this. What are they made of?’

  ‘Felt.’

  ‘Are they hand-made?’

  ‘Mmm.’ This was embarrassing, Emma decided. Jack had known her as a young, single woman who liked nothing better than going out for dinner and a night on the town dancing when she wasn’t working. Now she was a young, working mother whose life was the picture of domesticity. By the time her days ended now, the idea of dancing was a lifetime ago and she liked nothing better than being curled up on the couch, with her dog at her feet and something relaxing to do with her hands—like embroidering tiny felt ornaments.

  She could feel Jack staring at her.

  ‘Did you make them?’

  ‘Mum started them,’ Emma said. ‘I was too tired to read a journal one night so I decided to help and...’ Her chin lifted. Jack was smiling. He was going to laugh at her, wasn’t he? Like he had over the Christmas sweater.

  ‘Hey,’ she growled. ‘I discovered a splinter skill, okay? Think of it as a kind of suturing.’

  Jack was still smiling. He stretched out so that he was lying on his stomach, his head close to Lily and the pile of decorations.

  ‘I think they’re amazing,’ he said. ‘Look at this. You’ve got reindeers and robins and plum puddings and snowmen. And what’s wrapped up in the tissue paper?’