by Tina Beckett
‘I’ll do my best.’ She walked towards him in the darkness, but there was a part of her that said she should retreat.
She was as trapped as he was. But...define trap? Some traps you had to walk right into.
‘Polly...’ She was too close now, she thought, but she couldn’t retreat. She was close enough to...close enough to ask for what she wanted?
‘If you kiss me,’ she managed, ‘I think I might crack.’
‘I’ve already cracked,’ he said roughly, still with that edge of anger. ‘Because all I want to do is kiss you.’
‘And where will that leave us?’
‘Together until after Christmas? Time for one mad passionate affair?’ He snapped the words as if she’d been taunting him. ‘Crazy.’
But what if it’s not so crazy? It was her heart doing the thinking, not her head. What if I want to stay? What if I don’t think this is a trap at all?
The thought was almost terrifying. How could she think of staying? She’d railed around the confines of her parents’ loving. How much more would she hate the confines of being here?
Of being loved by Hugo?
‘You’re looking scared,’ he said, suddenly gentle, and she wished he wouldn’t say things gently because it was almost her undoing. His voice made things twist inside—things she seemed to be unable to untwist.
She wanted him.
They were between house and hospital—no man’s land. Medicine and home.
She’d used her career to escape from home, Polly thought with sudden clarity. Maybe that was driving her nuts now. In her world of medicine, she could forget the confines of her parents’ worry, her parents’ overwhelming adoration. She could be Dr Hargreaves, known for her over-the-top dress sense but respected for her medical skills.
Here, between hospital and home, nothing seemed clear.
Hugo was standing beside her. He was her colleague, except he wasn’t a colleague. He was just... Hugo.
How could a heart be so twisted?
How could he be so near and not reach for her?
And in the end, because the silence was stretching and she didn’t know how to step away and it seemed that he didn’t either, it was Polly who reached for Hugo.
She put her hands up to his face and she cupped his bristled jaw.
‘You are the nicest man, Dr Denver...’
‘Polly, I can’t...’
‘One kiss before bedtime,’ she whispered and she raised herself on tiptoe. She tugged his head down, her lips met his and she kissed him.
She kissed him, hard and sure and true. She kissed him as she’d never kissed a man before and doubted if she could ever kiss a man again. It was a kiss of aching want. This was a kiss that came from a part of her she hadn’t known existed.
But he didn’t respond. His arms didn’t come around her. He didn’t kiss back.
He didn’t push her away, but the heat she’d felt before was now under rigid control. She could feel his tension, his strength, the power of his boundaries. She sank down to stand on firm ground again, feeling the first sharp shards of loss.
‘Whatever I said... Polly, a short affair over Christmas is never going to work,’ he managed. ‘We both know that. Bad idea.’
‘It is a bad idea,’ she conceded.
‘So we need to figure the ground rules now. No touching.’
‘None?’
‘Don’t push me, Polly.’
And it was all there in his voice. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, but this man had already learned what it was to give up what he loved. How much had he hated to give up his surgical career, his friends, his lifestyle? He’d done it for love.
How could she ask him to give up more? An affair and then walk away? It’d hurt her. How much more would it hurt Hugo, who had no power to follow?
She had to be very sure...
‘Okay, no touching,’ she managed. ‘I might...I might as well go to bed, then.’
‘That’s a good idea.’ He touched her cheek—which was breaking the rules but maybe they didn’t start until morning. He traced the line of her face with a gentleness she found unbearably erotic. But then, ‘Sleep well, Polly,’ he told her. ‘Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, the night Santa comes. Maybe the old gentleman will bring sense to the pair of us.’
* * *
He didn’t follow her inside. Instead, he stood where she’d left him, staring into the darkness.
He wanted her so badly it was a physical pain. She’d kissed him and the control it had taken not to sweep her into his arms and claim her had left him dizzy.
Hell, he wanted her.
‘Yeah, and Ruby wants Christmas at the beach,’ he told himself. ‘And I want my career back. We can’t all have what we want—you’re old enough to know that.’
He knew it but it didn’t stop him wanting.
He wanted Polly.
* * *
Sleep was a long time coming, and when it did it was full of dreams she had no hope of understanding.
She woke to the dawn chorus. Stupid birds, she thought, lying in her too-big bed listening to the cacophony of parrots, kookaburras and bellbirds. She wouldn’t have had to put up with this in Sydney.
Christmas Eve. Her mother would be up by now, doing the flowers—a task undertaken with care for every important occasion. Then there’d be the hair salon, nails, a massage, lunch with her friends, then a nap...
Then there’d be the final gift-wrapping, followed by drinks with more friends and dinner.
And, at every step of the way, her mother would miss her.
Polly lay in bed and listened to the birds and thought about her parents’ demands. Why was she suddenly feeling guilty? Her parents smothered her with love and they were constantly disappointed. Last year she’d managed to juggle leave so she could join them in Monaco on Christmas Eve, but her mother had been gutted that Polly hadn’t arrived early enough to get her nails done.
‘And when did you last get your hair done?’ she’d demanded. ‘Polly, how can you bear it?’
She smiled then, remembering her father rolling his eyes, and then she thought of her father demanding she tell them the results of her last long-term blood sugar test and telling her he’d researched a new diabetic regime being tested by a clinic in Sweden and he’d fly her there in the new year...
She was right to get away. She knew she was.
It was just...they were her parents. And somehow, looking at Hugo and Ruby, she thought...she thought...
Maybe behaviour had boundaries but love was different? Maybe running away couldn’t lessen that.
She sighed and rolled over and tried to sleep a bit more and she must have succeeded because the next thing she knew there was a scratch on her bedroom door. The door flew open and Hamster landed with a flying thud, right across her stomach.
He’d left the door open and from the living room she could hear every word Hugo was saying.
‘Ruby, I’m so sorry.’ She could almost see Hugo. He’d be crouched in front of his little niece, she thought. Ruby would have flown up as soon as she woke, letting Hamster inside and then bounding to find her uncle. The beach. They were supposed to be leaving right now.
‘There’s been another accident,’ Hugo was telling her. ‘Ruby, the roads out of here have been cut. The storm’s caused a landslide. We’re just going to have to put the silver tree up again and have a two-Christmas-tree Christmas.’
There was no sound. She could have borne it better if Ruby sobbed, Polly thought, but Ruby didn’t cry.
If enough was taken away from you, you expected nothing.
Like Hugo... So much had been taken away from him.
How could he expect her to love him?
Would he want her to love him?
She’d only known him for four days. Ridiculous. How could she feel this way about a man after four days?
How could she fall in love with Ruby after four days?
She could still hear Hugo’s muffled voice. Maybe he was hugging. Maybe he was holding, trying to comfort...
Beach for Christmas... It was a little thing. A minor promise. Kids got over things.
Last Christmas Ruby had lost her grandmother and then her mother.
Beach for Christmas...
She heard one sob, just the one, and somehow she knew that’d be it. This kid didn’t rail against fate.
Polly did, though. She put her pillow over her head and railed.
There had to be a way.
She could still ring her father, ask him to send a chopper to get them to the beach. The idea was still there but she knew it wouldn’t work, or not like she hoped. Her father would be incapable of carting away Wombat Valley’s permanent doctor and leaving his daughter on her own.
What would he do? Cart her away by force? Not quite, but he wouldn’t leave her here.
And with that thought came another. It was a thought so ridiculous... So over the top...
She was trying to escape her parents. She was trying to escape loving.
But if she let loving have its way...
The more she thought about it, the more she started to smile. And then to chuckle.
It was crazy. It’d never work. Would it?
It might.
Hamster wriggled down beside her, trying to nose his way under the covers. ‘Don’t you dare,’ she told him. ‘You’re needed in the living room. Your mistress needs all the hugs she can get, and you’re just the Hamster to give them to her.’
And Hugo? How would he take to hugs?
Ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous.
But a girl had to try. She reached for her phone.
‘Nothing ventured...’ she whispered and then she took a deep breath and finished the thought with force. ‘Nothing gained. Okay, Hamster, listen in. My parents have spent their lives wanting to do things for me that I’ve thought unreasonable. In return I’m about to ask them to do something that is the most unreasonable thing I can think of. Watch this space, Hamster. We’re about to push the limits of loving to outer space.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHRISTMAS EVE AND Wombat Valley Hospital was almost full. None of last night’s injured were ill enough to require evacuation but each needed care, pain relief and reassurance.
They also needed sympathy; indeed, with the road closure, sympathetic ears were required everywhere. Many of the Valley residents had been expecting guests for Christmas or had intended going elsewhere. Now everyone was stuck.
However, most accepted the situation with resignation. The Valley had been cut off before, by fire or by flood. The population moved into planning mode. Those who’d been expecting guests shared provisions with those who’d been going away, and some of them swapped Christmas plans, so by mid-afternoon it seemed to Hugo that everyone seemed to have planned an alternative.
As the day went on and he heard more and more rearranged plans he felt...
On the outer?
He and Ruby could be included in any Christmas in the Valley—he knew that. He only had to say the word. But the Valley assumed that he and Ruby could have a very merry Christmas with Polly. There’d been offerings of food but no offers of hospitality. The Valley was collectively stunned by Pollyanna Hargreaves and the assumption was that he was a lucky man.
‘Make the most of it, Doc,’ Joe growled. ‘There’s mistletoe growing over by the church—you want me to cut you a trailer-load? You could string it up in every room. By Christmas night...hmm. Do you have brandy sauce? I could get my girls to make some for you. Add a bit more brandy, like...’
‘Joe...’
‘Just saying,’ Joe said placidly. ‘You gotta enjoy Christmas.’
But how could he enjoy Christmas when Ruby was simply...flattened? Her life had been full of broken promises. She’d almost expected this, he thought, and it broke his heart.
And Polly... How could he spend Christmas not thinking about kissing her?
How to spend Christmas avoiding her?
Polly, however, was almost infuriatingly cheerful. She was wearing another of her amazing dresses—hadn’t anyone advised her on appropriate dress for a working doctor? She’d appeared this morning in crimson stilettoes, for heaven’s sake, and had only abandoned them when Joe pointed out the age of the hospital linoleum.
‘Not that I don’t love ’em,’ he’d said, looking wistfully at her patent leather beauties. ‘They’re an artwork all by themselves.’
So the compromise was that a pair of crimson stilettoes brightened up the desk of reception, while Polly padded round the wards in her harlequin dress, her reindeer earrings with flashing lights and a pair of theatre slippers.
There wasn’t one disapproving comment. She went from ward to ward, she helped in his routine clinic and, wherever she went, chuckles followed.
She’d offered to take over his morning clinic and, the moment people knew, it was booked out. ‘Where’s she come from?’ a normally dour old farmer demanded as he emerged after consulting her for an allergy he’d had a while but had suddenly deemed urgent this morning. ‘No matter. Wherever she came from, let’s keep the road blocked. She’s a keeper.’
A keeper. Right. As if that was going to happen.
Polly headed back to the house at lunch time. By mid-afternoon there was nothing else to do. It was time for Hugo to go home.
He wasn’t looking forward to it.
Ruby had spent the morning at Talia’s, but she was home again too. She was sitting on the veranda with Hamster on one side and Polly on the other. She looked despondent and didn’t manage a smile as Hugo reached them.
Polly might have cheered the Valley up, but she was having less luck with Ruby. The promise of the beach had held the little girl in thrall for months.
‘Hey.’ Polly smiled, rising to greet him. ‘All finished?’
‘I...yes.’ He was watching Ruby, thinking how impossible this was. Polly had cheered her up for a while with her laughter and her origami and her crazy flour snow, but that was surface stuff. What really mattered was trust.
Hell, he was giving up so much by being here and he couldn’t even get this right. No logic in the world could get through this kid’s sense of betrayal.
‘So everyone’s tucked up for Christmas?’ Polly was still smiling, but he thought suddenly her smile seemed a bit nervous.
‘Yes.’
‘Then...’ She took a deep breath. ‘Hugo, I know this is an impertinence, and I really hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited guests for Christmas.’
Guests...?
He thought of all the Valley’s oldies. The Valley had its share of lonely people but he’d thought they’d all been catered for. Who’d been left out? Polly was just the sort of woman who brought home strays, he thought. Which particular strays had she chosen?
‘For Christmas dinner?’ he asked, his mind heading straight to practicalities. ‘Polly, our turkey’s tiny.’ It was the turkey Polly had brought—or rather a turkey breast, cryo-packed, enough for a couple at most.
‘Our turkey’s rubbish,’ she told him. ‘A minnow. I gave him to Edith and Harry Banks.’
‘You gave away our turkey?’
‘It was actually my turkey,’ she reminded him. ‘I bought it from home when I thought I’d be alone here, but now a bigger one’s coming.’ She tried to beam but there was uncertainty behind it. ‘I... If it’s okay with you... It’s not too late to call it off, but...’
‘But what?’ he said and if he sounded goaded he couldn’t help it. Ruby was on the sidelines, looking just as confused as he
was. He didn’t need any more confusion.
This woman had blasted her way into their lives and knocked them both off-kilter, he thought, but then...maybe they’d been off-kilter since Grace died. Maybe their foundations had been blasted away and the force of Polly’s enthusiasms was simply making them topple.
That was pretty much how he was feeling now. As if there was no solid ground under his feet.
‘My parents...’ she said. ‘I’ve invited my parents.’
The ground didn’t get any more solid. Confusion, if anything, escalated.
‘You don’t get on with your parents. Isn’t that why you’re here?’
‘I ran away from home.’ She looked down at Ruby and smiled. ‘How dumb was that? I didn’t figure it out until I saw how much your Uncle Hugo loves you that running away was crazy. And cruel. But it seems too late to run back now, so I thought I’d bring them here.’
‘You ran away?’ Ruby asked and Polly nodded.
‘My mum and dad treat me like a little girl and I was trying to make them see I was a grown-up. But grown-ups don’t run away.’ She took a deep breath and looked directly at Hugo. ‘They stay with those they love.’
‘Do you love us?’ Ruby asked, still puzzled, and Polly gave a wavery smile.
‘I might. I don’t know yet. But I do know I love my mum and dad, so this morning I rang them and invited them for Christmas.’
‘Didn’t you say they’ve booked out a Harbour restaurant?’ Hugo demanded.
‘That’s just the thing,’ she told him, still trying to keep her smile in place. ‘Yes, they’ve booked out the restaurant. They have fifty of their closest friends coming, but most of those friends have been moving in the same social circles for years so if Mum and Dad aren’t there they’ll hardly be missed. We were in Monaco last year and our Australian friends seemed to get on fine without us. It’s me who they will miss. So I thought...’
‘You’d invite them here? I thought...they don’t even know you’re here.’
‘They do now,’ she confessed. ‘Wow, you should have heard the screech on the phone. And I even had to confess about the snake bite. I figured, seeing I’m referred round here as The Doc the Snake Bit, it’d be about two minutes before they found out.’ She sighed. ‘But I can handle it. I’ll just square my chest, tuck in my tummy and face them down.’
