Santa's Secret

by Serenity Woods

  Well, she wasn’t there to impress anyone, and she didn’t have to apologise for anything. She decided to change the subject.

  “So you mentioned Helsinki—is that where you’re from?”

  He nodded. “Yes, although I work all over the world. I spend quite a lot of time in the States, Dubai, Hong Kong, as well as London.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Buy land, build developments, housing, hospitals, anything really. I have an eye for a good site, and it has served me pretty well.”

  So, he was well off then. That much was evident in his expensive wrist watch, his designer jeans, even the quality of the sweater.

  Eva looked across at Isabel, who was now watching Oscar push his baked beans into a row with his finger. “Does Isabel go with you around the world?”

  “No, she stays with my mother in Helsinki.”

  His voice didn’t change, but something in the tone, possibly defensiveness or resentment, made her look up at him. His face was carefully blank, but as she smiled, he blew out a big sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he said. “I think that came out harsher than I meant it.”

  “That’s okay,” Eva said, wondering what bothered him. She glanced at Isabel, who was trying to show Oscar how to cut a chicken nugget in half. Oscar was rebelling by singing loudly, but at least they were both distracted.

  Eva decided to probe a little. “It must be difficult, leaving Isabel behind so much.” She speared some pasta on her fork and raised her eyebrows innocently.

  Rudi also glanced at his daughter, saw her attention focussed on Oscar and looked back at Eva. “It is not easy,” he murmured. “Vanessa—my ex-wife—moved away over a year ago and my mother feels we have both abandoned Izzy.”

  Eva knew the guilt and worry that parents could engender in their children, and she smiled sympathetically. “Well, you have to earn a living, and it’s not necessarily your fault if that means you have to go abroad occasionally.”

  His face lit with relief that she seemed to understand and wasn’t about to throw an accusation at him. Had that been the usual reaction of women he spoke to, then? “I try never to stay away for more than a week at a time,” he said, “but sometimes it is difficult when there is a convention on or something.”

  “She doesn’t seem to be turning out badly, anyway,” Eva said. “She’s a lovely young lady.”

  Isabel’s gaze remained on Oscar, but her cheeks reddened. So she was listening.

  “She is very beautiful, just like her mother,” Rudi said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind his daughter’s ear. He sounded almost regretful rather than pleased.

  Eva speared some more pasta on her fork. A rich, beautiful wife who no doubt lavished attention on her daughter the few rare times she saw her. Eva could imagine how that would go. Presumably Rudi’s grandmother was the force behind Isabel’s good manners and the squeaky-clean little girl image, which implied Rudi felt the same way. “They grow up so quickly, don’t they?” she said, chewing the pasta. “I know I’m keen to keep Oscar as young as I can for as long as I can.”

  “Hmm,” Rudi said, his blue eyes settling on her thoughtfully.

  The waiter brought up their drinks, and Isabel sipped her water and watched Oscar blow bubbles in his lemonade. “The sugar in fizzy drinks rots your teeth,” she told Oscar.

  In reply, he blew even harder, spraying the drink across the table.

  Eva removed the glass and straw, ignored his wail and told him that when he was sitting down and had eaten another chicken nugget he’d get the drink back. Then she handed Isabel a serviette to mop up the drips. “Sorry.”

  “He is very naughty,” Isabel said.

  “Isabel!” Rudi looked appropriately embarrassed at her accusation.

  “He’s a boy,” Eva pointed out. “And boy behaviour isn’t necessarily bad behaviour. He’s not even four yet, so he doesn’t always know how to behave in the right way. That’s why we have to teach him.” She watched him eat the nugget, then gave him back his drink. This time he sipped it, watching her carefully.

  “So tell me about yourself,” Rudi said. Eva looked back at him, surprised to see a warmth in his eyes. “Are you from England? Your accent is…not quite English either, I think.”

  She smiled. “I’m originally from New Zealand.”

  “Ah. Down Under!”

  She laughed. “Yes. Although to be honest that term usually refers to Australians.”

  “I do not know much about New Zealand,” he admitted. “There are two islands, yes? And the capital is Wellington.”

  “Very good,” she said, impressed. “Most people think it’s Auckland, as that’s the biggest city. And yes, there are two islands. I live in at the top of the north island. It’s sub-tropical there, very warm and humid in the summer.”

  “This must seem very different to you.” He gestured out of the window at the snow.

  “Very. There is something lovely about a cold festive season. Oddly, I suppose, we have snowmen and robins on all our Christmas cards, even though our Christmas is hot. When I moved to the UK, I so looked forward to a Dickensian Christmas, but unfortunately it tends to be mild and damp there—I haven’t seen snow at all. So it’s lovely to come here and have a ‘proper’ Christmas.”

  “So you live in the UK?” He leaned back as the waiter arrived with his pasta.

  Eva pushed a few spirals around her plate. “Yes. I went there on an OE—that’s what New Zealanders call it, the ‘overseas experience’. Everyone does one at some point in their lives, usually. I met my husband there four years ago, and I’ve lived there ever since.”

  Rudi nodded. “Is he coming here to be with you and Oscar for Christmas?”

  She pushed her plate away. “No. He died eighteen months ago.”

  Rudi looked horrified at his blunder. “Oh goodness. I am so sorry to hear that. How insensitive of me.”

  That made her smile. “You weren’t to know. It was a perfectly sensible question. And it’s okay—I mean, I’m okay. We’re okay.” Now she was waffling. “I mean, I miss him of course…”

  “Of course.”

  “…but…” And now she’d dug herself a hole. Jeez, she barely knew this man. How could she be pouring out the contents of her heart so suddenly, as if she’d walked up to the hole and stumbled straight in?

  And yet his gaze was gentle, and Isabel and Oscar were talking about the latest Disney movie as if they’d known each other all their lives, and the snow was falling so softly and magically outside, and suddenly Eva wanted to confide, wanted to share something with this gentle Viking, whose blue eyes were watching her, curious and tempting her to talk, promising not to be accusatorial.

  “Go on,” he said.

  She turned her glass of lemonade in her fingers. “Damon’s family have been very good to me. My mother died when I was young and I’m not close to my father. They’ve looked after me and Oscar, made sure we want for nothing.”

  “And you feel beholden to them because of that,” he suggested.

  She hesitated. Then, realising the world hadn’t come to an end with his statement, she nodded slowly. “Yes. A bit. Damon’s mother misses him terribly—of course she does; he was her eldest son. And I’m happy to be there for her. But it’s just that she makes me feel so terribly guilty because I don’t miss him as much as I should.” She finished in a rush, not really believing she was finally putting voice to the thoughts that had been in her head for so long.

  Tears welled in her eyes as regret and shame swept over her, and she sat back and blew her nose. What must Rudi be thinking? Here she sat, only eighteen months a widow, saying she didn’t miss her dead husband. Wow, Eva. You really could win a Crappiest Wife Competition, you know that?

  Rudi leaned forwards and started eating his pasta, then calmly picked up a stray chicken nugget and placed it back on Oscar’s plate. “They look tasty,” he said to the boy, tapping the plate. “But I bet you are full. You cannot eat them all, surely
?”

  “Yes, I can,” Oscar announced, contrary as ever, and proceeded to stuff a whole one into his mouth.

  “You should cut it in half first,” Eva said, a little hoarsely, shooting Rudi a grateful look for not pressing the issue and trying to distract things.

  He just smiled and asked, “So where do you live in England?”

  They passed the next half an hour talking about practical matters, about houses and cities, where they’d travelled and people and places they’d seen. Eva ordered an ice cream sundae for Oscar, knowing he wouldn’t eat it all but also knowing he’d love the chocolate sauce between the layers, and she was pleased when Isabel fought against her natural instincts to order the fruit salad and also chose the sundae.

  Rudi didn’t mention Damon or what she’d said about her marriage again. As they finished their meals and left the restaurant, walking back slowly along the snowy path to their cabins, Eva shot him a grateful look.

  “Thank you,” she said, holding out a gloved hand to catch snowflakes, “for being so polite and not saying what a terrible wife I am.”

  He chuckled. “You are very welcome. And I think you are so not terrible, really. I think there is probably more to the story than meets the eye.”

  She buried her chin in her scarf. He was quite astute.

  Ahead of them, the lanterns in front of their cabins lit the snow with golden circles. Isabel tried to get Oscar to walk nicely beside her, but he kept running ahead to scoop up snow in tiny handfuls. Crushing one lot into a ball, he threw it at her. He was usually terrible at throwing, but this time his aim went true and it struck her in the middle of her chest.

  Isabel stood there, looking aghast, and Eva’s hand rose to cover her mouth. “Oh dear.”

  To her delight, however, Isabel’s face lit up, and she bent to scoop up some snow herself, forming it into a ball that she then threw at the boy.

  “Gently, Izzy,” Rudi called, but he needn’t have worried; the girl was thoughtful enough to be considerate of Oscar’s age and made sure she threw it softly enough so it scattered lightly down his coat.

  They watched the two children running around outside the cabins and paused beneath the lantern to let them have a few minutes of fun.

  Eva stuffed her hands in her pockets, watching her breath frost before her face. She looked up at the sky, seeing the stars decorating the black velvet like glitter. “No lights?” she said, disappointed.

  “The aurora borealis?” Rudi looked up too. “I am sure we will see it before Christmas. Sometimes the colours are quite breath-taking.”

  Eva nodded, captivated anyway by the amount of stars, the sky seemingly untouched by light pollution. “Beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” he said softly.

  She lowered her head, startled to see his gaze on her, not on the sky. He was only a foot away, and once again—as it had earlier—time seemed to slow, and the whole world consisted of just the two of them.

  Rudi towered over her, tall, broad, and as masculine as any Viking she could imagine had existed in real life. Snow lay thickly on his hair and shoulders, but he didn’t seem to feel the cold. His gaze rested on hers, and she wasn’t surprised to see it lit with the same flames of desire that she knew must be flickering in her own eyes.

  His lips parted, and for a moment Eva thought he was going to kiss her. Her heart pounded, her own lips parting in response as her breath quickened. How long had it been since she had kissed a man? At least eighteen months. And in fact more than that, as Damon had gone away frequently towards the end before he died.

  If Rudi leaned towards her, what should she do? Lean forwards too? Kiss him back? What if Oscar and Isabel saw them? Jeez, she’d just met the guy. Would she look easy? But it would only be a kiss! Talk about getting carried away, Eva.

  Something of what she was thinking must have shown in her eyes, because Rudi blinked, breaking the spell as it had before, and they both moved back a little. Disappointment swept through her, with an equal measure of relief. She couldn’t kiss a stranger in front of her son, out there in the middle of the road. What was she thinking?

  A snowball landed squarely on Rudi’s shoulder, thrown by the inimitable Oscar, who squealed with laughter. Rudi caught him and swung him upside down, and the boy screamed with pleasure.

  Eva chuckled. “Okay you, time to go in, and then it’s bath and bed.”

  “I don’t want to go to bed!”

  She ignored him and smiled at Rudi as he lowered the boy to the ground. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  “Thank you for letting us join you. It was very kind and I had a nice time.” His eyes showed regret. Was he wishing he’d kissed her after all?

  She nodded, fighting against her own regret that threatened to rise. “Perhaps we’ll see you around tomorrow?”

  “Of course. It is a small place, after all.”

  They smiled at each other, and then Eva walked away, Oscar wet mitten in hers.

  Chapter Four

  The following day, Rudi got up, showered, dressed, then sat at his computer just as Isabel rolled over in the sofabed and rubbed her eyes.

  “Morning, Daddy,” she said.

  “Good morning.” He smiled. She had undone her braids and her hair now lay spilled out on the pillow around her, a mass of golden waves like a wheat field in summer. She looked like a Scandinavian goddess, Freyja maybe, or a princess, he thought—Eva was right.

  Isabel sat up and stretched, then pushed herself out of bed, shoved her feet into the slippers and padded over to him. To his surprise, she climbed onto his lap and put her arms around him.

  “Hey, rakas. What is the matter?”

  “I had a bad dream.”

  “What was it about?”

  She refused to tell him, but seemed happy to snuggle up to him, comforted by his presence, so he sat back in the seat and put his arms around her, resting his lips on the top of her head. There was nothing to her; he could feel the bones of her ribs through her nightdress, and she weighed hardly anything.

  A rush of love ran through him, and he tightened his arms around her. She was not a daddy’s girl and had never been overly demonstrative, so this sudden display of affection caught him unawares. How long had it been since someone—anyone—had put their arms around him like this? He had been starved for physical contact for so long that he had trained himself to think he didn’t need it. Frieda gave him a kiss on the cheek when she saw him, but apart from that he hadn’t had a decent hug for an eternity.

  In the cabin next to his, the front door banged and through the curtains he saw Eva walk down the path to the village, Oscar running beside her. He blew out a long, slow breath. The night before he had come very, very close to kissing her. That showed how starved for affection he was. He’d only just met the poor woman. She’d lost her husband and come to Rovaniemi to escape—the last thing she would have wanted was some strange guy taking advantage of her.

  And yet…she’d looked up at him with those dark brown eyes, and her lips had parted, and she’d looked very much like she wanted to be kissed. He remembered what she’d said in the restaurant, I don’t miss him as much as I should. The admission had upset her, and her eyes had glassed over, with tears not far from the surface. Rudi had changed the subject, even though he’d wanted to ask her more. He had felt the guilt rolling off her in waves, and he could understand why—what an admission to make to a complete stranger! And yet, he thought he understood.

  In a way, it was the same with him and Vanessa. When they were first together, he’d thought he would be consumed by jealousy and would kill any man who touched her, but by the time he found out about her affair, the only emotion he could summon was a vague sense of relief that he finally had an excuse to divorce her—that he didn’t have to make something up. Everyone, including Frieda, had treated him with kid gloves for months as if worried he was going to break down or something, but although he’d thrown himself into work and retreated socially, the overriding fee
ling had only been satisfaction that she wasn’t his responsibility anymore. He was still supporting her financially, which irked him considering she’d never contributed much to their marriage, but he had enough in the coffers to go around and ultimately he was just glad she’d gone.

  So maybe he could understand why Eva wasn’t devastated. Maybe her marriage had already broken down before her husband died. Whatever the reason, Rudi didn’t think it was simple callousness that had prompted her to make the statement. She hadn’t seemed like a callous person, even though he’d only known her for a matter of hours.

  He’d planned to spend an hour or two that morning going through his emails and doing a bit of work, but with Isabel’s arms tight around his neck and the thought of Eva in his head, suddenly he wanted to do something different.

  “Hey,” he murmured, rubbing his daughter’s back. “How about we have a quick bit of breakfast then go into the village together?”

  She lifted her head and nodded. Her eyes looked a little watery, and he felt a surge of guilty that she seemed so unhappy.

  He kissed her forehead. “We shall have a lovely day, rakas, eh? Lots of fun at Santa’s Secret Village. Now, go and get dressed and I will make us some toast.”

  *

  Within half an hour, the two of them had wrapped up in thick coats, gloves, hats and scarves and they made their way towards the village. It had been snowing all night, by the looks of it, and their footsteps of the evening before had disappeared, leaving the pavement a carpet of untouched white beauty.

  “Where would you like to go?” he asked. “We could visit Santa’s Playground.” Apparently the theme park brought in the most money in the complex, so he was keen to cast his eye over it. “Or maybe go for a reindeer ride.” Every child’s dream!

  But to his surprise, Isabel pointed over to the Exhibition Centre, and he saw the back of Eva in her brown duffle coat with the flash of scarlet at her neck and on her head in the form of a red bobble hat disappearing into the building, Oscar running ahead of her.