A Touch of Christmas Magic

by Scarlet Wilson

  They froze. Neither of them moving. Their eyes locked together.

  ‘Bonnie, can you just sign...? Oh, sorry.’

  They sprang apart. It was stupid. They hadn’t been doing anything but Bonnie could feel the colour rushing into her face.

  Ellis, one of the midwives, was standing with a delivery note in her hand. Her eyes darted between them; it was quite obvious she was cringing and that made Bonnie do the same.

  ‘That’s fine, Ellis. I was just washing up after the twin delivery. Did you hear that things went well?’ She was back into professional mode. She didn’t even look back, just took long strides towards Ellis, taking the delivery note from her hand and walking over to the nurses’ station, pulling a pen from her pocket.

  She was trying to appear as calm and professional as possible. As if nothing at all had been going on between them. Because that was true. Nothing had been going on between them.

  So why was her heart thudding against her chest and why did her cheeks feel as if they were on fire? And why was Ellis looking at her as if she would be the next topic of conversation on the hospital grapevine?

  Ellis took the paperwork and disappeared back down the corridor. Bonnie sucked in a deep breath. What on earth was wrong with her? She’d almost wanted him to kiss her in the sluice at work. Even the thought of that sent a shiver down her spine—it was hardly the most romantic place in the world.

  But it hadn’t been about the place. It had been about the moment. The feel of Jacob’s hand at the small of her back and the way she could see all the tiny lines around his perfect green eyes.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Even her thoughts were getting ridiculous. She had to speak to him. She had to try and understand what was going on. She had to draw a line here. She wasn’t looking for any kind of romance. And definitely not with her new boss—no matter how much he just made her tingle. She spun around towards the sluice again.

  But Jacob was gone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT. Something had changed. And Jacob couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

  All he knew was he was currently sitting on his sofa watching an animated movie with a five-year-old. If someone had told him two weeks ago this was what he’d be doing he’d never have believed it.

  ‘Who’s your favourite dwarf?’ whispered Freya. She’d insisted on the main light being turned off and eating ice cream as if they were at the movies. He’d never really developed a taste for ice cream but rocky road was hitting the spot.

  ‘I like that one,’ he said, pointing at the screen.

  ‘He’s my favourite too.’ She jumped up and a big dollop of ice cream landed on his lap. ‘Oops,’ she said.

  He shrugged and scooped the ice cream off his jeans with his fingers and dumped it in his mouth. Freya went into uncontrollable kinks of laughter.

  All he knew for sure was that the big black cloud that felt as if it were permanently circling above his head had moved a little higher for the past two weeks. Maybe it was the fact that he was now in the waiting cycle. His treatment was over. He didn’t feel quite so snappy. He certainly didn’t feel so tired. And he was free to work with patients again the way he had before.

  Something had definitely improved his mood. Even the junior doctors, who constantly got everything wrong and couldn’t do the most basic of procedures, weren’t annoying him as much as usual. He’d only thrown one out of Theatre the other day, instead of the usual four. People would think he was getting soft. He just wasn’t quite sure if it was the treatment that had improved his mood or the home circumstances.

  Living with Bonnie and Freya was certainly out of his normal experience. Freya had a way of winding him around her little finger. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a five-year-old’s mastermind plot, or if she did it purely unintentionally.

  She jumped up from the sofa and over to her school bag, which was lying on the floor. ‘Look at this!’ she said as she pulled out a crumpled drawing. ‘I made this for you at school today.’ It was a painting of a man—with very big ears. He couldn’t help it—he started to laugh.

  She bounced back up on the sofa next to him. ‘It’s you. Do you like it?’ Her little face was so expectant, just waiting for his approval.

  He touched his ears. ‘Are they really this big?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said without a moment’s hesitation. ‘Can we put it up on the fridge? That’s where my mummy used to put my pictures.’ She tugged at his hand and he let her pull him up and lead him through to the kitchen.

  Bonnie was wiping a glass bowl clean as they walked through. ‘Look what I made for Jacob,’ Freya shouted as she waved the picture. ‘We’re going to put it up.’

  Bonnie glanced at the picture and tried to stifle a laugh. ‘I think that’s lovely, honey,’ she said. She raised her eyebrows at Jacob. ‘Wait and I’ll find you something to put that up with.’ She opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a fridge magnet he didn’t even know he owned. It seemed impolite not to put it up so he stuck it on the fridge.

  Freya’s little face was beaming. ‘Come on,’ she said, tugging at his arm again. ‘My favourite song’s about to start.’

  He’d always loved his home. His sanctuary. His way of getting away from the outside world. But although his peace had been shattered, it was nowhere near as invasive as he might have thought.

  He almost looked forward to coming home to them at night. And he couldn’t work out why. Maybe it was the distraction. He didn’t have time to think about the stuff hanging over his head. He didn’t have time to consider what he would do if the test results weren’t good—if the non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma hadn’t been halted in its tracks.

  He didn’t have time to remember how his mum had died of the horrible disease and how he could have the same future ahead of him. These were the things that used to spin around his head every night when he went to bed.

  ‘Jacob, come on.’ The little voice was impatient. He hadn’t even realised that he’d been staring at Bonnie’s backside in her snug jeans again. She spun around and gave a little smile as she put some cutlery back in a kitchen drawer.

  She looked relaxed. She looked happy. She looked comfortable in his home. Something flipped over inside. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about all this.

  She tilted her head to the side. ‘Should I get us some wine to see us through the rest of the movie?’ She was smiling again.

  He gave a nod as he let Freya lead him back through to the front room and he heard the clink of glasses being pulled from the cupboard.

  Their almost kiss in the sluice would no doubt haunt his dreams tonight.

  What had happened?

  He knew it was something. It was definitely something.

  There had been a tiny moment when...just something could have happened. He’d felt it. And he was pretty sure she’d felt it too. He’d seen it in her all too expressive eyes.

  They’d spent the last week tiptoeing around each other. But that hadn’t stopped the buzz in the air between them. It hadn’t stopped the way their gazes kept connecting with each other.

  He’d spent so long concentrating on his disease and trying to get well again that he was out of practice with all this. But even though it was winter, the temperature here was definitely rising.

  It was official. Bonnie Reid was keeping him awake at night.

  But why did that seem like a good thing and not a bad?

  * * *

  It was her day off and she was prowling around the house. She couldn’t help it. This weekend she would be working on Saturday as part of her rota for the hospital. It was fine. Lynn was happy to have Freya for the day and planned to take her and her boys to London Zoo.

  But Bonnie wasn’t used to having time to herself. She’d cleaned what she could without offending the housek
eeper. She’d learned very quickly what was unacceptable for her to do in the house. All her and Freya’s laundry was washed and ironed and sitting in neat piles. The beds were made, the shopping done.

  She gave a little shudder. The house was getting cold. There had been a dip in the temperature in the last few days and she wasn’t quite sure how the heating worked in this house. She wasn’t quite sure how Jacob would feel if he found out she was tampering with the settings on his heating. She walked across the front room, her footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards, her hand running across the top of the mantelpiece.

  There was an ornamental coal scuttle at her feet. She knelt down. It was filled with real coal. Jacob had said he hadn’t got round to having the chimney swept.

  She gave another shudder. Nothing would be nicer at this time of year than a real fire burning in this gorgeous fireplace.

  She stood upright. That was what she could do. Jacob didn’t seem to have any objections to a real fire. He’d just made it sound as if he hadn’t got round to it. He wouldn’t accept any money from her and, to be honest, it felt a little embarrassing. Maybe paying to have the chimney professionally swept would be a way to try and repay him a little for his kindness?

  She didn’t hesitate. This was the best idea she’d had in a while. She walked out to the hallway and dug around for the phone book. They were in the middle of Cambridge. There were lots of traditionally built houses around here. There must a local chimney sweep.

  Jacob was on call. He might even not be home at all tonight. Sometimes he ended up just staying at the hospital if he was on call. As the consultant he would be called if there was any emergency with a patient. He’d already told her that he wasn’t entirely sure that all the junior members of staff would page him. Some of them still seemed a little nervous around him. She’d tried not to laugh when he’d said that to her.

  She picked up the phone and dialled. By the time Jacob got home tonight—or maybe tomorrow morning—she’d have a lovely fire burning in the fireplace, heating up the whole house and giving the place a more homely feel.

  He’d love it. She was sure he would.

  * * *

  The first thing he’d noticed was the strange smell. Ever since Bonnie had arrived his house had smelled of those clean laundry candles that she insisted on lighting everywhere. They actually made his nose itch but he wasn’t inclined to tell her.

  She’d waved some red and green ones under his nose the other night and told him she’d bought some Christmas spice candles. If this was what they smelled like he’d be blowing them straight out.

  She still hadn’t picked up on his hints about Christmas. The main fact being he just didn’t do it.

  There was a strange noise to his left. It sounded like a sniffle. Or more like a sob.

  He sneezed. Something was definitely irritating him.

  ‘Jacob? Is that you?’

  Bonnie. Her voice sounded panicked. He dropped his bag at the door and lengthened his stride, walking into his front room.

  Or walking into the room that used to be his front room.

  Bonnie was on her hands and knees on the floor, a basin next to her, scrubbing away at the floorboards. Freya was sitting on a towel on the faraway leather sofa playing with her dolls.

  He sucked in a breath at the sight of his perfect white walls.

  They weren’t perfect any more. There was a huge black streak that seemed to have puffed out from the fireplace and left an ugly, angry, giant-sized handprint on the wall.

  Bonnie jumped up to speak to him. Soot was smudged across her cheeks and forehead, even discolouring her dark auburn hair. The front of her T-shirt was dirty, as were the knees of her trousers. ‘Oh, Jacob. I’m so sorry. I thought I would have a chance to clean this up before you got home.’

  He stepped forwards into the room and held out his hands. ‘What on earth happened?’

  Freya tutted from her sofa and shook her head. ‘Naughty Mummy.’ She fixed her eyes on Bonnie. ‘Told you,’ she said in the voice of someone at least fifty years older than her.

  Tears streaked down Bonnie’s face. ‘I thought it might be a nice idea to get the chimney swept for you. You know—so you could come home to a nice warm fire. The house was so cold today. So I contacted a chimney sweep. And they seemed so professional. They even put a covering on the floor and some kind of plastic seal around the fireplace. But when he swept the chimney, there must have been a gap.’ She turned to face the blighted wall again as her voice wobbled. ‘And it just seemed to go everywhere. And they tried to clean up, they really did. And they’ve promised to come back tomorrow and repaint the walls.’

  He should be angry. But Bonnie was babbling. Just as she had that first day he’d met her. Just as she did when she was really, really nervous and thought she’d just blown things.

  It was kind of endearing. But he’d never tell her that.

  ‘Okay,’ he said quietly.

  She looked confused. Another tear streaked down her smudged face. ‘Go and get washed up. I’ll finish the clean-up.’

  He was too tired to be angry. He’d wanted to come home to a quiet house and rest. But the days of coming home to a quiet house were over. He could never imagine a house being quiet while Freya stayed there. She was questioning. She was curious. She was relentless.

  Her head bobbed up from the menagerie of dolls she had accumulated on the other sofa. She shot him a smile. ‘Hi, Jacob. How many babies did you see today?’

  ‘Four,’ he said promptly.

  This had turned into a game. She asked every day. She frowned at him. ‘Just four. Your record is six. You’ll need to do better.’

  ‘I agree.’ He nodded towards Bonnie. ‘On you go. Go and get showered. Freya will be fine.’

  Bonnie still seemed surprised by his mediocre reaction. The truth was he was surprised by his reaction too. If he waited to see the chimney sweep tomorrow the reaction might not be quite so contained. But he wouldn’t do that either.

  He noticed the extra coal scuttle by the fire that contained wood-burning logs. Bonnie must have bought them to help light the fire.

  When was the last time someone had done something like this for him? Sure, a few of his friends had offered help when they knew about his diagnosis. Hope and Isabel were the only two people—apart from his consultant—in the entire hospital who knew about his diagnosis. He’d worked with Hope for years and even though Isabel had only arrived a few months ago he’d known straight away she was completely trustworthy. When she’d caught him being sick in the sluice one day she’d just pulled the door closed and come over and asked what was wrong.

  Both tried to help by feeding him various items of food. Hope had even tried to bake chocolate muffins for him and Isabel had handed him some tubs of beef casserole to stick in the freezer. Anything to get him to eat and keep his strength up. But he was embarrassed to say he’d only been minimally grateful. He was so focused on people not knowing what was wrong that he didn’t really want to accept help.

  This felt different. This was nothing about his illness. Bonnie knew nothing about that at all—and that was the way he liked it. The last thing he wanted to see on her face was pity.

  This was something spontaneous. Something completely unique to him and her. Of course, she currently felt indebted to him. And that did kind of irk. But the fact she’d wanted to do something for him...just warmed him from the inside out.

  He finished scrubbing the floor and carried the basin of dirty water back through to the kitchen, scrubbing his hands and turning the oven on for dinner. He put on the TV for Freya and headed upstairs into the shower. It only took two minutes to wash the smell of the hospital from his skin and hair, and pull on some jeans and a T-shirt.

  As he headed back along the corridor Bonnie passed him on the stairs carrying Freya in her arms. ‘S
orry,’ she whispered. ‘I made her dinner earlier and she’s knackered. I’m just going to put her to bed. I didn’t get a chance to put anything on for our dinner.’

  Jacob noticed the circles under her eyes. He didn’t want her to feel as if she had to do anything for him. ‘How about I make it simple? Beans on toast?’

  She smiled. It was the first genuine smile that he’d seen today. ‘Perfect. Thank you.’

  His culinary skills were just about up to beans on toast. He opened a bottle of white wine and spent a few minutes setting a new fire and lighting it. As his fingers touched the coal he was swamped by a whole host of memories. Last time he’d lit a fire he’d been trying to keep his shivering mother warm. She’d been at the stage when she’d been permanently cold, even though their house hadn’t been cold.

  Once she’d died, he’d never gone to the bother of cleaning out the fireplace and restocking it. Neither had his father.

  The fire lit quickly. Probably due to the modern firelighters. By the time he’d finished the dinner in the kitchen and walked back through with them both on a tray, Bonnie was sitting on the leather sofa, mesmerised by the fire. She jumped when he set the tray down on the low wooden table. ‘Give me a sec,’ he said, before returning with the wine and two glasses.

  Her freshly washed dark auburn hair was piled up in a loose knot on top of her head, with a few little curling strands escaping. She’d changed into her favourite jeans and a gold T-shirt with a few scattered sequins that caught the flickering flames from the fire. Her pale skin glowed in the light.

  She sighed as he poured the wine and she settled the plate on her knees. ‘I don’t know if I deserve this.’

  Jacob looked at her sideways. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face. She seemed so despondent. ‘I’m not sure you do either. But it’s either we drink wine together, or we fight. Take your pick.’ He held up his glass towards her.

  She paused for a second before catching a glimpse of the laughter in his eyes, then lifted her glass and clinked it against his. ‘I’m too tired to fight. I’ll just drink the wine.’