Relief. Pure and utter relief. If Bonnie had left, the door would have been locked.
He brushed the snow off his shoulders and hair and kicked it from his damp shoes.
Still nothing.
He walked silently down the corridor. The light was out in the kitchen and in the back sitting room. His stomach twisted. The green and red garland was gone from the stairs. There was no sign it had even been there.
He held his breath as he stepped into his front room. His completely bare front room.
All signs of Christmas were gone.
The tree. The lights. The garland. The nativity.
Just one small lamp was lit in the corner of the room, reflecting the bare white walls back at him. He’d never realised just how sparse this room was.
Bonnie was sitting on the sofa. She didn’t even turn her head towards him. She was staring at the now unlit fire. Her jaw was set. In one hand she held a glass of wine, the fingers of the other hand running up and down the stem of the glass.
He braced himself, but she said nothing.
‘Bonnie,’ he acknowledged. An elephant had just decided to sit on his chest. At least that was what it felt like.
She didn’t move, didn’t flinch. It was almost as if he weren’t even there.
He swallowed again. He really, really needed a drink of water. His mouth had never felt so dry. But he took a deep breath and sat down next to her on the sofa.
‘Let me try and explain,’ he said quietly.
‘Oh, you’d better.’ Her words dripped ice. Any minute now she was going to pick up the bottle of wine at her feet and launch it at his head.
Jacob had never really been lost for words before. This was a first for him. He didn’t talk. He didn’t share. Ever since his father had packed him off to boarding school once his mother died, there just hadn’t been anyone to share with. Not like that. Not like the way he used to with her.
The truth was, he always felt that no one else had ever been that invested in him. Building walls around yourself as a child protected you as an adult. At least, that was what he’d always thought.
His behaviour tonight had been over the top. He had to explain. He hated what she might think of him right now. What Freya might think of him right now.
‘I’m sorry I upset Freya tonight. I never meant to do that.’
‘Well, you did. And it will be the first and last time.’
Bonnie’s voice had no hesitation. The line was very clearly drawn in the sand.
‘Let me be clear. Freya is my first and only priority. Every. Single. Day.’
He could feel prickles down his back. She was worse than mad.
‘I know that.’
He leaned back against the sofa. This was going to take some work. He wasn’t used to talking about himself. And he had no idea what Bonnie’s response might be to his words.
For a tiny second he squeezed his eyes shut. They were still here. That must mean something.
He licked his dry lips. ‘I haven’t told you much about my past.’
Her fingers continued to stroke up and down the wine-glass stem. It was almost as if she was using it as a measure of control. ‘No. You haven’t.’
She was wearing those jeans again and a soft woollen jumper. Right now he wanted to reach out and touch her. Right now he wanted to feel some comfort. Saying these words out loud wasn’t easy.
‘My mother died when I was ten.’
There. It was out there. The light in the corner flickered inexplicably and he heard her suck in a breath.
‘She was the heart of our family. I was an only child and my father spent most of his life in the military. When my mother died it was almost as if all the life was just sucked out of us both.’
She turned a little towards him. ‘What did you do?’
He shrugged. ‘What could I do? I was ten. I’d spent most of my time with my mother. We’d shared everything. My relationship with my father had always been a little strained. I just think he didn’t know how to relate to kids.’
As he was talking he’d moved to face her and as he finished his last sentence her eyebrows lifted. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Like father, like son. And he was struck by the realisation that was the last thing he wanted.
He fixed on her blue eyes. ‘My dad sent me to boarding school.’
‘Do those places even exist any more? I thought they only ever existed in Enid Blyton books.’
He shook his head. ‘Oh, they exist all right. And they’re just the place to send a ten-year-old whose mother’s died.’ He couldn’t keep the irony or the bitterness out of his voice. ‘I hated every second of it. The education part was fine. The school activity part was fine. But to go from living with your mother, to living there, with nothing really in between...’ His voice tailed off.
‘Why did he send you there?’
Jacob sighed. ‘There was no one else to look after me. I’m an only child and so were my father and mother. Both sets of grandparents were already dead. My father had another posting abroad with the military and there was no question that he wouldn’t go. He told me later that he’d always planned on sending me to boarding school.’ He pushed up the sleeves of his wet jumper.
She tilted her head to one side. ‘Had your mother stopped that?’
He shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’ He groaned and sagged back against the sofa. ‘There were so many things that I wished I had asked her. So many conversations I wish I could remember. Most of it is just all caught up in here.’ He waved his finger next to his head. ‘Sometimes I think that things I remember I’ve just made up.’
‘How did she die?’
Jacob hesitated, then took a deep breath. ‘Cancer. Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It was brutal—it sucked the life right out of her.’
She licked her lips. ‘Did you go to your mother’s funeral?’
He nodded. ‘It was full of people I didn’t really know. No one really spoke to me. And because of the time of year it was bitter cold and lashing with rain. We were only at the graveside for around five minutes.’
A little spark of realisation shot across her face. ‘When did your mother die, Jacob?’
This was it. This was the important part. He felt his eyes fill up and was instantly embarrassed. Men didn’t cry. Men shouldn’t cry.
But no matter how hard he tried not to, one tear escaped and slid down his cheek. His voice was hoarse. ‘She died three days before Christmas. I came home to a house we’d decorated together, that would never feel the same again.’
‘Oh, Jacob.’ Bonnie’s tears fell instantly, and she reached up to his cheek to brush his away. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what that felt like.’
Now he’d started he couldn’t stop. He felt safe. He felt safe talking to Bonnie. Someone he’d known only a month and invited into his home. There was nothing superficial about Bonnie Reid. She was all heart and soul. He’d never met anyone like her before. Or if he had, he’d never taken the time to get to know them.
It felt right to tell Bonnie about his mother and why his insides were so messed up about Christmas.
‘I felt like when we buried my mother, we buried a little bit of ourselves. My father was never the same. I can’t remember ever seeing my father smile once my mother died. Our relationship was non-existent. I’m embarrassed by it. I’ve no idea if he just couldn’t cope. If it was all just grief. Or, if my mother had brought out another side of him, and when she died he just reverted back to how he normally was. All I know is that from the age of ten, happiness just didn’t feature in our house.’
Bonnie’s tears were free-flowing. ‘That’s awful. You had no one? No one else you could turn to?’
He shook his head. ‘Christmas felt like a curse after that. That’s why I hate it so much
. I try not to be bitter. But it just doesn’t evoke the happy memories in me that it does for others. I do have good memories of Christmases with my mother. But they were so long ago. Sometimes I wonder if they even existed.’
‘Oh, Jacob.’ Bonnie reached over, her hand stroking the top of his. She left it there and squeezed gently, the warm sleeve of her jumper touching his forearm.
It was the touch. The heat of her hand, coupled with the act of compassion. Something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. Or maybe it was the relief?
The relief of reaching thirty-seven and finally being able to share with someone. It was as if a whole dark weight had lifted off his shoulders. He couldn’t rationalise it. It didn’t make any sense. But saying the words out loud, to someone who might actually understand, was a whole new concept for Jacob.
These last fourteen months had been so hard. The next few weeks probably the hardest while he waited for his results. The outcome of whether he’d come out the other side of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, or he’d succumb like his mother. Bonnie and Freya had been good for him. They’d brought some light back into his life at a time when he needed it most.
Bonnie squeezed his hand again. ‘You can’t do that, Jacob. You can’t take your feelings out on my little girl.’
He pulled his hand away and put them both up to his face, cringing. ‘I know that. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. I just came in, saw the decorations and it brought back a whole host of things I just wasn’t ready for.’ He put his head in his hands for a second. ‘I overreacted. I know I overreacted. I’m sorry, I really am.’ He turned to face her.
She was beautiful. Bonnie Reid was actually beautiful. Even with the harsh light in this stark white room, her dark red hair, bright blue eyes and pale skin made her the most beautiful woman he’d ever been close to. ‘What can I do? What can I do to make it up to her? To make it up to you? I don’t want her to hate me. I don’t want her to be scared of me.’
Bonnie nodded slowly and met his gaze. There was a gentle smile on her lips. ‘I can’t tell you that, Jacob. You’ve got to figure that out for yourself. You’re the adult—she’s the child. You have to take some time to work through how you feel about everything.’
‘How do I do that?’ His voice was low. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. All he wanted to do was reach out and touch her perfect skin—to join the invisible dots between the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose.
He wanted Bonnie and Freya to feel safe. To feel safe around him. Just as he’d felt safe to tell her about his past.
‘What happened to your dad?’
He gave a little sigh. ‘He died—two years ago of heart failure. Had a funeral with full military honours.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘He would have been very proud.’
* * *
Bonnie bent down and lifted the bottle of wine. ‘Why don’t we have a drink together and just talk?’
He nodded, then smiled as he took the bottle from her hand and turned the label around. He raised his eyebrows. ‘Did you open the most expensive bottle of wine that I had?’
She smiled and held up her phone. ‘You bet your life I did. I looked it up online first. I was planning on finishing it before you got back. You’re lucky I left you any.’ She handed him a glass.
He poured the remaining wine into his glass and stopped for a minute, holding it between both hands. He was staring at the liquid in the glass. ‘I’m just glad that you didn’t leave,’ he said quietly.
She reached over and put a hand on his back. ‘I wanted to. I didn’t even care that we had nowhere to go.’ She shook her head, as if she couldn’t quite understand herself. ‘But I just couldn’t, Jacob. Not like this.’
There was a silence for a few moments between them. Was she considering the same implications that he was? That what had started out as a temporary arrangement was becoming so much more?
He looked up through heavy lids. Now he’d come in from the cold, the heat of the house was hitting him in a big way. He’d gone from being frozen to the bone to feeling superheated in a matter of minutes.
Sensations of fatigue were sweeping over him. But his body was fighting it every step of the way. Fighting to hold on to the other sensations in his prickling skin. Those bright blue eyes were mesmerising. She didn’t need to speak. It was almost as if he knew what she was thinking. Was he imagining this? He’d never felt a connection like this before.
‘I guess not everyone leaves,’ he whispered.
Bonnie took a long, slow breath and put her wine glass on the floor. Although her actions were slow and measured, he didn’t doubt for a second that she knew exactly what she was doing.
As she turned to face him, one leg was pulled up on the sofa, tucking under her as she put her arms around his neck. ‘No, Jacob,’ she whispered. ‘Not everyone leaves.’
His breath was stuck somewhere in his throat. He’d never told anyone what he’d just told Bonnie. Now she seemed connected to him—tied to him, and he didn’t want that to end. The blood was roaring through his ears. The feel of the soft fluffy wool on the sleeves of her jumper pushed his temperature skyward.
But his self-defence mechanisms were still kicking into place. He’d lived his life too long like this for them to disappear instantly. ‘But you did leave,’ he murmured. ‘You left your husband.’
He was fixed on her eyes. Fixed on the perfectness of her skin and beautiful auburn hair framing her face. She nodded. ‘I did.’ It was almost as if she sensed she had to tease him every part of the way. She gave a little smile, ‘But I had exceptional circumstances—you know what they were.’
He reached over and touched her hair. ‘Not really. Tell me about them. Tell me about Freya’s dad.’
He could see her hesitation, see her sucking in a breath. He’d just shared with her. She now knew about one of the biggest influencing factors in his life. He’d barely scratched the surface with her.
Her eyes fixed on the floor. ‘Robert was my boyfriend. We were together about a year when I fell pregnant unexpectedly.’ She threw up her hands. ‘I know. Don’t say anything. A midwife accidentally falling pregnant. The irony kills me.’ Then she smiled. ‘But Freya is the best accident that will ever happen to me.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s stupid really, and hindsight is a wonderful thing. Robert’s parents were real traditionalists. So we got swept along with their ideals and got married before Freya arrived. The truth was Robert was never really the marrying kind.’
‘But you married him anyway?’ He gave a little smile. It wasn’t really a question, it was a more a sympathetic observation. Bonnie didn’t seem upset, just a little sad.
She started winding a strand of hair around her finger. She nodded. ‘I think I was more in love with the idea of being in love, than actually being in love. In my heart of hearts, I never really pictured us growing old together.’
‘And?’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I was busy with work and juggling childcare for Freya. I kind of lost sight of being married. Robert was distant—distracted. I suspected something was going on. It made me mad. I came home early from work one day and found another car in the drive. I let myself into the house and found Freya playing downstairs. Robert was upstairs, in bed, with one of my closest friends.’ She shook her head and sagged back a little. ‘It wasn’t my finest hour. The fact Freya was in the house. The fact it was one of my friends...’
Jacob raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, no. What did you do?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘My “friend” ended up naked in my front garden after I’d marched her down the stairs. Robert’s clothes were deposited out of the bedroom window—so at least she found something to wear.’ She shook her head. ‘After that, I just grabbed some things for me and Freya, packed up and went to my parents. I filed for divorce straight away.’
He was watching
her closely. ‘How did you feel?’
She paused for a second. ‘It’s probably a really awful thing to say—but I was more humiliated than anything else. Robert and I had been growing apart. I probably always thought we would come to a natural end. I just didn’t expect it to be like that.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I wasn’t exactly heartbroken about it. I might even have been secretly relieved it was over. But we lived in a small place. Every person in the town knew exactly what Robert had done to me. And pride is a terrible thing. I felt people staring at me wherever I went. I couldn’t take it any longer.’
He nodded slowly. ‘So you came to Cambridge?’
‘I had to. I know you understand, Jacob. It’s called self-preservation. It’s the thing that makes you get out of bed for another day, even when you don’t want to. I needed a change for Freya and me. I needed a chance of a new life for us both.’
He reached and brushed a thumb down her cheek. She was so wise. He’d never met anyone like this before. There was so much more to learn about Bonnie Reid.
He’d shared with her tonight, and now she’d shared with him.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
Her pretty brow furrowed. ‘For what?’
‘For not leaving tonight.’ It was the thing that had bothered him every step of the way back home. It was the thing that he’d dreaded. That he’d expected. Because that was what he deserved. And he knew that. But Bonnie Reid had just surpassed all of his expectations.
His heart squeezed. If he’d left this room as she’d decorated it, things would have been perfect. The fire flickering in the fireplace, the tree lights twinkling all around them. But he’d destroyed all that and brought them back to his white, harsh, empty walls.
Bonnie Reid deserved better than that. Freya Reid deserved better than that.
She licked her lips. It was the tiniest movement—a subconscious movement—but it was all that he needed. He moved forwards, not hesitating, his lips connecting with hers.
She tasted of strawberries mixed with wine. The remnants of her perfume drifted up his nose, the feel of her jumper connecting with the delicate skin at the bottom of his throat. She didn’t seem to mind his wet jumper. She didn’t seem to care that wine sloshed from his glass as he wrapped one arm around her and tangled the other hand through her hair.
A Touch of Christmas Magic Page 11
