* * *
Oli had taken the children into Truro after getting the boxes down from the attic, because he’d needed to give himself a breather. Not because he was physically tired, but because of the emotional wear and tear it had caused him.
He’d suggested they go for a milkshake and cake, got them both into their warm coats and hats, and into the Land Rover. Then he’d driven away from Conwenna, not really sure where he was going. He’d ended up in Truro, as if guided there by some mystical force; although he now suspected it had something to do with remembering that Grace had mentioned a Christmas shopping trip with her mother. So, when he’d taken the children into Espresso Yourself, and seen Grace and her mother in hysterics, unable to get out of the squishy chair, he’d been delighted.
Helping Grace to get up had been quite an experience. He’d needed to take hold of her waist and to lift her to prevent her from sticking a knee or an elbow into Louise. In his arms, just as she had when they’d danced at Amy’s party, Grace had been warm, soft and smelt so good, he’d been tempted to bury his face in her neck right then and there just to inhale her gorgeous scent.
He knew now, for sure, that being around Grace was having a strange effect upon him. He’d been immune to women, disinterested in their charms for what felt like a lifetime, and now one redheaded, blue-eyed beauty had walked into his world and he just couldn’t get her out of his mind. It was a little unsettling, but also rather welcome as he knew that he could feel alive, that parts of him that had been numb for so long did still want to work. And they wanted to work with Grace. He’d had to force all wicked thoughts from his mind as he’d drunk a coffee, and listened to Amy and Tom debate the merits of strawberry versus banana milkshake. But try as he might, he couldn’t prevent himself from imagining what it would be like to kiss her, to delve his tongue into her mouth and taste her, then…
‘Daddy, shouldn’t you be straightening the branches?’
He blinked hard and realized that he was standing in front of the old Christmas tree, and staring absently out of the front window of his cottage at the pale winter horizon. After the milkshake, he’d decided it was best to get on with the decorations rather than put them off, so here they were trying to make the tree look respectable.
‘Oh!’ He met Amy’s bright eyes. ‘Yes, indeed. I drifted off there.’
She frowned at him and folded her arms.
‘What were you thinking about?’
‘Uh… about how this tree is quite old and we should probably have picked up a new one.’
‘But I like this tree. Mummy chose it.’
‘I know she did.’
‘So we should keep it.’
‘Yes… of course.’
He began straightening the branches, unfolding them from the position they’d been in since last January when he’d packed them away. The musty smell of Christmases gone by assaulted him, and he struggled against the wave of emotion, breathing through his mouth to avoid the memories.
He wondered if the tree lights still worked and realized that he should have checked them too – before they’d left – because he could have picked up some replacements. But it was too late now; if they didn’t work, they’d have to manage until next weekend when he’d have a chance to go and buy some more.
‘Daddy?’
‘Yes?’ He braced himself for another tree comment.
‘How is the cat doing?’
‘The cat?’
‘Yes… the one with the kittens.’
He stopped what he was doing and turned to his daughter.
‘She’s doing well.’
‘Oh, good.’
Amy’s cheeks turned red.
‘Is everything all right, Amy?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘Is there anything you want to tell me? Do you know something about the cat and the kittens?’
Amy hung her head. ‘No.’
‘Amy?’
‘I said no, Daddy! I just wanted to know if she was okay because the kittens need her.’
‘Okay…’ He decided to leave it for now, but he suspected that Amy might know something about the cat that she hadn’t shared with him.
Ten minutes later, he stood in front of the tree with a very disappointed Amy and Tom. And there was nothing as harsh as disappointed children at Christmas time.
‘Oh, guys, I’m so sorry.’
Amy shook her head, then folded her arms across her chest. ‘Why don’t they work, Daddy?’
‘The bulbs must have blown or the fuse has gone… and I don’t think I have any new ones here.’
Tom’s lip wobbled. ‘I liked those lights, Daddy.’
‘I know.’
Oli felt like the worst dad in the history of the world. Why hadn’t he thought to check the damned lights? Linda would have done so. Probably before the children even got up that morning. Wouldn’t she?
‘Look, let’s have some lunch then we could go back out.’
‘What, more shopping?’ Tom groaned.
‘Well, if you want lights on the tree today then we’ll have to.’
‘But I wanted to watch that Christmas film,’ Tom whined.
Oli sighed. He could ring his father and ask him to watch the children, but he didn’t like to keep asking for favours. Paul had Maxine now and she’d already worked the morning at the surgery, feeding and cleaning out the cat and kittens as well as their other two weekend resident dogs who’d come in for treatment. His father deserved to have some peace and quiet with his girlfriend. So there was no one else he could ask, was there?
Just then, there was knocking at the door.
‘Who’s that?’ Amy asked, her eyes wide. ‘Are we expecting anyone?’
Oli bit his lip, again amazed by how mature she sounded.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You two have a look through that box of decorations to see if there’s anything you want to use and I’ll go see who it is.’
He headed out into the hallway and ran his hands through his hair. When they’d got home, he’d slung on an old pair of jogging bottoms that hung low on his hips because the elastic was stretched and a faded grey t-shirt that was a bit clingy after he’d accidentally boiled it. But he hadn’t been expecting company and hadn’t wanted to wear decent clothing to go through dusty old boxes.
And now someone was knocking at the door.
He opened it slowly, trying to hide his bottom half with the door, and peered outside.
‘Oli? Hi, sorry to arrive unannounced but I uh…’ Grace’s eyes roamed over him and he felt his cheeks flush. She was probably wondering why he was hiding behind the door. ‘Sorry am I interrupting something?’
‘No, no.’ He opened the door properly. ‘Of course not. I was just sorting through our old Christmas decorations. Which is why I’m dressed like this.’ He gestured at himself and Grace looked him up and down again. She must think he looked like a sack of potatoes.
‘You look… uh… fine.’ She smiled and her eyes sparkled. The tip of her nose was pink and there were two matching spots on her cheeks. As she spoke, her breath emerged like smoke in the icy air.
‘Wow, I’m so sorry. I should invite you in. It’s getting colder out there.’
‘Oh, it’s okay!’ She waved a hand. ‘I just wanted to see if you wanted these.’ She held up two carrier bags. ‘My parents were going through their old Christmas stuff and they thought you might want some of these decorations and lights for the children. Tom said earlier that you were going to be decorating and…’
‘Oh. Right. Of course he did.’
‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Of course you don’t want these. That seems awful doesn’t it, pushing old trimmings and lights onto you.’
‘Actually,’ he said, reaching for her arm and pulling her gently inside, ‘you’re a lifesaver. I was just surprised that you’d turned up like some beautiful guardian angel, when I was having a comp
lete crisis.’
He closed the door and relieved her of the bags then set them down on the hallway floor.
‘Crisis?’ She frowned.
‘Here, take your hat and coat off and come on through.’ She did as Oli suggested and he took her coat and hung it on the stand behind the front door. It smelt of Grace, her signature perfume with its vanilla and cherry blossom combination, a scent that made his heart beat faster. She handed him her hat and he put it on top of her coat. ‘Yes, see, I put the tree up then got the lights ready, actually spent ages untangling them, then found that they don’t bloody work. So I’ve two very disappointed children in there and I’m currently a contender for Worst Daddy in Cornwall.’
‘Is that an actual competition then?’ Her lips twitched.
‘Yes, didn’t you know? Here in Cornwall we like to celebrate all things disappointing.’
‘Well, I don’t think you need to worry. That’s hardly a terrible thing to do, is it?’
‘You obviously don’t have children.’
He smiled, but his stomach dropped to the wooden floor as he saw her expression change.
‘Oh god, I’ve said the wrong thing haven’t I? I’m so, so sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘It’s okay. You’re not the first to mention it and you certainly won’t be the last.’
‘Really?’ He reached out and placed his hand on her arm. His heart was thudding now, as he really didn’t want to upset her. The smile she’d freely offered him when she’d arrived, a smile that had brightened his day, had been replaced by an air of sadness that made him want to gather her in his arms and hold her tight. He wanted to make it all better for her.
He looked at his hand, where it held her arm, their skin separated only by her black sleeve, and instantly pulled away. Whenever he was around Grace, he found himself wanting to touch her and sometimes doing it without being fully aware of it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
‘Really. It’s fine.’ She smiled again, but her eyes showed that she wasn’t in the same frame of mind as she had been.
Oli resolved to try to bring her real smile back, the one that lit her up from within and made him want to watch her smiling all day long.
‘So what’s in the bags?’
Just then, there was a loud scream.
‘Hold that thought!’
He hurried through to the living room and gasped. Amy and Tom were standing on the sofa, their cheeks red and their faces scrunched up in fury as they tugged something red and white between them. Tom was growling like a small feral animal and Amy was puce-faced and crying.
‘What are they fighting over?’ Grace asked, as she peered around Oli.
‘I have no idea. KIDS! What are you doing? You two don’t fight like this. Not ever.’
Amy turned her watery eyes to him. ‘It’s mine, Daddy, tell him.’
‘Amy…’ Oli suppressed the urge to tell her that she was much older than Tom, and should therefore be more sensible as she was clearly distressed. ‘I can’t see what it is.’
And with that there was the sound of old material tearing and his children collapsed onto the sofa, each one holding half of the offending object. Amy burst into fresh tears, and Tom wailed as if he’d just kicked a brick with no shoes on.
Oli went over to Tom and opened his hands gently then lifted the object up. It was a stuffed Santa toy that Linda had made years ago, the Christmas Amy was born if he remembered correctly. The material was ripe with age and smelt of damp, even though it had been wrapped in plastic and the attic was dry enough to store things.
He then took the other half from Amy. The Santa grinned up at him, unaware that it had just been torn apart.
‘Oh kids, you mustn’t fight. Look what happens.’
He shook his head.
‘Let me have it, Daddy, I can sew it back together,’ Amy held out her hands. Her bottom lip trembled and she had mascara smudges down her cheeks.
‘I don’t think you can, sweetheart. I think he’s had better days.’
‘But Mummy made it…’ She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Oli turned to Grace and shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s got into them.’
‘Christmas can be an emotional time,’ she whispered. ‘Let me have a look at that and see what I can do.’
He handed her the Santa then went to the sofa and sat down. He opened his arms and Amy snuggled into his chest, her tears instantly soaking his t-shirt.
‘Tom, do you want to show me where you have a pair of scissors and some cotton?’ Grace asked.
Tom looked up at Oli.
‘I think there’s some in the kitchen drawer.’
‘You have one of those too?’
‘Sorry?’ He smoothed Amy’s hair back from her hot face.
‘A drawer. The magic one where everything is stored.’
‘Oh… yes. Have to have a drawer.’
‘Come with me then, Tom.’
As Grace left the room, Oli rocked his daughter in his arms. For all that she sometimes seemed so mature, she was still just a little girl and one who’d lost her mum. He thought she held up so well, but at times like these, which didn’t happen often, he was reminded that she was still trying to work her way through her own grief. It was inevitable that she’d miss her mum and want to keep things that reminded her of Linda. Perhaps it was time now to get some of Linda’s belongings down for his children to sort through. They had a right to remember their mother as vividly as possible, and he had a responsibility to help them with that. It was just so damned tough trying to get it all right for them, and he worried that he’d do the wrong thing or make their pain worse.
He could hear Grace’s voice floating in from the kitchen and her gentle tones were soothing to him as well as to Tom, who replied and even laughed.
Well, this certainly wasn’t the best way to get to know a woman better but then that was single fatherhood. Oli came as a package deal and the days of taking a woman out and wooing her with fine food and wine, then perhaps a night of passionate lovemaking were long gone. He was a father first and foremost and that would surely scare a lot of women away.
He just hoped that Grace wasn’t one of those women.
But he had a feeling that she had more about her than that.
Chapter 10
Grace snipped the cotton then held up the Santa to appraise her efforts.
‘What do you think, Tom?’
He peered at the toy then nodded. ‘He’s all fixed like you did an operation on him.’
‘Do you want to take him through to Amy?’
‘Yes, please.’
After Tom had left the kitchen, Grace tidied away the sewing things into the drawer where she’d found them. The drawer was stuffed with bits and bobs, from needles and cotton, to Sellotape, drawing pins and a ticket from a fairground ride. As she’d pulled the cotton out, it had been stuck to an old mint that she’d thrown in the bin. There was also a bar of coal tar soap with its strong nostalgic antiseptic smell, a frayed tape measure and a few foreign coins. Nestled in the corner was a small notebook with a chewed pencil, an unopened pack of dog treats and a box of matches. Kitchen drawers could tell stories about their owners and what they’d been through in their lives.
She leaned against the counter and looked around. The rectangular kitchen had a table and chairs at one end next to French doors that appeared to lead onto a patio area, and the kitchen cupboards, Aga and apron-front sink were at the other. The ceiling was low with wide oak beams and had a lot of similar features to her parents’ cottage. Grace liked the kitchen; it smelt of wood, thyme and garlic, as if years of the Aga burning and cooking meals had permeated the very walls. It had a homely lived-in appeal and she could imagine Oli and his children sitting down together to eat, talking and laughing and enjoying their time together.
Tom was such a cute boy and he made her smile. Before she’d sewn Santa’s legs back on, he’d been danc
ing them across the worktop, creating a rather disturbing scenario where Santa had lost his torso by getting it stuck in the chimney, so his legs had run away. She’d had to stifle her laughter as she’d taken the legs from him, then she’d pricked her finger twice as she’d sewn, because she’d been shaking as she tried to suppress her laughter again.
‘Hey…’ Oli entered the kitchen. ‘Thanks so much for putting Santa back together.’
‘I’m no expert seamstress but he should hold, at least if there’s no more fighting over him.’
‘The children have been warned.’ He leaned against the unit next to her. ‘I’ve lit the fire and put a DVD on for them. Amy’s still quite upset so I’m hoping it’ll distract her.’
‘She’s bound to be. Losing her mum so young must be hard.’
‘She doesn’t deal with it as well as Tom because he was just a baby really when Linda died. But Amy knew her mum, she felt what it was like to be loved by Linda and she feels her loss all the more.’
‘And special occasions bring it all back don’t they?’
He nodded then turned around and placed his hands flat on the worktop. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘A bit… I think.’ She rubbed her belly. ‘Yes, actually I am.’
‘Well, how about I make us some food?’
‘That would be lovely. Do you need a hand?’
‘No, but I’d be grateful if you’d go in there and keep an eye on those two. Just to make sure that Santa doesn’t have another accident.’
‘Of course.’
On the way back to the living room, Grace sent her mother a text to tell her where she was and that she wouldn’t be home for dinner. She found Amy and Tom on the sofa, their eyes glued to the TV, the Santa sitting between them. In the corner of the room the old Christmas tree looked sad and forgotten, unadorned except for a set of lights that weren’t glowing. Grace went over to the tree and turned the plug on but the lights stayed dark.
‘They’re the broken ones.’ Tom shook his head. ‘Daddy said we need new ones.’
‘Yes he did, didn’t he?’
Grace pulled the plug out of the socket, then carefully unwound the lights from the branches. She put the old lights into a plastic bag, then went back to the hallway and retrieved the bags she’d brought with her and carried them into the living room. While cartoon characters sang about Christmas on the TV, Grace wrapped two sets of lights around the tree. She knew they worked as she’d tested them earlier, so once she’d finished, she plugged them in but didn’t turn them on.
Christmas at Conwenna Cove Page 9
