Christmas Wishes

by Sue Moorcroft

  Her eyes twinkled. ‘Important date with a casserole.’ She indicated her plate with her fork and changed the subject to Nan Heather and how she hadn’t been speaking to her boyfriend until today.

  He grinned. ‘If any ninety-year-old lady would be giving her boyfriend the run-around, it would be her.’

  ‘I’m afraid she felt he’d messed up. But he’s been sending gifts and today she suddenly phoned him. He’s invited her to stay at his house.’

  ‘Any idea why the change of heart?’ He wasn’t worried about the details of Nan Heather’s love life but he enjoyed watching Hannah as she talked.

  ‘I know exactly.’ Sighing, she laid her cutlery neatly on her empty plate. ‘It’s so I don’t have to stay with her. I’ve called my parents – they’re in southern Belgium – and they agree that if Nan’s going to stay with Brett there’s no need for me to be here.’

  ‘Oh.’ He hadn’t quite finished his meal but his appetite switched off. ‘Will you stay in the village?’

  ‘Not sure.’ She fidgeted. Expressions he couldn’t read flitted across her face. Then she screwed up her face and blurted, ‘Nico, if you want help with the children now your dad’s in hospital, would you like me to go to Sweden with you?’

  His heart hopped like a frog in a frying pan. ‘Oh, jeez, yes,’ he managed huskily.

  Hannah barged on, her cheeks glowing with colour. ‘Nan’s convinced you’ll leap at it because I speak Swedish reasonably well and the kids know me, so you could leave them with me and know I could take them around OK. But the more I think about it the more I think inviting myself along is crazy! Your family won’t necessarily be able to put me up and I expect you can cope with one hand tied behind your back. Offering feels intrusive and cheesy. Although it would also be convenient for me if I could make a dash to Stockholm to sort out a business matter while I’m in Sweden.’

  ‘It would be perfect,’ he got in more loudly.

  She stopped. Her gaze flew to his. ‘What would?’

  ‘It would be incredibly kind and appreciated if you’d come,’ he said simply. ‘Apart from speaking Swedish, you’re dependable and independent. It would be a weight off my shoulders to know that whatever happens with Dad there’s someone there to take care of the girls.’ To hide the fact that his throat was tightening – and he’d already shed tears in front of this woman – he reached for his laptop. ‘Let’s see if I can get you on our flight.’ Then he stopped, conscious of silence from the other side of the table and big, aquamarine eyes fixed on him. ‘Or am I moving too fast?’

  She laughed uncertainly. ‘No. Maybe. I thought you’d hum and haw and talk things over with your family.’

  A grin took charge of his face and he opened the British Airways site with fingers metaphorically crossed that there would still be an available seat. The screen flickered and flashed and offered ticket availability. ‘In or out?’ he asked, finger hovering over the buy button.

  She gave an incredulous giggle. ‘In!’

  He took out his credit card, waving away her offer to contribute. ‘You don’t do someone a huge favour and then pay your own way. Leave me to talk to my mum about accommodation.’ Neither of his parents nor his brother had large homes but he was sure they could stick a camp bed in his mum’s study or something.

  He was going to spend a week with Hannah.

  And, though she hadn’t yet told him herself, she was no longer coupled up with Albin.

  While Hannah put the dishes in the dishwasher and made coffee, Nico called Carina, raising an eyebrow to discover she was still at the hospital with his dad but not commenting. He outlined Hannah’s offer.

  To his surprise, Carina didn’t, as he’d expected, leap in with queries and questions. ‘Let me talk to your father,’ she said. The line became muffled for a while, then she returned. ‘Lars says you should take over his house. It makes perfect sense. Hannah can have a room and you can share with the girls. If you came to my house it would be more cramped.’

  ‘But Dad might come out of hospital while we’re there,’ Nico pointed out.

  ‘Wait a moment.’ Another muffled conversation. Then: ‘If that happens, he will come to my spare room for a few days because it’s tricky coming out of hospital when you live alone. Now he’s falling asleep so I’ll say goodnight. Lycklig resa.’ She added the wish for a fortuitous journey quickly, as if to forestall further questions.

  Well, now. Nico had no idea how to take that little development. It gave him a warm feeling to picture his parents together on some basis but all he said to Hannah as he came off the phone was: ‘Looks like we’ve got ourselves somewhere to stay.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  As the aircraft circled Gothenburg airport, passengers craned to see the grey shapes of cleared runways and curving wheel tracks cut into dazzling white snow. A rank of snow blowers and ploughs stood in readiness for the next snowfall.

  Josie was in the window seat and, tingling, Hannah gazed at the view over her shoulder. She hadn’t realised she’d missed Sweden until this moment.

  Last night she’d phoned her parents to update them just as they’d been snuggling down in The Bus with their books and bedtime Bovril, prompting a perfect hail of anxious questions about whether she and Nan were doing the right thing. Hannah had been as soothing as she could without reversing her decision.

  Next, Rob had rung, no doubt tipped off by Mo. Hannah had half-joked, ‘Mum clears off on the big adventure then wants a say in what happens at home! I suppose you don’t think I should go either?’

  ‘I think you should,’ Rob corrected her, comfortingly. ‘Leesa and I will call on Nan and Brett at the weekend and check all’s OK. You go drink snaps, eat that Christmas smörgåsbord thing – what is it? Julbord? And tell Pettersson he’s lucky to have help from my stupid sister.’

  ‘I will.’ Hannah, whose mind had whirled with a mix of excitement and doubts all day, had relaxed, though she wasn’t sure she’d follow the advice about snaps. The fiery Swedish liquor was meant to help you digest but she generally preferred a nice glass of wine.

  Now her ears popped as the aircraft throttled back for its final descent. She glanced across the aisle to see Nico giving Maria a drink. He was a thoughtful dad. Probably because Sweden was a few hundred metres below her, Albin flashed into her mind. What kind of father would he have made? She could barely imagine. He’d had such a strangely distant relationship with his own parents he’d have no warm and loving example to follow. Would he have thought to give a toddler a drink so her swallowing would equalise the pressure in her ears?

  She couldn’t imagine that either.

  Turning back to the window to watch the airport rushing closer, snowy pine trees ranged behind its white-roofed buildings, she wondered again if she’d be able to grab time to whiz up to Stockholm and track Albin down. The funds he owed her still hadn’t arrived and now he wasn’t answering her phone calls except with brief texts like, Incredibly busy. It was as if he was enjoying playing telephone tag, awarding himself points for not responding adequately to messages or calls. The train took two and a half hours from Älgäng to Stockholm and she’d need another half hour to get from Stockholm Centralstation to Frihamnen where his office was. Building security was high but a hullaballoo in reception should force a reaction from him.

  She’d probably avoid Gamla Stan. It would upset her to see her lovely shop in its new guise as a sleazy ‘private club’. She shuddered.

  Then they were landing, bumping onto the runway, the engines roaring into reverse thrust. Josie turned and grinned, blue eyes dancing. ‘I feel as if Mr Invisible’s pulling me out of my seat.’ She called across the aisle. ‘Maria! Did that feel funny?’

  Maria laughed and dropped her cup to clap her hands. ‘Yeah! Funny, Yozee. Funny, Mydad.’

  Nico deftly caught the cup and grinned at Josie and Hannah. ‘Välkommen till Sverige.’

  ‘Tack, det är härligt att vara här igen,’ Hannah replied. Then she translated ‘Welco
me to Sweden’ and ‘Thanks, it’s good to be back’ for Josie. ‘Now you can say, “Tack, Pappa,” for “Thanks, Dad.”’

  ‘Dad taught me that,’ Josie cried. ‘Tack, Pappa. And if Farmor gives me a meal I say, Tack för maten.’

  Hannah congratulated her and they collected their things for the boring business of disembarkation. Clearing passports was slowed by the processing of Nico’s permission to travel with Maria. He answered questions easily and politely and Maria, clinging round his neck, demonstrated the warmth of their relationship by giving his cheek a big kiss with a loudly enthusiastic, ‘Mmmmwah!’

  The passport control officer almost smiled as she waved them through.

  Baggage reclaimed, Hannah entertained the girls by blowing white clouds into the bitingly cold air, pretending they were dragons while Nico picked up their rental car, trying to tune in to the rhythms of the Swedish being spoken around her. Eventually they were on the road to Älgäng. It looked as if Sweden was enjoying a really wintry winter. Snow made the roadside banks into marshmallow mounds and rivulets had frozen into icicles on vertical rock faces. The road cut through the whitened forest and the miles of fencing prevented elk from straying into the paths of cars.

  Although Lars’s house was in Nässjö, Nico drove first to the A6 shopping mall and bought the girls snowsuits. Maria’s was splashed with purple daisies to go with her purple boots. She giggled at the process of sliding her legs into it and looked at Nico questioningly. ‘Coat?’

  ‘Snowsuit,’ Nico said.

  Maria erupted in har, har, hars and did a little dance, as if to check her padded legs still worked OK. ‘Snowsuit, Yozee!’

  Josie rolled her eyes. ‘Mum got you one last winter, Maria. You grew out of it.’ But last winter was, obviously, almost half a lifetime ago to a two-year-old.

  They arrived at Nico’s mum’s small house in nearby Älgäng for a late lunch. Carina’s was a traditional Swedish house, rust-red and white, the changing pitch of its roof sitting on the building like a bonnet, its corner plot sheltered by towering pines. White lights and illuminated stars glowed from every window and along the verandah. A tomte with a grey hat and long white beard, the house gnome of Swedish folklore, guarded the door.

  Carina appeared as the car pulled into the drive between rough mounds of cleared snow. She was tall and her short hair was much darker than Nico’s. Her eyes were dark, too, sparkling as she bombarded her son and granddaughter with cuddles. Her English was more accented than Nico’s but still quick and idiomatic as she greeted Hannah warmly, welcoming her to Småland with a hug. Then she crouched down to Maria’s level. ‘Hej, stumpan.’

  Josie said, ‘Farmor, this is Maria. Maria, say hello to Farmor.’ She obviously didn’t see anything tricky about whether Maria was entitled to claim Carina as a grandma or, literally, ‘father mother’.

  Maria smiled shyly. ‘’Ullo, Farmor.’

  Indoors, Hannah helped Maria out of her coat while Nico asked for an update on Lars. Carina said, ‘I rang earlier and he’d passed a comfortable night so he’s fit for his tests this afternoon. You can see him tonight.’ She looked anxious and Hannah caught an interested look in Nico’s eyes at the slightly possessive way his mum talked about his dad.

  Then Nico’s brother Mattias arrived with his girlfriend Felicia. Maria looked unsure of yet more new people and grabbed Nico’s hand in both of hers as if staking a claim.

  Mattias was dark and slender, like his mother, Felicia smaller and still darker. She presented Nico with an almond caramel cake or toscakaka and Mattias assured Nico, ‘She’s generous and kind to everyone,’ as if making sure Nico knew he wasn’t getting special treatment.

  Nico merely hugged Felicia with a good-humoured: ‘You’re lucky she’s such a wonderful woman, Mattias. I’m glad to see you happy.’ Mattias returned a small smile.

  Hannah noticed that Nico asked Mattias about his work as assistant curator at the Husqvarna Museum and about their apartment in Huskvarna, which he hadn’t seen. Mattias didn’t respond with an invitation to visit but instead told Hannah about ‘Husqvarna’ being the brand and ‘Huskvarna’ the town. He was a dull old penny next to Nico’s golden sovereign glow.

  After their late lunch of open sandwiches and pepparkakor straight from the oven Josie gazed longingly outside. ‘We haven’t played in the snow yet and it’s almost dark.’

  It was three p.m. ‘Swedish winter days are short,’ Hannah explained. ‘I’ll take you out in the garden, if that’s OK with Farmor.’

  ‘Yes, please!’ Josie ran to find the new snowsuits and Maria trundled after with her usual cheerful willingness. Hannah made sure they had boots and gloves and then they stepped out into the garden where the snow was undisturbed but for the footprints of birds and animals. Light streamed through the house windows, suffusing the white, glistening garden in a magical glow.

  Josie sniffed in a huge breath and released it in a white cloud. ‘Mmm, it smells snowy.’

  Hannah sniffed too. ‘You’re right. Isn’t Farmor’s place pretty? It looks like a gingerbread house.’ Then she caught sight of Maria trying to eat snow with a mittened hand. Her snorts of laughter bubbled into the air as the two-year-old smeared the icy white crystals across her face.

  ‘Snowman!’ cried Josie, heaping snow against Maria’s back.

  Maria glared at Josie. ‘Nooo!’

  ‘Maybe not a snowsister,’ suggested Hannah, hastily. ‘Let’s make a proper snowman. It’s good squeaky snow so it should hold together.’ She began to roll up a ball of snow, which Maria immediately tried to kick.

  Then the back door opened and Nico jumped out, a plume of gleaming white flying into the air around him. ‘We’re making a snowman, Dad,’ Josie cried and Hannah let Josie and Nico take on the serious construction work while she made mounds of snow for Maria to kick.

  Eventually the snowman stood smartly to attention in a black furry hat Carina passed out through the door, with pebbles for eyes and a potato for a nose. Maria began to yawn and yank her mittens off, then cry because her hands were cold. ‘I think it’s time to get settled at Dad’s house,’ Nico said, swooping Maria into a warming cuddle.

  Carina and Mattias wrapped up well and came out to wave them off. While Nico was making arrangements with Mattias about seeing Lars that evening Hannah thanked Carina politely for lunch.

  Carina smiled but her eyes were on Nico. ‘He looks a little … thin,’ she said carefully.

  Hannah was whizzed back to when she’d seen Nico in Stockholm almost seven weeks ago and had suspected he was living on the streets. He’d improved since then but she didn’t think it would comfort his mother to share that thought. She answered, equally carefully. ‘I think he’s conscious of the need to eat properly and set a good example to the girls.’

  Carina flicked a glance at her as if wondering how much she knew. ‘He’s becoming attached to Maria.’

  Unexpectedly, Hannah felt herself bristling. ‘I think he’s done something worthwhile in earning her trust and affection when she seriously needs stability.’

  ‘Yes. But even a big heart can be broken.’ Carina sighed as she pulled a knitted hat out of her coat pocket and crammed it on against the frigid air. ‘Don’t you think he’ll be unhappy when Loren takes her back?’

  Hannah stared at the older woman. ‘You’re worried about that? I suppose I’ve looked at it from Maria’s point of view. I hadn’t thought about Nico getting hurt.’ She’d seen him as put-upon and kind … but not vulnerable.

  Carina smiled wistfully. ‘He’s my son. I know him well so of course I worry.’ Then she changed the subject. ‘Yesterday, I visited Lars’s house and changed the beds. It’s a small house but you’ll have a room of your own. I’ve made airbeds up for the girls in Nico’s room.’

  ‘That’s very kind. Thank you,’ Hannah answered mechanically, her thoughts still occupied with Nico’s feelings. Then he was gathering them up and ushering them out to the grey bulk of the rental car for the ten-minute journe
y to his dad’s house in Nässjö, deftly performing the routine fatherhood things like wrangling Maria into her car seat, answering Josie’s constant stream of questions at the same time as ensuring hats, mittens and scarves weren’t left behind.

  Maria took against her left boot and tried to lever it off, tiny eyebrows becoming curls of indignation. ‘No boot!’ she hollered, kicking violently.

  Nico screwed round from the driver’s seat and tickled her tummy through her snowsuit. ‘Yes boot! Or the snow monster will gobble up your toes.’

  As suddenly as the tantrum arrived, it vanished. Maria wrinkled her bobble nose to show him her white baby teeth and laughed.

  He’d been born with parenting superpowers, Hannah decided as Nico waved through the windscreen at his family and started the ignition. It was the only explanation.

  The road out of Älgäng to Lars’s house threaded through the pines. Posts with reflective discs denoted the road’s edges where snow had been ploughed into berms. As they drove into a town bedecked with tasteful white Christmas lights they passed a lake and Nico told them his childhood family home had been on the other shore. The lake was icy at the edges. ‘We used to skate on it,’ Nico reminisced.

  Then he swung the car uphill into an area of older homes and into a small drive. ‘Here’s Farfar’s house. Nice of him to let us stay here while he’s in hospital.’

  The house was slate grey and white with a rounded turret under a hat-like roof and, the way the snow had clad one side, looked slightly askew, drunk and beautiful like a bride on her hen night. A lady emerged from the next house, bundled in woollens and enormous boots, to talk earnest Swedish over the hedge to Nico. Hannah, letting Josie out and then scooping Maria from her car seat, caught most of what was being said. The neighbour had found Lars lying in the snow when she’d come out to her car. He couldn’t have been there long or he would surely not have survived. Nico clasped the woman’s hand and thanked her.

  The neighbour beamed at Hannah, Josie and Maria. ‘Such a lovely family!’