All She Wants for Christmas

by Annie Claydon

  She looked up at him. He looked impressed as well. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Can I take this away? I’d like to read it through again more closely.’

  Beth hesitated. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to give this to anyone at this stage, least of all someone whose opinion she cared about as much as Matt’s. ‘It’s really still in development.’

  ‘Understood. But this is enormously interesting as it stands.’ He passed the document back to her, as if to emphasise that it was hers and she had complete control over it. ‘Whenever you think it’s appropriate, but I’d be really eager to have a copy.’

  His praise was like standing under a cool waterfall on a sunny day. Little pinpricks of delight all over her body that made her shiver and grin like an idiot. Beth pushed the document back across the table towards him. ‘This is a spare copy, I ran it off this morning. Just in case.’

  He nodded, and took the wad of paper back, folding the pages of his pad carefully over it as if to protect it from harm. ‘Thank you. Can we get together again next week to discuss what you might need from us to carry out your study in Cardiology?’

  He was letting her in. And the grilling he’d given her had made it quite obvious that this wasn’t just a favour to an acquaintance. Beth wanted to punch the air and dispense hugs all round, but currently the only person in hugging range was on her personal ‘out of bounds’ list. ‘Yes, sure. I just hope that your confidence in me isn’t misplaced.’

  His long fingers caressed the pages of his notepad. ‘It’s not.’ His eye drifted to the pot of fresh coffee that Marcie had brought in for them while they’d talked and which had sat untouched on the table between them. ‘More coffee?’

  He filled her cup and the talk drifted. He seemed endlessly interested in almost everything about the study, wanting Beth to demonstrate the structure and syntax of BSL when she explained to him that it was quite different from that of English, and laughing when she showed him some visual puns.

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s one thing my deaf patients have in common with my hearing ones. They don’t always appreciate my feeble attempts at humour either.’ A thought struck him and his eyes darkened with mischief. ‘So can you swear in BSL?’

  ‘Why not? You can in any other language.’ Beth signed a strongly worded invitation to reconsider his attitudes, which got a surprising amount of angst off her chest and had Matt’s eyebrows shooting upwards.

  ‘Right. Okay, probably no translation needed. I got the gist of that.’ He flashed her a look of deep hurt, which melted into a smile. ‘Did you just shout at me?’

  He was getting the idea. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I think I probably deserved it.’ He processed the information for a moment. ‘So it’s not just a matter of straight translation, is it? It’s a different set of shared knowledge and ideas as well.’

  ‘Yes, that’s one of the things we mean when we talk about deaf culture.’ Beth was enjoying herself now. He’d worked his way round to an idea that many people missed, doing it almost effortlessly. ‘But you have to remember that most deaf people know the written language of their region and also the spoken one to varying degrees. Even if our first language is not English, it comes a very close second.’

  ‘I realise I’ve never asked. What is your first language—English or BSL?’

  ‘Both. My brothers and I grew up around signing and the spoken word together, so we all do both quite naturally. I never had that feeling that some people have that one is better or worse than the other—they’re just different. BSL is a beautiful language in many ways.’

  ‘So in your view one enriches the other.’ He was nodding slowly, getting his head around the concept. ‘Are both your brothers deaf?’

  ‘No. Nathan is but Charlie is hearing. I have a CI and Nathan doesn’t, but he does have more residual hearing than I do. So between us we’re a pretty mixed bunch.’

  ‘When did you get the CI?’

  ‘I got by with hearing aids and signing help at school, but when the hearing in my right ear started to fail I really struggled at university. So I made the decision to have the CI and once I’d adapted to it, it was a revelation to me—a whole new world.’

  ‘And the hearing you have in your left ear helps round the sound out?’

  Beth nodded. ‘Yes. I feel that I’m lucky. The CI worked well for me, which it doesn’t for everyone, and I think I have the best of both worlds now.’

  ‘That’s a nice way of putting it.’ He hesitated, as if he were choosing his words carefully. ‘Something you said the other day surprised me. When you spoke about your deafness being inherited from your father.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Does that bother you? You seemed…It seemed as if it did.’

  ‘No. Why would it?’ It didn’t bother Beth in the slightest. It just seemed to bother everyone else and from his question Matt was no exception.

  ‘No reason. I’m sorry if that was out of order.’ He was staring at her now and couldn’t have failed to notice that the temperature in the room had suddenly plummeted.

  Beth reached for her laptop, snapping it shut, and started to gather the papers in front of her into a pile. ‘Perhaps it’s time we joined the others.’ It had been a nice afternoon. She didn’t want to spoil it by talking about this.

  He hesitated and then rose slowly, picking up his pad. ‘Yeah, okay.’ He seemed about to ask something else, then thought better of it and let her lead the way out of the TV room.

  When Beth entered the kitchen, it was all warmth and commotion. James was pulling on his jacket, and Josh and Anna were climbing on chairs to indicate the required height of the Christmas tree that their father was about to fetch.

  Marcie looked up from the kitchen table, where she was showing Jack how to make gingerbread men. ‘Hey, you two. All finished?’

  ‘Just getting started.’ Matt seemed suddenly pleased with himself and shot Beth a thousand-watt grin. ‘What have you been up to, Jack?’

  It was perfectly obvious what Jack had been up to. The apron he was wearing seemed to have almost as much flour and golden syrup on it as had gone into the dough, rolled out on the table.

  ‘We’re making gingerbread men, Dad. When we’ve baked them you can have one.’

  ‘Oh, no, he can’t.’ Marcie stepped in briskly. ‘No eating them until they’re decorated.’

  Jack quickly amended the offer. ‘I’ll decorate one for you, then, Dad.’

  Matt’s face lit up. ‘Will you? I’d really like that.’

  ‘You could do an icing stethoscope for its neck.’ Beth winked at Jack.

  ‘Oh, yes! And green icing for scrubs.’ Marcie seemed more enthusiastic than even Jack was.

  ‘I’m going to do one of Beth as well.’ Jack was wielding the cookie cutter now and Marcie bent to guide his hand, and turn the dough figure out onto a baking tray.

  Matt chuckled softly. ‘Pink icing for her cheeks, then.’ The comment was so quiet that Jack didn’t seem to notice it, and Beth would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking at him.

  ‘Out! Out of my kitchen, you lot.’ Marcie’s voice rose commandingly above the hubbub. ‘Anna, come and help Jack and me with these. And, Josh, perhaps you’d like to go with your father.’

  Sensing that there was probably going to be something good to eat soon, Josh opted for the kitchen and James made a long-suffering face. ‘Looks like I’m on my own, then.’ He turned to Matt. ‘Unless you fancy stretching your legs.’

  ‘Yeah, why not? Where do you get your tree from?’

  ‘There’s a place a couple of miles down the road. Local garden centre.’ James looked at his watch. ‘They’re open until six on a Sunday so we’ve plenty of time. Beth, do you want one as well?’

  ‘Mmm, please. I’ll bring my car. You won’t get three into the SUV.’

  James chuckled. ‘I like to see a bit of pluck in a woman.’ He turned to Matt. ‘Last year we bought an extra one for the porch—just a little one. When Beth too
k off at a set of lights, it rolled out of the back of her car and I ran over it.’

  Matt snorted with laughter. Beth braced herself for the comment and it never came. But of course Pete, who maintained that the only thing worse than a woman driver was a woman driver who couldn’t hear when she crashed into something, wasn’t around.

  ‘What made you run it over, then?’ He gave James a querying look. ‘That’s what brakes are for, mate.’

  James threw back his head and laughed. ‘I’ll make a note of that for the next time I’m attacked by flying Christmas trees.’ He picked up a jumble of elastic tie-down straps from the floor by the kitchen door. ‘Think these will be enough?’

  Matt nodded, grinning. ‘Does this garden centre do lights as well?’

  ‘Yep, and decorations. Do you need some?’ James handed Matt the tie-down straps and rummaged in the kitchen drawer for his car keys.

  ‘Yeah, we don’t have any.’

  ‘What, none?’ Marcie was looking at Matt as if he had just admitted to robbing a bank.

  ‘Not one. My wife used to order a tree and it came complete with lights and decorations. After Christmas the company that supplied it came and took everything away.’ Matt was studying the floor.

  Beth wondered whether she should say something. She could hardly pretend she thought that a ready-decorated tree was a good idea, Marcie would never let her live it down. Luckily, the mention of Mariska seemed to herald a return to polite diplomacy on Marcie’s part. ‘Obviously a very well-organised lady. James, haven’t we got some spare lights?’

  ‘Yes, sweetheart, we have spare lights.’ James turned to Matt. ‘And if you’d take a set, then I’ll be forever in your debt as I won’t have to find somewhere to put them. What about that extra box of decorations that you never used last year, Marcie?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I’ll get them out.’ Marcie was in full flow now, and nothing was going to stop her, least of all any protest from Matt. ‘It’s just odds and ends, but if you get a few boxes of plain baubles, that’ll be plenty.’

  ‘If you’re sure….’ Matt turned to Jack. ‘Something extraspecial for the new house, eh, mate? We’ll start as we mean to go on.’

  Jack nodded vigorously and turned to Beth. ‘Will you help my dad pick it out because he might not know which one to get and I’m busy here?’ He indicated the gingerbread men that Marcie had been turning out onto the baking trays in front of him.

  ‘Of course I will. We’ll pick the one with the best top so that the fairy’s nice and secure.’ She stopped guiltily. ‘Have you got a fairy?’

  ‘You will have, as soon as we’re finished with these.’ Marcie winked at Beth. ‘Will you people stop getting in the way here, when we’ve got things to do?’

  It was seven o’clock before Jack climbed into his father’s car, clutching the fairy that Beth had helped him make from an old-fashioned peg, some cardboard and a large helping of tinsel and glitter spray. Matt and James had taken it in turns to fuss over securing the two remaining Christmas trees into Beth’s car, and Marcie had produced a tin full of newly decorated gingerbread men.

  Matt insisted that they drive to Beth’s cottage first, and carried her tree around the side of the house, propping it up next to the back door. Then they drove together to his house, and Matt hauled the second tree out of her car, pulling the seats back up into position and, much to Jack’s delight, slinging the tree over one shoulder before he carried it into the house.

  ‘Come in.’ It was not quite an order, but his tone was not without urgency. Beth looked at her watch.

  ‘Don’t you need to get Jack to bed soon?’

  ‘Not for a while. And you don’t suppose he’ll go to bed before this lot’s sorted, do you? Come in and have something to drink.’ He indicated the tin in Jack’s hands. ‘I believe there’s a gingerbread man with your name on it, too.’

  ‘Okay. Just for ten minutes.’ Beth didn’t want the day to end yet. The look on Jack’s face as he’d made his own Christmas decorations. The look on Matt’s as he’d watched him.

  Beth made the coffee, while Matt busied himself with the tree and the lights. By the time he had finished, Jack was already unpacking the box of decorations that Marcie had given them, sorting each one carefully according to size and colour.

  ‘What do you think?’ Matt stood back to assess his handiwork.

  ‘That’s fine.’ Beth had abandoned her coffee, in favour of hanging onto Jack’s arm to stop him from rushing over to the tree and starting to decorate it straight away.

  ‘Maybe up a bit at that side? Do you think the tree’s quite straight?’

  ‘I think it’s fine, and if you don’t let Jack at it soon he’s going to explode.’ Beth directed Jack’s attention to the ornaments that Matt had bought that afternoon. ‘Why don’t you put those on first, as they’re all gold? Then it’ll be easy to distribute all these different-coloured ones evenly.’

  Jack nodded, choosing a small, sparkly globe and hanging it on one of the lower branches of the tree. Matt bent and retrieved the ornament, and hung it close to the top. ‘You want the bigger ones at the bottom and the small ones near the top, don’t you?’

  Beth broke in. ‘Actually, I think it looks better where it was.’ She jumped to her feet, catching up two boxes of ornaments. ‘Here, you take these…’ she gave one box to Matt ‘…and Jack’s in charge of these.’ Matt wasn’t going to end up with a perfect, beautifully dressed tree like this. He’d get something much better.

  ‘Hmm. Yes, sorry, mate, Beth’s absolutely right you know. Looks far better where you put it.’ Matt retrieved the bauble from the top of the tree and put it back where Jack had hung it. ‘Just let me know if you want me to lift you up to reach any of those top branches.’

  Beth returned to the sofa and picked up her coffee mug. Just a few minutes to relax and then she’d be on her way.

  Half an hour later, the tree was almost finished. Jack had enlisted Beth’s help to hang some of his least favourite baubles around the back, where they wouldn’t be seen, and Matt had taken over her place on the sofa, watching them.

  ‘What do you say you and Beth put the fairy at the top together?’ Matt carefully lifted up the fairy from her resting place on the coffee table and brought her over to Jack.

  ‘Oh, no, you should do it. You have to make a wish.’ Beth backed away from the tree.

  ‘I’m all wished out.’ Matt lifted Jack up effortlessly and sat him on his shoulders. ‘Won’t you help him? You must have something to wish for.’

  Something immediately sprang to mind. Staying here, in the soft glow of the firelight, magic in the air and Matt at her side. Waiting while he put Jack to bed, looking forward to being alone with him, rather than just alone this Christmas. But her place was back home, in the quiet of her cottage. Not here.

  ‘I’ve got something. I’m going to wish that…’

  ‘No!’ Beth and Matt both silenced Jack in unison. ‘If you tell anyone what your wish is, it won’t come true,’ Beth explained.

  ‘Okay, then. But it’s something to do with…’ Jack fell silent as Beth pointed a stern finger at him.

  ‘You can’t even hint. You have to keep it to yourself.’

  ‘Are we ready, then? Jack, it’s a fairy, not a model plane. If you wave it around like that, you’ll get glitter all over Beth.’ Matt rolled his eyes, holding out a hand to steady Beth as she climbed the stepladder to help Jack.

  Carefully she guided Jack’s hand and fixed the fairy to the top of the tree. ‘There! Now, we’ll all close our eyes and make a wish.’

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut, wishing hard. Beth’s eyes met Matt’s and was caught in his liquid gaze. ‘Close your eyes.’ She whispered the words so quietly that she almost mouthed them at him. He had to have a wish. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if he didn’t.

  He closed his eyes just in time. He didn’t see her wipe the tear away as it dribbled from the side of her eye. And before he had a chance to open them again, s
he had hastened back down the ladder and turned away, so that she could no longer see what her heart desired most and which she knew she could never have.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BETH had only left the hearing therapy unit for five minutes, to run down to the canteen to fetch a drink. The receptionist was at lunch, Marcie was out doing home visits and Monday morning was always busy, so it was going to be lunch on the run again.

  As she hurried back along the corridor, making a mental list of everything she had to do before three o’ clock, she saw an unmistakable figure, leaning against the locked door of the unit.

  ‘Waiting for me?’

  ‘Nah. Just lost again.’ Matt grinned at her. That confiding grin, the one that turned her insides to jelly and made her legs shake. The one that convinced her that everything else she had to do could wait for ten precious minutes.

  ‘Well, you’ve come to the right person.’ She motioned him away from the door and unlocked it. ‘Come in and I’ll point you in the right direction.’

  He chuckled softly and followed her into the empty association area. Beth caught up a clean mug from the reception desk and tipped it towards him. ‘Here. Want half my coffee?’

  ‘If you can spare it.’ He sat down, loosening his tie, slipping suddenly from mouth-wateringly formal to meltingly casual.

  ‘I’ve only got time to drink half of it.’ Beth tipped more than half of her drink into the mug and handed it to him.

  ‘Thanks.’ He took a deep draught. ‘Just what I needed.’

  ‘Busy morning?’

  ‘Pretty much the same as yours, from the looks of it. I won’t stay, I’ve just come to give you this.’ He slid three typed pages across the table that lay between them. ‘Just some notes I made last night, after I put Jack to bed.’

  It was a great deal more than a few notes. Flipping through the pages, Beth saw an implementation timetable, noting dependencies and a critical path, and two closely typed sheets of suggestions and comments. ‘Wow. That’s great, Matt, thanks. You don’t mess about, do you?’

  His blue, thoughtful gaze was on her, trapping her in its depths. ‘I have every confidence that this study is going to benefit my department. So the answer to your question is no. I don’t intend to mess about.’