by Karin Baine
‘I was asked to cover at the last minute...and I thought...’ He was standing in the middle of the aisle, creating a bit of a spectacle as he blustered around her, attempting to squeeze his carry-on luggage in the overhead locker as the cabin crew tried to chivvy him to his seat.
‘What? That this would make a good surprise?’ If he was any good at reading body language, her folded arms and scowl should have told him otherwise. The fact that he’d chosen to play out this painful reunion in front of passengers and colleagues made matters worse. The one saving grace was that everyone else was so caught up in their own excitement the general ruckus on the plane should be drowning out this awkward conversation.
He ought to be on his knees again, begging her for forgiveness this time.
‘Doctor, I really need you to take your seat as quickly as possible so we don’t miss our flight slot.’ The flight attendant flashed a warning through her too-bright, teeth-baring smile as she slammed the locker shut and ushered him to the seat in front of Freya’s.
She gulped in a deep breath as he turned away from her and released her from the hypnotic trance of those too-easy-to-get-lost-in blue eyes. These months of tears and heartbreak hadn’t managed to eradicate the strongest of all the emotions she felt for Lucas—love—and she hated herself for it as much as she wanted to hate him. She’d never asked for their relationship to end and it seemed her feelings hadn’t diminished any over time. If she’d stopped loving him at any point during their separation it wouldn’t hurt so much to see him again and be reminded of everything she’d lost.
This weekend was going to test her personally as well as professionally and turn her into a prisoner of her own emotions because absolutely nothing was going to spoil the magic for these children. Not even the unresolved issues of her marriage breakdown.
* * *
Lucas collapsed into his seat, the sight of Freya after all this time hitting him with the unexpected force of a runaway sleigh, even though he’d known she’d be here.
‘Your seat belt, sir.’ He was admonished by another member of the cabin crew as they completed their safety checks and waited with increasing agitation for him to buckle up.
‘Sorry. So sorry.’ He wanted to stamp the word in bold black ink on his forehead so Freya could see it too because he was seemingly incapable of vocalising his regret for the way he’d left things between them now they were face-to-face.
It had been nearly a year since they’d last seen each other, yet her obvious pain, and his shameful guilt, felt as fresh as if they’d only just broken up.
When he’d realised her name was on the staff list he’d had second thoughts about volunteering for this position, knowing a confrontation was inevitable. After all, she’d loved him every bit as much as he’d loved her before he’d abruptly ended their marriage. In the end, he’d realised he had to man up and face her so they could both have closure on that very difficult time in their lives. It wasn’t going to be easy to initiate a conversation about the possibility of divorce but a legal end to their relationship was the next logical step if she was ever going to be truly free of him and have the fresh start she deserved. He’d intended to broach the subject with her at some point on this trip when they could talk more freely and once she’d got used to the idea of seeing him again.
Except when he’d been planning his return to the world, he hadn’t filtered any residual emotions into the equation.
The sight of her again had unexpectedly choked him up, reminding him in that instant of everything he’d lost to his illness. It was his friend Peter who’d salvaged his career and liaised with the hospital during his sick leave but, ashamed of his weakness, he’d begged Peter not to reveal anything to Freya.
He’d had to jump through hoops with the hospital board to prove he’d recovered and get his job back, with numerous meetings and assessments with occupational health and the GMC before he’d been deemed fit enough to work. His colleagues and the senior consultants had supported his return, and now he was building up his hours at the hospital again, he’d managed to resurrect his career, but he’d known he’d never be able to win his wife back.
Seeing her again only increased that ache in his chest and suggested he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet even when setting her free for good was the best thing he could do for her. So much time had passed he’d imagined they would both be glad to escape any ties to one another and he hadn’t been prepared for the reaction of either of them upon seeing each other again.
His kind and gentle wife looked as though she wanted to physically hurt him. He’d always been able to read her because she never made any attempt to hide her feelings. Unlike him, who’d kept his secrets and emotions bottled up until he’d imploded from the stress of holding it all back and destroyed everything he’d ever loved.
Those almond-shaped eyes had flashed with wild fire when they’d lit upon him, full of anger and hurt. Arms folded as she’d confronted him, there’d been a hardness to her he’d never encountered before. Lucas wasn’t naive or egotistical enough to have expected she’d welcome him with open arms but part of Freya’s charm had always been her warm personality. It was a shock to the system to see her changed so much and it made him realise how much time had passed between them. It also made him question how much of that change was down to him.
In his mixed-up head he’d believed that by leaving her he was doing what was best, so he didn’t drag her into that dark pit of despair with him. When his conscience did prick at the thought of her tear-stained face staring after him, he’d convinced himself she would’ve found someone else to replace him by now. That somehow leaving had been a selfless act on his part and she’d be cosied up with another man, planning the family she’d always wanted and he hadn’t been convinced he could give her.
The reality was very different, of course, and made him see his actions through her eyes for the first time since he’d turned his back and left her to deal with the fallout alone. They’d been so in love but he’d shut her out to the point of ignoring her pain in favour of his own.
Even without her clipped tone and abrupt manner with him, Lucas could see the distress he’d caused in her defensive body language and it broke his heart. With the clarity of his recovery it was obvious now that walking away hadn’t been the answer; he’d only caused them both further agony. At the time what had been left of his pride had decreed that he protect his new wife from the responsibility of knowing about his childhood and subsequent illness. It hadn’t been her job to fix him. He’d had to fix himself. Now he was realising the extent of what that decision had cost him and Freya.
The plane rumbled down the runway and he instinctively reached back to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. He knew how much she hated this part of the flight.
‘Are you okay?’ He peered around the back of his seat to see her sitting bolt upright, her eyes wide with fear.
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped, and snatched away from his grip as though she’d been burned.
On their honeymoon she’d dug her nails so deeply into the armrest he’d thought she’d never let go as he’d tried to prise her off again, but she was letting him know now without doubt he’d given up that right to touch or comfort her any more. She was his wife in name only now and that was entirely his fault.
The tension in her body and her instant recoil was a stark contrast to the effect he used to have on her. That slightest touch brought back the torturous sights and sounds of their honeymoon and beyond, when she’d once melted beneath his touch. They’d been happy for a time, in love and in lust, and he wished it had never come to this when she’d rather suffer a panic attack alone than accept his help.
There was a long way to go to get her to hear him out and he had the distinct impression that if it wasn’t for the people surrounding them she would tell him exactly what she thought of him without stopping for breath. There was a long list of his
failings but he’d never been as aware of them as he was now when his sweet wife could barely control the rage she felt towards him. If he thought it would give either of them any satisfaction, or in any way make up for how he’d treated her, he’d offer himself up as a punch bag right now.
He mightn’t have thought this through properly but he remained hopeful this weekend would provide an opportunity for him to explain himself and smooth the way for a talk about the next step. That was all he could ask and yet it was more than he probably deserved from her.
He listened to the oohs and aahs of the children as the plane soared upward and the city lights blazing through the dark morning gradually disappeared beneath the clouds. The minute they reached cruising height and the seat-belt light went out, the plane became a hive of activity again as people left their seats.
‘So, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, who’s looking forward to meeting Santa Claus?’ The intercom crackled with the enthusiastic tone of a non-crew member and a quick glance confirmed it was the other elf he’d seen on board. Freya was on her feet too but she was handing out sheets of paper to the whooping passengers.
‘We thought we’d get everybody warmed up with a few Christmas carols, so elf Freya is handing out some song sheets to everyone. If anyone wants to come up and sing a song or tell a joke while we wait, you’re very welcome.’
Lucas managed to block out the tones of tuneless childish warbling and recycled jokes because his attention was totally focused on Freya as she made her way through the cabin. That bright smile shone for everyone she spoke to and he held his breath, waiting for his turn; to feel her warmth upon him once again. Of course, it didn’t happen. When she reached him the light dimmed in her eyes and the smile faltered.
‘You’re looking well, Freya.’ It was the best he could come up with to fill the awkwardness of the moment but he meant every word of it. The passing of time hadn’t diminished her beauty, or the effect it had on him. He still felt like the luckiest man in the world that she’d ever agreed to be his wife, and the stupidest for letting her go.
She turned to move on without saying a word but it had been so long since they’d been this close he couldn’t help himself trying to prolong the moment.
‘You’ve cut your hair.’ The short, messy bob suited her fine features but he’d always loved her long chestnut-brown hair.
‘I needed a change,’ she said flatly, suggesting again there’d been more than physical alterations occurring in his absence.
His stomach rolled at the thought he’d been the cause of that sudden edginess to her when she’d always been such a bubbly, loving individual and his actions had hardened her heart the way his father’s self-destructive behaviour had his. He knew what a long, painful process it was to get over that kind of damage and what it cost along the way. Not something he would ever have wished for Freya to go through, and exactly the reason he’d walked away in the first place.
‘I am sorry. For everything.’ Characteristically, he’d remained in denial until crisis point, when he’d been forced to witness the emotional effects of the damage he’d caused first-hand. While he had no desire to embarrass her in front of anyone here, it would be remiss of him not to acknowledge the wrong he’d done her, and if she chose not to speak to him after this flight at least he would know he’d made the apology and meant it.
‘Perhaps you’d give us a song, Doctor? I’m sure the children would love it.’ There was that smile again but there was no trace of friendliness in the way she’d bunched up the leftover song sheets in her fist. She was rejecting the apology as obviously as she could without drawing attention from the others because she would know taking part was the last thing he’d want to do.
Their marriage might’ve been short-lived but they’d been together long enough for Freya to know that this Christmas merriment was out of Lucas’s comfort zone. Her enthusiasm for the season had been difficult to live with when he’d hated everything about it. The over-the-top glitter and expense was always a reminder of the childhood he’d been denied and the only reason he’d agreed to step in before he knew Freya was involved had been to ensure these kids had the happy memories he didn’t.
‘I...er...have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.’ It wasn’t a complete lie. As the emergency replacement for the usual medical coordinator, he’d been handed the itinerary at the last minute. Although he’d done his best to get acquainted with the case notes of the children who’d be under his care so there wasn’t any room for error and he was fully prepared for any eventuality. Not that anything could’ve prepared him for this tense exchange but he deserved every bit of the hard time she was giving him.
‘Well, don’t let me take up any more of your time.’ She made a move to leave but there was such resignation in her tone he didn’t want her to think he’d ever dismissed her, or everything they’d ever had, as easily as it may have seemed.
He reached out to touch her arm but she flinched away from him again as though he’d given her an electric shock. A reminder of those early days when they’d been avoiding their growing attraction in the workplace, where every brush against each other had held so much meaning. The most obvious difference now was that she wasn’t looking at him with undisguised desire, more like murderous intent.
‘Don’t be like this, Freya. I really am sorry...’ If he’d been in her shoes he knew he’d probably never be able to forgive him either, but how could they ever resolve matters if she refused to be anywhere near him? Expecting a truce here was a big ask but eventually she might accept he was trying to make the best out of a bad situation. Perhaps a divorce would get that anger at him out of her system once and for all.
‘If you’ll excuse me, we have a very busy schedule ahead of us today and I wouldn’t want to let people down.’ Freya cut off his attempt to apologise again and put some distance between them, leaving the scent of cinnamon and peppermint lingering in her wake. She launched into the first rendition of an old Christmas classic, encouraging everyone else to join in and handing out percussion instruments to the youngest members of the party.
To everyone else sitting on this plane Freya was the life and soul of the party, bringing festive cheer to those who needed it most, but Lucas could see the brave face she was trying to put on. She refused to make eye contact with him again for the duration of the fun and games on board to pass the time for the children and he knew that determination not to let them down was because she’d been there. She’d been on the receiving end of bitter disappointment and broken dreams and it was all down to him.
His journey to recovery had come at Freya’s expense and he couldn’t fully move on from the past when it wasn’t only his father who’d left a legacy of unhappiness behind. Unlike the man who’d made his life hell, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to fix things. Although he hadn’t been able to provide Freya with the husband and family she needed or deserved, there was one thing he could give her that might go some way to making up for his behaviour. An explanation.
It wasn’t going to be easy to open up about the demons that had driven him away or to get her to speak to him long enough to do so, but he owed it to her to try. Perhaps this visit to Father Christmas could give them both the gift they needed most—peace of mind.
CHAPTER TWO
‘YOU LOOK LOVELY and cosy in there.’ Freya was helping to dress the two little girls she’d been assigned for the duration of the trip in the ski gear and snow boots which had been waiting for the group at the other end of the flight.
It was daylight now and the quick peek they’d had from the plane at the snowy landscape had made them all keen to get out and explore but the subzero temperature meant they needed to be suitably dressed before they could venture outside. With the nature of the conditions a lot of the children were suffering it was doubly important they were all wrapped up against the elements.
> Freya had changed out of her elf outfit and into her more suitable snowflake-adorned sweater and warm trousers before they’d left the airport. Even trussed up like the Abominable Snowman in this lurid pink ski suit she felt more comfortable; zipped in and covered up and hopefully protected from the penetrating stare of her ex-husband.
It had never entered her head that she would be forced to face him on this trip but she’d been even more disturbed by the flutter of her pulse every time he looked at her. Something that had happened all too frequently during the flight for her comfort. She felt his eyes burning into the back of her head now, watching her with the intensity of a man who had something he needed to get off his chest. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it. Whether he wanted to salve his conscience and finally unload the reason behind his mysterious disappearance, or he was eventually attempting to claim back half of everything that was rightfully his, she wasn’t going to do this in front of an audience.
Freya had been over every imaginable scenario in her head since he’d left her—from another woman to some sort of post-wedding jitters that had seen him running for the hills. In the end, it boiled down to the same thing—Lucas hadn’t wanted to be with her any more and no amount of talking now could repair her shattered heart. Despite the thermal layers of clothes she couldn’t help but shiver every time she thought of him reaching out to take her hand on take-off. The part of her that, apparently, hadn’t endured enough humiliation wanted to believe it was more than some residual body memory making him reach out to reassure her. That, irrespective of everything, he still cared about her the way she obviously still cared for him. The wounded Freya, still recovering from her injuries, reminded her it wasn’t possible given the way they’d parted and it wasn’t healthy to hold out any hope otherwise. Such a weakness in her armour left her vulnerable to another attack on her heart.
‘Where did my fingers go?’ Five-year-old Hope waved her hand at Freya and pulled her back into the present fantasyland. She was one of several here with type one diabetes, which meant constant monitoring of her blood-sugar levels, to avoid highs and lows, and her activity levels. It left no room for daydreaming paediatric nurses.
