A Little Christmas Magic

by Alison Roberts

  Now she knew that Eileen was a loyal receptionist and that, behind the shield, Adam was a passionate and caring man. The most wonderful man she would ever meet in her life.

  But her smile vanished as soon as she stepped through the door.

  Caitlin had texted her to say that the children would be waiting at the clinic to be collected when she got back and Emma had assumed that Adam was too busy to take them home. Sure enough, the waiting room was packed and Oliver and Poppy were sitting in the corner, but Emma still knew that something was wrong.

  There was a basket of toys in the corner but the twins were simply sitting there very quietly, looking as though they were in some kind of trouble.

  Nobody else was talking either. Three women, one of whom she recognised as Moira, the Braeburn choir mistress, were intent on their knitting. Another rocked a pram that clearly contained a sleeping infant. Two men were invisible behind open newspapers.

  Emma swallowed hard. She smiled at Eileen. ‘I’ve just come to collect the children,’ she said.

  ‘Och, aye …’ Eileen sniffed. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’

  Was that the problem? Was she later than she’d said she’d be? The coffee with Jack had turned into lunch but he’d been so kind and she’d needed someone to talk to. Somehow it made the new joy in her life more real to talk about it but it had the downside of making her fears a lot bigger as well. She’d ended up crying but Jack had held her hand and listened. He’d focused on the good results of the first blood tests that had come through and reminded her of how well they’d predicted results of the bone-marrow tests in the past.

  But she’d said she’d be back by three p.m. and it was only a little later than that because it had started snowing again and the train journey had been slow. She’d gone to where the car was parked, too, to hide all her parcels so that the children wouldn’t guess she’d been shopping for them.

  ‘How was the rehearsal?’ Emma pasted another smile onto her face. ‘I’m so sorry I missed it. You’ll have to tell me all about it on the way home.’

  Oliver was staring at his hands. Poppy’s bottom lip wobbled as she looked up at Emma.

  ‘Daddy’s cross,’ she whispered.

  ‘Is he? Well … he’s awfully busy.’ Emma glanced around the waiting room. Of course Adam would be annoyed that she hadn’t been here to look after his children so he could do his job. That was what she’d been employed for, wasn’t it? Except she was more than an employee now, wasn’t she?

  A prickle ran down Emma’s spine. There was more to this than inconvenience. There was something heavy in the air. Something dark. Had somebody died maybe?

  The door to the consulting room flew open and someone wrapped in a heavy coat bustled out. There was a short silence and then Adam appeared in their wake.

  ‘Next,’ he barked.

  ‘That’s you, Moira,’ Eileen said in a stage whisper.

  The choir mistress got hurriedly to her feet, clutching her knitting, but the ball of wool escaped and rolled an impressively long way across the floor. She bent to pick it up but the wool caught on the buckle of her shoe.

  ‘Sorry, Doctor.’ She tugged at the wool. A knitting needle came loose and clattered to the floor but Adam wasn’t watching the progress of his next patient. His gaze had found Emma standing beside the children.

  Suddenly it wasn’t amusing to remember the first time she’d been here. Before Adam had known anything about her and had looked at her with a level of suspicion that had suggested she was the last person who might be suitable for looking after his precious children.

  That kind of look paled in comparison to the chilly determination with which he was regarding her now. There was no suspicion in this glare. No doubt. No hint of warmth either.

  ‘Take your time, Moira,’ he snapped. ‘Emma—could I have a word, please? It’ll only take a minute.’

  The last words were directed at the waiting room in general as Adam turned back to his consulting room. Or perhaps they had been intended to mollify Eileen. If so, it hadn’t worked. Moira clicked her tongue and shook her head, the wool snapping as she gave it a harder tug. Eileen’s eyes narrowed as she appeared to put two and two together and realise that Emma was somehow responsible for the doctor’s bad mood.

  This wasn’t fair. Okay, she’d been absent for a little over twenty-four hours but it was hardly the crime of the century, was it? It certainly wasn’t fair to make the children suffer and she’d never seen the twins look so miserable.

  And her painkillers had worn off. A deep ache in her hip made it almost impossible to walk without a limp but somehow she managed it, knowing how many sets of eyes were watching every move she made.

  ‘Shut the door, please,’ Adam said, as she went in. ‘Have a seat.’

  ‘I’m … okay.’ It was better to remain standing. Getting up from a chair might be painful enough to be difficult to hide.

  ‘As you wish.’

  He could have been speaking to a total stranger.

  No. It was worse than that. He sounded as though he hated her and you couldn’t hate someone you didn’t know, could you? Emma couldn’t stand this a moment longer.

  ‘What’s wrong, Adam? What have I done to upset you?’

  A soft snort of unamused laughter came from Adam, accompanied by a head shake that emphasised his incredulity.

  ‘I’m sorry if it’s been difficult. Was there a problem with the children while I wasn’t here or something?’

  He was staring at her and, just for a heartbeat, Emma saw the barrier slip. If she’d thought the children looked miserable, it was nothing compared to the pain she saw in that instant in Adam’s eyes. He looked … betrayed.

  ‘I know why you had to go to Edinburgh,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ Emma could actually feel the blood draining from her face.

  ‘I took a patient through to the infirmary this morning.’ Adam’s eyes didn’t leave hers. His tone was deceptively calm.

  Dangerous.

  ‘I saw you.’

  Oh … dear Lord … He did know why she’d been there. He was a doctor who was well known at that hospital. How hard would it have been to get someone to check records and find out what she’d been even so briefly admitted for?

  ‘I … I’m sorry, Adam. I should have told you the truth.’

  ‘Just what the hell did you think you were playing at, Emma? Did you give any thought at all to how this was going to play out down the track? How it might affect the children? Me?’

  When she died? Oh … help. She was going to cry. All she had wanted to do was offer her love.

  To be loved in return, for just a blink of time. To make her last Christmas the best one ever.

  How selfish had she been?

  But the stunning effect of Adam’s discovery was wearing off and guilt was getting overtaken by something else. Hurt. How cruel was this to be reminding her that she might not have much time left? To suggest that the effect on the McAllister family was worse than what she might have to face herself?

  And why were the children looking so upset?

  Emma’s inward breath was almost a gasp. ‘Have you told Ollie and Poppy?’

  ‘No.’ The word was a snap. ‘And I don’t want to.’

  Thank goodness for that. The children must have simply picked up on the atmosphere and then assumed—as children were so good at doing—that it was somehow their fault. That was cruel, too, if it wasn’t fixed. Emma would fix it as soon as she could.

  ‘What I do want,’ Adam continued, ‘is for you to leave Braeburn. As soon as possible. I realise that it may be too late today but there should be trains running tomorrow. I’ve booked a room at The Inn for you. That’s nice and close to the station.’

  ‘But tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.’

  ‘I’m aware of the date.’

  ‘I’m supposed to be helping with the school concert. The … the children’s nativity play.’

  ‘You can make some excuse. A family emerg
ency perhaps.’

  ‘And just … leave? Walk out and leave everybody to fill in the gap?’

  ‘We managed before you came, Emma.’ Adam was shuffling some papers on his desk now. ‘We’ll manage after you go.’

  He expected her to go now, didn’t he? To leave his office and then go home to pack and leave his house. She was being dismissed from her position as a nanny. From her position as his lover. Did he really have no intention of even talking about that?

  Okay. She could understand why the barriers had gone back up. He knew she had made an offer of something she might not be able to follow through on and he’d seen history repeating itself with a loss in the near future that would have a dreadful effect on the children. And on himself? That was bitter-sweet. He was telling her how much she meant to him even as he pushed her away.

  Maybe if it wasn’t Christmastime, this wouldn’t be happening like this. She’d been the one to force the celebration back into Adam’s life and now it must seem like she was about to break his heart in exactly the same way it had been broken three years ago, when he’d lost the love of his life and his children had lost their beloved mother.

  This was the first Christmas the children would be really celebrating at home and they were so excited about the play. About being the key characters of Joseph and Mary and—even more—about Jemima being part of the production. It had been her idea to include Jemima. Would that even happen if she wasn’t here?

  That did it. This might be all her fault but she wasn’t going to let everything be ruined.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  Adam looked up from his papers. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘No,’ Emma repeated. ‘I understand why you want me to go …’ Her voice wobbled. She couldn’t say anything about how upset she was at him ending what they’d had between them like this because if she went down that track, she’d lose all the courage she knew she needed. ‘But I’m not going to leave while I’m needed here. I can find somewhere else to stay but I promised Caitlin I’d be there to help with the singing and the play and … and I promised the children I’d be there.’ She lifted her chin and took a steadying breath so that she could sound totally in control. ‘I never break my promises.’

  Caitlin would put her up for a night or two. Or she could stay at The Inn if that wasn’t possible. She’d just have to dream up some reason for her absence to keep Poppy and Oliver as happy as possible.

  Adam was looking at his papers again. ‘Do what you need to,’ he growled. ‘I’ll cope.’

  Where had she heard those words before? Emma wondered, as she managed to find a smile for Oliver and Poppy as she led them out of the clinic.

  Oh, yes … That had been exactly what Adam had said when she’d asked for the time off to go to Edinburgh. When she’d lied to him about the job interview.

  ‘Is Daddy still cross?’ Poppy asked as Emma clipped the belt over her car seat.

  ‘No, sweetheart. And he was never cross with you.’

  ‘Who was he cross with, then?’ Oliver asked.

  Me, Emma thought. And she had brought it on herself with her deception. She took another one of those steadying breaths.

  ‘Sometimes grown-ups get cross because there’s too much to do and people need things that are hard to give them. Daddy has to help lots of people and sometimes it’s hard. Like when Mrs Jessop’s baby was so sick.’

  ‘But you help lots of people, too, and you don’t get cross.’

  Emma leaned in to kiss Poppy before she closed the door. In the time it took her to get to the driver’s seat, inspiration had struck.

  ‘Miss McMurray has an awful lot to do at the moment to get ready for your concert tomorrow. I know she doesn’t get cross very often but I’m going to go and help her to make sure she doesn’t. It might get very late so I’ll probably stay at her house.’

  ‘But you’ll come back, won’t you?’ Poppy sounded anxious. ‘It’s only two sleeps till Christmas.’

  ‘It is.’ Emma turned on the car’s lights and the windscreen wipers. ‘Oh … look at how hard it’s snowing. Isn’t that pretty?’

  Adam’s parting words replayed themselves like an echo in Emma’s head as she went through what had become such a joyous routine of caring for children and pets and trying to cook. She was getting better at it but it was a bonus to find one of Catherine’s casseroles hiding in the freezer when she went to find some frozen peas. It had been wedged behind the turkey.

  What had Catherine said about that? Didn’t it need to come out of the freezer two days before Christmas so that it had time to thaw? Emma lifted the heavy bird and put it in the scullery tub. Not that she’d be here to cook it and maybe that was for the best. There was no way Adam could avoid celebrating Christmas now, what with all the decorations all over the house and the tree there waiting for the gifts to appear. At least she’d given this little family that much. And Adam probably knew how to cook a turkey.

  As he’d said, he’d cope.

  The first time he’d said those words had been the turning point, hadn’t it? When Emma had decided that the real gift she could give Adam was hope. To show him what it could be like to let someone close. To be really happy again.

  Well, it had worked, hadn’t it?

  Too well.

  He’d accepted that gift and given his own in return. He’d shown her what it was like to be truly loved.

  And now he knew that it had been false hope that she had offered.

  But how could he be so sure? Did he know something that she didn’t know? Emma stood there in the scullery, staring at the frozen turkey without seeing it. Had accessing her medical records somehow given him information that Jack had been unwilling to give her so close to Christmas?

  A lightning bolt unleashed itself from the dark cloud that was pressing ever closer. If only she hadn’t agreed to have the test so soon she could have kept it at bay for just a little longer.

  There was no way to push it back now. All she could do was honour the promises she had made and then find somewhere she could gather strength to deal with the storm when it finally broke.

  California maybe?

  She was gone.

  This time, the silence of the house had an almost ominous edge. It wasn’t just an overnight absence. Emma was gone from his house and after tomorrow she would be gone from his life as well.

  Adam had been late home after going to check that Jock was coping back on the farm and the children were already tucked up in bed and asleep. Emma’s bag had been sitting beside her guitar case near the clock and within minutes of his arrival Caitlin McMurray had driven up to collect her. His dinner was keeping warm in the stove, she’d told him. The turkey was thawing in the scullery tub and she’d left some gifts under the Christmas tree and hoped that would be okay. And she’d said that she was sorry … so very sorry …

  Too weary to feel hungry, Adam sat on a chair at the kitchen table beneath all those rainbow-coloured paper chains and downed the last shot his whisky bottle had to offer. The emotional roller-coaster of his day had left him drained enough to feel numb.

  Or maybe not completely numb. There was pain to be found that had to be coming from the broken shards of that glass bubble of hope. And pain was a close neighbour to anger. Easy to step over the boundary and preferable to direct the anger towards someone else. He’d used this method of defence before but he knew it came with some fine print. It was only a matter of time before the anger turned inwards and became a sense of failure. He hadn’t been enough as a husband.

  He hadn’t even been enough as a lover this time around.

  Was he enough as a doctor? Joan McClintock probably thought so by now, as she lay in the cardiology ward of the infirmary, recovering from her angioplasty. And Old Jock definitely did. He’d said as much when Adam had taken the groceries that Eileen had put together and gone up the hill to visit him. He could swear there had been tears in the old man’s eyes when Jock had gripped his arm in farewell.

  �
�You and that wee lassie saved my life, son. I might not be up to playing my pipes tomorrow but I’ll be back on deck next year, you wait and see.’

  The Jessops would be spending a quiet Christmas in the neonatal intensive care unit but it would be a celebration because they’d be able to hold their precious new baby and talk about the day in the not-too-distant future when they’d be able to take her home. She’d need careful monitoring for her first years of life but it would be a joy to be responsible for that.

  Yes. Adam could take comfort in knowing that he was enough of a doctor for this village. That he was deeply woven into the community fabric and he was needed here.

  Was he enough as a father?

  With a heavy tread and two unusually subdued dogs, Adam climbed the staircase of his old family home and went to check on his sleeping children. Oliver lay sprawled on his back at an angle that had his head almost touching the wheels of the train engine tucked in the corner beside his pillow. Adam gently moved the toy as he bent to kiss his son.

  Poppy was rolled into a ball and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. She had her Gran’s old teddy clutched in her arms.

  ‘Are you awake, sweetheart?’ Adam whispered.

  She must be dreaming, he decided when he got no response. He pulled the duvet up to cover her back and kissed the top of her head.

  ‘Sleep tight,’ he murmured. ‘Love you.’

  The hallway outside the children’s rooms was quiet and still. The half-open door of the empty guest room further down was eloquent enough to be an accusation. There would be no music coming from that room again. No small, fairy-like woman would emerge with joy in her eyes and laughter just waiting to bubble free. With hands and lips and a body that could make a man feel like … like he was, well, more than enough.

  Maybe it would help to shut the door.

  Adam wasn’t sure why he flicked the light on. Perhaps because it seemed suddenly beyond belief that Emma had really gone?