The quilts were rich and thick, and each square was surrounded by frayed edges of fabric and padding. Aksel ran his fingers across the surface of one and smiled. ‘This will do her very nicely. Do you have something a bit more colourful? Mette can see strong colours better.’
‘That pile, up there.’ Mary didn’t even move, and Aksel lifted the quilts down from the shelf. Flora rose, unfolding some of the quilts.
‘This one’s beautiful, Mary!’ The quilt had twelve square sections, each one appliquéd with flowers. Mary beamed.
‘I made that one myself. It’s a calendar quilt...’
Flora could see now that the flowers in each square corresponded to a month in the year. December was a group of Christmas trees on snowy white ground, the dark blue sky scattered with stars.
‘Not really what you’re looking for.’ Mary tugged at a raw-edged quilt that was made from fabrics in a variety of reds and greens. ‘How about this one?’
Aksel nodded, turning to Flora. ‘What do you think.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘Very much.’ He ran his fingers over the quilt, smiling. ‘I’ll take this one.’
‘I have more to show you.’ Mary liked her customers to see her full stock before making any decisions, but Aksel’s smile and the quick shake of his head convinced her that, in this instance, they didn’t need to go through that process.
‘I like this one, too.’ He turned his attention back to the calendar quilt, examining the different squares. ‘These are all Scottish plants and flowers?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I design my quilts to reflect what I see around me. But this one doesn’t have the texture that your daughter might like.’
‘It would be something to remind us of our trip to Scotland. Perhaps I could hang it on the wall in her room. May I take this one too?’
‘No, you may not.’ Mary put her hands on her hips. ‘My quilts are made with love, and that’s why they’ll keep you warm. They are not supposed to be hung on the wall.’
‘If I were to promise to keep it in my sitting room? Something to wrap Mette in on cold winter nights and remind us both of the warm welcome we’ve had here. The raw-edged one will stay on her bed.’ Aksel gave Mary an imploring look and she capitulated suddenly.
‘That would be quite fine. You’re sure you want both?’
Aksel nodded. If Mary could be an unstoppable force at times, she at least knew when she’d come into contact with an immovable object. Something had to give, and she did so cheerfully.
‘You’ll give this one to your daughter as a present?’ She started to fold the raw-edged quilt.
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve got some pretty paper in the back that’ll do very nicely. I’ll just slip it into the bag and you can do the wrapping yourself.’ Mary bustled through a door behind the counter, leaving them alone.
‘You’re sure?’ Flora ran her hand over the quilts. They were both lovely, but this was a big expense, and she was feeling a little guilty for suggesting it.
‘I’m sure. I’ll have a whole house to furnish back in Norway, and these will help make it a home for Mette.’
‘You don’t have a place there already?’
‘I’ve never been in one place long enough to consider buying a house. Mette and I have been staying with Olaf and Agnetha—their house is familiar to her and they have more than enough room. I’ve bought a house close by so that we can visit often.’
Flora wanted to hug him. He’d been through a lot, and he was trying so hard to make a success of the new role he’d taken on in life. She watched as Mary reappeared, bearing a large carrier bag for Aksel and taking the card that he produced from his wallet.
They stepped outside into the pale sunshine and started to walk back towards Flora’s car.
‘I’ll give the quilt to Mette tomorrow when you’re at the clinic. Will you come and help me?’
‘No! It’s your present. Aren’t you going to see her this afternoon?’ Flora would have loved to see Mette’s face when she opened the quilt, but this was Aksel’s moment.
‘Yes. I just thought...’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe it would be more special to her if you were there.’
‘It’s your present. And you’re her father. She can show it to me when I come and visit.’ Flora frowned. ‘You really haven’t had that much time alone with her, have you?’
Aksel cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘Almost none. I relied a lot more heavily on Olaf and Agnetha to help me than I realised.’
‘And how is Mette ever going to feel safe and secure with you if you can’t even give her a present on your own? You’ve got to get over this feeling that you’re not enough for her, Aksel.’ Maybe that was a little too direct. But Aksel always seemed to appreciate her candour.
‘Point taken. In that case, I don’t suppose you have a roll of sticky tape you could lend me?’
‘Yes, I have several. You can never have too much sticky tape this close to Christmas.’
He chuckled quietly. ‘You’d be happy to celebrate Christmas once a month, wouldn’t you?’
Flora thought for a moment. The idea was tempting. ‘Christmas is special, and once a year is just fine. It gives me loads of time to look forward to it.’
‘There’s that. I’m looking forward to my first Christmas with Mette.’
‘You’re not panicking yet?’
‘I’m panicking. I just disguise it well.’
Flora grinned up at him. ‘It’ll be fine. Better than fine, it’ll be brilliant. Christmas at the castle is always lovely.’
‘Just your kind of place, then.’
Yes, it was. Cluchlochry was home, and her work at the clinic was stimulating and rewarding. Flora had almost managed to convince herself that she had everything that she wanted. Until Aksel had come along...
She felt in her pocket for her car keys, watching as Aksel stowed the quilts in the back seat with the rest of their shopping. She’d found peace here. An out-of-the-way shelter from the harsh truths of life, where she could ignore the fact that she sometimes felt she was only half living. And Aksel was threatening to destroy that peace and plunge her into a maelstrom of what-ifs and maybes. She wouldn’t let him.
* * *
Aksel had spent a restless night just a few metres away from her. Even the thick stone wall between Flora’s bedroom and his couldn’t dull the feeling that anytime now she might burst through, bringing light and laughter. He imagined her in red pyjamas with red lips. And, despite himself, he imagined her out of those red pyjamas as well.
He set out before dawn with Kari, walking to the canine therapy centre, which was situated in the grounds of the Heatherglen Castle Estate. As they trekked past the clinic, Aksel imagined Mette, stirring sleepily under her quilt. She’d loved it, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him. Each kiss from his little girl was still special, and every time he thought about it, his fingers moved involuntarily to his cheek, feeling the tingle of pleasure.
Esme Ross-Wylde was already in her office, and took him to meet his new charges, dogs of all kinds that were being trained as PAT dogs. For the next few weeks Aksel would be helping Esme out with some of the veterinary duties, and he busied himself reading up on the notes for each dog.
A commotion of barking and voices just before nine o’clock heralded Flora’s arrival with Dougal, and Aksel resisted the temptation to walk out of the surgery and say hello. There was a moment of relative peace and then Esme appeared, holding Dougal’s lead tightly.
‘Flora tells me that Kari’s made friends with this wee whirlwind.’ She nodded down at Dougal, raising her eyebrows when, on Aksel’s command, Kari rose from her corner and trotted over to Dougal. The little dog calmed immediately.
‘Yes. He just needs plenty of attention at the moment.’
‘I don’t suppose you could take him for a
while, could you? Give everyone else a bit of peace? He’s a great asset when it comes to teaching the dogs to ignore other dogs, but he’s getting in the way a bit at the moment.’
Aksel nodded and Esme smiled. ‘Thanks. You know that Flora works at the clinic...?’ The question seemed to carry with it an ulterior motive.
‘Yes, she came to introduce herself on Saturday, and she’s been helping me settle in. We went shopping for Mette yesterday.’
Esme chuckled. ‘Shopping’s one of Flora’s greatest talents. Along with physiotherapy, of course.’
‘We found everything that we needed.’ The idea that yesterday hadn’t been particularly special or much out of the ordinary for Flora was suddenly disappointing. It had been special to him, and the look on Mette’s face when he’d helped her unwrap her new quilt had been more precious than anything.
‘I’ve no need to make any introductions, then. I’ve been talking to the manager of a sheltered housing complex near here—her name’s Eileen Ross. We’re looking at setting up a dog visiting scheme there and I thought that might be something I could hand over to you. Flora visits every week for a physiotherapy clinic, maybe you could go along with her tomorrow and see how the place operates.’
‘I’d be very happy to take that on. I’ve seen a number of these schemes before, and I know that the elderly benefit a great deal from contact with animals.’ The tingle of excitement that ran down his spine wasn’t solely at the thought of the medical benefits of the visit.
‘So I can put this on the ever-growing list of things that you’ll take responsibility for while you’re here?’
Aksel nodded. He wasn’t aware of such a list and wondered whether it was all in Esme’s head. She ran a tight ship here at the centre, and he’d already realised that she was committed to exploring new possibilities whenever she could.
‘Leave it with me. I’ll have a report for you next week.’
‘Marvellous. I’ll give Flora a call and let her know that’s what we’re planning. Is an eight-thirty start all right for you?’
‘That’s fine. Is the sheltered housing complex within walking distance from Cluchlochry?’
Esme chuckled. ‘It depends what you call walking distance. I doubt Flora would think so. You don’t have a car?’
‘No.’
‘We have an old SUV that you can use while you’re here. It’s a bit bashed around and it needs a good clean, but it’ll get you from A to B.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind. I’ll pick it up in the morning if that’s okay.’
‘Yes, that’s fine. I’ll leave the keys at Reception for you.’
CHAPTER FIVE
FLORA HAD ALLOWED herself to believe that going to Mette’s room at lunchtime, when she knew Aksel would be there, was just a matter of confirming their visit to the sheltered housing complex tomorrow morning. But when she found him carefully threading Mette’s fingers into a pair of red and white woollen gloves, the matter slipped her mind. The two of them were obviously planning on going somewhere as Mette was bundled up in a red coat and a hat that matched her gloves, and Aksel had on a weatherproof jacket.
‘Hi, Mette.’ Flora concentrated on the little girl, giving Aksel a brief smile, before she bent down towards Mette, close enough that she could see her. ‘You look nice and warm. Are you going somewhere?’
Mette replied in Norwegian. Her English was good enough to communicate with all the staff here, but sometimes she forgot when she needed to use it.
‘English, Mette.’ Aksel gave his daughter a fond smile. If there had ever been any doubt about his commitment to the little girl, it was all there in his eyes. ‘We’re going on an expedition.’
‘Papa says there’s a river, and we have to jump across it.’ Mette volunteered the information, and Flora felt a tingle run down her spine at the thought of the trickle of water, and how she’d crossed it in Aksel’s arms.
Aksel flashed her a grin. ‘Dr Sinclair thought that your idea was a good one.’
Okay. Flora wondered whether Aksel had shared her other ideas, and hoped that Lyle wouldn’t think she’d been interfering. She’d just been trying to help...
‘Don’t look so alarmed. I told him that I’d asked you for some ideas and that you’d been very kind.’ He smiled.
Fair enough. It was disconcerting that he’d been able to gauge her thoughts so easily from her reaction, and she wished that he’d do as everyone else did, and wait for her to voice them. But Aksel was nothing if not honest, and it was probably beyond him not to say what was on his mind.
Before she could think of a suitable answer, Lyle Sinclair appeared in the doorway, holding a flask and a large box of sandwiches. The kitchen staff never missed an opportunity to feed anyone up, and it appeared that Aksel was already on their culinary radar.
‘Hello, Mette. You’re off to explore with your dad, are you?’ He put the sandwiches down and bent towards the little girl, who looked up at him and nodded. Lyle looked around, as if wholly satisfied with the arrangement.
‘Are you going too, Flora?’
‘Um... No. Probably best to leave them to it.’ This was something that Aksel and Mette needed to do alone. And any reminder of the almost-kissing-him incident was to be avoided.
‘Yes, of course.’ Lyle beamed at her. His quiet, gentle manner was more ebullient than usual, and Flora suspected that had a great deal to do with Cass Bellow’s return from the States.
‘How is Cass? I haven’t seen her yet.’
‘She’s fine.’ Lyle seemed to light up at the mention of her name. ‘A little achy still, she was hoping you might have some time to see her in the next couple of days.’
‘How about tomorrow afternoon? Would you like me to give her a call?’
‘No, that’s fine, I’ll let her know and get her to call you and arrange a time. In the meantime, I won’t keep you. I’ll see you later, Mette.’ Lyle touched Mette’s hand in farewell and swept back out of the room.
‘What’s going on there?’ Aksel had been watching quietly.
‘Just a little romance. Actually, quite a lot of it, from what I’ve heard.’ Flora liked Cass a lot, and she was happy for Lyle.
‘That’s nice.’ Aksel’s face showed no emotion as he turned his attention back to Mette’s gloves, picking up the one she’d discarded on the floor. Clearly he was about as impressed with the idea of romance as Flora was, and that made things a great deal easier between them.
‘You’re really not going to come with us?’ He didn’t look up, concentrating on winding Mette’s scarf around her neck.
‘I’ll come and wave you off.’ Flora grinned at Mette. ‘You’ve got to have someone wave you goodbye if you’re going on an expedition.’
Aksel put the sandwiches into a daypack and made a show of going through its contents with Mette, explaining that the most important part of any expedition was to make sure it was properly provisioned. This particular journey required three glitter pens, a packet of sweets and Mette’s rag doll.
Downstairs, Mette solemnly let the receptionist know where they were going and when they’d be back, and that they’d be documenting their journey thoroughly with photographs. Flora accompanied them outside, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold.
‘I want to ride, Papa.’
‘All right.’ Aksel bent down, lifting Mette up and settling her securely on his shoulders, and she squealed with glee. He said something in Norwegian, clearly instructing Mette to hold on tight, and she flung her arms around his head.
He was standing completely still, blinded suddenly. Flora laughed, moving quickly to remove Mette’s arms from over his eyes. ‘Not like that, sweetheart. Papa can’t see.’
‘Thanks.’ Aksel shot her a slow smile, and it happened again. That gorgeous, slightly dizzy feeling, as if they were the only two people on the planet, and they understoo
d each other completely.
Flora wrenched her gaze away from his, reaching up to pull Mette’s hat down firmly over her ears. The little girl chuckled, tapping the top of her father’s head in an obvious signal to start walking.
Flora waved them goodbye, calling after them, and Aksel turned so that Mette could wave one last time. She watched them until they disappeared around the corner of the building, two explorers off to test the limits of Mette’s world. Maybe Aksel’s too.
* * *
Aksel had wondered whether Flora might come to say goodnight to Mette when she finished work. His disappointment when she didn’t wasn’t altogether on behalf of his daughter, however much he tried to convince himself that it was.
They had a connection. It was one of those things that just happened, forged out of nothing between two people who hardly knew each other. He could do nothing about it, but that didn’t mean he had to act on it either. The days when he’d had only himself to consider were gone.
The evening ritual of reading Mette a story and then carrying her over to her bed calmed him a little. As he settled her down, cosy and warm under the quilt, he heard a quiet tap on the door and it opened a fraction.
‘What are you still doing here?’ Flora’s working day had finished hours ago, but he couldn’t help the little quiver of joy that gripped his heart.
‘I’ve been working late. I just wondered how your expedition went.’
‘We went across a big river! And back again.’ Mette was suddenly wide awake again. ‘Will you come with us next time, Tante Flora?’
Flora blushed, telling Mette that she would. Aksel wondered whether it gave her as much pleasure to hear the little girl call her Tante as it did when she called him Papa. He’d decided with Olaf and Agnetha that they wouldn’t push her, and that Mette should call him whatever she felt comfortable with, but the first time she’d used Papa, Aksel hadn’t been able to hide his tears.
‘It means aunt. Don’t be embarrassed, she calls a lot of people tante or onkel.’ Flora’s reluctance to be seen to be too close to the little girl in front of Dr Sinclair had been obvious.
Festive Fling with the Single Dad Page 5
