Festive Fling with the Single Dad

by Annie Claydon

  ‘And I was hoping it was just me...’ Flora smiled as if it was a joke, but Aksel saw a flash of longing in her eyes, which was hidden as quickly as it had appeared.

  ‘Not usually so quickly.’ Aksel tried to take the thought back, turning to his daughter and arranging the bedcovers over her again. ‘Are you ready to say goodnight, Mette?’

  ‘I want Tante Flora to say it with me...’ Mette reached for the cabinet by the side of her bed, carefully running her fingers across its edge. Aksel bit back the instinct to help her, waiting patiently for her to find what she wanted by touch. The clinic staff had told him that he should let her do as much as she could by herself, but each time he had to pause and watch her struggling to do something that came so naturally to other children, he felt consumed with the sadness of all that Mette had lost.

  ‘It’s okay...’ Flora whispered the words. They were for him, not Mette, and when he looked at her, he saw understanding. She could see how much this hurt, and was enforcing the message that it was what he must do, to allow Mette to learn how to explore her world.

  Not easy. He mouthed the words, and Flora nodded.

  ‘I know. You’re doing great.’

  Mette had found what she wanted, and she clutched the small electric light in her hand as she snuggled back under the covers. When she tipped it to one side, light glimmered inside the glass, as if a candle had been lit.

  She hadn’t done that for a few days, and Aksel hadn’t pushed the issue, leaving Mette to do as she wanted. Maybe it was Flora’s presence, her warmth, that had made Mette think of her mother tonight.

  ‘Say goodnight to Mama.’ Mette directed the words at Flora and she glanced questioningly at Aksel.

  ‘Her grandmother gave her this. Mette switches it on when she wants to talk to Lisle and then we pretend to blow out the candle.’

  ‘That’s a lovely thing to do.’ Flora’s smile showed that she understood that this was an honour that Mette usually didn’t share with people outside the family.

  They each said their goodnights, Mette including Tante Flora in hers. Flora leaned forward, kissing Mette, and then turned, leaving Aksel to kiss his daughter goodnight alone.

  She was waiting outside the door, though. The connection, which grew stronger each time he saw her, had told Aksel that she’d be there and it hadn’t let him down yet.

  ‘Would you like a lift home?’

  Aksel shook his head. ‘No. Thanks, but I want to go and have a word with Dr Sinclair. He said he’d still be here.’

  ‘I can wait.’

  ‘I’d prefer to walk. It clears my head.’ It also didn’t carry with it the temptation to ask Flora into his cottage for a nightcap. By the time he got home, he would have persuaded himself that the light that burned in her porch in the evenings was something that he could resist.

  ‘I think I prefer a head full of clutter to walking in the cold and dark.’ She gave him a wry smile and started to walk slowly towards the main staircase.

  There was no one around, and they were dawdling companionably along the corridor. He could ask her now...

  A sixth sense warned Aksel that he couldn’t. Someone like Flora must have men lining up to ask her out, but she obviously had no partner. No children either. He wanted to ask about the welcome gifts she gave to all the kids at the clinic, and the quickly veiled sadness he’d seen in her eyes. But he didn’t have the words, and something told him that even if he did, Flora would shut his enquiries down.

  A couple of nurses walked past them, and Flora acknowledged them with a smile. The moment was gone.

  ‘So... You’re still okay for eight thirty tomorrow? To visit the housing complex?’

  Flora nodded. ‘I’ll be ready.’

  ‘Esme’s offered me the use of one of the therapy centre’s vehicles, so I’ll drop in there to get the keys first thing and then pick you up.’

  ‘Oh, great. I’ll see you then.’ She gave him a little wave, making for the main staircase, and Aksel watched her go.

  Flora was an enigma. Beautiful and clever, she seemed to live inside a sparkling cocoon of warmth. When she was busy, which seemed to be most of the time, it was entirely believable to suppose that she had everything she wanted.

  But he’d seen her with Mette, and he’d seen the mask slip. Beneath it all was loneliness, and a hint of sadness that he couldn’t comprehend. Maybe he saw it because he too was searching for a way forward in life. Or perhaps the connection between them, which he’d given up trying to deny, allowed him to see her more clearly.

  But this chance to work together would set his head straight. Aksel had made up his mind that it would banish the thought that Flora could be anything else to him, other than a friend and colleague. And when he made up his mind to do something, he usually succeeded.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FLORA SAW THE battered SUV draw up outside at ten to eight the following morning. Aksel was early, and she gulped down her coffee, hurrying into the hall to fetch Dougal’s lead. But the expected knock on her door didn’t come.

  When she looked again, she saw Aksel had opened the bonnet of the SUV and was peering at the engine. He made a few adjustments and then started the engine again. It sounded a bit less throaty than it had before.

  That was a relief. The therapy centre’s SUV had done more miles than anyone cared to count, and although it was reliable it could probably do with a service. Aksel looked at the engine again, wiping something down with a rag from his back pocket and then seemed satisfied, closing the bonnet and switching off the engine. Then he walked up the front path of his cottage, disappearing inside.

  Fair enough. He’d said half past eight, and that would give her time to make herself some toast. She put Dougal’s lead back in the hall and he gave her a dejected look.

  ‘We’ll be going soon, Dougal.’ The little dog tipped his head up towards her at the mention of his name and Flora bent to stroke his head.

  When she wandered back into the sitting room, still eating the last of her toast, she saw that Aksel was outside again, in the car and that it was rocking slightly as he moved around inside it. Flora put her coat on and Dougal once again sprang to the alert, realising that this time they really were going to go.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Flora rapped on the vehicle’s window, and Aksel straightened up.

  ‘Just...tidying up a bit. I didn’t realise this car was such a mess when I offered you a lift.’

  He tucked a cloth and a bottle of spray cleaner under the driver’s seat and opened the car door. The scent of kitchen cleaner wafted out, and something about Aksel’s manner suggested that he’d really rather not have been caught doing this.

  ‘It sounds as if it’s running a lot better.’ Flora wondered if she should volunteer her car for the journey, but it seemed ungrateful after he’d spent time on the SUV.

  ‘I made a few adjustments. The spark plugs really need to be replaced, I’ll stop and get some if we pass somewhere that sells car parts. They’ll be okay for the distance we have to do.’

  ‘I’m sure they will. It’s not exactly a trip into the wilderness. And if the SUV breaks down, we can always call the garage.’

  He grinned suddenly, as if she’d understood exactly what he was thinking. ‘Force of habit. When you’re miles away from anywhere, you need a well-maintained vehicle. I’ll just go and fetch Kari.’

  The dogs were installed on the cushioned area behind the boot divider, amidst a clamour of excited barking from Dougal. Aksel stowed Flora’s bag of medical supplies on the back seat, and then gave the passenger door a sharp tug to open it. Flora climbed in, noticing that both the seat and the mat in the footwell were spotlessly clean.

  ‘You didn’t need to do all this...’

  ‘You don’t want to get your coat dirty.’ Aksel looked a little awkward at the suggestion he’d done anything. He closed the passen
ger door and rounded the front of the vehicle.

  All the same, it would have been a nice gesture on anyone’s part, and on Aksel’s it was all the sweeter. He clearly hadn’t given the same attention to his own seat, and Flora leaned over to brush some of the mud off it before he got in.

  ‘Anything I should know about the sheltered housing?’ He settled himself into the driver’s seat, ignoring the remains of the mud, and twisted the ignition key. The engine started the first time.

  ‘It’s a group of thirty double and single units, designed to give elderly people as much independence as possible. Residents have their own front doors, and each unit has a bedroom, a sitting room and a kitchenette. There’s a common lounge, and a dining room for those who don’t want to cook, and care staff are on hand at all times to give help when needed.’

  ‘And what’s your part in all of this?’

  ‘I’m the Tuesday exercise lady. Mondays is chiropody, Wednesdays hairdressing. The mobile library comes on a Thursday, and Friday is shopping list day.’

  ‘And everyone gets a rest at the weekend?’

  ‘Kind of. Saturday is film night, and that can get a bit rowdy.’

  He chuckled. ‘So you just hold an exercise class?’

  ‘No, I hold one-to-one consultations as well. I have a lady with a frozen shoulder and one who’s recovering from a fractured wrist at the moment. And I also hold sessions for family members during the evenings and at weekends to show them how to assist their elderly relatives and help keep them as active as possible. Just a little of the right exercise makes a huge difference.’

  ‘It sounds like a good place.’ He manoeuvred into the drive-through entrance of the canine therapy centre and retrieved Dougal’s lead from the back seat. ‘I’m almost tempted to book myself in for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘You don’t strike me as the kind of person who likes a quiet life.’

  Aksel shot her a sideways glance, the corners of his mouth quirking down for a moment. ‘I’m leaving what I used to be behind. Remember?’

  He got out of the car, opening the tailgate and lifting Dougal out, leading him towards the glass sided entrance. Dougal bounded up to the young man at the reception desk, and Aksel gave him a smiling wave. Flora wondered exactly who he was trying to fool. Everything about Aksel suggested movement, the irresistible urge to go from A to B.

  ‘So you’re not convinced that Mette will benefit from sharing your experiences?’ By the time he’d returned to the car, Flora had phrased the question in her head already so that it didn’t sound too confronting.

  He chuckled. ‘Spare me the tact, Flora. Say what’s on your mind.’

  ‘All right. I think you’re selling yourself short. And Mette.’

  He started the car again. ‘It’s one thing to take her on pretend expeditions. But I have to change, I can’t leave her behind and travel for months at a time.’

  ‘No, of course you can’t. But that doesn’t mean that have to give up who you are. You can be an explorer who stays home...’

  ‘That’s a lot harder than it sounds.’

  She could hear the anger in his voice. The loss.

  ‘Is losing yourself really going to help Mette?’

  ‘I don’t know. All I know is that who I used to be kept me apart from her for five years. I can’t forgive myself for that, and I don’t want to be that person any more.’

  His lips were set in a hard line and his tone reeked of finality. There was no point in arguing, and maybe she shouldn’t be getting so involved with his feelings. She sat back in her seat, watching the reflection of the castle disappear behind them in the rear-view mirror.

  * * *

  It wasn’t fair, but Aksel couldn’t help being angry. Flora had no right to constantly question his decisions, Mette wasn’t her child. If she’d been faced with the same choice that he had, she’d understand.

  But he couldn’t hold onto his anger for very long, because he suspected that Flora did understand. She’d seen his guilt and feeling of inadequacy when faced with the task of bringing up a child. She saw that he loved Mette, too, and that he would do whatever it took to make her happy. And she saw that even though he was ashamed to admit it, he still sometimes regretted the loss of his old life.

  In that old life, the one he’d firmly turned his back on, he would have loved the way that she understood him so well. He would have nurtured the connection, and if it led to something more he would have welcomed it. But now, even the thought of that made him feel as if he was betraying Mette. The anger that he directed at Flora should really be directed at himself.

  By the time they drew up outside the modern two-storey building, nestling amongst landscaped gardens, he’d found the ability to smile again. It wasn’t difficult when he looked at Flora. She got out of the car, shouldering her heavy bag before he had a chance to take it from her.

  ‘The exercise does me good.’ She grinned at him.

  ‘All that weight on one shoulder?’ He gave her a look of mock reproach. ‘If I were a physiotherapist, I’m sure that I’d have something to say about that.’

  She tossed her head. ‘Just as well you’re not, then. Leave the musculoskeletal issues to me, and I won’t give Kari any commands.’

  ‘She won’t listen to you anyway, she understands Norwegian.’

  ‘If you’re going to be like that...’ Flora wrinkled her nose in Aksel’s direction, and then directed her attention to Kari. ‘Kari, gi labb.’

  Her pronunciation left a bit to be desired, but Kari got the message. She held out her paw and Flora took it, grimacing a little at the weight of the bag as she bent over. As she patted Kari’s head, Aksel caught the strap of the bag, taking it from her.

  ‘If you’re going to speak Norwegian to my dog, then all bets are off.’ He slung the bag over his shoulder, feeling a stab of pain as he did so. He ignored it, hoping that Flora hadn’t noticed.

  Inside the building, a woman at a large reception desk greeted Flora, and they signed the visitors’ book.

  ‘Here’s your list for today. Mr King says that he has a crawling pain in his leg.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll take a look at that, then.’ Flora seemed undeterred by the description. ‘I’ll go and see Mrs Crawford first.’

  ‘I think you’ll find she’s a great deal better. She said that she’d been able to raise her arm enough to brush her hair the other day.’ The smiling receptionist was clearly one of those key people in any establishment who knew exactly what was going on with everyone.

  ‘Great. Thanks. My colleague’s here for a meeting with Eileen. Is she around?’

  ‘Yes, she’s in her office.’ The receptionist stood, leaning over the desk. ‘Is that your dog? She’s gorgeous. May I stroke her?’

  ‘Of course. Her name’s Kari.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it...’ Flora shot him a smile, and grabbed the strap of her bag from his shoulder. Aksel watched as she walked away from him. Bad sign. If she turned back and he found himself smiling, that would be an even worse sign.

  * * *

  Flora had gone on her way, warmed by the smile that Aksel had given her, but stopped at the lift and looked back. It was impossible not to look back at him, he was so darned easy on the eye. And the way he seemed to be struggling with himself only made him even more intriguing.

  Fortunately, Mrs Crawford was waiting to see her, and Flora could turn her thoughts to the improvement in her frozen shoulder. Aksel was still lurking in the part of her brain where he seemed to have taken up permanent residence, but he was quiet for the moment.

  ‘Your shoulder seems much better, Helen, you have a lot more movement in it now. Are you still having to take painkillers to get to sleep?’

  Helen leaned forward in her chair, giving her a confiding smile. ‘Last night I didn’t feel I needed them so I put them in the drawer beside my bed.’
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  ‘Right. You do know that you can just tell the carer you don’t need them and she’ll take them away again?’ Flora made a mental note to retrieve the tablets before she left and have them disposed of.

  ‘She’d come all the way up here. And I might need them at some other time. It’s my medication, but they act as if it’s all up to them whether I take it.’

  Flora had heard the complaint before. Drugs were carefully overseen and dispensed when needed, and it was one of the things that Helen had been used to making her own decisions about.

  ‘They have to do that, they’ll get in all kinds of trouble if they don’t store medicines safely and keep a record. Some people here forget whether or not they’ve taken their medication and take too much or too little.’ Some people was vague enough to imply that Flora didn’t include Helen in that.

  ‘I suppose so. It’s very annoying, though.’

  ‘I know. Give the carers a break, they have to keep to the rules or they’ll get into trouble.’ Flora appealed to Helen’s better nature.

  Helen nodded. ‘I wouldn’t want them to get into trouble over me. They have enough to do and they’re very kind.’

  ‘Right, then. I’ll write in your notes that the carer is to offer you the painkillers and ask whether you want them or not. Is that okay?’ Flora moved round so that Helen could see over her shoulder. She liked to know what was being written about her.

  ‘All right, dear.’ Helen tapped the paper with one finger. ‘Put that it’s up to me whether I take them or not.’

  Flora added the note, and Helen nodded in approval. She’d raised four children, and worked in the village pharmacy for thirty years to supplement the family income, and even though her three sons and daughter were determined that she should be well looked after now, she resisted any perceived loss of independence.

  ‘Who’s the young man you arrived with? He’s very tall.’ Helen’s living-room window overlooked the drive, and she liked to keep an eye on arrivals and departures.