Festive Fling with the Single Dad

by Annie Claydon

  It looked a long way. The most direct route from the village was up a steep incline, and Aksel was clearly heading for the gentler slope at the other side, which meant they had to go through the woods first.

  ‘I can make it.’ She wasn’t going to admit to any doubts. ‘Looks like a nice route for a Sunday afternoon.’

  He kept his face impressively straight. If Aksel had any doubts about her stamina, he’d obviously decided to set them aside in response to her bravado. Perhaps he reckoned that he could always carry her for part of the way.

  ‘I think so.’ His stride lengthened again, as if he’d calculated the exact speed they’d need to go to get back by teatime. Flora fell into step with him, finding that the faster pace wasn’t as punishing as it seemed, and they walked together along the path that led into the trees.

  The light slowly began to fail. Flora hoped they’d be home soon, although Aksel didn’t seem averse to stumbling around in the countryside after dark. She felt her heel begin to rub inside her boot and wondered if she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew.

  Only their footsteps sounded in the path through the trees. It was oddly calming to walk beside him in silence, both travelling in the same direction without any need for words. Their heads both turned together as the screaming bark of a fox came from off to their left, and in the gathering gloom beneath the trees Flora began to hear the rustle of small creatures, which she generally didn’t stop to notice.

  He stopped at the far end of the wood, and Flora was grateful for the chance to catch her breath. Aksel was staring ahead of him at a red-gold sunset flaming across the horizon. It was nothing new, she’d seen sunsets before. But stumbling upon this one seemed different.

  ‘You’re limping. Sit down.’ He indicated a tree trunk.

  Flora had thought she was making a pretty good job of not limping. ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘First rule of walking. Look after your feet. Sit.’ He was brooking no argument and Flora plumped herself down on the makeshift seat. Aksel knelt in front of her, picking up her foot, and testing the boot to see if it would shift.

  ‘Ow! Of course it’s going to hurt if you do that...’ she protested, and he ignored her, unlacing the boot. He stripped off her thin sock, the cold air making her toes curl.

  ‘You’re getting a blister.’ He balanced her foot on his knee, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a blister plaster. It occurred to Flora that maybe he’d come prepared for her as she couldn’t imagine that he ever suffered from blisters.

  All the same, it was welcome. He stuck the plaster around her heel, and then pulled a pair of thick walking socks from his pocket.

  ‘Your feet are moving around in your boots. These should help.’

  ‘I thought walking boots were meant to be roomy.’ She stared at the socks. They had definitely been brought along for her benefit.

  ‘They’re meant to fit. When your foot slips around in them, that’s going to cause blisters.’ He slid her boot back on and relaced it. ‘How does that feel?’

  She had to admit it. ‘Better. Thanks.’

  He nodded, unlacing her other boot. Running his fingers around her heel to satisfy himself that there were no blisters, he held the other sock out and she slid her foot into it. She reached for her boot, and he gave her a sudden smile.

  ‘Let me do it. You need to lace them a bit tighter.’

  Flora gave in to the inevitable. ‘Rookie mistake?’

  ‘Yes.’ His habitual honesty wasn’t making her feel any better.

  ‘You might mention that it can happen to anyone. With new boots.’ The boots weren’t exactly new, but they hadn’t been used much.

  ‘It can happen to anyone. I let water get into one of my boots once, and lost the tips of two toes to frostbite.’

  ‘Hmm. Careless.’

  He looked up at her, smiling suddenly. ‘Yes, it was. Looking at the way your teammates are walking comes as second nature because your feet are the only things you have to carry you home.’

  They weren’t exactly in the middle of nowhere. One of the roads through the estate was over to their right, and Flora had her phone in her pocket, so she could always call a taxi. But as Aksel got to his feet, holding out his hand to help her up, that seemed about as impossible as if they’d been at the South Pole.

  She took a couple of steps. ‘That’s much more comfortable.’

  ‘Good. Let me know if they start to hurt again, I have more plasters.’

  Of course he did. If there was a next time, she’d make him hand over the plasters and lace her boots herself. She’d show him that she could walk just as far as he could. Or at least to the top of the hill and back down again.

  As the ground began to rise, Flora’s determination was tested again. She put her head down, concentrating on just taking one step after another. The incline on the far side of the hill hadn’t looked that punishing, but it was a different matter when you were walking up it.

  Aksel stopped a few times, holding out his hand towards her, and she ignored him. She could do this herself. It was beginning to get really dark now, and snow started to sting her face. This was not a pleasant Sunday afternoon stroll.

  Finally they made it to the top and Aksel stopped, looking around at the looming shapes of the stones. Flora would have let out a cheer if she’d had the breath to do it.

  ‘Perhaps we should take a rest now. Before we go back down.’

  Yes! It was cold up here, but there must be some place where the stones would shelter them. Flora’s legs were shaking and she suddenly felt that she couldn’t take another step. She followed him over to where a tree had grown up amongst the stones, its trunk almost a part of them, and sat down on a rock, worn smooth and flat from its exposed location. Heaven. Only heaven wasn’t quite so cold.

  ‘I won’t be a minute. Stay there.’

  She nodded. Wild horses couldn’t get her to move now. Aksel strode away, the beam of his torch moving to and fro among the stones. He seemed to be looking for something. Flora bent over, putting her hands up to her ears to warm them.

  When he returned he was carrying an armful of dry sticks and moss. Putting them down in front of her, he started to arrange them carefully in two piles.

  ‘What are you going to do now? Rub two sticks together to make a fire?’ Actually, a fire seemed like a very good idea. It was sheltered enough here from the snow, which was blowing almost horizontally now.

  ‘I could do, if you want. But this is easier.’ He produced a battered tin from his pocket, opening it and taking out a flint and steel. Expertly striking the flint along the length of the steel, a spark flashed, lighting the pile of tinder that he’d made. He carefully transferred the embers to the nest of branches, and flames sprang up.

  This was definitely a good idea. Flora held her hands out towards the fire, feeling it begin to warm her face as Aksel fuelled it with some of the branches he’d set to one side. She felt herself beginning to smile, despite all he’d put her through.

  ‘This is nice.’ When he sat down next to her she gave him a smile.

  ‘Better than your fire at home?’ His tone suggested that he thought she’d probably say no.

  ‘Yes. In a strange kind of way.’ Flora was beginning to see how this appealed to Aksel. They’d only travelled a short way, but even though she could still see the lights of the village below her, she felt as if she was looking down from an entirely different planet. The effort of getting here had stripped everything away, and she felt unencumbered. Free, even.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AKSEL HAD PUSHED her hard, setting a pace that would stretch even an experienced walker. He’d wanted her exhausted, unable to sustain the smiles and the kindnesses that she hid behind and defended herself with. But Flora was a lot tougher than he’d calculated. She’d brushed away all his attempts to help her, and kept going until th
ey’d got to the top of the hill.

  But her smile was different now. As she warmed herself in front of the fire, Aksel could see her fatigue, and the quiet triumph in meeting the challenge and getting here. He’d found the real Flora, and he wasn’t going to let her go if he could help it.

  The blaze seemed to chase away the darkness that stood beyond it, illuminating the faces of the rocks piled around them as if this small shelter was the only place in the world. Right now, he wished it could be, because Flora was there with him.

  ‘Now that we’re here...’ she flashed him a knowing smile ‘...what is it you want me to say?’

  She knew exactly what he’d done. And it seemed that she didn’t see the need for tact any more.

  ‘Say whatever you want to say. What’s said around a camp fire generally stays there.’

  She thought for a moment. ‘All right, then, since you probably have a lot more experience of camp-fire truth or dare games, you can start. What’s the thing you most want?’

  Tricky question. Aksel wanted a lot of things, but he concentrated on the one that he could wish for with a good conscience.

  ‘Keeping Mette from harm.’

  ‘That’s a good one. You’ll be needing to get some practice in before she hits her teens.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Aksel explored the idea for a moment and then held up his hand to silence Flora. ‘On second thoughts, I don’t think I want to know.’

  ‘That’s just as well, really. Nothing prepares any of us for our teens.’

  She was smiling, but there was quiet sadness in her tone. Aksel decided that if he didn’t call her bluff now, he was never going to. This wasn’t about Mette any more, it was all about Flora.

  ‘All right. I’m going to turn the question on its head. What would you avoid if you could go back in time?’

  ‘How long have you got?’

  ‘There’s plenty of fuel for the fire here. I’ll listen for as long as I can convince you to stay.’

  She stared into the fire, giving a little sigh. ‘Okay. Number one is don’t fret over spots. Number two is don’t fall in love.’

  ‘The spots I can do something about. I’m not sure that I’m the one to advise anyone about how not to fall in love.’ Aksel was rapidly losing control of his own feelings for Flora.

  ‘All you can do is be there for her when she finds herself with a broken heart.’

  The thought was terrifying. But he wouldn’t have to contend with Mette’s teenage years just yet, and the question of Flora’s heart was a more pressing one at the moment. He would never forgive himself if he lost this chance to ask.

  ‘Who broke yours?’

  ‘Mine?’ Her voice broke a little over the word.

  ‘Yes. What was his name?’

  ‘Thomas Grant. I was nineteen. What was the name of the first girl who dumped you?’

  Aksel thought hard. ‘I don’t remember. I went away on a summer camping trip with my friends, and by the time I got back she was with someone else. I don’t think I broke her heart, and she didn’t break mine.’

  ‘If you can’t remember her name, she probably didn’t.’ Flora was trying to keep this light, but these memories were obviously sad ones.’

  ‘So... Thomas Grant. What did he do?’

  ‘He...’ Flora shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. Aksel could tell that it did. He waited, hoping against agonised hope that if she looked into her own heart, and maybe his, she’d find some reason to go on.

  ‘I went to university in Edinburgh to study physiotherapy. He was in the year above me, studying history...’ She let out a sigh. ‘I fell in love with him. I didn’t tell my parents for a while, they were in Italy and I thought I’d introduce him to them first. I think my mum probably worked it out, though, and so Dad would have known as well.’

  ‘An open secret, then.’ It didn’t sound so bad, but this had clearly hurt Flora. Aksel supposed that most really bad love affairs started well. The only real way to avoid hurt, was never to fall in love.

  ‘Yes. We decided to tell our parents over the summer. We’d been talking about living together during our second year and...he seemed very serious. He even spoke about getting engaged. So I asked him to come to Italy with me for a fortnight. Mum and Dad really liked him and we had a great holiday. Alec wasn’t too well that summer...’

  Something prickled at the back of Aksel’s neck. He knew that the end of this story wasn’t a good one, and wondered what it could have to do with Flora’s brother. His hand shook as he picked up a stick, poking the fire.

  ‘You know, don’t you, that cystic fibrosis is an inherited condition?’ She turned to look at him suddenly.

  ‘Yes.’ Aksel searched his brain, locating the correct answer. ‘It’s a recessive gene, which means that both parents have to carry the gene before there’s any possibility of a child developing cystic fibrosis.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Tom knew that my brother had cystic fibrosis, I never made any secret of it and I’d explained that since both my parents have the gene there was a good chance that I’d inherited it from one of them. Not from both, as my brother did, because I don’t have the condition.’

  ‘There’s also a chance you haven’t.’

  She nodded. ‘There’s a twenty five percent chance of inheriting the gene from both parents. Fifty percent of inheriting it from one parent, and a twenty five percent chance of inheriting it from neither parent. The odds are against me.’

  She didn’t know. The realisation thundered through his head, like stampeding horses. Aksel hadn’t really thought about it, but taking the test to find out whether she’d inherited the faulty gene seemed the logical thing to do, and he wondered why Flora hadn’t. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, not sure how to phrase the question.

  ‘When we came home to Scotland, we went to stay with his parents for a week. I told them about myself, and talked about my family. Tom told me later that I shouldn’t have said anything. His parents didn’t want their grandchildren to run the risk of inheriting my genes.’

  ‘But that’s not something you have to keep a secret...’ Aksel had tried to just let her tell the story, without intervening, but this was too much. Anger and outrage pulsed in his veins.

  ‘No. I don’t think so either.’

  ‘But... Forgive me if this is the wrong thing to say, I’m sure your whole family would rather that your brother didn’t have cystic fibrosis. That doesn’t mean it would be better if your parents had never married, or your brother hadn’t been born.’

  Tears suddenly began to roll down her cheeks. Maybe he had said the wrong thing. ‘Thank you. That’s exactly how I feel.’

  ‘So they were wrong.’ Surely someone must have told her that. ‘What did your parents say?’

  ‘Nothing. I didn’t tell them, or Alec. It would have really hurt them, and I couldn’t tell my own brother that someone thought he wasn’t good enough. He’s a fine man, and he’s found someone who loves him and wants to raise a family with him.’

  The defiance in her voice almost tore his heart out. Flora had stayed silent in order to keep her brother from hurt. She’d borne it all by herself, and her tears told him that with no way to talk about it and work it through, the wound she’d been dealt had festered.

  ‘Did he listen? To his parents?’

  ‘Yes, he listened. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that they were funding his grant, and they threatened to withdraw their support if he didn’t give me up.’

  ‘Don’t make excuses for him, Flora. Don’t tell me that it’s okay to even contemplate the thought that my daughter, or your brother, are worth less than anyone else.’

  She laid her hand on his arm, and Aksel realised that he was shaking with rage. Maybe that was what she needed to see. Maybe this had hurt her for so long because she’d never t
alked about it, and never had the comfort of anyone else’s reaction.

  ‘No one’s ever going to tell Mette that she’s anything other than perfect. I’m not going to tell Alec that either.’

  She’d missed herself out. Flora was perfect too, whether or not she carried the gene. But, still, she hadn’t found out...

  ‘You don’t know whether you carry the gene or not, do you?’

  She shook her head miserably.

  ‘Flora, it’s no betrayal of your brother to want to know.’

  ‘I know that. In my head.’ She placed her hand over her heart. ‘Not here...’

  Suddenly it was all very clear to him. ‘You just want someone to trust you, don’t you?’

  Surprise showed in her face. ‘I never thought of it that way. But, yes, if I take the test I want someone who’ll stick by me whatever the result. If it turns out that I don’t carry the gene, then I’ll never know what would have happened if I did, will I? I suppose that’s just foolishness on my part.’

  It was the foolishness of a woman who’d been badly hurt. One that Aksel could respect, and in that moment he found he could love it too, because it was Flora’s.

  ‘Anyone who really knew you would trust you, Flora. I trust you.’

  She gave a little laugh. ‘Are you making me an offer?’

  Yes. He’d offer himself to her in a split second, no thought needed. But he couldn’t gauge her mood, and the possibility that she might not be entirely serious made him cautious.

  ‘I just meant that you can’t allow this to stop you from taking what you want from life. You deserve a lot more than this.’

  * * *

  The sudden anger wasn’t something that Flora usually felt. There was dull regret and the occasional throb of pain, but this was bright and alive. And it hurt, cutting into her like a newly sharpened blade.

  ‘And that’s why you brought me up here, is it? To take me apart, piece by piece?’ On this hilltop, with the village laid out below them like a child’s toy, it felt as if she could sense the world spinning. And it was spinning a great deal faster at the thought that Aksel wanted to know what made her tick.