Festive Fling with the Single Dad

by Annie Claydon

  She’d decided that she must go and see Mette, because it wouldn’t be fair to just desert the little girl. Making sure that Aksel wasn’t at the clinic that morning, she spent an hour with Mette, putting on a happy face even though she was dying inside, and then went back to her treatment room, locking the door so that she could cry bitter tears.

  It seemed that Aksel had got the message. He knew that she didn’t want to see him, and he was avoiding her too. He was perceptive enough to know that things weren’t going to work out between them, and it was better to break things off now. He might even be happy about that. Flora was a claim on his time and attention that he didn’t need right now.

  The second time she passed his cottage, on the way to her own front door, was no easier than the first. It looked as empty as it had last night, and Flora wondered whether he’d found somewhere else to stay.

  But then she’d gone to the window to close the curtains and seen the light flickering at the top of the hill, partly obscured by the ruins of the old keep. Flora knew exactly where Aksel was now. This was his signal fire, and it was meant for her.

  He might have just phoned... If Aksel had called her then she could have dismissed the call, and that would have been an end to it. But the fire at the top of the hill burned on, seeming to imprint itself on her retinas even when she wasn’t staring out of the window at it.

  She needed something to take her mind off it. Her Christmas card list was always a good bet, and she fetched it, along with the boxes of cards that she’d bought, sitting down purposefully in front of the fire with a pen and a cup of tea. But her hand shook as she wrote. Wishing friends and family a happy Christmas always made her smile but, knowing that this year she’d be spending hers without Aksel, the Christmas greetings only emphasised her own hollow loneliness.

  She gathered the cards up, deciding to leave them for another day. Drawing the curtains apart, she saw the light of the fire still twinkling out in the gloom...

  * * *

  Aksel had built the fire knowing that Flora would see it. And knowing that he’d stay here all night if he had to, and then the following night, and each night until she came. However long it took, he’d be here when Flora finally decided to climb the hill.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be tonight. It was getting late, and the lights of her cottage had been flicking on and off, tracing what seemed to be an irregular and undecided progress from room to room. Soon the on and off of the lights upstairs would signal that Flora had gone to bed, which left little chance that she’d come to him tonight.

  All the same, he’d be here. Wrapped in his sleeping bag, until the first rays of dawn told him that he had to move now, work the cold stiffness from his limbs, and get on with another day.

  His fire was burning low, and he went to fetch more fuel from the pile of branches that he’d stacked up nearby. The blaze began to climb through the dry twigs, brightening as it went, and he missed the one thing he had been waiting and watching for. When he looked down toward the village again, Flora’s porch light was on.

  He cursed his own inattentiveness, reaching for his backpack. His trembling fingers fumbled with the small binoculars, and he almost dropped them on the ground. Focussing them down towards Flora’s cottage, he saw her standing in her porch, wearing her walking boots and thick, waterproof jacket, and looking up in his direction. Aksel almost recoiled, even though he knew that she couldn’t see him. And then she went back inside the cottage again.

  He bit back his disappointment. It had been too much to expect from this first night. But then she reappeared, pulling a hat onto her head, and as she started to walk away from the cottage a small thread of light issued from her hand. He smiled, glad that she’d remembered to bring a torch with her.

  Aksel tried to calm himself by wondering which route she’d take. The most direct was the steepest, and it would be an easier walk to circle around the bottom of the hill before climbing it. She crossed the bridge that led from the village to the estate and disappeared for a moment behind a clump of bushes. And then he saw her again, climbing the steep, stony ground and making straight for him.

  He waited, his eyes fixed on the small form labouring up the hill. When she fell, and the torch rolled skittishly back a few feet down the slope, he sprang to his feet, cursing himself for bringing her out here in the dark. But before he could run towards her, she was on her feet again, retrieving the torch.

  Aksel forced himself to sit back down on the stony bench he’d made beside the fire. He had to wait, even though it was agony to watch Flora struggle like this. He had to trust that she’d come to him, and she had to know that she would too, however hard the journey.

  His heart beat like a battering ram, and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. The fire crackled and spat, flames flaring up into the night. The moment he’d longed for so desperately would be here soon, and despite working through every possible thing she might say to him, and what he might say in reply, he was completely unprepared.

  When she finally made it to the top of the hill, she seemed rather too out of breath to say anything. Flora switched off her torch, putting her hands on her hips in a stance that indicated she wasn’t going to take any nonsense from him.

  ‘It’s warmer by the fire...’ He ventured the words and she frowned.

  ‘This had better be good, Aksel. If you think I came up here in the middle of the night to hear something you might have said anywhere...’

  ‘When might I have said it? You told me you never wanted to speak to me again.’

  The logic had seemed perfect to him, but it only seemed to make her more angry. ‘You could have slipped a note under my front door. It’s not so far for either of us to walk.’

  ‘I trusted you to come to me.’

  She stared at him. ‘I really wish you hadn’t said that.’

  Because it was the one thing he could have said to stop her from walking away from him? A sharp barb of hope bit into his heart.

  ‘Sit down. Please.’

  Flora pressed her lips together, hesitating for agonising moments. Then she marched over to the stone slab that he was sitting on, plumping herself down on the far end so that their shoulders didn’t touch.

  She was angry still, but at least she was sitting down. Aksel wasn’t sure where to start, but before he could organise his thoughts, Flora did it for him.

  ‘Where have you been, Aksel? You haven’t been at the cottage and Mette told me that you weren’t coming in to see her today.’

  ‘You went to see Mette?’ Of course she had. Flora wouldn’t let a little thing like a broken heart get in the way of making sure that a child wasn’t hurt by her absence. And from the way that she seemed to hate him so much, Aksel was in no doubt that her heart was just as wounded as his.

  ‘Yes. I made sure that you weren’t there already.’

  Good. Hate was a lot more akin to love than indifference was. ‘I was in Oslo.’

  ‘Oslo? For two days?’

  ‘Just a day. I went to see Mette yesterday afternoon and left straight from there. I got back a couple of hours ago. The flight only takes an hour from Glasgow.’

  She turned the edges of her mouth down. ‘And it was such a long way when I was thinking of making the trip.’

  He deserved that. ‘I meant it when I said that I wouldn’t be able to let you go, and that this is your home. I went to Oslo to talk with Olaf and Agnetha. About making this my home and Mette’s.’

  ‘You need their permission?’ He could hear the fight beginning to go out of Flora’s tone. She was starting to crumble, and if she wasn’t in his arms yet, then maybe she would be if he gave it time.

  ‘No, I don’t. I’m Mette’s father, and I make decisions about what’s best for her, you taught me that. I wanted their blessing, and to reassure them that moving here didn’t mean that they wouldn’t get to see her.’

 
; Flora stared at him. ‘And...?’

  ‘They told me that they expected me to get a house with a nice guest room, because they’ll be visiting.’

  A tear ran down her cheek. ‘Aksel, please. What exactly are you saying?’

  Now was the time. He had to be bold, because Flora couldn’t be. He had to trust her, and show her that she could trust him. Aksel hung onto her hand for dear life.

  ‘There’s so much I want to say to you. But it all boils down to one thing.’

  * * *

  Flora had stumbled up a hill in the pitch darkness, and probably skinned her knees. If, in the process, she’d come to realise that nothing could keep her away from Aksel, she wanted to hear what he had to say for himself first.

  The flickering flames bathed his face in warmth, throwing the lines of worry across his forehead into sharp relief. The taut lines of his body showed that he was just as agitated as she was.

  ‘What’s the one thing?’

  ‘I love you.’

  That was good. It was very good because, despite herself, she loved him.

  ‘Seriously?’ Maybe he could be persuaded to say it again...

  ‘Yes, seriously. I love you, Flora.’ He was smiling at her in the firelight.

  ‘I...love you too.’

  He didn’t argue. Putting his arms around her, he enveloped her in a hug.

  ‘I was so horrible to you. I’m sorry, Aksel.’ The things she’d said made Flora shiver now.

  ‘You were afraid. I was afraid too, and our fear was all that we could see. But I’d be the bravest guy in the world if you’d just forgive me.’

  ‘You mean I’m more scary than wrestling crocodiles?’

  ‘Much more. But the thing that scares me most is losing you.’

  Flora kissed him. So much nicer than words. But even the wild pleasure of feeling him close, embraced in his fire on a cold, dark night, couldn’t entirely wipe away the feeling that there were some things they really did need to talk about.

  ‘Aksel... What if...?’

  ‘What-ifs don’t matter.’ He kissed her again, and Flora broke away from him with an effort.

  ‘They do matter, Aksel. I need to know. I want you to say it, because I can’t keep wondering what might happen if we make a go of this, and decide to have children some day.’

  ‘I’d like children very much. A boy, maybe. Or a girl. One or more of each would be more than acceptable...’ He was grinning broadly now.

  ‘Stop it! Don’t even say that if you can’t also say that there’s a risk that one or more of our children might have cystic fibrosis.’

  He took her hands between his. ‘I know that there may be a risk, but only if I carry the gene as well. I love you and I trust you. It’s not that I don’t care about these possibilities, I just have no doubts that we can face it and do the right thing. And there are other things we need to do first.’

  He trusted her. He’d take her as she was, with all the doubts that raised, and he’d make them into certainties. ‘What other things do we need to do first?’

  ‘First, I need to tell you that I intend to marry you. I’ll work very hard towards making you so happy that you won’t be able to resist asking...’

  ‘What? I have to ask you?’

  Aksel nodded. ‘You have to ask me, because you already know what my answer will be. I’ll wait.’

  ‘You’re very sure of yourself.’

  ‘I’m very sure of you. And I’ll be doing my best to wear you down...’ He took her into his arms and kissed her. He’d answered none of her questions, but they were all irrelevant now. The only thing that mattered was that they loved each other.

  ‘And how are you going to do that?’

  He gave her a gorgeous grin. ‘Close your eyes and imagine...’

  * * *

  Aksel wasn’t sure whether he had a right to be this happy. But he’d take it. He’d stamped the fire out hastily, lucky not to singe his boots in the process, and he and Flora had hurried back down the hill. The only question that was left to ask was whether they’d spend the night in his bed or hers.

  He reckoned that last night had to count towards the wearing down process. And then this morning, when they’d made love again, before rushing to work.

  If Lyle noticed the coincidence of Aksel wanting to take Mette out after lunch and Flora asking for the afternoon off, he’d said nothing. The old SUV was now running smoothly and even though the outside left a little to be desired, it was now thoroughly clean inside and had a child seat in the back.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Flora felt as excited as Mette was.

  ‘Wait and see.’ Aksel took the road leading to the other side of the estate, through snow-covered grasslands, and then they bumped a little way across country to the half-acre plantation of Christmas trees. The larger ones, for the castle and the village marketplace had already been felled, but there were plenty of smaller ones that would fit nicely in Flora’s cottage. He left Flora to help Mette out of the car seat, and opened the boot to retrieve the chainsaw he’d borrowed from Ted Mackie.

  ‘No!’ Flora clapped her hand over her mouth in horror when she saw him eyeing the plantation. ‘We can’t do that...isn’t tree rustling some kind of crime?’

  ‘I got permission from Charles. He says I can take whichever tree I want. Anyway, trees can’t run away, so I’m sure it wouldn’t technically be rustling.’

  ‘Is it Christmas Eve tomorrow?’ Mette started to jiggle up and down in excitement.

  ‘In Scotland we can put up our tree as soon as we like, we don’t have to wait until the day before Christmas Eve.’

  Mette’s eyes grew rounder. ‘I like Scotland, Papa. Do we have two Christmases?’

  ‘No, but there’s Hogmanay.’ Aksel grinned as Mette looked perplexed. ‘You’ll have to wait and see what that is.’

  Mette nodded, and Aksel leaned towards Flora, her soft scent curling around him. ‘I like Scotland, too.’

  * * *

  They took their time choosing, wandering through the plantation hand in hand, while Mette relied on Kari to guide her through the snow. Mette declared that she wanted a tree tall enough for her to climb up to the sky, and Aksel explained that they couldn’t get one like that into the cottage. In the end, Flora settled the argument by choosing one they all liked.

  ‘Stand back...’ He started up the chainsaw, grinning at Flora, and then cut a ‘V’ shape in the trunk. Flora hung tightly onto Mette’s hand as she screamed excitedly. The tree fell exactly where Aksel had indicated it would.

  He’d brought some netting, and Aksel wrapped the tree up in it, bending the larger branches upwards. Then he lifted the tree onto one shoulder to take it to the car. The raw power in his body never failed to thrill Flora. But there was more now. They were becoming a family.

  ‘How long do I have to hold out for? Before I ask you to marry me?’ Mette was busy scooping snow up to make a snowman, and Flora watched as Aksel loaded the tree into the car.

  ‘Be strong.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’m finding that persuading you is much nicer than I’d thought. I have a few more things in mind.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Breakfast in bed on Christmas morning. A Hogmanay kiss. Taking you back to Norway to meet my family after the New Year.’

  Flora had always thought that the most romantic proposal must be a surprise. But planning it like this was even better than she’d dreamed. ‘That sounds wonderful. Don’t think that I won’t be thinking of some things to persuade you.’

  ‘So how long before we give in?’ He leaned forward, growling the words into her ear as if they were a challenge.

  ‘I think that decorating the tree’s going to be the first big test of our resolve. Christmas Eve might prove very tempting...’

  ‘Yes. That’ll be difficult.’ He took her hand,
pulling off her glove and pressing her fingers to his lips.

  ‘You’ll be ready with your answer?’ Flora smiled up at him.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her. ‘I’ll be ready.’

  EPILOGUE

  Oslo, one year later

  IT WAS THE night before Christmas Eve, and the family had gathered for Christmas. The big tree at Olaf and Agnetha’s house was the centrepiece of the celebrations, and both Aksel’s and Flora’s parents were spending Christmas here this year. Everyone had admired the appliquéd Christmas stockings, a present from Mary Monroe, who had made a complete recovery and was back working at her beloved quilt shop three days a week.

  Mette had fallen asleep as soon as her head had touched the pillow, and Aksel and Flora had tiptoed next door to their own room.

  ‘Mum was telling me how welcome your parents have made her and Dad. They’ve been showing them around Oslo.’ Flora slid onto the bed, propping herself up on the pillows next to Aksel, and he put his arm around her.

  ‘I’m glad they get on so well. And with Olaf and Agnetha too.’

  Flora nodded. ‘I’m really going to miss this year. We did so much.’

  They’d arranged a wedding and bought a house, one of the large stone-built properties just outside the village. Mette understood that her new family would always be there for her, and was gaining in confidence and exploring her world a little more each day. Aksel had been working at the canine therapy centre, after the previous vet had decided not to return from her maternity leave, and helping Ted Mackie organise adventure trips on the estate for the clinic’s residents.

  ‘I’ve got something to get us started on next year. I had an email from Charles this morning. He’s signed the papers for the land, and it’s now officially ours. We can start to build in the New Year.’