by Jules Wake
We stood for a while in the pool of light, Nate’s chin brushing my head, before we finally moved over to sit on the sofa for the serious stuff.
He smiled at me. ‘I knew I’d made the right decision as soon as I walked in tonight and saw you with Grace –’ his eyes twinkled ‘– showing her how to play badly.’ He lifted a hand to my face, smoothing away a strand of hair. ‘Showing her that she can be human. That she doesn’t need to be perfect. You …’ His voice cracked and my eyes darted to his. I saw him swallow and press his lips tight together before he said in a whisper, ‘You’re so good with her, it almost breaks my heart. You understand her. But you don’t do it for me, you do it for her and for you. That’s what I love about you, that huge compassion and understanding you have. Your quiet awareness of the things we, Grace and I, keep below the surface.’
I reached up and touched his face, my heart contracting at his words as he carried on.
‘You never pushed, not once. You let me come to you,’ he said in a low fierce voice. ‘I’m not the best bet, you know. Failed marriage, single dad.’ With a sad smile he pulled back slightly.
In response I reached up to trace his mouth with my fingers, my heart full to bursting, too choked with emotion to frame the words. I poured my love into that touch as I explored his face, my eyes never leaving his.
‘Viola?’
The brief touch of uncertainty in his eyes shocked me into speech. ‘I love you, Nate. Married man or not, I couldn’t seem to stop myself falling for you. My heart didn’t seem to understand that you were out of bounds.’
‘Married in name only. I love you, Viola. More than I thought possible. With heart and soul in a way that I never …’ His fingers toyed with the skin behind my hair almost as if he were unaware of it.
I leaned forward and kissed him. God, I loved him.
‘And I know you love Grace.’ He paused, a smile touching his lips. ‘Of course you do know she comes as part of the package.’
I groaned. ‘Oh God, I’m not going to have to teach you the viola as well.’
Nate gave a shout of laughter as he pulled me into his arms and we fell back against the sofa, his lips finding mine as we kissed, or tried to kiss, in between giggles. Then the kisses moved up a gear and, mindless, I sank into the feel of his body against mine, the electric touch of his tongue toying with mine and the fireworks that fizzed and exploded in every last part of me.
When I came to, my blood settling as I lay nose to nose with Nate on the sofa, I stared into his solemn eyes. Practicalities now after the fizz and flush of love, lust and sheer joy.
‘Elaine?’
‘She’s gone.’ His quiet statement of fact suddenly made everything seem so much simpler. ‘Going back to New York.’
‘I’m sorry. For Grace.’ I winced.
‘Don’t be.’ He touched my cheek. ‘Seeing you teaching her to play your – I dread to think how expensive viola – it just cemented everything. You give Grace so much more. Elaine might be her biological mother but … we talked it all through. She accepts that she can’t be what Grace needs or deserves.’ Sadness glowed in his eyes and his hand drifted down to hold mine. ‘We both cried. For Grace. For our marriage. But I realise now, Elaine was very generous there, she said that neither of us failed, we were just the wrong people together. And Elaine’s the wrong person to be a mother. She’s a brilliant, talented, beautiful woman. Today I suspect she really did save the day. Made millions of dollars for her clients. I admire her for being a trailblazer. I’m proud of her and the daughter we made together but … for her that’s not enough. And she’s not enough for me, not when I’ve seen what could be.’ He kissed me, a tender caress with his mouth, and then his lips drifted to press tiny kisses along my jawline before stopping and holding my gaze again, telling me everything he needed to without words. That intent insistent regard would never get old.
‘I understand her in a lot of ways,’ I said quietly, squeezing his hand. ‘If I couldn’t play my music … it’s part of me. Part of who I am.’
‘But you have the capacity for more as well. You have love to give. So much empathy.’ He paused. ‘I’m not sure I deserve you.’
I kissed him softly on the mouth. ‘Luckily for you, I’m the one that gets to make that choice.’
‘Will you have me?’ The quiet simple words dropped into the silence of the room.
My eyes locked on his as I made my promise. ‘Yes.’
‘And Grace?’
I raised an indignant eyebrow. ‘You even have to ask?’
‘No … you know what you’re taking on.’
‘What about Grace? How are you going to tell her –’ my voice broke ‘– that Elaine is leaving again?’
‘It’s sad –’ I felt his body sag slightly with a touch of defeat ‘– but Grace knows; in her heart of hearts she knows. I think having Elaine back for this last week hasn’t been quite the fairy tale family moment she’d hoped for. Grace is too adult for her years.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m going to tell her the truth … that it’s Daddy’s fault … he doesn’t love Mummy any more.’ He laced his fingers through mine and held them against his chest.
‘She’ll be upset but I’m hoping that we can build a home that’s happy enough to make her realise that she’s loved, to compensate for what she’s lost. It will hurt to start with but … when you’re here this house is a home. When you’re here I want to be here. It’s the sort of place I want Grace to grow up in. A home rather than a house. A home where she’s loved and where she comes first, within reason. A proper family.’
His intent gaze made me swallow. ‘Of course, if you hate this house we can move.’
‘This is Grace’s home. I don’t think it would be fair to impose too much change on her, although there are things I’d change,’ I said with a sudden teasing grin. ‘That wallpaper, for a start. And tomorrow we have to go out and get another tree.’
‘Yes, we must.’ He sobered. ‘I could have killed Elaine when I realised the tree had gone. All I could think of was you and me putting the lights on the tree with Grace giving us those useless instructions, “up a bit”, “no, higher”, “in the wiggly bit”. And you laughing at me. And then I couldn’t stop thinking of you … in the snow, at brunch, tickling Grace in bed, remembering how happy I was that morning when I woke up and remembered you were in the house, and so many other things. When I looked at that empty space in the kitchen I missed you. That’s when I realised I couldn’t play happy families even for the sake of Grace. I just wanted you to be here.’
‘I missed you too. Mum can’t understand why I’ve been at her and Dad’s so much … I just couldn’t bear to be on my own in the flat. I’m actually almost organised for Christmas, I’ve been so busy trying to keep myself occupied for the last few days. Although –’ I gave him a mischievous look ‘– you’re going to have to help me with the food shopping tomorrow … looks like there’ll be two extra mouths to feed at Mum’s.’
‘You’re inviting us to lunch with your family?’
‘I am …’ I laughed ‘… I need the moral support, although they have all been given strict instructions that they have to pitch in and help.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. I think they’re going to have to get used to the idea that Grace and I need you far more than they do.’ He brushed my lips again. ‘But remember this, you’re allowed to need us. From now on, you have us and I’ll be here for you.’
He lifted my hand and kissed each knuckle in a tender promise that had the rest of my heart pooling into nothing more than a puddle.
‘By the way, what did Grace say to you?’
I laughed. ‘She’s decided that she doesn’t mind if Daddy has a girlfriend after all.’
Nate gave me a brilliant smile. ‘I think that should be amended to: she doesn’t mind if Daddy has a girlfriend as long as it’s you.’
‘I agree with that.’
‘I’ve got a horrible feeling from now on I’m going to be outnumbered an
d the two of you are going to gang up on me.’
I grinned up at him. ‘You’d better believe it and there are going to be a few changes around here.’
‘There are?’
I sobered and nodded, thinking of Grace. ‘Perhaps we can begin with introducing some Christmas traditions of our own. Make our own perfect Christmas for Grace. This year, I think Santa and Rudolph should get a mince pie and carrot and that someone should wake up with a stocking on their bed on Christmas morning.’
‘That’s an excellent idea.’ A wicked twinkle lit up his eyes. ‘And I think if it’s going to be the perfect Christmas I should wake up with something in my bed on Christmas morning. Any suggestions?’ he asked as his hands slid down my body.
‘You don’t want a stocking as well, do you?’ I sighed with mock weariness.
‘No,’ he growled, ‘I want you.’ He kissed me on the mouth. ‘On Christmas Day.’ He kissed me again and this time I sighed with happiness and smiled up at him. ‘That sounds perfect.’ In fact it looked as if this Christmas might just be the best one ever.
THE END
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Acknowledgements
Some books are easier to write than others and some are closer to an author’s heart than others, this one was very much a labour of love as I completely fell for my characters, especially Viola my viola playing heroine. I needed to do considerable research and as most people who know me will attest, I do not have a single musical bone in my body and I have to thank Alan Garner and Julie Price who talked me through the inner workings of being in an orchestra and introduced me to a brand new word, Sitzeprobe[1]. I’m honoured to count these renowned classical musicians as friends and any mistakes I’ve made are all mine, in spite of their patient teachings.
With any book, no matter how much you fall in love with it, there are points where you never believe it will be good enough. My much loved agent, Broo Doherty, gave me the vital belief, support and encouragement exactly when I needed it for this book, also providing her usual wise owl brilliant suggestions to help improve the story. The icing on the cake bits are all down to the fabulous skills of my wonderful editor, Charlotte Ledger, who like a heat seeking missile homes in on what needs to be done to make a book the best it can be. I can’t thank either of these two wonderful women enough. I’m also extremely grateful to copyeditor extraordinaire, Sheila Turner, who added the final bit of sparkle.
I also have the most amazing behind the scenes cheerleading team of author friends, who help me with plot ideas and problems, Donna Ashcroft (and her partner, Chris Cardoza, who puts up with me constantly invading his kitchen) and those who cheer me on when the word count gets sticky; Sarah Bennett, Darcie Boleyn, Philippa Ashley and Bella Osborne. Being friends with all of them has enriched my writing life no end. Thanks also go to fellow author, Sue Moorcroft, as I wrote part of this book in Italy (not necessarily conducive to writing about snow) on a writing retreat and we had several invaluable chats which helped me to resolve a couple of thorny plot issues.
Special thanks to Paulene Le Floche, schoolfriend and champion proof reader, who swooped in to the rescue when I needed some help and is a wonderful supporter.
Last and never least are you the readers. Thank you for choosing to read my book when there are thousands out there, thank you to those who get in touch, it’s always lovely to hear from you and thank you to all those who leave reviews … even its only a one liner, they make the world of difference. I hope you enjoy Viola’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Footnote
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Acknowledgements
1. Sitzprobe is a rehearsal where the singers sit in with the orchestra and often it’s the first time the two groups have rehearsed together.
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