The Christmas Holiday: The perfect heart-warming read full of festive magic

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The Christmas Holiday: The perfect heart-warming read full of festive magic Page 30

by Sophie Claire


  ‘No,’ she said firmly, and began to walk quickly, taking a left off the High Street because it would be quieter on the back roads. She’d seen Suzie’s eyes widen with curiosity at the sight of Luc, and Natasha didn’t want anyone else to see her with him. ‘It would be a lie. I won’t do it.’

  ‘My father is seriously ill and this is his wish – what am I supposed to tell him?’

  ‘How about you tell him the truth?’

  It wasn’t far to her flat, just a couple of hundred yards, but today it seemed like miles. Her sandals tapped quickly along the pavement, but her pace didn’t seem to bother him and it irritated her that he kept up effortlessly with his long strides.

  ‘That our marriage lasted three months and we applied for a divorce as soon as was legally possible?’ His tone was biting. Vicious. ‘The truth would kill him. He’s hanging on to life by a thread.’

  She tried to ignore the guilt which she knew he’d intended her to feel. ‘Then stall. Play for time. Tell him … I’m travelling.’

  ‘How do you think I’ve explained your absence until now?’ He sighed and raked the hair back from his eyes. ‘We don’t know how long he has left. He wants to meet you.’

  She stopped beside a red letterbox and planted her hands on her hips. ‘Why?’

  ‘He wants to know who I married. He wants to see for himself that I am happy.’

  She snorted. ‘Well that’s asking the impossible! Even if I came with you to France, we couldn’t pretend to be a happily married couple if we tried.’

  ‘We could.’ His tone was resolute, his expression determined.

  And a shiver touched her spine because Luc was renowned for his determination. What he wanted, he always got. Like a bulldozer, once on course, he was difficult to block.

  Turning, she set off again. How did he manage to make her feel so churned up? For heaven’s sake, shouldn’t their divorce have made her immune to him?

  He blew out a long breath. ‘Listen, if there’s something you want – anything – I will pay for it. In return for your time.’

  She flinched and glared at him. ‘You always thought money was what motivated me, didn’t you? Well you were wrong, Luc. Then and now. I have everything I need already.’

  She thought of her shop and the friends she’d made here in the village. She was part of this community now; she belonged. There was only one thing which might possibly make things even more perfect, but she wasn’t about to tell her ex, whom she hadn’t seen for three years, about that. It was nothing to do with him, her private dream. Her fingers automatically reached inside her pocket, checking for her phone as she thought of the call she was expecting.

  ‘Then you’re lucky,’ he said flatly.

  They reached her flat and she stopped. ‘Yes, I am. Or maybe I don’t want for much. Not the things money can buy, anyway.’

  She marched up the steps to her door on the first floor, thinking she was settled now, but it hadn’t always been like this. After their brief marriage, it had taken her months to get her life back on track. He had no right to come barging into her life, demanding favours of her. She owed him nothing. Nothing at all.

  She opened the door and turned to face him one last time. ‘I’m not doing it, Luc.’

  ‘Natasha –’

  Shaking her head, she waved away his protest. ‘I’m very sorry about your father – and for what you’re going through right now, but I can’t help you.’

  She went in and was tempted to say goodbye then push the door firmly shut on him and the tornado of emotions which was spinning through her – but he reached his arm out, holding the door open.

  ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

  She couldn’t believe he’d even ask. And the thought of his tall figure filling her tiny flat, of being alone with him in such a private place made her skin tingle. It went against the grain to be so rude, but to let him in would be too … intimate. She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘I’ve come all this way – and we haven’t seen each other in a long time. Let me buy you dinner, at least.’

  ‘So we can catch up?’ she asked dryly. ‘Reminisce on old times?’

  ‘So we can catch up, yes.’

  She realised how bitter she sounded and regretted her words. She shouldn’t be so affected by him; after all, she had long since got over him, hadn’t she? She looked at her watch. He had driven a long way to get here, and it would be rude to send him packing without so much as offering him a cup of tea.

  ‘We could go to the pub,’ she said. ‘The Dog and Partridge is just down the road. They do good food.’ She’d hoped they wouldn’t be seen, but perhaps being surrounded by other people would calm her jittery nerves and the tingling in her blood which had started the moment he’d walked into the shop.

  He nodded. ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘But don’t think this is another chance to persuade me,’ she warned as they set off again, ‘because I won’t change my mind.’

  ‘I just want to eat and spend a little time with you,’ he said quietly.

  Thankfully the Dog and Partridge was busy and, maybe it was silly, but she was reassured to see friendly faces all around. Gary the landlord greeted her and, when he cast Luc a curious look, Natasha introduced him. ‘This is Luc. He’s –’ she hesitated, ‘– an old friend.’

  ‘Friend?’ Luc shot her a fierce look. ‘We were married.’

  Her cheeks burned as Gary, wide-eyed, turned to her and said; ‘I didn’t know you’d been married before. You dark horse.’

  ‘Yes, well. We all make mistakes,’ she said, darting Luc a sideways glance. But his expression remained grim. This wasn’t the time to make jokes, she told herself; not when he was clearly worried sick about his father.

  They got their drinks and ordered food, and Luc produced his wallet. He handed Gary a couple of notes, but Natasha shook her head.

  ‘I’m perfectly capable of buying my own drink,’ she said, pulling out her purse.

  Her ears still stung as she remembered how, just after their wedding, he’d told her, I suppose you’ll want your own credit card now you’re my wife. From the moment they’d been married he’d behaved as if she were some kind of parasite, out to leach him of his wealth.

  ‘No,’ said Luc. ‘This was my idea.’

  ‘Tell you what. We’ll each buy our own.’

  His nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘And have to split the bill in half? I don’t think so.’

  Her chin went up. ‘Then I’ll leave now. I pay my own way, Luc. I don’t want anything from you.’

  His phone rang and he scrabbled to answer it. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, his accent suddenly pronounced. ‘This might be important.’

  He walked away, his phone to his ear, and Natasha handed a note to Gary, who was still a little wide-eyed from watching them.

  ‘He really presses your buttons, doesn’t he? I’ve never seen you like this before, Natasha.’

  She blushed. Luc didn’t bring out the best in her. But then, how many ex-husbands did? ‘He’s only here because he wants my help,’ she said. Then added quietly, ‘But he’s not going to get it.’

  She carried their drinks over to a small table beside the window and sat down, then checked her own phone. There were no missed calls, but she was expecting a call so she left it out on the table because the pub was noisy, and she couldn’t be sure she’d hear if it rang. A few moments later, Luc joined her.

  ‘Everything all right?’ she asked, taking a sip of her lemonade.

  He nodded. ‘That was my sister. She’s at the hospital – there’s been no change.’

  He lifted the pint of beer to his lips and his throat worked as he swallowed. His coffee-brown eyes were clouded as he gazed out of the window, his mind evidently elsewhere.

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