by Anna Jacobs
As she watched, he blushed. He actually blushed. Bright red. She could feel herself softening. How could you stay angry with a guy who blushed like that?
‘It was an emergency,’ he pleaded. ‘My mother and aunt aren’t sure whether I’m actually living here yet. I told them I was going away on business for a few days, but trust them to come round and check that out.’
Bianca watched him run one hand through his hair, setting the curls springing about in glorious disarray. He must be a male model! she decided.
He glanced towards the front of the house. ‘That damned car is such a giveaway and somehow I’ve got to hide out from them for five more days.’
Now she was utterly fascinated. If this was a pitch, it was a good one. But she didn’t think he was trying to chat her up. He looked genuinely worried. ‘Could I ask what exactly you’re hiding from?’
‘Christmas.’
She blinked.
He stared at her with a challenging expression. ‘I hate Christmas. It’s nothing but commercialism. There’s no real Christmas spirit left. But most of all, I hate big family parties with all the old aunts trotted out and kids screaming everywhere – not to mention the women my mother finds and parades in front of me because she’s desperate for grandchildren. Tall ones, short ones, pretty ones, even ugly ones. I don’t know where she finds them, but there’s always a new one waiting for me whenever there’s a family gathering.’
She could relate to that. Oh, boy, she could certainly relate to that. ‘Tell me about it!’
She groaned as her own troubles resurfaced. ‘My mother is just the same. I’ve not answered the phone for days without checking first who it is on the answering machine. But she’s sure to come round and catch me in one day.’ She grinned at him. ‘And actually, I hate Christmas, too.’
‘You’re a neighbour after my own heart, then. You’ll not be deafening me with carols or wrapping tinsel round the palm trees or having loud parties.’
‘I most certainly won’t.’
They stood smiling foolishly at one another for a few moments, then his smile faded and the worried expression reappeared. ‘My family are determined to get me over there for dinner on Christmas Day, and if I know my mother she’ll set up a roster of cousins and sisters to keep coming round until they catch me in.’
She nodded and couldn’t help sighing. ‘I’ve got two sisters, both married with children. It makes my mother twitchy about me. They keep trying to find me another man.’
‘Another?’
‘I’m divorced.’
‘Ah. You have all my sympathy, then. I’ve not got any sisters, but I have about a million cousins, who all keep producing friends I just have to meet. The thing is, I don’t want to get married. I never have. It’s simply not my scene. Well, not yet, perhaps never. I’m having a great life without it.’
Sympathy flooded through her. ‘Don’t let them persuade you into anything you’re not sure about. I escaped from a nasty marriage two years ago, and I wouldn’t recommend it unless you find Miss Perfection – and even then you should think twice.’ She realized how thirsty she was and without thinking, asked, ‘Would you like a nice cool beer?’
‘I’d kill for one. I’ve been moving boxes all day and taking delivery of furniture, and I haven’t had time to go out and stock up on booze yet.’
Just as they were going inside, the phone rang. Bianca froze. On the answering machine, her mother’s voice called out brightly, ‘I know you’re there, Bianca, and I’m warning you – if you don’t turn up on Christmas Day, we’ll come over and get you!’ There was the sound of a phone being put down.
Bianca stood staring at the answering machine in dismay. ‘They will, too,’ she whispered.
He patted her shoulder sympathetically. ‘My family do things like that, too. They’ll send someone round to winkle me out on Christmas Day, I just know they will. This is my first Christmas in Western Australia for years and I’m out of practice at avoidance tactics.’
He straightened up and a determined expression settled on his face. ‘That settles it. I’ll have to book into a hotel under a false name for a few days.’
By that time they were inside, so she went to the fridge, took out two beers and handed her fellow sufferer one. She popped hers and took a long cooling gulp from the can, then realized he was staring at her.
‘No fancy glasses or holders?’
‘I don’t let anything come between me and a cold beer on a hot day,’ she retorted.
‘You’re a woman after my own heart.’ He gulped down some of his beer with a blissful expression.
For a few minutes they sat in the air-conditioned coolness, not talking, just relaxing.
‘What do you do for a living?’ he asked after a while.
‘I’m self-employed,’ she told him. She was very proud of that. Roger had jeered at her when she’d broached the idea of starting her own business. He’d said she’d never make it, but she was doing really well. ‘I’m in IT. I train people to use software packages, small business people mainly. And I run workshops about the various software programs for small to medium companies.’
‘Hey, I’m in computers, too, but I design and build linked systems, the hardware. I’m a company man, work for a multinational.’ He grinned. ‘Well, a company bright boy, actually, so I don’t have to conform to suits and ties and that sort of stuff. I produce such lovely gizmos they put up with my little quirks. And they pay me rather well, too.’
‘What are you doing in sleepy old Perth, then? The centre of the universe it is not.’
‘We’re just opening up an office in Western Australia and a new research unit as well. I was going to settle down here for a while, but now I’m having second thoughts about that. I may have to arrange for a sudden transfer to Sydney or London.’
They spent a few minutes discussing computers, then he finished the beer and stood up. ‘I’m keeping you from your swim and I still have some boxes to unpack.’
‘It was nice to meet you, Hal. See you around.’
His smile faded. ‘Not until after Christmas, you won’t. Hell, what am I going to do? I’m sick to death of hotels. They’re full of the Christmas spirit, too.’
It was then that the idea began to blossom, a really neat idea. Smiling, she stretched out one hand to stop him leaving. ‘Wait a minute. I have an idea.’
‘Oh?’
‘About Christmas – and our mutual problems.’
‘You have?’ His eyes lit to an incandescent blue and he took an eager step towards her.
She backed off a prudent yard or two. Being close to that gorgeous body scrambled her brain. ‘This is rough thinking at the moment, right? But what gave you away was your car. And what’ll give me away is my car. So—’
He said it for her, ‘Why don’t we park in each other’s carports? We’re round the corner from each other, so the cars should stay fairly well hidden.’
She nodded.
‘Brilliant.’ Then his shoulders sagged and he shook his head. ‘They’ll knock on the door if they see any sign of life at all, trying to find out where I am. And if I leave the door unlocked again, they’ll be inside before you can blink. My mother’s pestering me for keys now, so that she can drop meals off for me. As if I haven’t learned to cook for myself after eight years away from home.’
‘My mother’s just as bad. She’d love to be able to pop in, but I told her it’s a rule of this place that we don’t give people keys – because of the security angle.’
‘Good one. I must tell mine the same thing.’ Then he grabbed her arm. ‘Hold on! I’ve just had another idea.’
‘What?’ Her question was more of a gasp than a word, what with his naked chest so close and his hand warm on her bare flesh.
‘Well, when we see someone coming, we could nip through the back gardens and answer each other’s door.’
She was beginning to nod approval, seeing what he was getting at, and without thinking she finished the idea for
him. ‘We could say we’re friends, house-sitting for the holidays while the owner is away.’
For a moment, they were both silent, contemplating the blissful image this raised.
‘Or if the other is out, we could just sort of hide next door,’ he added. ‘They can’t see the rear patios from the street.’
‘Oooh, don’t tempt me.’
‘Why shouldn’t we do it? I’m talking survival here.’
There was silence as they both thought this through.
‘Why not indeed?’ she said at last. ‘I’ve no training jobs on at this time of year, so I’ll be around most of the time.’
‘I could rig up a buzzer to call for help.’ He smiled modestly. ‘That’d be simple. As I said, I’m a whizz with electronic gizmos.’
It was the thought of her elderly Aunt Maria that did the trick. The old lady kept questioning her publicly, in the overloud voice of someone who was hard of hearing, asking when she was going to find herself another husband.
Or worse still, her mother producing yet another ‘lovely young man’ and saying things like ‘You two have got so much in common, I’m sure you’re going to get on like a house on fire.’
‘Let’s do it!’ Bianca breathed.
‘Do you think it’ll work?’
‘We can only try.’
Part Two
For the first time in years Bianca faced Christmas without fear of her mother’s matchmaking. She told her family she was going down to the country with a group of friends, while another friend house sat for her. She invented several fictitious people and casually offered the information that they included a man she was interested in.
‘Oh? Tell me about him. What’s he called? How did you meet him? How old is he?’
Her mind went blank and she could only think of, ‘His name’s Hal.’ But hey, he’d understand that if anyone would.
‘Hal who? And you haven’t answered my other questions. What’s wrong with him that you can’t bring him round to meet your family? He isn’t another Roger, is he? I never did like that husband of yours.’
Bianca knew her mother wouldn’t let the matter drop without some information. ‘He’s called Hal Crawford and he’s in IT, like me. And I’m not bringing him round yet because Aunt Maria would be giving him the third degree about what his intentions are and – you know, I don’t want to put him off.’
‘All right. Remember, you’re not getting any younger, thirty-two next year. I don’t like you going away for Christmas, though. It’s a family time. Still, if you’ve got a young man, just this once I’ll forgive you.’
Bianca’s cousin Paola rang up the next day ‘for a chat’.
‘I’m looking forward to getting together on Christmas Day.’
‘I’m going away with friends this year.’
Seething, Bianca put down the phone. Paola hadn’t rung her for months. It had to be her mother checking up on her again!
But on Christmas Eve her anger about the festive season and her interfering but well-meaning family faded as she carried in her shopping and prepared for a siege. Outwitting them was going to be fun.
Just as she was unpacking the fruit and salad, the buzzer went. For a moment, she couldn’t think what it was, then remembered and rushed out to the back in time to see Hal climbing over the fence.
‘My aunt’s here!’ he hissed.
‘Right.’ Bianca set one foot on the pole supporting the fence. With a mutter of impatience, he put his arms round her waist and lifted her up. That took the air from her lungs. What was there about his touch that did this to her? She didn’t want to react so strongly to a man. She was enjoying her freedom. Intended to go on enjoying it.
Breathing rather rapidly, she rushed into his house.
Someone was knocking at the front door and rattling it. ‘I know you’re there, Hal,’ a voice called, ‘and I’m not going away till you let me in.’
Bianca snatched a towel from the bathroom and wound it round her head as if she’d just washed her hair. Smoothing her top down over her midriff, she opened the door. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked, hiding her amusement at the look of shock on the woman’s face.
‘I’d like to see Hal. I’m his Aunt Naomi.’
‘Oh, sorry. He’s gone away for the holidays. I’m house-sitting for him.’ Bianca realized suddenly that she didn’t know exactly what tale he had spun to his mother and clamped her mouth shut, making a play of looking at her watch. ‘Look, I’m rather busy. Can I give him a message when he gets back?’
‘When exactly is he returning?’
‘After Christmas.’ Damn! They really should have synchronized stories better.
‘Then tell him we’re all expecting to see him on New Year’s Eve. Without fail!’
As she closed the door, Bianca sagged against it in relief. Phew! His family must be as bad as hers. No wonder Hal was taking serious avoidance tactics.
Two hours later it was her turn to use the buzzer to summon help. By that time, they’d spent a hilarious hour synchronizing stories, so Hal was able to get rid of her Cousin Gina without blowing their cover.
‘This is fun!’ she said as they met at the fence on the way back to their own houses.
‘You’re right, Bianca.’ He helped her climb over, paused for a moment before he let her go, then shook his head and stepped quickly backwards.
Oooh! she thought as she went indoors. Men didn’t come in any more tempting packages. Good job she was now fireproof against them.
Well, sort of fireproof. Just because she didn’t want to get married again didn’t mean she had to stay celibate, did it? Then she frowned. She’d never been into casual sex and she wasn’t going to start now. It had to mean something.
So did marriage. More than it had to Roger, that was sure, the rat!
Thinking of him dampened her reactions down. It always did.
Christmas Day dawned with a weather forecast of a ‘century’, a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, old style. Hot sun beat down from another cloudless sky. Bianca went for an early swim then took cover inside her house. At ten o’clock the buzzer sounded and a minute later Hal climbed over the fence, a harassed look on his face.
When she got back from sending one of his cousins away – boy, his mother must be the suspicious type! – he was sprawled in one of her patio chairs looking as if he belonged there.
Temptation whispered in her ear and she gave in to it. ‘What are you doing for a meal today?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve bought a steak.’
‘Do you want to bring it over and join me in a barbecue? Nothing fancy, but I’m obviously not going to dare set foot outside today.’
He gave her a long cool glance, then smiled. ‘I’d really like that. I confess I wasn’t looking forward to being totally alone. I’ve got a bottle of very good champagne and a box of decadent home-made chocolates that are just meant to be shared with a friend.’
When he named the brand of chocolates, she licked her lips. Her favourites. ‘I’m your slave for life! Why don’t you come round about twelve?’
‘That would be perfect.’
As he climbed back over the fence, she stood and admired the play of taut muscles, then hurriedly turned away before he could catch her staring.
Humming, she went into the bedroom to put on the new summery dress she’d bought a couple of weeks ago. She’d been looking for an excuse to wear it.
He turned up dressed in casual navy shorts and a white top, which looked brilliant with his tanned skin.
The day just got better from then on. As they both worked in the same industry, they found a lot to talk about. But more importantly, they chatted like old friends, enjoying comfortable silences as well as lively exchanges of opinions.
Later, they watched TV together. She enjoyed his sharp mind and his gentle wit, and they even liked the same sorts of programmes.
She had never felt such instant rapport with anyone. And that was beginning to worry her, so she made sure he left at ten
o’clock by claiming to be tired.
He didn’t try to argue or kiss her, but looked at her shrewdly and nodded. ‘Very sensible.’
They didn’t see each other again till after Christmas, because they were both spending Boxing Day with friends.
And a good thing, too!
Wasn’t it?
On the day before New Year’s Eve, she bumped into Hal at the local supermarket. ‘Hi there! How’s it going?’ she asked brightly, determined to keep the conversation brief.
He shrugged. ‘Christmas was fine, but my mother’s insisting on my going round tomorrow to the family party. Big fuss if I don’t. And if only she’d lay off the matchmaking, I’d love to catch up with everyone. But she won’t. My cousin’s already warned me that she’s found a new female to toss at me – a librarian who goes to her church.’ He sighed.
Her heart went out to him. ‘My mother’s the same. Only with her it’s New Year’s Day. If I don’t turn up then, they’ll murder me. And she’s got a cousin with an eligible son visiting from Italy. She has too many cousins, my mother does.’
They pushed their trolleys along in single file for the length of an aisle, both stopping at the fruit displays.
He picked up a bunch of bananas, studied it intently, then shot a quick glance sideways at her. ‘You – um – wouldn’t consider coming with me tomorrow night, would you? My mother puts on a great feast and I think you’d enjoy yourself. And you’d be excellent protection. I’ll do the same for you the day after, if you like.’
‘Hmm.’ It was dangerous. He was too attractive. But she wasn’t looking forward to spending New Year’s Eve on her own, so in the end she shrugged. ‘Why not?’
‘You mean, you will come?’ His face brightened instantly.
‘I said so, didn’t I?’
They finished shopping. ‘You’d better come round and tell me the details!’ she called as they stopped at her car. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘You’re an angel.’ He walked off whistling.
He came over the back fence again. She was getting used to seeing him do that. Far too used to it.