The Baby Who Saved Christmas

by Alison Roberts

  And Alice looked as excited by it all as Colette had been when she’d still been a small child of about seven or eight. Those brown eyes that had captured him from the moment he’d seen them produce tears in André’s office that first day were shining with joy now and Julien felt his chest expand with his own pleasure in having chosen this experience as his gift for her last day here.

  That she was here with her baby brother in her arms made it even more special.

  ‘Stand here, so that the Ferris wheel and the Christmas trees are behind you. I will take a photo for you.’

  He would keep a copy of that photograph himself. If the sadness from the past tried to suck him back, he would be able to look at that smile and remember his Scottish pixie, who could always find something to celebrate.

  He was missing Alice already. How stupid was that?

  Would she miss him? Would she remember this time with him? Maybe a memento would help. A gift from one of the stalls perhaps?

  Alice had turned to watch the Ferris wheel. Or was she watching the people on the skating rink? It was a colourful scene. There were coloured lights around the edges of the rink and overhead. Many people were dressed in Christmas shades of bright red and green and most of them were wearing Santa hats or reindeer horns. The people closest to them right now were a man and a woman who were holding the mittened hands of a small boy as he wobbled on his skates between them. A family, enjoying a Christmas outing. If she could have what she was wishing for, Julien thought, that could be Alice in a few years’ time, with the father figure she chose to share her life with as she raised her baby brother.

  The thought sat uneasily. He didn’t want to imagine Alice with another man but it was inevitable, wasn’t it? What man could resist those eyes? That spirit of optimism or that generosity as a lover? And it was no more than she deserved—to find that man and have babies of her own to cherish. He had no right to feel the way he did. Resentful almost?

  Julien shook off the unwelcome train of his thoughts. He was here to give Alice a happy memory of France. He went to take her hand so that he could lead her towards the stalls and find a gift but her hands were busy, adjusting the straps of the front pack.

  ‘Is it heavy? Would you like me to take him for a while?’

  There was surprise in her eyes. And then something he couldn’t identify but it looked curiously like satisfaction.

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said. ‘Merci beaucoup, Julien.’

  * * *

  It felt completely natural to take Julien’s hand, once the front pack was securely in place and his hands were free. There was so much to look at as they wove their way slowly through the crowds, admiring the goods on offer at the stalls, but Alice kept looking sideways.

  Was there anything more appealing than the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man with a tiny baby on his chest?

  And when you loved them both, was there anything that could make you feel more like your heart was so full it might simply break from joy?

  She needed to find something else to look at before that joy escaped as tears.

  ‘Oh, look...those hats have sparkles. Aren’t they pretty?’

  They were only woollen hats but they had large diamantes glued all over them and soft, furry pompoms on the top.

  ‘Would you like one?’ There was a furrow just visible under Julien’s hat. ‘I hadn’t noticed that you didn’t have a hat. Are your ears cold?’

  ‘No, but I would love a hat anyway.’ As much as she loved the concern in his voice and the idea that he cared if her ears were cold or not. ‘The sparkle would always remind me of where it came from and when.’

  ‘What colour would you like?’

  ‘Black.’ There was no hesitation on Alice’s part. It would match Julien’s hat but with a bonus. ‘It makes the sparkles stand out more.’

  Julien spoke to the woman running the stall and money changed hands. Instead of having the hat put into a bag, he put it on Alice’s head, tucking her hair back from her face. Then he touched her nose with his finger.

  ‘Très mignon,’ he pronounced. ‘Very cute. Tout comme tu.’

  The stall owner said something then and Alice saw the warmth in his eyes vanish.

  She nudged Julien. ‘What did she say?’

  He shook his head, turning away. Confused, Alice glanced back at the woman. Her confusion was being reflected back at her and the woman raised her hands in a puzzled gesture.

  ‘I say only that he has a beautiful wife and the most beautiful baby in the world.’

  Oh... That would have been a shock to a man who was a lone wolf and had decided long ago that he would never have a child of his own. No wonder the pleasure of this outing began to fade. When Jacquot finally woke a short time later and let them know he was hungry and needed changing, it was obvious that Julien was relieved to hand the baby back to Alice.

  And the spell was broken. Even the lights and music and the crowd of happy people couldn’t fix what had been broken and it was Alice’s turn to feel relieved when Julien suggested it was time to go back to the house.

  They drove back in Julien’s car in silence and he used a remote to open those extraordinarily ornate gates that had been Alice’s first glimpse of this property.

  It was only the second time she had passed through these gates into her father’s estate. The first had been nearly a week ago but it felt like for ever because of how it had changed her life.

  It felt like yesterday, too, because that time was etched into her memory for ever. She’d been so hopeful on her arrival but nervous as well. There’d been the media crowd to get through, helicopters hovering overhead and a grim man who’d met her at the door.

  How different things were now. The media had given up and gone. There were no helicopters and she’d seen through the grimness that Julien had been wearing like a cloak to cover the vulnerability of a man who was capable of loving greatly but only felt safe to pour that passion into his work.

  A man she had utterly fallen in love with.

  But she felt far more nervous than she had that first time she’d been escorted up this driveway because there was a car parked on the curve of the driveway where it looped past the front doors to the mansion. A huge, gleaming black car. The kind that a very wealthy woman might be chauffeured to her desired destination in. The chauffeur was still sitting in the car but the back seat was empty.

  Madame Laurent had clearly arrived and must have had a key to her son’s house. She was waiting for them inside.

  The nerves were there because Alice knew that this perfect day was almost over. That—very soon—she might have to say goodbye to both the man and baby she loved so much.

  But the woman waiting for them was also the grandmother she had never met.

  There was still a glimmer of hope.

  CHAPTER TEN

  YVONNE LAURENT WAS a perfect example of aristocratic elegance.

  A tall, slim woman with beautifully coiffed silver hair and expertly applied make-up, she was wearing a twin set and pearls beneath the jacket and skirt of a tailored suit.

  Alice was still wearing her forest-green jumper over one of the two shirts she’d been washing out every day and the jeans that were probably overdue for a wash were tucked into boots that had been getting a little more scuffed every day. And she had a silly hat with a pompom and sparkles on her head.

  The visitor awaiting their arrival in the foyer barely gave her—or Jacquot—a second glance.

  ‘Bonjour, Julien.’ Her voice was as measured and controlled as her appearance but Alice understood nothing more than the greeting as a rapid conversation followed the polite kissing on each cheek. Julien ushered the older woman into the drawing room opposite the entrance to the grand salon and then turned back to Alice.

  ‘She thinks you’re a nanny
,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I will explain why you are really here but it may be best if you take the little one up to the nursery in the meantime.’

  Her nod of acquiescence was stiff. She could excuse the lack of interest in someone thought to be no more than hired help but she had this woman’s grandchild cuddled against her chest and Madame Laurent had made no effort to try and see the baby’s face. And this was supposed to be her precious grandchild that she was determined to care for?

  The hope that she might welcome an adult granddaughter was evaporating. It was a relief to go upstairs. To change Jacquot and hold him in her arms while she fed him his bottle. To sing to him softly as she tucked him into his cot for what was possibly going to be the last time.

  To wait. It felt like her future was lying in the hands of others but there was nothing she could do but wait.

  And hope...

  * * *

  ‘Madame Laurent... I’m sorry that it has taken circumstances like this to meet you.’

  She’d been at Colette’s funeral, of course, but she’d been by André’s side and Julien had kept his distance. He hadn’t been welcome. At his own sister’s funeral...

  He couldn’t afford to let any bitterness loose right now, however. And they were both dealing with the grief of losing a loved one. Surely that gave them a connection that would allow persuasion rather than threats—as Alice had suggested?

  ‘I realise that this is a difficult time for you,’ he said quietly. ‘I am truly sorry for your loss, madame.’

  The pale blue eyes he was looking into filled with tears. Yvonne Laurent lowered herself onto the overstuffed cushion of a small couch and opened her handbag to extract an embroidered handkerchief that she pressed to a corner of one eye and then the other. Finally, she spoke.

  ‘My grandson is the only family I have left in the world.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Julien sat on the edge of another couch, facing her. This certainly wasn’t the time to tell her that she was wrong. That she actually had another grandchild.

  ‘It is the same for me, madame. Which is why I hope we can find agreement to keep him safe. Cared for. Loved...’ The last word brought another echo of Alice’s voice to the back of his mind. It felt like she was here in the room with him and it made it all the more important to make this work.

  Even Madame Laurent’s sniff was elegant. This time she pressed the handkerchief to her nose.

  ‘That is exactly what I will do for Jacques. I am the one who can care for an infant. You...you have important work that must keep you extremely busy. You would not have the time for such a young child.’

  Julien stiffened. He could make time, if he had to.

  ‘You are a national icon, Julien.’ Yvonne looked up to meet his gaze and her smile was poignant. ‘My son was also. I understand the kind of pressure that goes with such a status.’ When she blinked, her eyes glistened with tears again. ‘I adored my son. I will give the same love and attention to my beloved grandson. I will provide the best nannies. Find the best schools.’

  Julien dipped his head in acknowledgment. He could well believe that no money would be spared in providing for Jacquot but that wasn’t the point.

  ‘He’s my nephew. My sister’s child. I want to be part of his life.’

  ‘Of course...’ There was empathy in her tone now. ‘I understand how important that is. I know there were...ah...difficulties in your relationship with my son but that is of little consequence now. This is about what is best for Jacques, is it not?’

  ‘Yes.’ Julien hadn’t expected Madame Laurent to be so accommodating. He found himself smiling at her.

  ‘I am not a young woman,’ she said. ‘While I can, of course I wish to provide a home for my grandson but I know there will come a time when he needs more than a safe nursery. A time when he needs a father figure. A time...’ her indrawn breath was shaky ‘...when I will not be here to help him.’

  ‘I want him to know who I am. I want to be part of his life.’

  Madame Laurent tilted her head. ‘You may visit whenever your schedule makes it possible. You will be made welcome at my estate.’

  ‘And if anything happens to make it impossible for you to care for him?’

  ‘I hope that will not be for a long time but, in that event, your guardianship will take priority.’ Yvonne Laurent tucked her handkerchief back into her handbag. She got to her feet. ‘If you’re happy, I will have all of this documented by my solicitors and will bring the papers with me tomorrow when I come to collect my grandson.’

  Happy? He should be. Madame Laurent had just agreed to everything he’d been trying to win when he’d come here in the first place. More, even. To be assigned indisputable guardianship of Jacquot if it became necessary in the future was an insurance policy that made this better than he could have hoped. But something was stopping any personal celebration and he knew what that something was.

  Alice.

  ‘Before you go, madame, there is something I should tell you about.’

  ‘Oh...?’

  ‘You have more than your grandson here in this house.’ Julien took a deep breath. ‘You also have a granddaughter.’

  Madame Laurent stared at him. ‘Non...c’est impossible...’

  * * *

  Alice felt like she’d been waiting for ever.

  Had Julien told Madame Laurent that she now had two grandchildren? Should she go downstairs? Brushing her hair, Alice wished she had packed some more clothes other than a spare shirt and clean underwear for this trip. Not that she owned anything like a power suit herself but why hadn’t she thought to include a dress? Because she hadn’t thought to present anything other than who she really was when she’d come in search of her father and that how the package was wrapped was of no importance?

  Julien had seen through her lack of designer wear and sophistication. Or had he? If she had simply been a diversion from the boredom of being confined, it wouldn’t have mattered what she looked like. Considering her an acceptable companion in the kind of world he normally inhabited might be a very different matter, especially if the people in that world were anything like Madame Laurent. And if they were, a tiny voice whispered, would she even want to be there?

  It needed every ounce of her courage to make the decision to go downstairs. Alice retrieved the photograph of her parents from her backpack, pushing aside the memory of how Julien had initially dismissed this evidence of her mother’s relationship with André. The DNA test had been done and there could be no dismissal now. She hesitated a few moments more, however, checking—as she always did—that the baby cam was on and working before leaving the nursery.

  But she didn’t even get as far as the door because it was blocked by someone coming in.

  Madame Laurent.

  ‘Miss McMillan, it appears that you have a very unexpected connection with the Laurent family.’

  Her English was so perfect it had virtually no accent and it made Alice realise how much she loved the way Julien spoke her language and could make it sound so much softer and almost as musical and inviting as his native tongue. How much she loved the way he said her name. It made the way this woman spoke seem so much harsher. Controlled and clipped. Cold...

  She looked past Madame Laurent’s shoulder in the hope that Julien had come upstairs as well but the doorway and the gallery beyond were empty.

  She was alone. With her grandmother.

  ‘I... I’m very happy to meet you,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m so very sorry for your loss. It’s been devastating for me to have come here too late to be able to meet my father.’

  Yvonne was staring at her but there was no more warmth in either her expression or her body language than there had been in her voice. Then her gaze ran down the length of Alice’s body, pausing as it reversed its journey.

  ‘What i
s that?’

  ‘Oh... It’s a photograph. The only one I have of my parents together. It’s what made me come here...’ It was a wonder Alice’s hand wasn’t shaking as she held it out. ‘Would you like to see?’

  The focus of this woman’s stare was unnerving.

  ‘Her name was Jeannette McMillan. She came to work here in a gap year when she was eighteen. It was where she met your son, André.’ Alice knew she was speaking too fast. Saying too much, but she needed desperately to break through what seemed an impenetrable barrier. ‘Where she fell in love...’

  Yvonne Laurent’s breath was expelled in a dismissive snort. An echo of Julien’s reaction. Was it a cultural thing to discount an extreme emotional connection? Surely not. Everybody knew that Paris was the city of love.

  ‘I remember her.’ The words dripped ice. The glance Alice received then sent a chill down her spine.

  ‘I fail to understand what went wrong. The arrangements had been made. I had paid their exorbitant fees myself so that the unfortunate pregnancy could be dealt with discreetly.’

  The mix of emotion that hit Alice was peculiar. There was anger that someone had been prepared to pay a lot of money to make sure she didn’t exist. But there was a flash of something close to joy there as well. So it hadn’t been her father who’d been the driving force in trying to get rid of her? It had been this woman. Her grandmother.

  ‘I was that pregnancy,’ she said slowly. ‘And I was loved. By my mother. And by my other grandmother.’

  Any rebuke her words held fell on deaf ears.

  The huge diamonds in her rings flashed in the soft light of the nursery as Madame Laurent smoothed her perfectly groomed hair.

  ‘I should sue that clinic,’ she said. ‘They told me the procedure had been completed. That the girl had been sent out of the country and would no longer be a problem.’