Make My Wish Come True

by Fiona Harper

  ‘We’ve both got things to face up to,’ she said, looking into those beautiful brown eyes. ‘I need to learn to keep “letting go”, and you need to go and make peace with your family. You need to go home and let them see the wonderful man you’ve grown into, remind them that you’re not the naughty little boy they all remember.’

  He stood up and left her sitting on the seat, walked over to the far bench and stared out over the sea.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, and rose to go and lay a hand on his arm. ‘I didn’t mean to stick my nose in.’

  He didn’t turn, just kept staring at the shifting blue water beyond the boat, and she saw the muscles in the corner of his jaw tighten. ‘You are too generous to me, Juliet. Maybe I deserve my family’s judgement.’

  That was a strange thing to say. She walked over to him, smoothed her palm across his face, made him look at her. ‘I don’t believe that, and neither should you.’

  He’d been avoiding direct eye contact for a while, but now he stared right back at her, his warm brown eyes only inches from her own.

  She smiled at him. ‘So I think we should make a vow...’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘A vow?’

  She nodded, still smiling. ‘Yes, a solemn Christmas vow.’

  He caught the joke and the corners of his mouth lifted. ‘Which is...?’

  ‘I will promise not to make Christmas too special next year, if you promise to go and spend it with your family.’

  ‘Can you make Christmas too special?’

  ‘Yes, I think you can,’ she said honestly.

  He smiled properly then. ‘So...why don’t you stop trying and let me make Christmas special for you this year?’ he whispered into her ear.

  That could definitely work for Juliet, especially when she thought about all the things Marco had already given her, little gifts that she’d hardly noticed at the time, but was now starting to realise the value of. He told her she was beautiful and surprising and unusual, and when she was with him she believed those things herself.

  She twisted to kiss him properly, deeply. ‘I think you already have,’ she whispered back, as she wound her arms around his neck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE ECLECTIC ASSEMBLY OF family and friends were in Juliet’s dining room. Even though the table extended, it had been a bit of a squeeze for twelve, and they’d run out of chairs, but the twins were happy on garden chairs and Polly said the tapestry-covered piano stool looked like a throne, and was happy to perch regally on top of it. Nobody seemed to mind that they were all elbow to elbow with each other as they gazed with saliva-filled mouths at the array of different dishes before them.

  Not quite the spread the Juliet would have put on, but Gemma was sure that none of them would ever forget it. Even Aunt Sylvia, who’d been slightly confused as to where she was when the minibus from Greenacres had dropped her off, was now smiling with a red tissue paper hat perched jauntily on her head.

  ‘Dig in!’ Gemma said, as she disappeared back into the kitchen to get one last dish. From the sounds of clinking cutlery and crockery as she left the room, no one was standing on ceremony. She liked that.

  When she returned, she placed a small serving dish near Will’s plate.

  He stopped helping himself to roast potatoes and looked up at her. She nodded and nudged the dish a little closer, even though the sight of the small round, green vegetables made her want to gag.

  ‘But I thought you said you couldn’t get any Brussels sprouts, not for love nor money,’ he said with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

  ‘I was wrong about the love bit. It seems Doris has an admirer with an allotment.’

  ‘And you cooked them. For me?’

  She shrugged carelessly. ‘It’s only a little dish. Like I said, everybody else hates them. Even Doris.’ She turned and headed for the other end of the table, but she could feel him smiling at her all the way back to her seat.

  There was lots of noise and laughter, a few minor squabbles, and plenty of toasting and well-wishing as they got through their unconventional Christmas lunch. Halfway through, Gemma put a knife and fork down and sat back and smiled. It had been a wonderful day so far. Jake and Josh thought Uncle Tony was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. They laughed like drains at his stupid jokes and loved it when he pretended to pinch their noses and run away with them. Even Wanda couldn’t help smiling watching the fun.

  Doris and Polly had been thick as thieves, talking about history and books and science experiments. It turned out that the old lady had once been a primary school teacher, and Polly was using the opportunity to soak up as much knowledge as she could. And Doris was very good at letting her do it, while still giving Polly the opportunity to shine and show what a clever girl she was.

  Violet, meanwhile, had perked up a little and had been chatting to Birgit and Trine about fashion and make up and who should really have won X-Factor that year.

  And then there was Will.

  Will, who always seemed to be looking in her direction when she glanced his way. Will, who she really shouldn’t have been aware of every second of the afternoon, even when she’d been trying to ignore him, trying to pretend the buzz in her veins was solely down to the champagne.

  They finally waddled away from the table an hour or so later, and the adults flopped onto sofas and armchairs, while the younger kids disappeared to play with their new toys. Gemma positioned herself next to her aunt. ‘Did you enjoy the dinner, Auntie Syl?’

  Sylvia nodded, and then she looked around the room. ‘Where’s Juliet?’

  Gemma started. That was the first time she’d heard her aunt utter her sister’s name since last Easter. She squashed down her surprise and replied, ‘She’s having a bit of a holiday.’ She decided not to elaborate more, thinking that Auntie Sylvia would only get confused.

  Sylvia nodded. ‘In Broadstairs? I really like Broadstairs.’

  Gemma shook her head. ‘No, not Broadstairs. She’s gone to St Lucia.’

  Her aunt sniffed. ‘I bet they don’t have that lovely pink and white rock in St Lucia.’

  Gemma couldn’t help smiling. ‘No, I don’t suppose they do.’

  The boys ran into the room at that moment, apparently in some kind of epic do-or-die battle between the toy robots that Juliet had got them for Christmas. They charged around making laser-gun noises and then raced out of the room again. Aunt Sylvia didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she smiled fondly after them.

  ‘I do like boys with a bit of spirit,’ she said. ‘Your boys are fine young men. In fact, all your children are lovely.’

  Gemma shook her head and corrected her aunt with a tinge of sadness in her voice. ‘They’re not my children.’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ Sylvia said, sitting up straighter. ‘Of course they are!’ And she frowned quite fiercely at Gemma for a few moments before her focus softened and she stared off into the distance. When she came back into the present from wherever she’d been, she leaned over and patted Gemma’s hand. ‘You’re a good girl, so full of love.’

  Gemma swallowed. Her aunt might have got the name right, but it wasn’t her she was talking about. People didn’t describe her as full of love. Full of fun, maybe. Full of life. Occasionally someone had told her she was full of crap. And usually that someone had been Will Truman. But she reckoned she’d forgiven him for that now.

  ‘You just make sure you don’t get things out of balance and forget to look after yourself, too,’ Sylvia said, nodding to herself. ‘Love is like Christmas, Juliet... You have to learn to receive as well as give.’

  Gemma leaned forward and kissed her aunt and her papery cheek. ‘Wise words, Auntie Syl. Wise words.’

  And she sat back in her armchair and pondered them.

  Juliet did give too much sometimes. And Gemma had only been too
happy to take what her sister had offered, never once stopping to wonder if the scales were always tipped in her favour, if the equation was out of balance.

  She’d wondered again and again as she’d gone through Juliet’s notebook why her sister went to such lengths to make Christmas—to make life—perfect. And now she thought she might have her answer.

  She and her sister were both capable of ingenuity and organisation, of generosity and creativity, but she did it so she could take her pay cheque home at the end of the month. But Juliet? Juliet did it for the people she loved.

  * * *

  GEMMA LOOKED AT THE assorted bodies lolling around Juliet’s living room as the credits on a Harry Potter film rolled. The post-lunch crash had come to an end and now they were beginning to stir. Gemma was instantly on her feet.

  ‘I promised Juliet I would try to do all the things in her Christmas notebook,’ she explained to the half-dozing crowd. ‘And it is very clear, here on page thirteen...’ She picked up the book from a small table beside her and flicked it open ‘...that the after-dinner entertainment should involve games, specifically charades.’

  There was an apathetic groan from those who were still awake, and a small, snuffling noise from Uncle Tony.

  ‘No, no... Don’t be like that! It’ll be fun. Juliet’s done all the cards with the films and TV shows and book titles on already. Falling asleep in front of the film wasn’t exactly on Juliet’s timetable, and some of us have had a nice long snooze...’ She paused to look pointedly at the major culprits. ‘So what do you say?’

  Doris, who was sitting down the other end of the sofa from Uncle Tony and Wanda sat up straighter. ‘I think a nice game of charades would be lovely.’

  Gemma grinned back at her and removed a stack of neatly written index cards from inside her notebook. The adults seemed less than enthused, and the twins, who’d been draped over big cushions on the floor while the film had been rolling, just stuck their legs in the air and refused to move, but Gemma started working on them one by one, talking them into it, jollying them along, and soon they had two teams organised who were not only tolerating the activity but starting to look forward to it.

  She split them into teams of two and three to act out titles and phrases for the others to guess. When squabbles arose, she adjudicated them. When the kids struggled, she whispered in their ears to give them ideas. And when Uncle Tony got a little too ‘hands-on’ with some of his acting, she deftly slipped out of reach, smiling through gritted teeth. The grope-factor had definitely increased with the amount of alcohol consumed.

  They broke for refreshments halfway through the pack of index cards. She refilled the kids’ glasses with lemonade, popping colourful curly straws in that she’d bought for their Christmas stockings, and looked up to find Will standing nearby.

  ‘Are you okay with him?’ he asked, nodding towards Tony, who’d sprawled back on the sofa with Wanda and was trying to worm his way back into her affections. ‘I can have a word, if you’d like—man to man.’

  Gemma put the glass she’d been filling down and looked at him. ‘Nah... I can handle the likes of him...hardly notice I’m doing it. In my line of work it’s a bit of an occupational hazard.’

  ‘I can believe that,’ he said, looking straight at her. ‘After the last few days, I’d believe you could handle anything.’

  She let out a dry laugh. ‘Have you had too much of the Christmas sherry? The last few days have been an unmitigated disaster!’

  He did that crinkly warm thing with his eyes again. ‘No, they haven’t. There have been plenty of hiccups, yes, but you’ve dealt with every single one, and today you’ve done everything with a smile on your face and an encouraging word for everyone. You even put up with that old lech...’ he nodded in the direction of the sofa ‘—without smacking him round the chops.’

  Gemma bit down on her lip to stop herself smiling. ‘I really would like to smack him round the chops,’ she admitted, and Will’s mouth curved into the smile his eyes had been promising. ‘But he’s Juliet’s guest really, and after today I am making a point of never seeing him ever again.’

  ‘I don’t blame you. But what I was trying to say before we got sidetracked into talking about over-friendly uncles was that today has been amazing and that was down to you.’ He stopped smiling and looked rather more serious. ‘You have been amazing.’

  Gemma’s heart did a double kick then settled down into an uneven rhythm. She felt her cheeks get warmer. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. And then, because she didn’t really know what else to say, she just stared back at him.

  Oh, hell. This was really not a good idea.

  Not only was this Juliet’s guy—well, not really Juliet’s actual guy, but at the very least someone she’d bookmarked for later—but he didn’t want a girl like her.

  Thankfully, the driver of the Greenacres minibus rang the doorbell at that moment, saving her from doing anything stupid.

  She very gently woke her aunt and explained it was time to go, then helped Sylvia into her coat and walked her to the front door. Sylvia kissed her cheek then patted it with a bony hand. ‘Don’t you forget what I said,’ she said, with a twinkle in her eye.

  ‘I won’t, Auntie Syl.’

  ‘Give and take, Gemma. Give and take.’

  As she waved off her aunt, Tony also appeared in the hallway with Wanda in tow. ‘We’d better make a move too,’ he said. ‘Long drive and all that.’

  Wanda threw her arms around Gemma and squeezed hard, making Gemma’s eyes widen. Will was standing in the doorway watching the proceedings and they shared a conspiratorial smile as she looked at him over Wanda’s shoulder.

  ‘It was lovely to be part of such a happy family Christmas,’ Wanda said. That must have been the longest sentence she’d come out with all day, and no one would have guessed the truth of her words from her poker-straight expression.

  Gemma pulled back and smiled at her. ‘Yes, it has, hasn’t it?’ And then she hugged Wanda again, this time squeezing back.

  Tony patted Wanda’s bum. ‘Why don’t you go in get settled in the car, honey? You can pick a CD to listen to, if you like. I’ll say my goodbyes and be along in a second.’

  Birgit and Trine also came to take their leave, thanking her profusely and offering to babysit for the kids if she needed them in the next week. Gemma was so busy hugging them goodbye, and agreeing that she’d visit either them or their families if her job ever took her to Denmark or Germany, that she wasn’t paying any attention to Tony, who was waiting patiently for his turn.

  She waved off the au pairs then turned round, ready to give him a goodbye hug, and more than ready to shove him out the door and shut it behind him, but instead of moving towards her, he just held his arms out wide and waited for her. It was only as she was walking into his embrace that she saw his eyes dart upwards and realised what he was up to.

  She’d totally forgotten about the bunch of mistletoe Juliet had hung from the hall light fitting. Darn. It was going to be so much harder to slip out of this gracefully now they were actually hugging than if she’d anticipated his little manoeuvre and just steered clear. She really didn’t want to punch a relation on Christmas Day, not if she could help it.

  ‘Oh, look,’ Tony said innocently, as he and Gemma pulled back from the hug.

  But before he could form an observation about the bit of Christmas greenery they above their heads, Will cut in between them, sliding an arm possessively around her waist. ‘Wanda’s waiting for you,’ he said to Tony, his tone friendly, his eyes not, and he drew Gemma a little closer. ‘Besides, I think it’s my turn.’

  Tony frowned and started to say something, but Will just smiled and waved goodbye. In the end, the older man mumbled his farewells and sloped off to join his girlfriend in the car.

  They watched him leave together, Mrs Waterman and the ch
ildren looking on from the living-room door, and all the while Gemma could feel the heat from Will’s arm burning through the back of her blouse. She tried to ignore it.

  She knew what had happened. Will’s damsel-in-distress radar had kicked in again, and for once she’d been grateful for it. ‘Thanks,’ she said a little shakily. ‘He almost caught me out that time.’

  ‘No problem,’ Will said, looking back down at her.

  But he didn’t let go, and she didn’t move either.

  It would look odd if they broke apart now, wouldn’t it? They’d better follow through, even if it really was only for show.

  It seemed the same idea had flashed across Will’s mind, because instead of stepping away and releasing her, he bent forward and pressed a soft but firm kiss to her lips.

  Gemma should have left it there, really. She should have let it be a quick, brief peck and then they could have returned to business as normal. She really shouldn’t have leaned in and softened against him the way she had. And when he lingered just that little bit, she probably shouldn’t have sighed at the back of her throat, either, but she just couldn’t help herself.

  Thankfully, Will had the control she lacked, because after a second or so he pulled away abruptly, muttered something under his breath and then strode off in the direction of the kitchen. She turned to find her audience still watching her.

  Mrs Waterman gave her a little tilt of her head and Violet was beaming. Josh and Jake were pulling identical faces. ‘Yuck,’ Jake said.

  ‘Yuck, yourself,’ Gemma replied, pushing past them. ‘Now, who wants another round of charades?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE MOST EXCLUSIVE RESTAURANT at Pelican’s Reach sat on top of a steep hill, looking down over the whole resort. The large terrace jutted out over the incline and Juliet felt as if she was floating, suspended high above Pelican Bay with nothing to tether her to land or sky. Looking up from down below, the hill didn’t seem that high, but from up here the beach was a tiny pale crescent against the blue of the sea and the velvet sky. The surf whispered in the distance, mostly drowned out by the chirruping of various night insects and the classical music that wove its way through the tables and out into the night air.