An Aussie Christmas Angel

by Clare Revell

  He also wanted to walk from Bondi beach to Coogee as the guidebook suggested. Maybe he’d do that later in the week when it was supposed to get a little cooler. He was yet to find a church. Maybe the hostel could suggest something.

  Slowly walking back to the hostel, he noticed how the area had changed in the few hours he’d been gone. A lot more girls strolled by, and cars tooled down the street. John cringed as a car slowed and after a brief conversation, picked up a girl.

  It looked even seedier in the dark than in the daylight. He started walking quicker, soon reaching the hostel. He went inside and strode up to his room. Several of the other occupants sat on the side of their bunks, reading or sleeping. Stale smoke hung in the air.

  John smiled. “Hello.”

  A couple of people responded without warmth. Shrugging slightly, he crossed to his bunk and hoisted himself up, his rucksack knocking the adjacent bunk.

  Fear surged through him as he realized the lock on his new case was broken. The things he’d transferred from his rucksack were missing, though his clothes were still there, but no longer in neat piles. Bile rose in his throat. He knew he’d locked it.

  Closing his case, he lowered himself to the floor. He couldn’t stay here another minute—couldn’t afford to if his things were getting stolen and broken. He couldn’t afford yet another new case. Maybe a padlock would keep it secure until he got home.

  He grabbed his case and left. He’d go to the airport and get a standby flight to anywhere. Right now home seemed a great idea.

  On his way down the hallway, he passed a phone. The paper in his pocket crinkled. He paused. It wouldn’t hurt to try. She could only say no, right? In which case, he’d be no worse off than he was now.

  He slid his card through the phone and dialed the number. It rang twice.

  “Hello?” a very warm and feminine voice answered.

  John took a deep breath, not sure about asking for a place to stay from a stranger. He wasn’t impulsive and never made a decision without praying about it for several days first. “Hello, my name’s John Connington. Is Pippa there?”

  “I’m afraid she’s not. I’m Jo, her housemate. Can I take a message? I can get her to call you back.”

  For a moment, John was tempted to hang up, and he wiped his damp palm on his jeans before he slid his free hand into his pocket. “Not very easily, I’m afraid.” Something prompted him to speak. “I’m calling from a pay phone. I was given Pippa’s number by a Christian friend of hers—Sandy Franklin. She works with my sister, Emma, in the UK. The short story is I was told if I needed a place to stay in Sydney, that I should ring Pippa, and she’d put me up.”

  Silence echoed before the voice stammered. “I—I see. Well, like I said, Pip isn’t here right now. She should be back in an hour or so. Call back then.”

  His heart sank. “All right. I’ll do that. Goodbye.” He set the phone back on the wall. What do I do, Lord?

  Gentle feelings touched him that he should go on faith and just leave the hostel.

  No room at the inn, yet they found a stable. I will provide.

  John nodded to himself, headed down to reception, and checked out.

  He’d walk back to the station, wait there, and if Pippa said no, he’d get on a train to the airport and start queuing for a standby flight. He couldn’t blame her housemate for being so cagey. She didn’t know him from Adam.

  ****

  Jo stood looking at the dead phone in her hand. As Pip came through the front door, she glanced at her house mate and then back at the phone.

  Pip crossed the room, put the shopping bags on the floor, and took the phone from her hand. “Jo. What’s wrong? Did you get a prank call?”

  “I don’t know that I’d call it that. It was a weird one, tell you that much.”

  “Let’s go make some tea and you can tell me.”

  Jo grabbed one of the bags and followed Pip to the kitchen. She perched on the bar stool, unpacking the shopping. “Some English bloke called for you. And he had the most cock-and-bull story I’ve ever heard.”

  “Did he have a name?”

  “John Connington. Said a Sandy Franklin, who’s a friend of yours, who’s also a friend of his sister’s, gave him this number and told him he could stay here if he needed to.”

  Pip looked at her and smiled. “Yeah, I remember. Sandy mentioned him when she rang a couple months ago. You know Sandy; she now works in a maternity ward in England. We trained together.”

  Jo nodded not liking that Pip seemed to know about this. The whole idea of a bloke who was a friend of a friend of a friend wanting to stay with them was more than a little unsettling. It would have been nice to have been told, but then it wasn’t her house, so she wouldn’t expect to be told everything that goes on. “Yeah, you mentioned her a couple of times.”

  “Anyway, she works with this girl whose brother’s a Christian, and he’s doing a tour of the world or something, backpacking, so I said if he needed a place to crash in Sydney to look us up. It isn’t like we don’t have the room here for a third person.”

  Jo swallowed hard, her stomach turning. “But you don’t know the bloke.”

  “He’s a Christian. What more do we need to know?”

  “Or he says he is. Let’s face it; he could be a serial killer.”

  “Trust has to start someplace. I hope you said yes.”

  “I told him to phone back. For one thing, I’m too busy to entertain strangers. And for another, it’s not my house to invite strange men to stay, and besides, this is the first I’ve heard about him. Maybe if you’d said something sooner—”

  Pip held up a hand. “Fair enough. Besides, when I ran the idea past Rob before I made the offer, he said he’ll come and sleep on the couch if we get worried. Just have to hope this bloke rings back.”

  Or not... And Rob knew and she didn’t? Things were definitely changing. Time was Pip would confide in her first. Still, she and Rob were engaged, so it was only right he’d come first, Jo supposed. “Yeah, he said he would. Anyway, how was work?”

  “Busy. Really hate clinic days, but at least I rotate back to the labor ward next week. And yes, before you ask, I went shopping on the way home, for more than just groceries, and picked out just the right tree. Just because I’m away this year, doesn’t mean we can’t decorate.”

  “You’ll have so much fun in England. Just think you may even get snow.”

  Pip laughed. “More like rain according to Gran. Really can’t wait to see her, even if I am getting to her house the long way.”

  “Pfft, you’ll have fun seeing places on the way up. And you won’t spare a single thought for me. Stuck here, bored, alone...”

  “Not true. Yes, you’ll be here, but you know full well you’ll be busy with church and family, and you love Christmas. Look at it this way. You can play carols full volume twenty-four seven without me complaining. Want to give me a hand up the stairs with the tree?”

  Despite the sickening feeling in the pit of Jo’s stomach that this stranger might call and end up in Pippa’s spare room for the night, or the next several nights, Jo managed a smile. “Sure. You know me and Christmas trees. It’s never too early to put it up.”

  Exactly an hour later, just as they finished the tree, the phone rang. This time Pip answered it. “Hello? Yes, it is. Hello, John.” She waved to Jo and mimed turning on the tree lights.

  Jo swallowed hard, nodded, and plugged them in. The colored fairy lights twinkled and she sighed. Another Christmas alone. Yes, she would spend the day with her parents, both sets of parents, one for each meal, but it wasn’t the same. She’d come home to an empty house, with nothing but the tree for company.

  Pip shot her a thumbs up and nodded appreciatively at the tree. “No, that’s fine. It’s my house, so Jo wouldn’t have said anything without asking me first. Sure, yeah, I understand. Where are you now? Right, take the bus to Coogee. I’ll meet you at the bus stop on the beach. No, it’s no trouble.” She laughed. “Sure and
I’m wearing a red top. See you then. Goodbye.”

  Jo moved an ornament. “What’s so funny?”

  “He said I’d recognize him by the broken case and brown backpack.” She grimaced. “Apparently, he booked into a hostel in Kings Cross and in the couple hours he was out, someone broke into his case. That’s after the airline lost his luggage and he replaced it.”

  “Oh no.” Jo felt a little guilty about turning him away in the first instance. Kings Cross wasn’t the best area to stay in, and having your stuff stolen as well, followed by her less than welcoming phone conversation, would be enough to put the poor bloke off Australia forever.

  “Yeah, he was at the station ready to take the first train to the airport and get a standby flight to anywhere away from here.”

  “I don’t blame him. If it was me, I wouldn’t have called back. Do you want me to make up the spare room before I head out to work?”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  Jo nodded.

  Hopefully, John was what he claimed to be. Or was he out to scrounge off them having lost everything? Either way she wasn’t sure she wanted a stranger in the house, never mind a strange man.

  2

  Jo stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. She dragged a comb through her damp hair and glanced down at the morning paper.

  Looks like another hot one.

  The door to the spare room was closed when she got home from work the night before, so she knew Pip had collected John. She wondered what he looked like. She hadn’t paid much attention to his voice when he called, other than the cute English accent. He was probably fat, balding, and in his fifties.

  Footsteps tapped down the stairs and across the hall and stopped at the door. The musky male scent of aftershave wafted into the kitchen, and she turned to greet the stranger.

  Wow…

  Short blond hair fell in waves around his face, while fathomless blue eyes sparkled behind his glasses. Jo’s breath caught as her gaze slid over a firm chest to his shirt tucked into jeans which skimmed trim hips and long legs. Dragging her eyes back over his broad shoulders to his face, she felt her cheeks burn as his gaze settled on her face. What had she just done? More to the point, he’d caught her looking.

  Had he given her the once over, too? Had he found her to his liking as she had him? Or did she come up lacking? Which would explain why she was still single at her age.

  She stuck out a hand, praying her voice wouldn’t wobble. “Hi, I’m Jo.”

  He took her hand and shook it. “I’m John. It’s nice to finally put a face to your voice. I’m sorry if I scared you yesterday, ringing out of the blue like that. I felt awkward about doing it as it was. I’m a total stranger, and a bloke, and I ring to ask to stay because a friend of a friend of my sister said it’d be OK even though she’s never met me. I couldn’t have invented something that bad.”

  Jo laughed as he replayed all her earlier misgivings, something about him set her at ease. “Very true, but no worries. It’s not every day I get a total stranger asking if he can move in.”

  His grip was warm and firm, and she didn’t want to let go of his hand. Finally, she did and inwardly berated herself for holding it so long.

  “I’d found somewhere to stay everywhere I was visiting, except here. Ringing all those hostels, I knew how Mary and Joseph must have felt.”

  “Well there’s plenty of room at this inn. Would you like some tea? The kettle’s just boiled.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  “Sure.” Jo turned away, desperate to control the feeling raging through her. The guy was cute. Cute with a capital C. Her heart pounded, fit to burst. Her palms were damp, and the rest of her danced on air. Had God imported Mr. Right? No, it was pointless even considering the idea. He was probably married or had a girlfriend or something.

  She made the tea and passed it to him, taking a surreptitious look at his left hand. No, not married. There still could be a girlfriend. No way was a hunk like him single. Maybe he was a new age bloke who didn’t wear a ring. “Here you go. Do you have a big family?”

  Even as she said it, she mentally slapped herself. That was less than tactful, but hopefully he’d think she meant family other than girlfriend.

  “Thank you.” John took the tea, his fingers brushing against hers. “You could say that. I have Mum and Dad, three sisters, two brother-in-laws, two nephews, and a niece with another niece or nephew on the way. Not to mention grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. My eldest sister, Dorrie knows what the new baby is, but she’s not telling anyone. They’re not all hers, one of the boys is Emma’s—my youngest sister. She works with Sandy.”

  There was something about his accent that would make even the most boring conversation about the weather sound perfectly heavenly.

  “Cool. I’m an auntie, as well. I have four parents as they both remarried, two brothers, two sisters-in-law, with five nieces and two nephews between them. Anyway it’s kind of rowdy when they all get together. Seven kids go wild at Grandma’s house.”

  John smiled, and the way his face crinkled made him even more handsome. Jo’s knees weakened, and she covered it by leaning against the counter and sipping her tea.

  “Sounds like an Enid Blyton book. Have to get Dorrie to write it. She’s a published Christian fiction author. Normally she writes romantic suspense, but she’s been talking about writing a children’s book for a while now.”

  “Really? Wow. That’s so clever. Most people just talk about writing a book, but to actually do it and get published is awesome.” Jo laughed. “What are you doing today?”

  “I’m climbing the Harbor Bridge this morning. Then I thought I’d go to Manly.”

  “Do you know why it’s called Manly?”

  John shook his head. “No.”

  “It was the first part of the city named by a European. Arthur Philip named it after the group of muscular Aborigines he saw there.” Her grin widened at the look on John’s face and the way his brows shot up into his hair. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by shock or plain disbelief, but either way it was cute. “Seriously, it’s named Manly because of the really good looking men there.”

  John laughed. “Cool. Anyway, thanks for the tea, Jo. I’ll keep an eye out for the muscular Aborigines. No doubt Dorrie will want photos of them as well as the bridge and opera house. Hopefully see you later.”

  “Have a good day.” Jo nodded, her gaze following him to the door. Should she have asked him along to her church? By the time she finished the thought, he was gone. She’d been more than a little distracted. When he spoke her name it sounded like nothing she’d ever heard before.

  Jo couldn’t think of a word to describe the headiness filling every part of her. She hadn’t put much faith in the notion of love at first sight. Until now. And that wasn’t fair at all. There had to be thousands upon thousands of blokes in Australia and she had to fall for one from England.

  You know Lord, that’s a bit mean. No, make that incredibly mean. First decent bloke You bring my way in years, and You have him live on the other side of the world. It’s not fair. Unless he is my import?

  ****

  John sat at Manly, gazing out over the sea. The beach was filled with hundreds of people having fun and couples simply being with each other. To his right, a family sat building sandcastles. Girls in bikinis lay on the sand, trying to tan as much of their bodies as they could. Men in shorts strolled along the shoreline, doing their best to attract the attention of the women.

  Only one thought filled his mind: The woman he’d met at the apartment-unit. Her dark hair framed her face, and her deep brown eyes sparkled with life and an inner beauty he knew only came from knowing the Lord. Even though he’d most likely freaked her out the day before, she’d been kind and chatty. And none of the women on the beach in front of him could hold a torch to her. Or the women from back home come to that.

  Jo. Just her name filled him with warmth and a longing he didn’t understand
. He gazed over at the sea pounding on the sand, the surfers riding the waves in. He’d just met this woman, yet something about her, reached out to him on a level he hadn’t expected. Some instant connection, more than the fact they were both Christians, but it could never be. He was only here for a few days. It wasn’t fair on either of them to start up a long-distance romance.

  John took a deep breath. Jo affected him far deeper than any other woman ever had. When he looked at her something moved inside him. A shift of almost seismic proportions and that had to be the most ironic thing ever.

  I must have prayed a million times for a woman who loved You to come into my life to share it. And now I meet Jo. She overflows with her love for You. It shines through her, but it’s more than that. I’d say I was falling for her fast. But she lives here half a world away.

  He didn’t know what to ask or what to say. He couldn’t ask God to change the world for just one person. That wouldn’t be fair. No matter how much he wanted to be selfish.

  ****

  Jo put the finishing touches to dinner and grabbed her bag. She’d spent more time than usual preparing something—even searched up a recipe online and made something English so John would feel at home. Not that she’d admit that to anyone, especially him. He’d been in her thoughts all day long, his voice echoing in her mind and if she closed her eyes she could still see him leaning against the counter, sipping the tea, his eyes lighting up behind his glasses.

  She’d hoped John would have gotten back before she left for work, but he seemed intent on making the most of the day. That was totally understandable. She’d no doubt do the same thing if she ever got to England. But at the same time, she’d miss not seeing his smiling face before she left. Scrawling a note, she addressed it to both Pip and John, telling them dinner was in the oven and would be ready at seven.

  She’d half hoped John would have asked her to go to Manly with him that morning. Although why should he, as they’d only just met? Then when he didn’t, she toyed with the idea of going anyway in the hopes of bumping into him.