‘Right now… I want to spend time with you, Amy and Tom. I want to enjoy Christmas. And I want to adopt Hope.’
He laced his fingers with hers and she sighed.
‘And will you stay in Conwenna?’
‘I’m certainly considering it.’
‘I’d like it if you did.’
‘Well, I’ll consider it more then.’
‘Please do. Stay here, Grace.’
He leant closer and kissed her cheek.
‘Daddy!’ He turned suddenly to find Amy in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
‘What are you two doing? The film’s about to start and Grace said I could do her makeover. Come on!’
Oli stepped backwards with a sigh and released Grace’s hands.
‘Better not miss the start of the film, had we?’
Grace shook her head.
‘Can we talk more later?’
‘I’d like that.’
‘After you…’
He gestured at the doorway and Grace went through; he followed her, resisting the urge to reach out and pull her back to kiss her in the way he wanted to. Without hesitation. Without restraint. Without fear. Because around Grace, he felt that losing control wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
Chapter 18
As they entered the lounge, Grace smiled. The room was perfectly festive, with its low lighting, the tree adorned with twinkling silver fairy lights, the warm glow from the log burner, the scent of cinnamon from the large candle burning on the mantelpiece and the warm, family atmosphere.
Rosehip Cottage now felt like a home. Because it had a family.
The only place left to sit was on the two-seater sofa. Her father was in his arm chair near the fireplace, her mother was in the middle of the three-seater sofa with Amy and Tom on either side, which left the other sofa for Grace and Oli.
She glanced at him and he winked, obviously thinking the same as she was, then she went and sat down. Oli sat at her side and she could feel his heat emanating towards her, his body a magnetic force drawing her closer.
‘Are you ready now, Daddy?’ Amy asked, as she lifted a hand full of popcorn to her mouth.
‘Ready.’
‘Grace?’
‘Ready.’
‘Good! Go for it then, Simon.’
Grace’s father nodded, then pointed the remote control at the TV.
Christmas music filled the room along with the familiar opening scene of the latest version of A Christmas Carol. As the characters on screen went through their own dilemmas, Grace was only able to give the movie half of her attention. She was all too aware of Oli’s leg as it gently brushed against hers, of his handsome profile that was highlighted every so often by a brightening of the TV screen and of the way his hand sat upon his muscular thigh.
Close enough to hold.
And she did want to hold him. After what she’d told him in the kitchen, she’d been worried that he might think that she didn’t like children. She’d have hated for him to have misunderstood her. But he had said that he did understand how she felt. And if he understood that, then perhaps there really was hope for them…
She wondered if he was as engrossed in Ebenezer Scrooge’s past as he appeared to be and dared to steal a glance at him. He met her eyes and smiled, and Grace blushed at being caught out. Then Oli discreetly slid his hand off his leg and onto the cushion next to her and she did the same so that their fingers met.
The rest of A Christmas Carol passed in a blur as Grace’s focus was centred on the way Oli’s skin felt against her own, and how gently he circled her palm with his thumb. When the children asked to stop the movie for comfort breaks, Oli withdrew his hand, but as soon as everyone was settled again, he moved it back. Grace couldn’t help thinking about how good it would be if they could be open about their feelings, if she could hold his hand openly and not have to hide it. But they did it out of respect for Oli’s children and for her parents, although Grace suspected that Louise and Simon had engineered the whole let’s leave the two-seater sofa free situation.
When the final credits rolled, she sighed with disappointment, but flashed Oli a smile as he gave her hand a final squeeze.
‘Who’s for hot chocolate before bed?’ Louise asked.
‘Me!’ Tom shouted.
‘Yes please,’ Amy said, nudging her brother.
‘I meant please.’ Tom hung his head.
‘Come on then, you two, let’s go and warm some milk up.’
‘Oh!’ Amy gasped. ‘I haven’t done your makeovers yet. I forgot because I was enjoying the film so much.’
‘You can do them another day,’ Louise said. ‘We have plenty of time, Amy.’
‘Thank you.’ Amy smiled.
Amy and Tom followed Louise into the kitchen while Simon turned the TV off then put the DVD back into its case.
‘I’ll just uh… help your mother.’ He gestured at the kitchen, so Grace nodded.
When they were alone, Grace’s stomach flipped. They might only have minutes to talk and suddenly her mind was blank.
‘What’re… your plans for the next few days?’
‘Well, believe it or not, I still have gifts to wrap. Nothing like leaving it to the last minute, eh? Although I’ll probably do what I usually do and end up wrapping the kids’ things on Christmas Eve. Or, you know, Santa will drop them off ready wrapped… I wish!’
‘Do you want any help with that?’ Grace asked, well aware that she wanted to see him again as soon as possible. ‘I could come over tomorrow?’
Oli’s expression darkened.
‘What is it?’
‘Tomorrow’s not good for me.’
‘Oh.’ A pain seared through her chest. ‘Okay.’
‘Yes… it’s um… difficult to explain. But…’
Grace put up a hand. ‘Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. I have a million things to do anyway, including trying to edit the last three chapters I’ve written. I just can’t get the one scene right, and I never send a book to my agent until it’s the best it can be. I mean, I’m far too passionate about my writing for that and…’ She trailed off, realizing that she was babbling, trying to fill the silence that would otherwise fall between them, or to prevent Oli from telling her that she was a very nice person, but he just couldn’t see a future for them.
But the handholding…
Perhaps he was just lonely and craving human contact. It could well be that.
Grace just really liked him and was letting herself get carried away.
Oli was staring at the tree and there was something in his eyes that she recognized. She’d seen it before, in her own reflection in the mirror. It was pain. Grief. Fear. Uncertainty. This wonderful father, caring vet, good man, had his own troubles to bear and he was doing a damned good job of it but he was also suffering silently.
She wanted to slide onto his lap, wrap her arms around him and tell him that everything would be okay, but how could she? For one, he might not want her to and, two, it would be a lie. Because Grace didn’t know if everything would be okay. Life was tough, people you loved got ill and died; there was no guarantee about how long someone would be around. That terrified her and no doubt terrified Oli too.
So instead of holding him, she gently squeezed his hand.
‘Oli, if you need some help with the wrapping on Christmas Eve, I’ll be available to help. I’m quite good at it.’
He met her gaze and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
‘Thanks.’ He stood up and Grace felt the cold air creep into the space where he’d just been. She shivered. Without Oli around, life would be a lot colder and duller. In such a short time she’d become so fond of him and being with him had become something she looked forward to.
‘I guess I’d better get those two ready for bed. We have a big day tomorrow.’
‘You do?’
He inclined his head. ‘Unfortunately.’
‘Right.’
‘Coming to see us out?’
‘I’ll be there in a minute.’
Oli nodded sadly then left the room, and Grace pressed her knuckles into her cheeks.
If they had a big day, then she wanted to be a part of it, yet she had no right to ask. They were not her family, and despite Oli’s apparent affection for her, he clearly wasn’t ready to let her fully into his life.
A heavy sigh escaped from Grace as confusion washed over her.
It was time to get a grip on her emotions. Oli was evidently not in a place to fall in love again and Grace had to accept that.
Even if accepting it was the last thing she wanted to do.
* * *
Oli poured water over the coffee grains then stirred it with a spoon. He needed the caffeine after the restless night he’d had. Anniversaries could be good things but in this case, it wasn’t. Linda had been dead two years today and he’d been awake most of the night thinking about what that meant.
Two whole years had passed since he’d kissed her for the last time, since he’d stroked her soft skin and said goodbye. She’d been his friend and companion, and he’d thought they’d grow old together, but instead she’d been cruelly torn from her family by a disease that ate her away. Far too soon. He took a mouthful of coffee and winced as it burnt his tongue, but the physical pain was preferable to the pain in his heart.
And what was he doing? Last night, he’d been sat with Grace, touching her hand and enjoying her company and that of her parents. And enjoying it far too much. Surely it was wrong of him to allow himself to fall for another woman so quickly?
What would Linda have thought if she’d known that he’d moved on in such a short space of time?
She’d have…
He covered his chest with his free hand and took a shaky breath.
He knew what she’d have said, it was the same thing she repeated to him endless times before she died.
Move on and find love again. Find another companion. Don’t grieve for me for long. I want you to live and be happy. I want the children to have as much love as they can do around them. Don’t hold back, Oli, you only get one life.
If it had been the other way around, Oli wondered if he’d have been as understanding. Could he have selflessly told Linda to love again? To move on and forget him?
But then she hadn’t asked him to forget her, only to live on. And living on meant choosing life, not choosing to hide away from love and happiness.
He knew that. He’d just let his fears and his sadness affect him last night. And it was the pressure of today’s date that had led to that.
He needed to get the children up, get them dressed, pop to the florist then head up to the cemetery that sat just beyond the village hall, overlooking the whole of Conwenna. It was a pretty cemetery, if such a thing were possible. It caught the sunlight for most of the day and the old trees there captured the ocean breezes, holding them in their branches and making the cemetery smell of brine and sunshine. There was comfort in the thought of ending up there one day, still being so close to the sea and being surrounded by the beauty of the Cornish village.
Two hours later, Oli, Amy and Tom got out of the Land Rover and walked through the cemetery gate. The children knew the way to their mother’s final resting place and Oli followed them, all three of them silent as their thoughts were focused on one person. For Amy, it was difficult, Oli knew, because she had memories of her mother’s love. For Tom, it was slightly different. He knew that Linda had loved him and that she’d been a good mother, but he knew that from the stories Oli and Amy told him. Oli knew that Tom’s memories of her were vague and probably mainly helped along by photographs and the few video recordings they had of Linda. And by that time, she’d changed, no longer the vibrant beauty with her long blonde hair and shiny brown eyes. By then, her hair had been thin and short, her cheeks sallow and her eyes dulled by pain and fear of what was to come. Oli wished with everything he was that Tom had known his mother as she’d once been, and he tried every day to tell Tom some snippet about Linda that would keep her alive in his memory.
They reached the grave and the three of them stood in front of it. A cold wind whipped around the cemetery, shaking the bare branches of the trees and causing the empty flower pot on the adjacent graveside to whistle.
Amy glanced at him and he shook his head. ‘Just the wind. Nothing to worry about.’
She nodded then leaned forwards and placed the festive wreath she’d chosen against the headstone. ‘Hello, Mummy. Hope you’re okay. Love you and miss you. I got you this because I know how much you liked Christmas decorations and this one has red bows, gold glitter and real holly and ivy.’
Oli took her hand as she stepped backwards and his heart cracked when he saw how she was biting her lip, determined not to cry. She’d told him on the journey there that she wanted to be happy for her mummy and not to make her sad.
Tom knelt down and placed the small white teddy bear wearing a Christmas hat on the grave. ‘Hello, Mummy. Hope you’re not too cold. I got you a teddy bear to cuddle. Love you.’
He stepped back and took Oli’s other hand.
‘Hi Linda.’ The pain in his throat made his voice croaky. ‘Love you and miss you. Hope you’re at peace, angel.’
‘You can cry if you need to, Daddy,’ Amy said as she stroked his hand.
‘I know, sweetheart. Same goes for you.’
He lowered into a crouch and pulled his children into his arms. They hugged one another tight as they took turns to tell Linda about their week, about the cat and kittens and about Hope, as well as about their Christmas plans.
When they’d all finished their stories and had fallen silent, Amy pushed backwards so she could look into Oli’s face. She cupped his chin and smiled through her tears.
‘Daddy, Mummy wants you to be happy. You know that don’t you?’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I just know.’
He swallowed hard.
‘She wouldn’t mind about Grace. She’d be glad for you and for us.’
‘About Grace? What about Grace?’
‘Oh come on, Daddy.’
She was so perceptive sometimes that it unnerved him. But then perhaps he hadn’t been doing as good a job of hiding his feelings as he’d thought.
‘You think so?’
‘Definitely. Grace is a good person. She makes things feel better.’
He bit down on his bottom lip, but as hard as he tried to control his emotions, a tear escaped and trickled down his cheek. Amy caught it with her gloved finger.
‘Come on, Daddy. Let’s go and get warmed up.’
‘Sometimes I think you’re older than you are, Amy.’
‘Does that mean I can have a smartphone for Christmas then? Like all my friends?’
In spite of the sadness in his chest, Oli laughed. ‘I don’t know if Santa has got one for you.’
‘Daddy!’ Amy frowned at him then rolled her eyes. ‘You know I don’t beli—’
Oli shook his head and nodded at Tom.
‘What I meant was, I’m sure Santa can do some last minute Christmas shopping. After all, I’m going to have a cat to take photos of now.’
‘Oh, Amy…’ Oli sighed. ‘Sometimes you’re so much like your mother.’
‘Well, that’s something I’m proud of.’ She smiled, then took Tom’s hand and skipped along the path, her young mind full of Christmas and gifts, of love and the future and of living. With her cat, of course.
Oli paused and turned back to the gravestone.
‘I love you Linda and I always will. I’ll never forget what we had… but I need to grab happiness now, for me and for the children. I don’t know if it’s with Grace. It’s early days and I can’t be sure yet, but I hope you understand.’
And as he turned and followed Amy and Tom back to the car, he could have sworn he heard someone whisper… I do.
Chapter 19
Grace strolled through the village, taking deep b
reaths to try to ease the ache in her chest. Just last evening, she’d been cosied up next to Oli in her parents’ lounge as they’d enjoyed a Christmas movie, and within such a short space of time the warm fuzzy feeling she’d been enjoying had been replaced by doubt and emptiness once more.
This morning, she felt as if she could just run away from it all, pack up and head straight back to Cardiff and continue her previous existence by immersing herself in her writing and ignoring everything else. But she knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Being in Conwenna Cove and spending time with Oli and his children had awakened something inside her, something that she hadn’t known was even there. It was as if she’d been sleepwalking for years, at least since Sam had died, and now she was wide awake, aware of what life could be like if she just took a chance. The problem was that she didn’t know if Oli wanted to take that chance too.
If he did then what did that mean?
She bit her lip and pulled her coat tighter around her throat. But he’d told her he had something to do this morning and it quite clearly didn’t involve her. That stung. It shouldn’t, but it did and Grace didn’t want to feel like that. Life was too short. Yet wasn’t life also too short not to feel, to spend days, weeks, months and even years in a state of numbness as she had done after Sam had died?
She heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Oli, Amy and Tom standing outside Scoops and Sprinkles. Not wanting to be seen, she ducked into the nearest doorway and found herself in the Conwenna Café. She stood at the glass for a few moments, watching as Oli and his children eyed the ice creams on offer in the shop window.
And she felt lonelier than she ever had done before. Because they were there and she was not with them.
‘Hey, Grace, who’re you spying on?’
She jumped and turned to meet Nate’s smiling face.
‘Oh! What? I’m not spying.’
He leaned forwards to see who she was looking at, then nodded.
‘I see.’
‘See what?’
‘You need a Nate special.’
‘No… I don’t. I’m going.’
‘No, you’re not. Come on.’
Christmas at Conwenna Cove Page 17