Once Upon a Christmas Night...

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Once Upon a Christmas Night... Page 9

by Annie Claydon


  He shook his head. ‘That can wait. I, on the other hand, have already waited long enough. I just want to hold you for a little while longer.’ He kissed her and every nerve ending flared abruptly into life. Suddenly there was nothing else in the world that she needed to do as much as kiss him back.

  ‘I’m sorry, Greg. I shouldn’t have—’

  He laid his finger across her lips. ‘Hey. None of that. We are what we are. Everyone has issues. But we can work through them. We’ve just got to keep talking.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘When we’ve finished with the talking, we could try a little loving.’

  ‘Just a little?’

  He chuckled. ‘Not if I have any say in the matter.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE HOSPITAL LIBRARY wasn’t large, but it did have as many bookshelves as could be squeezed into such a limited space, and they were all full. Greg found Jess in there, poring over a list and consulting the shelves.

  ‘Hey, there. Any luck?’

  She shrugged. ‘Not sure yet. None of this is any particular order. People just take books out and put them back anywhere.’ She paused, grinning, and pulled a volume from a pile on the floor. ‘Ooh, look! There’s a good start.’

  ‘A Christmas Carol.’ Greg took the book from her and flipped the pages. ‘You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually read this. I’ve seen films, of course.’

  ‘Then you should take it home. Might get you into the spirit of things.’ She smiled at him, and Greg’s world tipped slightly. He could almost see himself taking time out to actually do some reading.

  He put the book aside for later. ‘I’ve got something for you. A surprise.’

  Her eyes flipped to his empty hands and then to his face. ‘A surprise? What is it?’

  ‘Well, if I walked in here holding it, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Anyway, first things first.’

  Her ability to anticipate what he wanted was almost uncanny. She was in his arms almost before he’d had a chance to reach for her. Her kiss told him that everything his senses had been yearning for was right there. Not yet, though. He wasn’t going to blow it by forgetting to say any of the things he’d left unspoken up till now.

  ‘You look lovely.’ She was dressed simply, dark trousers and a red sweater. A complicated twist of beads around her neck that weren’t quite her style but looked great. ‘You smell gorgeous. Did you dress up for me?’

  She flushed awkwardly then met his gaze. ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘I appreciate that.’ He kissed her again. That physical language that meant more than words sometimes.

  She nodded, eyes glistening. ‘So where’s my surprise?’ She dug him in the ribs. ‘Come on.’

  He chuckled, breaking away from her and fetching the box that he’d left in the hallway, setting it down on the small library table. She gave him a questioning look then tore off the packing tape with which he’d resealed the box and pulled out layers of bubble wrap.

  ‘Greg! It’s… ’ She peered into the box. ‘Look at the roof and the little chimneys.’

  He reached inside and carefully drew the model out. ‘You like it?’

  ‘It’s beautiful. Look, there’s even grass in the courtyard and a little gatehouse and railings.’ She was entranced, trying to take in all the features of the tiny representation of the hospital at once. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I didn’t make it myself, if that’s what you mean. There’s a company that Shaw Industries uses that make models of some of our larger engineering installations. I passed the job on to them and tipped the wink to Ash that he wouldn’t need to do anything. Do you mind?’

  ‘If you think I’m going to quibble about how you got your contribution to the pageant done… ’ she shrugged ‘… I’ve been begging for things for months now. I’m not picky about where they come from.’

  ‘Good. So, can I expect a—?’

  She went to kiss him before he could even ask. Greg backed her against a free-standing bookcase, which wobbled precariously, so he changed direction, steering her against one of the wall cabinets. Holding back from her, letting their lips just touch.

  It was all that was needed to start the long, slow burn that would build through the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening, until they had a chance to quench it. That might take most of the night.

  He kissed her again, this time a little deeper. Or maybe it was Jess who did that. One of the things he loved about making love with her was that he was never really sure who was doing what for whom. Everything just flowed, one caress into another, without thought or artifice, pleasuring both of them in equal measure.

  ‘We’d better be getting on, then.’ He had no intention of leaving her satisfied. Not yet. Not for a long time.

  ‘Yeah. There’s a lot to do.’ Her hand nudged the top of his leg and he shuddered. The trouble with Jess was that she could play this game so much better than he could.

  He gave up and reached for the list, keeping one arm coiled around her shoulders. ‘You know, I reckon most of these books are in the library at my father’s house.’ He still couldn’t quite bring himself to call it his own. ‘Can you do with some extra copies?’

  ‘Yes. I need to get as many as possible. I’ve got a lot of volunteers for the storytelling.’

  ‘So why don’t you send the list to my mother and she’ll sort them out and box them up? I’ll be up there some time before Christmas and I can pick them up.’

  ‘Would she mind? I’ll make sure I get them back to you.’

  Greg laughed. ‘No, she’ll be very happy about that. She called me last night and asked me whether I was considering being a total ass and ignoring you for much longer.’

  ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘I told her I’m not considering that.’

  She gave a small nod. ‘Are we going to be okay, Greg?’ The way she looked at him, in almost agonised belief that he could make everything all right, wrenched his heart.

  ‘We’re working on it, honey. Together.’

  ‘Yes.’ That seemed to be enough for her, and she took refuge in his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest. She trusted him. He would do all he could not to let her down.

  He kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘So, as we’re here to work, what do you want me to do?’

  She laughed. Soft, sweet laughter, like an angel caressing his senses. ‘Sort out some of these books for me.’

  The restaurant he took her to was only ten minutes’ walk from the hospital, along a little cobbled alleyway by the river. Jess hadn’t even known it was there, and guessed that it didn’t need to advertise itself too much. A small foyer, where they were stripped of their coats, and up a flight of stairs into an understated but noticeably classy eating area. Waiters, who appeared and disappeared as if they’d just walked out of the walls, and a no-frills menu that clearly underplayed some very haute cuisine.

  The first course came and was cleared away, waiters melting in and out of the space around their table like wraiths who knew exactly when to appear and when to tactfully disappear. Jess had asked about Greg’s father’s book, expecting him to shrug it off, keep his feelings close to his chest, but instead he sent one of the waiters downstairs to fetch it from his coat.

  ‘Can I look?’ Jess was unsure just how much he wanted to share.

  He nodded. ‘Yes. I’d like you to, if you don’t mind.’

  It was the first time he’d let her see anything to do with his father or Shaw Industries. Jess’s hand shook as she flipped through the pages, full of closely written paragraphs and complex diagrams. This wasn’t what she had expected. ‘He’s written something.’

  ‘Yeah. Look a little closer.’

  At first glance the text almost looked as if it should make sense. But when Jess scanned the pages more closely, she saw that Greg meant. Disjointed phrases, flashes, impressions that dangled the promise of some kind of meaning, but at the same time fell short of conveying anything. A chart that mus
t have meant something but had no labels.

  ‘I’m sorry, Greg. I know how much you wanted this to be something.’

  He shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t have got my hopes up. He couldn’t communicate with me when he was alive and he sure as hell can’t do it now.’

  Anger flashed across his face. Good. That was good. She’d rather see Greg rage at this than just coldly accept it.

  ‘Isn’t there anything in here that makes any sense?’ She turned the pages slowly, looking for something, anything, that might be an intelligible message.

  ‘Not to me. He shook his head. ‘Maybe he didn’t know what it meant either.’

  ‘At least he tried.’

  A short bark of a laugh. ‘You always think the best of people.’

  ‘Is that such a bad thing?’

  He scrubbed his hand across his eyes. ‘Not at all. Just saying.’

  Jess’s eye lit on a phrase. ‘Look.’ She laid the book on the table, facing him. ‘See what it says there? “Son is here.” That’s on the previous page, too. He knew you were there for him and that obviously meant something.’

  ‘Yeah. Although he couldn’t remember my name.’

  Enough of this. ‘You know better than that, Greg.’ She sought his gaze and held it. Perhaps she was expecting too much. ‘It’s natural that you should feel that way as his son. As a doctor, it’s my place to tell you that he might not have been able to vocalise his feelings but they were still there.’

  ‘You’re right. I know. I just can’t feel that way at the moment.’

  ‘You will, in time. The tumour was obviously affecting the language centres of his brain. It may be that someone with specific expertise in this area would be able to help.’

  ‘Do you think there’s any point?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just think that you can’t give up on him now.’ Jess might mistrust John Shaw’s intentions but she loved Greg. If she had to deal with the father to help the son, she’d do it.

  He nodded. ‘I just wish he’d been able to give me a few ideas about the right thing to do next.’

  ‘Maybe he trusted you. He might have reckoned that you’d make the right decisions all on your own.’

  Greg stared at her. ‘I… I don’t think… ’ He shrugged, summoning up a smile. ‘I don’t think that’s something that ever occurred to me.’

  ‘Maybe you should give it some thought.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Greg closed the book and threw his napkin over it, as if that was an end to it and even looking at the volume was hard for him. ‘Ah. Here’s our pudding.’

  One of the waiters appeared out of thin air, where he seemed to have been hovering, waiting for them to finish talking. Laying their plates in front of them, he disappeared again.

  ‘Where do they go?’ Jess leaned across the table conspiratorially.

  Greg laughed. ‘It’s all done with trapdoors and pulleys. Do you like it here?’

  ‘Yeah, I do, actually.’ If he’d told her about this place before they’d come, she’d have turned it down out of hand. But now that she was here it wasn’t so bad. She felt relaxed, comfortable and the food was wonderful. She probed her chocolate pudding with her spoon. ‘This looks lovely.’

  ‘Yeah. Wish I’d gone for it.’ He reached out towards her plate and Jess rapped his spoon with hers.

  ‘Don’t you dare. Anyway, the lemon meringue looks nice too.’

  He took a mouthful. ‘Yes. It’s very good. So we’ll come back here some time?’

  They were grinning at each other across the table. ‘Yes. Only next week we go to Aldo’s.’ Diners lined up at trestle tables, waiters who tapped their feet and stared at the ceiling if you didn’t order quickly enough, and a good, filling meal.

  ‘Okay. I like Aldo’s.’ He nodded and left her to tuck into the best chocolate pudding she’d ever tasted.

  She woke up in his arms. Jess took a moment to appreciate the novelty of not having to wonder where Greg was, and then stretched a little, just to test whether he was awake or not. His hand wandered sleepily to her stomach and stayed there.

  Last night had been perfect. Enough to drive every one of her misgivings from her head, along with every other worry. Taking his hand in hers and pulling it close to her heart, she drifted back to sleep.

  When she woke again something was wrong. The room was swimming and almost before her eyes were open properly she was on her feet and running for the bathroom.

  ‘Are you okay, Jess?’

  The vomiting was sudden and violent, but at least it passed as quickly as it had come, and by the time Greg made the bathroom, she was already rinsing her mouth.

  ‘Yeah.’ She was still shivering, cold sweat on her brow, and Greg wrapped her in his dressing gown, guiding her back to the bed.

  ‘Here, lie down for a minute.’ He propped the pillows up and she relaxed back into them, wishing that they’d swallow her up. Not quite the awakening she’d been planning on treating him to.

  ‘Can I get you something? A glass of water?’

  ‘No. Thanks, I’m okay.’ She shrugged. ‘Don’t know what happened there.’ Though she was beginning to fathom it out and she tried to ignore the conclusion that was staring her in the face.

  Greg’s face was clouded in thought. Apparently he too was beginning to fathom it out. ‘How late are you?’

  ‘What? Who says… ?’

  ‘How late?’ His voice was firm, almost as if he was talking to a difficult patient.

  ‘Don’t be like this, Greg.’ He couldn’t know. She didn’t even know so how could he possibly know?

  ‘Okay, then. You can clear this up in a second. All you have to do is tell me that I’m imagining things.’

  ‘You’re… ’ She couldn’t. Or, if he was, then it looked as if he was imagining the same things that she was. The things that she’d, put down to stress and the missed meals and sleepless nights of the last two weeks.

  ‘Jess, stop this. You refused any wine last night, you’re sick this morning. What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing. I just didn’t want the wine. It smelled a bit off.’

  ‘It was fine.’

  ‘Maybe it’s just a stomach bug.’

  ‘How late?’

  ‘Two weeks. And a couple of days.’

  ‘How many days?’ His voice was gentle, but Jess didn’t dare look up into his face.

  ‘Four.’

  ‘Is that usual for you?’

  ‘No, I’m… You can usually set your watch by my monthly cycle.’

  ‘I’m assuming you haven’t done a test?’

  ‘No. I thought I was just a bit run down.’

  ‘This isn’t like you, Jess.’ He wrapped his arms around her, letting out a long sigh. ‘A test would only take five minutes and then we’d know.’

  ‘Yes. Then we’d know.’ What if she didn’t want to know just yet? She might just want to hang onto the possibility that she was right, without having to actually face any of the hard questions that was going to pose. But now that Greg was involved, it changed everything. ‘I’ll stop on my way home and get a test kit from the chemist.’

  ‘Jess.’ He let out a huff of exasperation. ‘Okay, this is what we’re going to do. I’ll pop out now to the all-night chemist and get a test kit. Then we’ll get it done, and… well, we can work out what comes next when we know what the result is.’

  Somewhere, deep inside, she was glad. Glad that Greg had forced the issue. That he’d been stronger than she was, and that he’d cared enough to be gentle, too. ‘Yes. All right.’

  He reached for her, grasping her by the shoulders and looking straight into her face. A pulse beat at the side of his brow. He wasn’t as calm as he sounded. ‘It’ll be okay, Jess. We’ll work this out together.’

  She gulped back the tears. He was sticking by her, this far at least. Or perhaps he was just taking control. She preferred the former.

  ‘Okay?’ He wasn’t going anywhere until she gave him a ‘yes’.

&n
bsp; ‘Yes. Okay.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  GREG IGNORED THE smile from the woman behind the counter at the chemist. She probably had him down as a guy who couldn’t wait to become a father. In truth, if he’d had the first idea about how to be a father he might have had a clue about what he wanted. Currently he had neither.

  Jess was sitting up in his bed when he got back, toying with one of the dry crackers he’d got for her, his dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. He laid the paper bag down next to her and she hesitated, then snatched it up and made for the bathroom. He heard the door close and then the click of the lock.

  Ten minutes and not a sound had come from the other side of the bathroom door. Jess supposed that she should go out and face him. Not yet.

  Not yet.

  She stood up from her perch on the side of the bath. She didn’t feel any different. Looked in the mirror. She didn’t look any different either.

  ‘It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.’ She whispered the words to her own reflection, and received a smile in response. It was going to be all right.

  Her hand wandered to her stomach. Still flat, no signs yet. ‘Hey, baby.’ Her first words to her unborn child. ‘Your mother loves you. Everything’s going to be just fine.’ It didn’t seem odd to be talking like this. In the last ten minutes her world had turned upside down, split apart at the seams, and she’d fallen hopelessly and irrevocably in love with the scrap of life inside her.

  Would her baby—their baby, she supposed—be like him? Would some accident of genetics mean that it grew into an olive-skinned, dark-eyed charmer? Strong and tall, owing nothing to its mother? She rubbed her stomach, letting the thought percolate for a while. She liked it rather better than she was ready to admit.

  What would Greg say? Would he wonder if she’d somehow meant this to happen? He was a rich man, and most women would jump at the chance to snare him. Slowly but surely everything began to unravel. All the promises they’d made in the last few days. Then they’d had the luxury of being able to live with uncertainty. Things were different now.

 

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