Notting Hill in the Snow

by Jules Wake

  ‘Now, there’s a thought,’ teased Nate, flashing Grace another conspiratorial grin.

  ‘Daddy, that’s not nice. You have to be nice to Viola. Have we got a carrot for a nose?’ She looked worried for a second. ‘We don’t have no coal. But we have scarves.’ She bounced in her seat. ‘Can I go get one?’

  ‘I think snowman-building might be just the thing,’ said Nate. ‘It might get rid of some of those extra beans, missy.’

  Grace beamed at her dad and jumped up from her seat, running to the stairs, and we heard her pattering up them.

  ‘The joy of snow when you’re seven. All I could think when I looked out the office window was that getting home would be a nightmare and everyone would smell of damp dog on the tube.’

  ‘And did they?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, and everyone was miserable. But this makes it better. Makes coming home worthwhile.’

  ‘You enjoy your job, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, sorry, am I sounding like a miserable old git?’

  ‘No, I guess it must be quite …’ I looked around at the kitchen ‘… well paid.’

  He laughed. ‘Viola, you’re never being tactful, are you?’

  ‘OK, Mr Shit-hot solicitor, lawyer … whatever you are – what is it you do?’

  ‘I specialise in sports law.’

  ‘Sports law?’

  ‘That’s surprised you.’

  ‘Yes, I didn’t even know there was such a thing. It sounds almost respectable. I mean, not like a human rights lawyer or anything but sort of. What sort of things do you do?’

  ‘We represent sports people, like athletes, footballers, jockeys when they might have fallen foul of anti-doping rules, or if they’re in dispute with their governing body. We also represent Sports Governing Bodies when a decision they’ve made has been legally challenged elsewhere or by an International Sports Body.’

  ‘Wow, that must be interesting.’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘So do you get to meet lots of famous sports people?’

  ‘Says she who mixes with world-famous singers and dancers all the time.’

  ‘That’s different, it’s just work and I’m a tiny cog in a big machine. It sounds like you’re quite important. I’m not being rude … but this is one heck of a house.’

  ‘I got lucky. You ever seen the Tom Cruise and Cuba Gooding Junior film, Jerry Maguire?’

  I nodded. ‘Ages ago.’

  ‘I was working for a small firm with a couple of sports clients and I met a rugby player, who got embroiled in a nasty scandal with quite a famous actress.’

  ‘You mean …?’ My eyes widened. It had been a very famous case about ten years ago. ‘J—’

  He put up a hand to stop me. ‘Don’t say it. Client confidentiality. I can’t say any more if you do.’

  ‘And that’s why you’re the lawyer,’ I said.

  ‘Exactly. No one wanted to know him. But I’d met him a couple of times, really liked the guy. He had integrity. I guess it was gut feeling. I didn’t think he’d done what he was accused of. So I managed to get a business card to him. Said I’d represent him. The company I was working for didn’t want to know. So I went out on a limb. I’d just started dating Elaine at the time … she was pretty horrified at first. Anyway. Someone had some rather useful CCTV footage, got him off the hook. The next day he was reinstated to the national side and scored the winning try in the dying seconds of the game, to win a major international game against all odds. Instant hero. As his cachet hit the big time, so did my reputation. Overnight, I had requests for representation and most of them have stuck with me ever since.’

  ‘Wow, so you’re one of the good guys.’

  ‘I like to think so. I take it from something your mother said, you’re not keen on the legal profession.’

  ‘Ex-boyfriend. Paul. Corporate law. Definitely not one of the good guys. He thought his job was more important than mine.’ I winced at the memory. The night he’d kindly explained why he was leaving me and what had forced him into the arms of another woman.

  ‘Ouch. He sounds an …’

  Grace came running in with a big wide red scarf and a floppy black hat. ‘Look what I found.’

  ‘Perfect,’ I said. ‘Let’s see what else we can find for his face.’

  ‘I … er … I hope you don’t mind but I borrowed some of your socks,’ I said, coming down the stairs, suddenly feeling a little flushed. I’d just been up to Grace’s room to help her find some suitable outdoor clothing and while I’d been gone Nate had changed out of his suit.

  The long-sleeved navy Henley T-shirt suited him far too well, emphasising broad shoulders, and the buttons at the front revealed a small vee of skin with a dusting of hair. That little glimpse of skin suggested there was a whole lot more to him than I’d considered before. Unfortunately the bulky ski trousers that hid plenty didn’t stop my imagination filling in the gaps. I was already thinking about his long legs and wondering things that were making me feel a little heated.

  ‘Didn’t you get my text?’ he asked, leaning down and pulling a thick pair of socks onto long narrow feet, almost identical in shape to Grace’s.

  ‘Yes, but I also … my wellies were letting the wet in. I … erm … borrowed a pair of Elaine’s, I assume they’re hers, snow boots.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind.’ He straightened up, carelessly pushing his hand through his unruly hair. ‘It’s not like she’s using them at the moment. She’s probably bought another pair by now anyway.’

  ‘So … she’s not coming back?’ I asked.

  Nate’s mouth went flat. ‘Doesn’t look like it.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s …’ he lifted his shoulders ‘… it’s been nearly a year. She left in January. But she’d been working in New York for nine months already by then. Commuting back and forth over the Atlantic. I guess, in hindsight, it shouldn’t have been a huge shock. I’d have gone with her if she’d asked.’ The sad, quiet admission made me look up at him sharply. He’d spoken earlier of his job and his passion.

  ‘Leave your company?’

  He shrugged. ‘There would have been a way round. I’d have compromised. She didn’t want to.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s worse for Grace. People fall out of love. People get divorced. Although I never thought it would happen to … to us. When you get married and have a child, you think it’s going to be for ever. It never occurred to me I’d join the failed marriages statistics. But I did. I failed at being married. Failed Elaine somehow. That was no one’s fault but ours. But it seems so unfair on Grace. We failed but she’s the one most affected. She didn’t ask for this. Elaine and I should have been able to fix it for her sake. Shouldn’t we?’ He gave me an anguished look.

  ‘I don’t know. But she’s got you and you seem to be a pretty good dad to me. Some people have both parents and are still …’ neglected seemed too strong a word; it suggested deliberate intent rather than preoccupation with other weightier matters ‘… forgotten.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess. I still worry about her. Elaine barely keeps in touch. The odd Skype call and that’s about it. Every now and then she’ll send some “darling” outfit that she saw in “Bloomies” and she just couldn’t resist, which Grace will insist on wearing even though it’s either too small – Elaine seems to have forgotten children grow and that Grace is now seven and not five – or it’s totally inappropriate.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Grace could attend the Oscars and not be out-sparkled.’

  ‘Damn, you couldn’t tell her that Grace has had a growth spurt and is now a size ten, could you? I can always use a new party frock.’

  Nate laughed. ‘Am I sounding bitter and twisted?’

  ‘No, you care about Grace. Which makes you a good dad. You can’t compensate for Elaine’s behaviour. All you can do is your best and I think it’s coming up to scratch.’

  ‘I’m ready,’ said Grace, rustling her way through the kitchen to
the patio doors in a pair of pink ski trousers and a matching pink and cream ski jacket, carrying the blue snow boots at arm’s length.

  ‘You look very smart,’ I said, patting the outside of my heavy wool red coat; it wasn’t exactly snow-proof and was still quite soggy after the walk home from school.

  ‘Do you want to borrow something?’ asked Nate. ‘I’ve got another ski jacket. It will be a bit big for you, but it will keep you warm and dry.’

  Chapter 17

  Getting dressed had been like preparing for an expedition to the Arctic, which was ridiculous considering the postage stamp sized patio garden.

  ‘Close your eyes, Viola,’ said Grace when we were finally all kitted out and ready for the off. There’d only been a little bit of grumbling about the blue boots again.

  Nate and Grace began whispering as we stepped outside.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘There’s a surprise.’

  ‘OK.’

  Nate took one hand and Grace the other.

  ‘Keep them shut tight. No peeping,’ she instructed in her bossy little voice.

  ‘There are a couple of steps here, five in total,’ said Nate, now cradling my elbow. ‘One. Two. Three. Four. Five. A few more steps forward.’

  Robbed of my sight, my ears strained. Apart from Grace’s little excited pants, the rustle of our breathable, waterproof super fabrics and the crunch of our feet on the snow, there wasn’t a sound. It was difficult to believe we were in the middle of a busy city.

  ‘You can look now,’ said Grace, tugging at my hand as if trying to open my eyes herself. ‘Look.’

  I opened my eyes. Stretching out ahead was a pure white blanket edged with the shadows of snow-laden foliage. ‘Oh, my goodness. Is this all yours?’

  Nate laughed. ‘I earn well, but not that well. It’s a communal garden.’

  Of course it was. Notting Hill was famous for them, although most people thought of the gated and fenced parks as featured in the famous film, but many were tucked away out of sight behind the houses.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ I glanced down at Grace. ‘And perfect for snowmen – you’ve got enough snow here for a whole snow family.’

  ‘Shall we start with one?’ suggested Nate, looking a little worried. ‘It’s quite late.’

  Nate began to roll a ball of snow and I showed Grace how to get started and between us we began to roll a ball, collecting snow as we went, leaving a green path in our wake.

  ‘You can do the main body,’ I said, watching Nate stop to rest for a second.

  ‘Funny, that. Leave the big job to me.’

  It was harder work than I remembered and I had to keep steering Grace, otherwise the ball would have been a very funny shape. After a while she started to get bored, so I suggested she find some twigs under the trees for the snowman’s arms, which she much preferred the idea of, running away and laughing as she knocked the snow from the leaves of the low-hanging branches of the small trees lining the garden.

  ‘Gosh, I’m kn- tired out,’ said Nate, stopping for another breather just a few feet in front of me, his breath billowing out in plumes of steam. Snow dusted his bare head and he shook it off and wiped a gloved hand across his dark brows, where the odd flake had also collected. ‘Do you think it’s big enough?’

  ‘Do you worry about that often?’ I asked with a mischievous grin at him.

  There was a beat before he answered airily, ‘No, I’m quite confident in my own attributes. There haven’t been any complaints to my knowledge.’

  ‘Good to know,’ I said equally airily, trying not to laugh as I gave my outsize ball a push towards him and what was going to be the bottom half of one heck of a big snowman.

  ‘That’s one big head,’ said Nate, his voice as dry as dust.

  I turned away to swallow a giggle and felt a thud on the back of my head along with the explosion of snow and a cascade of ice work its way down between my scarf and my neck.

  ‘Oi!’ I yelled, whipping round to find Nate with both arms clamped to his sides like a toy soldier, an expression of unholy innocence on his face.

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  ‘What?’ he asked, his eyes ridiculously wide, his mouth already twitching.

  ‘There is no one else here?’ I said.

  ‘Grace.’

  I burst out laughing at his deadpan expression.

  ‘You’re accusing your own daughter. That’s low.’

  ‘Merely stating the facts.’ There was a quirk to his lips.

  I laughed and cautiously turned to where she was foraging in the trees. I wasn’t giving him the chance to sneak another snowball in.

  Tipping my head to one side, I gave him an appraising stare. ‘I don’t think her aim is quite that accurate or she has the strength to throw this far.’

  ‘That would be supposition.’ Amusement twinkled in his eyes as he took a step forward.

  ‘Really? You’re playing that card.’ I squared up to him and took a step forward as well.

  ‘Absolutely.’ He took another step. I could see the snow crystals glittering on his face and fine drops of water on his eyelashes.

  ‘I’d still say you are the prime suspect.’ I had to tilt my head to look up at him as the clouds of steam from our breath merged.

  ‘Mmm –’ his voice was silky and a little shiver of awareness fluttered in the base of my belly ‘– that’s a reasonable conclusion. However, I would still contend there is no firm evidence. Innocent until proven guilty.’ Our quiet conversation in the snow-brightened, sound-deadened night seemed to resonate with intimacy.

  ‘Or until I catch you in the act,’ I said, my voice unaccountably throaty. I didn’t mean it to come out like that but instinct had taken over.

  ‘There is that,’ he said gravely, quiet amusement still dancing in his dark brown eyes.

  I swallowed. There was a thickness in the air. Desire? Longing?

  Now we were just looking at each other. We’d both run out of things to say. I saw him swallow, look at my mouth, swallow again.

  Just one kiss. One kiss. Would it be so bad? I couldn’t help it, I parted my lips. An invitation. Held my breath as he stepped forward again. His eyes slid right, very briefly, over my shoulder.

  And he kissed me!

  The touch of cold lips startled as much as thrilled me, then the warmth of his breath when he exhaled. A hand on my waist steadied me as I lifted my mouth. We kissed again, a more confident touch this time, his mouth moving over mine, and inside I felt little pockets of happiness unfurl, in my chest, my stomach, my heart, my core, like a series of firecrackers. I needed that hand on my waist.

  Nate sighed into my mouth like a surrender and deepened the kiss. My heart clenched as I felt his fingers grip my waist. They dug in with want. Our eyes were still open, looking at each other.

  Then he pulled back, rested his forehead against mine for a brief second. ‘Oh God, Viola.’

  His fingers released my waist and he looked at me. The smoky desire was already fading.

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.’ His eyes slid right over my shoulder. ‘Not in front of Grace.’

  Guilt pinched hard at me. I’d completely forgotten her for those few seconds. ‘Sorry,’ I whispered back.

  We both turned to watch her; she was still dancing in the snowy shrubs like a small winter pixie in her bright red hat.

  ‘You have nothing to be sorry about.’

  I gave him a candid look. ‘I wanted you to kiss me.’

  He rubbed a hand through his hair and gave me a rueful smile. ‘I’ve been wanting to kiss you since that first day on the tube.’

  I smiled back at him, his words feeding the small glow lodged in my chest.

  ‘I saw you before you got on the train. You looked so alive, bright and in love with life. As if there could be an adventure around the very next corner. Then that woman barged you. I was so angry with her, it shocked me. And then I was worried you were hurt and that shocked
me even more.’

  ‘I have a confession to make.’

  ‘You do? You do realise it may be taken down as evidence?’

  ‘When I … I … er … rammed you at the Opera House, I was … well, I decided I couldn’t let you walk away. I was … er … sort of running after you.’

  ‘A novel way of showing your interest.’

  ‘Oh –’ I shrugged ‘– I thought that was quite subtle. I usually just club men over the head and drag them back to my cave.’

  He laughed, the sound echoing around the houses circling the garden, and Grace looked up and waved.

  ‘I’ve got some arms,’ she called. ‘Look.’ She came running over, weaving from side to side waving a stick in each hand like crazy antennae. Both Nate and I grinned at her joyous zigzag progress across the virgin snow.

  ‘Perfect,’ I said as she reached me, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright with excitement. ‘These will be absolutely perfect. Let’s help Daddy put the body onto the bottom and then all we need to do is roll a small ball for the head.’

  ‘We’re going for the three-tier approach?’ said Nate.

  ‘Yes!’ I said. ‘With this much snow all to ourselves, of course we are.’

  ‘That’s what Olaf looks like,’ said Grace, ‘’cept we don’t have a carrot.’

  ‘Olaf another time. This can be … Mr Snow.’

  She clapped her hands in delight as we began to assemble the snowman. Once he was in situ I handed out the lids of the empty spice jars I’d pinched from the utility room while Grace and Nate were changing. With a sharpie I’d found in the pen pot on top of the fridge I’d drawn half circles on the inside of two lids, which made very effective if quite comical eyes. I’d coloured the rest of the lids in to make three buttons and I’d sliced up a Washington Red apple to make a pair of ruby-red lips in the absence of a carrot.

  Nate lifted a wriggling and giggling Grace to put the black hat on the top as the final touch and we stepped back to review our handiwork.

  ‘Take a picture of me and Mr Snow,’ said Grace, standing next to the snowman and putting her arms around him. ‘We can send it to Mummy. It’s the best snowman ever. Do you think she’ll like it?’