The Unexpected Holiday Gift. Sophie Pembroke
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circumstances—with less than a fortnight to go, not to mention this being your father’s last Christmas—I am sure that you will want to select them yourself.’ She stared at him until he seemed to get the idea that this was not a suggestion.
‘But what would I buy them?’ He looked so adorably flustered at the very idea that for a moment Clara forgot that she was testing him.
Then she realised this could be an even better opportunity.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said, making it clear that this was a favour, just for him. ‘Why don’t we go shopping together and choose them?’
‘That would be great.’ The relief was evident in his voice.
‘Right now,’ Clara finished, and his eyebrows shot up.
‘Now? But I’m working.’
‘So am I,’ she pointed out. ‘By taking a client shopping.’
‘Yes, but I can’t just leave! There are meetings. Emails. Important decisions to be made.’
‘Like whether your sister would prefer a handbag or a scarf.’
‘Like the future of the company!’
Now it was Clara’s turn to raise her eyebrows. ‘Do you really expect that to come up in the three hours you’ll be gone?’
‘Three hours!’ Clara waited and finally he sighed. ‘No, I suppose not.’
‘Then I think that your father’s last Christmas might matter rather more than emails and meetings. Don’t you?’
He looked torn and Clara held her breath until, finally, he said, ‘Yes. It does.’
She grinned. The old Jacob would never have left work at 9:00 a.m. on a weekday to go Christmas shopping. Ha! He’d never left work or done Christmas shopping.
Maybe he really had changed after all. She could hope so. After all, Christmas was the season of hope and goodwill. Even towards ex-husbands.
* * *
‘What about this?’ Clara held up a gossamer-thin scarf in various shades of purple that Jacob suspected cost more than his entire suit. Everything else Clara had suggested had and, since his suit had been handmade especially for him, that was quite an achievement.
‘For Mum?’ he asked with a frown.
‘No. For Heather.’ Clara sighed. Jacob had a feeling she was starting to regret her insistence on taking him shopping.
‘She’s a student,’ he pointed out. ‘She wouldn’t wear something like that.’
‘She graduating this summer, right? So she’ll have interviews, internships, all sorts of professional opportunities coming her way. A statement accessory like this can make any outfit look polished.’ As always, Clara had a point. He’d almost forgotten how irritating that was.
‘Maybe,’ he allowed. But Clara was already walking on, probably in search of an even more expensive gift for his sister. He didn’t begrudge spending the money but he was beginning to think this was some sort of game for Clara. She’d certainly never encouraged him to buy such luxurious gifts for her.
The high-end shopping district Clara had directed the taxi to was filled with tiny boutiques, all stocking a minimum of products at maximum cost. Even the Christmas decorations strung between the shops on either side of the street, high above the heads of the passing shoppers, were discreet, refined and—Jacob was willing to bet—costly.
‘Is this where you usually shop for your clients?’ he asked, lengthening his stride to catch up with her as she swung into another shop.
Clara shrugged. ‘Sometimes. It depends on the client.’
Which told him nothing. Jacob wasn’t entirely sure why he was so interested in the day-to-day details of her job, but he suspected it had something to do with never realising she wanted one. He’d thought he’d known Clara better than anyone in the world, and that she’d known him just as well. It had been a jolt to discover there were some parts of her he’d never known at all. What if this entrepreneurial side of her was just the start?
Of course, for all that he’d shared with Clara, there were some things he’d kept back too. He couldn’t entirely blame her for that.
‘This would be just right for your father.’ Jacob turned to find her holding up a beautifully wrought dark leather briefcase, with silver detailing and exquisite stitching. She was right; his father would love it. Except...
‘He won’t be coming in to the office much longer.’ It still caught him by surprise, almost daily. In some ways, he suspected he was in denial as much as Heather; he wanted to believe that if he could just make Christmas perfect then the rest would fall into place.
But he couldn’t save his father’s life. Even if a part of him felt he should be able to, if he just worked long enough, tried hard enough. If he was good enough.
Jacob knew he’d never been good enough, had known it long before his father fell sick.
Clara dropped the briefcase back onto the shelf. ‘You’re right. Come on.’
Even Jacob had to agree the next shop was spot on.
‘You want something your dad can enjoy.’ Clara opened her arms and gestured to the bottles of vintage wine lining the shelves. ‘From what I remember, this should suit him.’
Jacob smiled, turning slowly to take in the selection. ‘Yes, I think this will do nicely.’
One in-depth conversation with the proprietor later, and Jacob felt sure that he had the perfect gift for at least one member of his family, ready to be delivered directly to Clara’s offices in time to be shipped up to Scotland.
‘How are they all?’ Clara asked as she led him into a tiny arcade off the main street. The shops inside looked even more sparse and expensive. ‘Your family, I mean. The news about your dad... It must have been terrible for you all. I can’t imagine.’
‘It was,’ Jacob said simply. ‘It still is. Mum... She takes everything in her stride—you know her. But Heather’s still hoping for a miracle, I think.’
Clara looked sideways at him. ‘And you’re not?’
‘Perhaps,’ he admitted. ‘It’s just too hard to imagine a world without him.’
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