Snowed In For Christmas. Caroline Anderson
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me? You’ve helped me decorate my tree.’
‘And we’ve done it for my son, which has meant not being able to use all your lovely decorations and smothering the bottom of it in all sorts of weird home-made bits and pieces, which I’m perfectly sure wasn’t your intention, so—yes, thank you.’
The frown deepened for a moment, then cleared as he shook his head and looked back at the tree.
‘Actually, I rather like all the home-made things,’ he said after a moment, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.
‘Especially the gingerbread trees and stars,’ she said, trying to lighten the moment. ‘And don’t think I haven’t noticed that every time you “accidentally” bump into the tree another one breaks so you get to eat it. Between you and Josh there are hardly any left.’
He grinned. ‘I don’t know what you mean. And if we’re running out, it’s your fault. I told you to make plenty.’
She rolled her eyes and rested her head back against the sofa cushions with a lazy groan. ‘This is really comfortable,’ she mumbled.
‘It is. I love this room. I think it’s probably my favourite room in the whole house.’
Because they’d never made any plans for it? Maybe, she thought, considering it. Or had they? Hadn’t there been some mention of it being a playroom for all the hordes of children? But they hadn’t spent any significant time in it. Not like the bedroom. Maybe that made the difference.
Or maybe he just liked it.
She rolled her head towards him and changed the subject.
‘So, what’s the programme for tomorrow? Since you have such strong opinions on how it should be done...’
Another grin flashed across his face. ‘Cheeky.’ He hitched his leg up, resting his arm on the back of the sofa and propping his head on his hand so he was facing her, thoughtful now.
‘I think that probably depends on you and Josh. What are you going to do about presents for him? Are you going to wait until you’re with your parents?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. He was really excited about the tree and he knows there will be presents under it because they had them at nursery, so I think there probably should be something for him to find tomorrow, otherwise it might be a bit of an anti-climax.’
‘You don’t think it will anyway, with just us and a few presents instead of a big family affair? Wouldn’t you rather wait?’
‘Do you think I should?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s up to you, but it makes me feel a bit awkward because there isn’t one from me, and it’ll look as if I don’t care and I’d hate him to think that, but obviously I haven’t got anything to give him. Either of you.’
She stared at him, unbearably touched that he should feel so strongly about it—and so wrongly. She reached out a hand to him, grasping his and squeezing it.
‘Oh, Sebastian. You’re giving us Christmas! How much more could we possibly ask? You’ve opened your home to us, let us create absolute havoc in it, we’ve taken it over completely so you haven’t even been able to work, and—well, frankly, without you we might not even be alive for it, so I really don’t think you need to worry about some gaudy plastic toy wrapped up and stuck under the tree! In the grand scheme of things, what you’ve given him—given us—is immeasurable, and whatever else is going on between us, I’ll never forget that.’
Sebastian frowned again—he was doing that a lot—and turned away, his jaw working.
‘He’s just a kid, George,’ he said gruffly.
‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘And for some reason that really seems to get to you.’
He shrugged and eased his hand away, as if the contact made him uncomfortable. ‘I don’t like to think of kids being unhappy at Christmas. Or ever. Any time. And as I’ve said, I’ve got nothing else to do and nowhere else to be. So—presents, or not presents?’
She thought about it for a moment. Her parents had spoiled him on his birthday just four weeks ago, and he’d had so many presents he hadn’t really known what to play with first. And there was nothing here in the house, really, that he could play with safely.
And then she had an idea that would solve it all. ‘I think—presents? Or some of them, at least. I’ve got him a wooden train set, and it comes in two boxes. There’s the main set, and there are some little people and a bench and trees and things in another box. You could give him that, if you’re really worried about him having something from you under the tree.’
‘Don’t you mind?’
She laughed. ‘Why should I mind? He’s still getting the toy, and it would give him something constructive to play with while we’re stuck here. And I’ve got a little stocking for him from Father Christmas. That ought to go up tonight because he’s bound to get up early.’
‘Does he even know who Father Christmas is?’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t know. We went to see him, but I’m not sure he was that impressed. He looked a bit worried, to be honest, but it might make him like the old guy a bit better if he brings him chocolate.’
They shared a smiled, and he nodded.
‘You could hang it from the beam over the fire.’
‘I could. We might need to let the fire go out first, though, so the chocolate buttons don’t melt.’
‘Ah. Yes, of course. Good plan. Well, if we let it die down now, it should be all right by the end of the evening. It can go at the side, out of the direct heat. And, yes, please, if I can put my name on the other box of train stuff, that would be good. But you must let me pay you for it.’
She just laughed at that, it was so outrageous. ‘You have to be kidding! The amount you’re spending on us already? I’ll have you know I eat a lot on Christmas Day.’
‘Good. Have you seen the size of the goose?’
‘We have goose?’ she said, her jaw dropping open in delight. ‘Oh, wow, I love goose! What stuffing?’
‘Prune and apple and Armagnac,’ he told her, and she sighed with contentment and slumped back onto the sofa cushions, grinning.
‘Oh, joy. Deep, deep joy. Bring it on...’
He laughed and stood up, slapping her leg lightly in passing. ‘That’s your job. I have no idea how to cook a goose, especially not in an Aga, so I was hoping you’d do it. Shall I get the presents?’
‘I’ll come. I only want a few. Where did you put them?’
‘In my room.’
Ah.
Was her face so transparent? Because he took one look at her and smiled and shook his head.
‘You’re perfectly safe, George. I’m not going to do anything crazy.’
No. And wishing she wouldn’t be quite so perfectly safe was crazy. Utterly crazy. Good job one of them was thinking clearly.
She nodded slowly and stood up. ‘OK. We’ll just get the train set boxes and the stocking and leave the rest for when I’m with my parents. Then I can just put the whole bag in the car when I leave.’
* * *
He didn’t want her to leave.
It dawned on him suddenly, with a dip in his stomach, as they went upstairs to the bedroom, walking up side by side as if they were going to bed.
And he needed to stop thinking about that right there before he embarrassed them both.
He pushed the door open and flicked on the light. ‘They’re in here,’ he said, and let her through