All She Wants For Christmas

She had drawn the line at letting him into her bedroom but after seeing the waterlogged state of her bed had reluctantly called him to help her tip the mattress on one side against the wall. They had gathered up her soaking quilt and some of her clothes and put them into plastic bags in the boot of Matt’s car and Beth had picked up her photo albums and her jewellery box and tucked them away on the back seat. Almost as an afterthought she had fetched her laptop, which seemed to have survived the deluge, and had found that Matt had picked up her textphone and was carefully wiping it dry.

With one load of clothes in the washing machine and another in the dryer, Beth finally allowed herself to relax into the sofa in front of the open fire at Matt’s, watching the logs sizzle and spit as heat drove the moisture from them. Jack had claimed a place next to her and Matt had prepared soup with French bread for them all.

‘That was nice. Must be home-made, it’s got chunky bits.’

‘My mother makes it. My parents live close by and she delivers it by the gallon and puts it in the freezer.’ Matt was sitting on an easy chair, drawn up by the fire, inspecting her textphone. He had changed into jeans and a sweater and his short fair hair was dishevelled from where he had been running his hand through it, making him look even more like a grown-up version of the child that was currently dozing in her arms.

Beth tried not to look at his hands as his long fingers set to work, teasing the back off her phone. Capable hands, which looked as if they could be as gentle as they were precise. He wore no wedding ring and she wondered whether he had done once.

‘So you grew up around here?’

‘Yes. You?’

‘London.’ Beth tucked her legs under her on the sofa, letting Jack slide into her lap, feeling herself relax in the heat from the fire. ‘My family’s pretty scattered now, though. My parents moved down to the South Coast when Dad retired and my younger brother’s in the States. He’s a member of a Deaf Theatre Company over there.’

‘Sounds interesting. What does he do?’

‘He’s an actor. They’re based in New York but they take their productions all over the country. He loves it.’

‘The pull of an audience can be very seductive.’ There was an edge to Matt’s voice.

‘Oh, Nathan’s got his priorities right. He’s just married a really nice girl—she keeps him grounded.’

‘Smart guy.’ The bitterness in Matt’s tone was unmistakable now and he changed the subject quickly. ‘Are your parents deaf as well?’

‘My father is. Mum’s hearing.’ Beth took a deep breath. She may as well say it. She was proud of who she was and was damned if she was going to hide it as if it were some kind of embarrassing secret. ‘I have autosomal dominant deafness. That means …’

He silenced her with an amused look. ‘I know. One dominant gene, inherited from your father, and not a recessive gene inherited from each parent.’

Of course he knew. Genetics 101. ‘Yes. Mum and Dad knew pretty much what to expect when they had children. With the dominant gene there was always going to be a fifty-fifty chance of each of us being deaf.’ Her throat constricted suddenly as if she was being choked.

‘But your mother saw past that.’

‘Yeah. Just as well for me and my brothers.’ Pete hadn’t. Neither had his mother, who had already persuaded him that he was perfect and didn’t have much difficulty convincing him that his children should be, too.

Beth looked down at the child dozing in her lap. She was surrounded by all the things that Pete had promised her and then reneged on. All the things she had sworn she wouldn’t think about any more. She began to feel sick again.

‘Are you okay?’ Beth focused back on Matt with an effort of will and saw concern in his face. ‘You look very pale.’

‘Yes, fine.’

‘Sure you don’t feel dizzy? Or hot and cold?’

‘No. Neither.’ The room had stopped lurching now, and the heat from the fire was warming her again.

‘Nausea?’

‘No.’ The feeling had passed and Matt’s obvious frustration at her lack of symptoms was making her feel much better.

‘May I take your pulse?’

‘I’ll do it.’ Beth wasn’t sure if her heart really did beat twice as fast whenever he touched her but she wasn’t taking any chances. She counted off the beats against the second hand of the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Dead on sixty.’

‘Hmm. Very good. Excellent, in fact. Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘I’m not in shock.’

‘You probably are, very slightly. Anyone would be after tonight.’ He sighed and gave up. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in offering you a non-medicinal drop of brandy.’

Beth giggled. The way this man could take her from the depths of depression back to laughter in a matter of minutes was frightening. ‘That sounds more like it. Thanks, just a splash.’

He rose and opened the glass door of a cabinet fitted in the alcove beside the chimney breast, withdrawing two cut-glass tumblers and a brandy bottle. Pouring a couple of mouthfuls into each, he placed one next to her and returned to his seat with the other. Jack stirred, reaching out for her, and Beth coiled her arm back around him. Tipping her glass towards Matt in a silent toast, she took a sip of the brandy and settled back against the cushions. Crisis over.

It made Matt smile, seeing the two of them like this on the sofa, Jack curled up in Beth’s arms, sleeping peacefully. Her eyes were luminous in the firelight and she looked even smaller, even more fine-boned in the rolled-up jogging pants and sweatshirt he had lent her.

He picked up the textphone, which lay beside his chair, and finally managed to prise the cover free. Water dribbled out over his jeans and he brushed it away, sending the drops fizzing into the fire.

Looking up, he realised that she had been watching him and heat started to build in his chest. The thought of her eyes on his hands, his lips, became almost too much to bear and he smiled awkwardly.

‘We’ll leave this open to dry out overnight and try it in the morning. It should be all right.’ It seemed so natural to say we and he liked the fact that she gave the slightest of nods in response, as if she, too, accepted that for tonight at least they were a single unit. For the moment, anyway, she seemed to have abandoned her stubborn independence, melting into the small family by the fireside, somehow making both him and Jack whole again.

She was sipping the small portion of brandy he had allowed her, watching as he laid the phone out to dry by the hearth. ‘So how’s Jack settling in?’

‘It’s early days but he seems to be doing well. He loves being near my parents and his new school is great. I think it’s made a big difference, getting away from the old house. He sleeps a lot better now.’

‘That’s good. A decent night’s sleep always helps you face the day.’

‘Yeah. I used to get up in the middle of the night and find him sitting downstairs, waiting for his mother to come home.’ Matt pressed his lips together. Jack had done that regularly before his mother had died, as well as after.

Her fingers tightened around Jack’s shoulders, as if she wanted to pull him close and hug him but was afraid of waking him. ‘Well, he seems to be ready to talk a little about how he feels. It was a privilege to be there this afternoon.’

‘I’m thankful that you were.’ Matt could see why Jack had opened up to Beth. It was hard not to. But there were things he would never tell anyone, not even if Beth taught him the signs for them.

‘Jack said his mother died in a car accident. I’m sorry I didn’t realise that when I brought him down to see you this afternoon. It must have been a shock to hear that he’d almost been knocked down.’ She twisted her fingers together.

Matt’s heart felt as if it was actually melting. The sensation was an odd one and not entirely pleasant. ‘Thank you, but it’s okay.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of reassurance. ‘He was there with you and I could see he was all right. And my wife wasn’t knocked down by a car. She’d been working away from home for a week and was driving back to London on the Friday evening when her car skidded on a patch of ice on the motorway.’

Beth’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry. That she never got home.’

She hadn’t been on her way home. She’d been on her way to a hotel, with her lover. Matt swallowed the truth, but couldn’t bring himself to offer up the usual lie. ‘Thank you.’ He opted for a brisk change of subject. ‘It’s getting late. I’d better get this little guy up to bed.’ He rose and lifted the sleeping boy out of Beth’s arms, briefly scenting her hair before he managed to put some space between them again.

Jack stirred and rubbed his eyes. ‘Story, Dad.’

‘You bet. Let’s get you upstairs and we’ll have a story there.’

‘Why not down here?’ Matt knew what Jack was angling for. He wanted Beth to tell him a story.

‘No, mate.’ He retrieved the copy of Robin Hood and his Merrie Men from where Jack had dumped it that morning and tucked it against his chest. ‘Beth probably doesn’t like Robin Hood.’

He could see from her face that she wouldn’t have minded reading Jack’s bedtime story one little bit. He minded, though. Having Beth read to Jack, when his mother had made so little effort to be home in time to do so, would have been like rubbing salt into open wounds.

‘Okay. Just you and me, Dad. The two musketeers.’ Jack snuggled into his chest and the familiar, overpowering need to protect him surged through Matt. He couldn’t risk the possibility of his son going through the pain of abandonment for a second time. He couldn’t take the risk for himself either. As far as Beth was concerned, friendship wasn’t just the best option, it was the only option.

Regret hung in the air for a brief moment, before dispersing under the relentless pressure of his resolve. As if to prove to himself that he could do it, Matt wrenched his gaze away from Beth and then turned, making for the stairs.

CHAPTER FOUR

LEFT alone, Beth collected the mugs and plates from the table by the fire and took them into the kitchen, washing them and putting them away. Walking back into the sitting room, she realised what had seemed odd to her about the place. It was comfortable, practical and quietly stylish but all the furniture seemed new and everything was arranged just so. Apart from a mess of toys and books to one side of the hearth, there were none of the quirky, out-of-place bits and pieces that were collected over time, and which made her own cottage seem like a home.

Almost the only personal things in the room were a group of picture frames grouped on the dresser, and Beth paused to look at them. Matt and Jack. Matt with an older man and woman, and a young woman who was so like him she had to be his sister. She picked up a third picture, one of Jack with a different woman, his arms flung around her neck. The woman was dark, well groomed and looked into the camera with a self-possessed smile that seemed vaguely familiar.

This must be Matt’s wife. The woman who ought to be here with him and Jack, while Beth should be at home, where she belonged. Her fingers trembled as she went to replace the photograph and she started guiltily to find Matt standing beside her.

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’ Once again he had surprised her snooping.

Matt shrugged. ‘What for?’ He picked up the photo and looked at it thoughtfully. ‘That’s Jack’s mother, Mariska.’

Mariska Sutherland. The name rang a bell, too. ‘She was very beautiful.’ She wished that she was not wearing clothes that were at least four sizes too big and feeling unbearably dowdy in comparison.

Matt nodded absently. ‘She was a journalist, and she travelled a lot for her work.’ It was like a well-rehearsed answer to a question she hadn’t even asked.

Beth remembered now. ‘I’ve seen her show. I don’t usually catch daytime TV but I recorded the programme she did on cochlear implants. I thought it was very good—very clear and even-handed.’ All of the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room and she was struggling to breathe, let alone find the right words to say. ‘It must have been a terrible shock to lose her so suddenly.’

Matt gave her an odd look that she couldn’t quite fathom. ‘Yeah. Although she was away from home a lot. In many ways Jack and I were used to being on our own.’ He fixed his eyes on the floor, studying it intently. ‘He went to sleep straight away tonight, though. Stayed awake long enough to ask if you’d be here in the morning and then he was out like a light. I didn’t even get as far as Robin Hood.’

Beth grinned. ‘I don’t have anywhere else to go. Not till tomorrow, anyway.’

He nodded and for a moment their eyes locked. She felt as if she was falling towards him, into him, stopping only to brush the softness of his lips. Beth broke free with an effort and took a step back from him.

He made no indication of having noticed. ‘It’s been a tough day for all of us. I’m ready to drop. Make yourself at home here and sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.’

He turned abruptly, not waiting for her answer, and made for the fireplace, raking over the ashes to make sure that they were properly extinguished and closing the damper to conserve the heat in the room. He paused only to issue a curt ‘Goodnight’ in Beth’s direction and then he was gone.

Mariska’s portrait drew her attention back over to the sideboard. She’d been accomplished, beautiful and successful. This was the kind of woman that someone like Matt could love—that he had loved. If Beth had needed any proof that her reaction to Matt’s smile and the brush of his fingers was strictly one-sided, then here it was.

A stab of regret gave way to a grin. Could she be any more perverse if she tried? One minute she was willing Matt to be out of reach and the next she was regretting the fact that he was. Beth rolled her eyes at her own foolishness, collected her handbag and padded up the stairs to the room that was to be hers for the night.

It appeared that father and son were working as a team the following morning. As Jack helped Beth fold her clean clothes into a pile, ready to take back with her, Matt disappeared into the garage, reappearing again with a workmanlike toolbox and a length of copper pipe, which he loaded into the boot of his car along with the rest of her possessions.

From the way that they were both dressed, jeans, heavy jumpers and in Matt’s case a pair of thick-soled boots, it looked unlikely that he intended to simply drop her off at her cottage. As Matt produced a pair of red Wellingtons and a second pair of socks, insisting that Jack put them on, Beth wondered what he was intending to do with his morning, and when he intended to inform her about it.

Her cottage looked deceptively cheery from the outside, but inside it was a very different matter. The place was already beginning to smell damp and everything was cold and wet, including the walls. Matt dumped his toolbox in the hall and peered up the stairs at the loft hatch. ‘I’ll just go and take a look in the loft. Have you got a ladder?’

‘Please, you’ve done enough already. I texted Marcie this morning and she and her husband should be here in a couple of hours.’

He gave her a hurt look. ‘I’m pretty handy with a wrench. Learned all I know from my father—he’s a plumber and electrician by trade and has his own contracting company. He was very upset when I failed to follow in his footsteps and went to medical school.’

Matt’s lopsided grin gave the lie to any disappointment on his father’s part. A vision of what else Matt might be handy with flew into her head and she turned to Jack, trying to ignore the heat that was spreading through her. ‘Is there any end to your dad’s talents?’

‘Well, as Jack points out, I’m pretty deficient when it comes to signing. So I’ll just leave you two down here to send a few secret messages to each other while you’re mopping up.’ He gave her a wink, and suddenly he became an essential part of the rest of her morning.

Jack stamped on the wet carpet, his Wellington boots throwing up little splashes of water, and Beth couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I guess I don’t have much choice.’

‘No, you don’t. Jack, find the torch for me, will you?’

By the time Matt reappeared from the loft, an hour later, Beth was wiping the kitchen cupboards dry and Jack was tipping water from cups and bowls into the sink. His jeans were grimy from the loft and a streak of dirt ran across his brow, where he had obviously swept his hand across it. He looked about ten years younger and a world away from the tightly buttoned man that she had met yesterday.

‘Will you turn the water on if I shout when I’m ready?’ He took the stairs two at a time when she nodded her assent, and she craned to watch him disappear up through the loft hatch on the upstairs landing.

Matt’s ’Okay’ came booming down the stairs and Beth twisted the stopcock, hearing the pipes gurgle and bang as water rushed through them. She held her breath, waiting for any signs of a leak. Jack capered at the bottom of the stairs and turned to her as she strained to hear Matt’s muffled voice.

‘Dad says that it’s all okay up there.’ Jack skipped over to her and flung his arms round her neck and Beth stood up, lifting Jack with her and swinging him around. Suddenly her little house was hers again. The unruly cascades of water were back under control and she could start to think about cleaning up properly. After the shock of last night, when it had felt as if her whole world was crumbling around her, this was a huge step.

Matt appeared, grinning at his success, and before she knew what she was doing, Beth had laid her free hand on his shoulder and stood on her toes to brush a brief kiss across his cheek. Remembering herself, she drew back suddenly and found that Matt’s hand had snaked around her, his palm on the small of her back. As quickly as she felt it there, he pulled away, almost as if she had burned him, and he took a step back.

‘Water’s back on.’ He was grinning sheepishly.

Beth pulled at the sleeve of her jumper, feeling as self-conscious as Matt looked. ‘Thank you.’

Now that a couple of feet separated them, he was more at ease. ‘A pleasure, ma’am. Now, lets see how much water has got into the electrics. If I can isolate the circuit for the heating, it would be good to get that working at least.’

Beth’s phone vibrated and she hastily put another couple of yards between her and Matt as she looked at the screen. Marcie had got her text from this morning and was on her way over with James and double-strength cappuccinos to inspect the damage.

Matt was tinkering with the light switches, opening them up and allowing the water to drain out of them, when Beth saw the silver SUV manoeuvre along the lane and draw up behind Matt’s Mercedes. Before Marcie or James had the opportunity to get out of the vehicle, she was jogging down the front path towards them.

Fortunately, little seemed to be able to penetrate their shared glow of good humour this morning. Beth’s sleeping arrangements last night and Matt’s presence here now were accepted without comment from Marcie and with an observation from James that he was glad she hadn’t been trying to deal with this all on her own.

Marcie plucked two of the cardboard cups from the holder on her lap and handed them through the open window with a grin. Since Beth had already been rescued and it was unlikely that any further rescuing was going to be needed for the next hour, they would go and fetch Josh and Anna straight away.

When Beth let herself back into the house, Matt was in the hallway, looking as if he might be doing something. ‘Was that Marcie?’

‘Yes, and James, her husband. Here, they brought coffee.’ She handed him one of the cups. ‘There’s sugar in the kitchen if you want it.’

‘No, this is fine, thanks.’ He wound his fingers around the tall cardboard cup, and Beth saw that they were red from the cold. He’d been working without gloves and although his down jacket was thick enough to keep him warm, his hands must be freezing.

‘They’re just going to pick the children up from Marcie’s parents, and then they’ll come back here. James said they’ll stop off and hire a couple of those industrial blow heaters on the way. They’ll be back in an hour.’

‘Great. Well, I should be able to isolate the power circuits from the lighting ones by then, and we’ll be able to get some heat in here.’ He seemed in no mood to hurry away. Pleasure at the reprieve sneaked up and stabbed Beth in the back, like a treacherous lover.

However much she wanted to, though, she couldn’t keep him there. ‘Look, you’ve already done too much. It’s not that I’m not grateful, Matt, but you must have a whole load of things to do. I’m okay, really.’

His eyes wandered around the wet hallway. ‘Yeah, I can see that.’ He lifted the lid of the cardboard cup and took a mouthful of the hot coffee. ‘Let’s just get on here. I’d be happier if we got the electricity back on. What do you think, Jack?’ He glanced down at Jack, who had been standing between them, following the conversation.

‘Yeah. We can’t leave you on your own. You need our help.’ Jack was obviously repeating his father’s words to her and they stung like crazy. Did she really appear that pathetic? Beth laid her coffee cup down on the hall table, and bent down to face him.

‘But it’s really cold here, Jack. Aren’t you getting cold?’ She pulled off his glove and felt his hand. It was as warm as toast.

‘No.’ There was obvious solidarity between father and son on this point.

‘And we’re new in town here, remember? We’re not exactly overwhelmed with places to go and people to see yet,’ Matt broke in.

‘In that case … . Well, if you’d really like to stay on and meet Marcie and James, that would be great. Marcie was going to take her two home for lunch and then to the cinema this afternoon to let James and I get on here. Perhaps Jack would like to go along with them.’

Matt looked at Jack for confirmation. ‘Would you like to go to the cinema with Marcie? I’ll stay here with Beth and pick you up afterwards.’ He might be perfectly capable of steam-rollering over Beth’s wishes, but at least he listened to those of his six-year-old.

‘Yeah, Dad.’ Jack was practically running on the spot in a little dance of excitement. ‘Is it the film about the fishes? Marcie and I drew some fishes on Mrs Green’s card yesterday.’

Beth nodded. ‘That’s the one. Afterwards, perhaps you and your dad will come with us for something to eat.’ Matt drew a breath to speak and Beth cut him short before he could say no. ‘There’s a new Italian restaurant in town. Meant to be very good and it’s family friendly.’

‘Well …’

‘I insist. My shout. It’s the least I can do. Josh and Anna are around Jack’s age, so we won’t be making a late night of it.’

‘I’m—’

‘Go on, Dad!’ Jack was tugging at his jacket. ‘We never go anywhere.’ Now Matt was on the end of Jack’s propensity to reveal the uncomfortable. He had clearly not been exaggerating when he had indicated that their social life wasn’t exactly glittering at the moment.

Matt held up his hands, laughing. ‘Hold on a minute!’ Beth wasn’t sure whether the instruction extended to her or not, but she fell silent anyway.

‘Thank you—yes, we’d love to come.’ He raised one eyebrow at Jack, who was too pleased with the acceptance to notice. Matt’s grin became broader and Beth took Jack’s lead and ignored him.

‘Good. In that case I’ll just be getting on with something.’ Anything to conceal her flustered delight. She took Jack’s hand and led him into the kitchen, wondering what on earth she had just let herself in for.

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