Читать книгу Fairytale With The Single Dad - Алисон Робертс - Страница 15

SOMEHOW IT HAD become December, and November had passed in a moment. A moment when natural sleep had continued to elude her, but her strange, mixed feelings for the new village doctor had not.

She’d listened as her own clients had chatted with her about the new doctor, smiled when they’d joked about how gorgeous he was, how heroic he was. Had she heard that he’d saved lives already? One woman in the village, who really ought to have known better, had even joked and blushed about Dr Jones giving her the kiss of life! Sydney had smiled politely, but inside her heart had been thundering.

She’d seen him fleetingly, here and there. A couple of times he’d waved at her. Once she’d bumped into him in the sandwich shop, just as a large dollop of coleslaw had squeezed itself from her crusty cob and splatted onto her top.

‘Oh!’ He’d laughed, rummaging in his pockets and pulling out a fresh white handkerchief. ‘Here—take this.’

She’d blushed madly, accepted his hankie, and then had stood there wiping furiously at her clothes, knowing that he was standing there, staring at her. When she’d looked up to thank him he’d blushed, and she’d wondered what he had been thinking about.

Then they’d both gone on their way, and she’d looked over her shoulder at him at the exact moment when he’d done the same.

She felt that strange undercurrent whenever they met, or whenever she saw him. She kept trying to ignore it. Trying to ignore him. But it was difficult. Her head and her heart had differing reactions. Her head told her to stay away and keep her distance. But her heart and her body sang whenever he was near, as if it was saying, Look, there he is! Give him a wave! Go and say hello! Touch him!

Today frost covered the ground like a smattering of icing sugar, and the village itself looked very picturesque. Sydney was desperate to get out and go for a walk around the old bridleways, maybe take a few pictures with her camera, but she couldn’t. There was far too much to do and she was running late for a committee meeting.

The Silverdale Christmas market and nativity was an annual festive occasion that was always held the week before Christmas. People came from all around the county, sometimes further from afield, and it was a huge financial boost to local businesses during the typically slower winter months. Unfortunately this year it was scheduled to fall on the one day that she dreaded. The anniversary of Olivia’s death.

Sydney had previously been one of the organisers, but after what had happened with Olivia she hadn’t been involved much. Barely at all. This year she’d decided to get back into it. She’d always been needed, especially where the animals were concerned. She’d used to judge the Best Pet show, and maintain the welfare of all the animals that got involved in the very real nativity—donkeys, sheep, cows, goats, even chickens and geese! But she’d also been in charge of the flower stalls and the food market.

It was a huge commitment, but one she had enjoyed in the past. And this year it would keep her busy. Would stop her thinking of another Christmas without her daughter. Stop her from wallowing in the fact that, yet again, she would not be buying her child any gifts to put under a non-existent tree.

She sat at the table with the rest of the committee, waiting for the last member to arrive. Dr Jones was late. Considerably so. And the more they waited, the more restless she got.

‘Perhaps we should just make a start and then fill Dr Jones in if he ever gets here?’ Sydney suggested.

Everyone else was about to agree when the door burst open and in he came, cheeks red from the cold outside, apologising profusely. ‘Sorry, everyone, I got called out to some stomach pains—which, surprisingly, turned out to be a bouncing baby boy.’

There were surprised gasps and cheers from the others.

‘Who’s had a baby?’ asked Malcolm, the chairman.

Nathan tucked his coat over the back of his chair. ‘Lucy Carter.’

Sydney sat forward, startled. ‘My Lucy Carter? My veterinary nurse?’

His gaze met hers and he beamed a smile at her which went straight to her heart. ‘The very same.’

‘B-but…she wasn’t pregnant!’ she spluttered with indignation.

‘The baby in her arms would beg to differ!’

‘But…’

She couldn’t believe it! Okay, Lucy had put some weight on recently, but they’d put that down to those extra chocolate bars she’d been eating… Pregnant? That’s amazing! She felt the need to go and see her straight away. To give her a hug and maybe get a cuddle with the newborn.

‘It was a shock for everyone involved. But they’re both doing well and everyone’s happy. She told me to let you know.’

A baby. For Lucy. That was great news. And such a surprise!

It meant more work for Sydney for a bit, of course, but she’d cope. She could get an agency member of staff in. It would be weird, not seeing Lucy at work for a while. They’d always worked together. They knew each other’s ways and foibles.

She sighed. Everyone else seemed to be moving on. Lucy and her new baby. Alastair and his new bride, with a baby on the way. Everyone was getting on with their lives. And she…? She was still here. In the village she’s been born in. With no child. No husband. No family of her own except her elderly parents, who lived too far away anyway.

She looked across at Nathan as he settled into his seat and felt a sudden burst of irritation towards him. She’d been looking forward to getting involved in these meetings again, getting back out there into the community, and yet now her feelings towards him were making her feel uncomfortable. Was it because he’d brought news that meant her life was going to change again?

‘Let’s get started, shall we?’ suggested Malcolm. ‘First off, I’d like to welcome Dr Nathan Jones to the committee. He has taken over the role from its previous incumbent, Dr Richard Preston.’

The group clapped, smiled and nodded a welcome for their new member. Sydney stared at him, her face impassive. He looked ridiculously attractive today. Fresh-faced. Happy. She focused on his hands. Hands that had just recently delivered a baby. And she felt guilty for having allowed herself to succumb to that brief, petty jealousy. She looked up at his face and caught him looking at her, and she looked away, embarrassed.

‘I’d also like to welcome Sydney back to the committee! Sydney, as I’m sure most of you know, took a little…sabbatical, if you will, from the organisation of this annual event, and I’m most pleased to have her back in full fighting form!’

She smiled as she felt all eyes turn to her, and nodded hellos to the group members she knew well and hadn’t worked with for so long. It did feel good to be back here and doing something for the community again. The Christmas market and nativity was something she hadn’t been able to find any pleasure in for some time, but now she was ready.

At least she hoped she was.

‘The market is going to be held in the same place as always—the centre of the village square—and I believe we’ve already got lots of things in place from last year. Miriam?’

Miriam, the secretary, filled them in on all the recent developments. Lots of the same stalls that came every year had rebooked. Music was going to be covered by the same brass band, and the school was going to provide a choir as well.

Sydney listened, scribbling things down on her pad that she’d need to remember, and thought of past activities. There was a lot to take in—she’d forgotten how much organising there was!—and as her list got longer and longer she almost wished she could write with both hands.

She’d also forgotten how soothing these meetings could be sometimes. The hum of voices, the opinions of everyone on how things should be done, the ebb and flow of ideas… She truly appreciated the need for all this planning and preparation. Even though sometimes the older members of the committee enjoyed their dedication to picking over details a little too much.

Briefly, she allowed her mind to wander, and the memory that sprang to her mind was of a happier year, when Olivia had played the part of Mary in the nativity. In the weeks beforehand Sydney had taught her how to ride the donkey, shown her how to behave around the other animals. She remembered holding her daughter’s hand as they walked through the market stalls, making sure she didn’t eat too many sweets or pieces of cake, and listening to her singing carols in the choir.

She smiled, feeling a little sad. She had those memories on camera. Alastair had videoed Olivia riding the donkey in the nativity, with her fake pregnancy bump. Olivia had loved that belly, rubbing her hands over it like a real pregnant mother soothing away imaginary kicks.

‘And that brings us back to our star players for the nativity,’ Malcolm continued. ‘I have been reliably informed by Miss Howarth of Silverdale Infants School that our Mary this year will be played by Anna Jones, and Joseph will be Barney Brooks…’

Sydney was pulled from her reverie. Anna? Dr Jones’s Anna? She was going to play Mary? Visions flashed through her mind. Anna wearing Olivia’s costume… Anna riding Olivia’s donkey… Anna being the star of the show…?

It simply hadn’t occurred to her when she came back that someone else would be playing Olivia’s part. But of course. There had already been new Marys in the years that she’d stayed away. She’d just not seen them, hiding away in her house every year, longing to clap her hands over her ears to blot out the sound of all those Christmas revellers. It had been torture!

It hurt to hear it. It was as if Olivia had been replaced. Had been forgotten…

Her chair scraped loudly on the floor as she stood, grabbing her notepad and pen, her bag and coat, and muttering apologies before rushing from the room, feeling sick.

She thought she was on her own. She thought she would get to her own car in peace. But just as she was inserting her key into the lock of her car she heard her name being called.

‘Sydney!’

She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to be polite and make small talk with whoever it was. She just wanted to go. Surely they wouldn’t mind? Surely they’d understand?

She got into her seat and was about to close the door when Nathan appeared at her side, holding the car door so she couldn’t close it.

‘Hey! Are you okay?’

Why was he here? Why was he even bothering to ask? Why had he come after her?

‘I just want to go, Nathan.’

‘Something’s upset you?’

‘No, honestly. I just want to get home, that’s all.’

‘Is it Lucy? Are you worried about work?’

‘No.’ She slipped on her seatbelt and stared resolutely out through the windshield rather than looking at him. Her voice softened. ‘I’m thrilled for Lucy. Of course I am!’

‘Is it me?’

Now she looked at him, her eyes narrowing. ‘Why would it be you?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Things haven’t exactly been…straightforward. There’s a…a tension, between us. We didn’t exactly get off to the best start, did we?’

‘It’s not you,’ she lied.

‘Well, that’s good, because they’ve asked me to work closely with you, seeing as I’m new and you’re an established committee member.’

What? When did I miss that bit?

‘Oh.’

‘That’s quite good, really, because—as you heard—Anna came home from school today and told me she’s been picked to play the part of Mary. Apparently that means riding a donkey, and she’s never done that before, so…’

‘So?’

Push the memory away. Don’t think about it.

‘So we’ll need your help.’

He smiled at her. In that way he had. Disarming her and making her feel as if she ought to oblige him with her assistance. His charming eyes twinkling.

‘Know any good donkeys? Preferably something that isn’t going to buck and break her neck?’

There was someone in the village who kept donkeys. They were used every year for the nativity. And she trusted the animals implicitly.

‘Do you know the Bradleys? At Wicklegate Farm?’

He pretended to search his memory. ‘Erm…no.’

‘Do you know where Wicklegate Farm even is?’

He shook his head, smiling. ‘No.’

Feeling some of her inner struggle fade, she smiled back. Of course he didn’t. ‘I suppose I’d better help you, then. Are you free next Saturday?’

‘Saturday? All day.’

She nodded and started her engine. ‘I’ll pick you up at ten in the morning. I know your address. Does Anna have any riding clothes?’

‘Er…’

‘Anything she doesn’t mind getting dirty?’

‘My daughter is always happy to wallow in some mud.’

‘Good. Tell her I’m going to teach her how to ride a donkey.’

‘Thanks.’

He stood back at last, so she could finally close her car door. She was about to drive off, eager to get home, when Nathan rapped his knuckles on her glass.

She pressed the button to wind the window down, letting in the cold evening air. ‘What?’

‘Lucy’s at home. And waiting for your visit.’

She nodded, imagining Lucy in her small cottage, tucked up in bed, looking as proud as Punch with a big smile on her face.

‘Has she picked a name for him?’

‘I believe she has.’

‘What is it?’

He paused, clearly considering whether to say it or not. ‘She’s named him Oliver.’

Oliver. So close to…

A lump filled her throat and she blinked away tears. Had Lucy chosen that name in honour of her own daughter? If she had, then…

Sydney glanced up at Nathan. ‘I’ll see you on Saturday.’ And she quickly drove away, before he could see her cry.

Nathan had driven round to Paul and Helen’s to check up on them after the accident. They lived on the outskirts of Silverdale and were pretty easy to locate, and he pulled into their driveway feeling optimistic about what he would find. Helen had been released from hospital a while ago and he only needed to remove Paul’s stitches from the head laceration.

As he drove in he saw the horse grazing in a field, a blanket wrapped around its body, and smiled. They’d all been very lucky to escape as easily as they had. The accident could have been a lot worse.

But as he pulled up to the house, he spotted another vehicle.

Sydney’s.

Why was she here? To check on the horse? It had to be that. It was odd that she was here at the exact same time as him, though.

Just lately she’d been in his thoughts a lot. The universe seemed to be conspiring to throw the two of them together, and whilst he didn’t mind that part—she was, after all, a beautiful woman—she did tend to remind him of all his faults and of how he could never be enough for her.

His confidence had taken a knock after Gwyneth’s departure. Okay, they’d only been staying in their struggling relationship because she’d learnt she was expecting a baby and Nathan had wanted to be there for her. He’d always had his doubts, and she’d been incredibly high-maintenance, but he’d honestly believed she might change the closer she got to delivering. That they both would.

She hadn’t. It had still been, Me, me, me!

‘Look at all the weight I’m putting on!’

‘This pregnancy’s giving me acne!’

‘I’m getting varicose veins!’

‘You do realise after the birth I’m going straight back to work?’

Nathan had reassured her. Had promised her it would be amazing. But it had been his dream. Not hers.

It had only been when she’d left him for someone else that he’d realised how much relief he felt. It had stung that she’d left him for someone better. Someone unencumbered by ill health. Someone rich, who could give her the lifestyle she craved. But he’d felt more sorry for his baby girl, who would grow up with a mother who only had enough love for herself.

In the weeks afterwards, when he’d spent hours walking his baby daughter up and down as he tried to get her off to sleep, he’d begun to see how one-sided their relationship had always been.

Gwyneth had always been about appearances. Worrying about whether her hair extensions were the best. Whether her nails needed redoing. How much weight she was carrying. Whether she was getting promoted above someone else. She’d been a social climber—a girl who had been given everything she’d ever wanted by her parents and had come to expect the same in adulthood.

He’d fallen for her glamorous looks and the fact that in the beginning she’d seemed really sweet. But it had all been a snare. A trap. And he’d only begun to see the real Gwyneth when he’d got his diagnosis. Multiple sclerosis had scared her. The idea that she might become nursemaid to a man who wasn’t strong, the way she’d pictured him, had terrified her.

When Nathan had discovered his illness, and Gwyneth had learned that their perfect life was not so perfect after all, her outlook had changed and she’d said some pretty harsh things. Things he’d taken to heart. That he’d believed.

He didn’t want to burden Sydney with any of that.

She’d looked after his daughter for a few hours, she’d looked after and cured their rabbit, she was kind and strong…

She’s the sort of woman I would go out with if I could…

But he couldn’t.

She’d lost her only daughter. And where was the child’s father? From what he’d heard around the village, the father had left them just a couple of months after Olivia had passed away. Shocking them all.

It seemed the whole village had thought the Harpers were strong enough to get through anything. But of course no one could know how such a tragic death would affect them.

Hadn’t Sydney been through enough? He had a positive mind-set—even if he did sometimes take the things that Gwyneth had yelled at him to heart. He tried to remain upbeat. But just sometimes his mind would play tricks with him and say, Yeah, but what if she was right?

Besides, he wasn’t sure he could trust his own judgement about those kinds of things any more. Affairs of the heart. He’d felt so sure about Gwyneth once! In the beginning, anyway. And he’d wanted to do everything for her and the baby. Had wanted the family life that had been right there in front of him. Ready and waiting.

How wrong could he have been?

He’d been floored when she’d left. She’d been high-maintenance, but not once had he suspected that she would react that way to his diagnosis. To having a baby, even. She’d been horrified at what her life had become and had been desperate to escape the drudgery she’d foreseen.

And Nathan had known Gwyneth. Or thought he had.

He didn’t know Sydney. As much as he’d like to.

And he sure as hell didn’t want his heart—or Anna’s—broken again.

Getting out of the car, he looked up and saw Paul, Helen and Sydney coming out of the house. Helen was standing further back, her arms crossed.

‘Dr Jones! Good of you to call round! You’ve arrived just in time. Your wife was just about to leave.’

He instantly looked at Sydney. My wife?

Sydney blushed madly. ‘We’re not married!’

Paul looked between the two of them. ‘Oh, but we thought… Partners, then?’

‘No. Just…friends. Associates. We just happened to be in the car together, that’s all…’ he explained, feeling his voice tail off when he glanced at Sydney’s hot face.

‘Really? You two look perfect for each other.’ Paul smiled.

Nathan was a little embarrassed, but amused at the couple’s mistake. ‘Hello, Sydney. We seem to keep bumping into each other.’

She shook his hand in greeting. ‘We do.’

‘Did you get to see Lucy?’

‘I did. The baby is gorgeous.’

‘He is.’ He was still holding her hand. Still looking at her. Someone seemed to have pressed ‘pause’, because for a moment he lost himself, staring into her grey eyes. It was as if the rest of the world had gone away.

Paul and Helen looked at each other and cleared their throats and Nathan dropped Sydney’s hand.

‘You’re leaving?’

‘I just came to check on the horse. No after-effects from the accident.’

‘That’s good. How about you, Paul? Any headaches? Anything I should be worried about?’

‘No, Doc. All well and good, considering.’

‘How about you, Helen?’

‘I’m fine. Physically.’

‘That’s good.’

Sydney pulled her car keys from her pocket. ‘Well, I must dash. Good to see you all so well. Paul. Helen.’ She looked over at Nathan, her gaze lingering longer than it should. ‘Dr Jones.’

He watched her go. Watched as she started her engine, reversed, turned and drove out of the driveway. He even watched as her car disappeared out of sight, up the lane.

Suddenly remembering that he was there to see Paul and Helen, he turned back to them, feeling embarrassed. ‘Shall we go in? Get those stitches seen to?’

Paul nodded, draping his arm around Nathan’s shoulder conspiratorially. ‘Just friends, huh?’

He felt his cheeks colour. They’d caught him watching her. Seen how distracted she made him.

‘Just friends.’

Inside the house, Helen disappeared into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

‘So, Paul… How are you?’ He noted the stitches in his scalp. He’d certainly got a nasty laceration there, but apart from that obvious injury he seemed quite well.

‘I’m good, Doc, thanks.’ Paul settled into the chair opposite.

They had a lovely home. It was a real country cottage, with lots of character and tons of original features. There was a nice fire crackling away in the fireplace. It looked as if they were in the process of putting some Christmas decorations up.

‘So I need to remove your stitches. How many days have they been in?’

‘Too long! I’m really grateful for you coming out like this. I was going to make an appointment to come and say thanks to you. For saving me and Helen. And Brandon, too, of course.’

‘It wasn’t a problem. We were just in the right place at the right time.’

‘You were in the perfect place.’ He looked down at the floor and then got his next words out in a quiet rush, after he’d turned to check that Helen wasn’t listening. ‘Helen and I didn’t see that deer coming across the field because we were arguing.’

‘Oh?’ Nathan sensed a confession coming.

‘I…er…hadn’t reacted very well to the fact that…well…’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘Helen had had a miscarriage. Two weeks earlier. The hospital said they’d send you a letter… We hadn’t even known she was pregnant, but she had this bleed that wouldn’t stop, and we ended up at A&E one night, and they found out it was an incomplete miscarriage. She needed a D&C.’

Nathan felt a lurch in his stomach. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’

‘Yeah, well…apparently I wasn’t sorry enough. Helen got mad with me because I wasn’t upset about losing the baby. But neither of us had even known about the pregnancy! How could I get upset over a baby I didn’t know about?’ Paul let out a heavy breath. ‘She thought I didn’t care. We were arguing about that. Yelling…screaming at each other—so much so that Brandon started too. We didn’t notice the deer because I wasn’t paying attention.’ He sounded guilty. ‘And now, because I didn’t notice the deer running in front of us, and because I didn’t notice my wife was pregnant, I’m the bad guy who nearly got us all killed.’

How awful for them! To lose a baby like that and then to have a serious accident on top of it. They were both very lucky to have got out alive. Brandon, too. It could all have gone so terribly wrong.

‘Well, I can sort your stitches for you. And I’m not so sure I would want to stop Helen being mad. She’s had a terrible loss, Paul. You both have. And she needs to work through it.’

‘I know, but…’

‘There are support groups. Ones specifically for women who have suffered miscarriage. I can give you some information if you drop by the surgery. Or maybe I could ask Helen if she wants to come in and have a chat with me? You may not have known about the pregnancy, but she still lost a baby. A D&C can be a traumatic event in itself, when you think about what it is, and it can help some women to talk about things. She’s had a loss and she needs to work her way through it. And I’m sure, in time, so will you.’

Paul rubbed at his bristly jaw. ‘But even she didn’t know.’

‘It doesn’t matter. It was still a baby, Paul. Still a loss. A terrible one. And she knows now. She probably feels a lot of guilt, and the easiest person to take that out on is you.’

‘Does she think I’ve not been hurt too? To not even know she was pregnant and then to see her so scared when she wouldn’t stop bleeding? And then to learn the reason why?’ He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. ‘Why didn’t I know?’

‘You’re not to blame. It’s difficult in those early weeks.’

‘I keep thinking there must have something else I could have done for her. Something I could have said. To see that pain in her eyes… It broke my heart.’

Nathan laid a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

‘It has hurt me. I am upset. And I feel guilty at trying to make her get over something when she’s just not ready to. Guilty that I won’t get to hold that baby in my arms…’

‘Grief takes time to heal. For both of you.’

Paul glanced at his hands. ‘But she won’t talk to me. She doesn’t talk to me about any of the deep stuff because she thinks I don’t care. She never shares what she’s feeling. How are you supposed to be in a relationship with someone who won’t tell you what’s really going on?’

With great difficulty.

He looked at Paul. ‘You wait. Until she’s ready. And when she is…you listen.’

Nathan was so glad he’d never had to go through something like this with Gwyneth. They’d come close, when she’d thought there might still be time for an abortion, but the thought of losing his child…? It was too terrible even to think about.

Sydney would understand.

Just thinking about her now made him realise just how strong she was to have got through her daughter’s death. And on her own, too.

‘So I’ve just got to take her anger, then?’

‘Be there for her. Be ready to talk when she is. She’s grieving.’

Was Sydney still grieving? Was that why she wasn’t able to talk to him about what had happened? Should he even expect her to open up to him?

He opened his doctor’s bag and pulled out a small kit to remove Paul’s stitches. There were ten of them, and he used a stitch-cutter and tweezers to hold the knots each time he removed them. The wound had healed well, but Paul would be left with a significant scar for a while.

‘That’s you done.’

‘Thanks. So I’ve just got to wait it out, then?’

‘Or you could raise the subject if you feel the need. I can see that you’re upset at the loss, too. Let her know she can talk to you. That you’re ready to talk whenever she is.’

Paul nodded and touched the spot where his stitches had been. ‘Maybe I will. I know I’ve lost a baby, but I’m even more scared of losing my wife.’

Nathan just stared back at him.

Sydney felt odd. She had to call round to Nathan’s house in a minute, so she could take them to Wicklegate Farm and teach Anna how to ride the donkey. But for some reason she was standing in front of her wardrobe, wondering what to wear?

It shouldn’t matter!

Deliberately she grabbed at a pair of old jeans, an old rugby shirt that was slightly too big for her and thick woolly socks to wear inside her boots.

I have no reason to dress up for Dr Jones.

However, once dressed, she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror, messing with her hair. Up? Down?

She decided to leave her hair down and then added a touch of make-up. A bit of blush. Some mascara.

Her reflection stared back at her in question.

What are you doing?

Her mirror image gave no response. Obviously. But that still didn’t stop her waiting for one, hoping she would see something in the mirror that would tell her the right thing to do.

She even looked at Magic. ‘Am I being stupid about this?’

Magic blinked slowly at her.

She liked Nathan, and that was the problem. She liked it that he was comfortable to be with. She liked it that he was great to talk to. That he was very easy on the eye.

There was some small security in the fact that his little girl would be there, so it was hardly going to be a seduction, but… But a part of her—a small part, admittedly—wondered what it would be like if something were to happen with them spending time together. What, though? A kiss? On the cheek? The lips? That small part of her wanted to know what it would feel like to close her eyes and feel his lips press against hers. To inhale his scent, to feel his hands upon her. To sink into his strong caress.

Alastair, in those last few months, made me feel like I had the plague. That I was disgusting to him. It would be nice to know that a man could still find me desirable.

She missed that physical connection with someone. She missed having someone in her bed in the morning. Someone to read the papers with. To talk to over a meal. She missed the comfort of sitting in the same room as another person and not even having to talk. Of sharing a good book recommendation, of watching a movie together snuggled under an old quilt and feeding each other popcorn. Coming home and not finding the house empty.

But so what? Just because she missed it, it didn’t mean she had to make it happen. No matter how much she fantasised about it. Nathan was a man. And in her experience men let you down. Especially when you needed them the most. She’d already been rejected once, when she was at her lowest, and she didn’t want to go through that again.

It was too hard.

So no matter how nice Nathan was—no matter how attractive, no matter how much she missed being held—nothing was going to happen. Today was about Anna. About donkeys and learning how to ride.

She remembered teaching Olivia. It had taken her ages to get her balance, and she’d needed a few goes at it before she’d felt confident. She hadn’t liked pulling at the reins, had been worried in case it hurt the donkey.

Thinking about the past made her think of the present. Her ex-husband, Alastair, had moved on. He’d found someone new. Was making a new family. How had he moved on so quickly? It was almost insulting. Had she meant nothing to him? Had the family they’d had meant less to him than she’d realised? Perhaps that was why he’d walked away so easily?

Everyone in the village had been shocked. Everyone. Well, she’d make sure that everyone knew she wasn’t moving on. Keeping Nathan and Anna at arm’s length was the right thing to do, despite what she was feeling inside.

She considered cancelling. Calling him and apologising. Telling him that an emergency had cropped up. But then she’d realised that if she did she would still have to meet him again at some point. It was best to get it over and done with straight away. Less dilly-dallying. Besides, she didn’t want to let Anna down. She was a good kid.

She held her house keys in her hand for a moment longer, debating with her inner conscience, and her gaze naturally strayed to a photograph of Olivia. She was standing with her head back, looking up to the sun, her eyes closed, smiling at the feel of warmth on her face. It was one of Sydney’s favourite pictures: Olivia embracing the warmth of the sun.

She always enjoyed life. Even the small things.

Sydney stepped outside and locked up the cottage. She needed to drive to Nathan’s house. The new estate and the road he lived on was about two miles away.

It was interesting to drive through the new builds. The houses were very modern, in bright brick, with cool grey slate tiles on their roofs and shiny white UPVC windows. They were uniformly identical, but she could see Nathan’s muddy jalopy parked on his driveway and she pulled in behind it, letting out a breath. Releasing her nerves.

I can do this!

She strode up to the front door, trying to look businesslike, hoping that no one could see how nervous she suddenly felt inside. She rang the bell and let out a huge breath, trying to calm her scattered nerves.

The door opened and Nathan stood there. Smiling. ‘Sydney—hi. Come on in.’ he stepped back.

Reluctant to enter his home, and therefore create feelings of intimacy, she stepped back. ‘Erm…shouldn’t we just be off? I told the owners we’d be there in about ten minutes.’

‘I’m just waiting for Anna to finish getting ready. You know what young girls are like.’

She watched his cheeks colour as he realised what he’d said, and to let him off the hook decided to step in, but keeping herself as far away from him physically as she could.

‘I do…yes. Anna?’ she called up the stairs.

Sydney heard some thumps and bumps and then Anna was at the top of the stairs. ‘Hi, Sydney! I can’t decide what to wear. Could you help me? Please?’

Anna wheedled out the last word, giving the cutest face that she could.

The look was so reminiscent of Olivia that Sydney had to catch her breath.

‘Erm…’ she glanced at Nathan, who shrugged.

‘By all means…’

‘Right.’

Sydney ascended the stairs, feeling sweat break out down her spine. She turned at the top and went into Anna’s room. Her breath was taken away by how girly it was. A palace of pink. A pink feather boa hung over the mirror on a dresser, there were fairy lights around the headboard, bubblegum-coloured beanbags, a blush-pink carpet and curtains, a hammock in the corner filled with all manner of soft, cuddly toys and a patchwork quilt upon the bed.

And in front of a large pink wardrobe that had a crenelated top, like a castle, Anna stood, one hand on one hip, the other tapping her finger against her lips.

‘I’ve never ridden a donkey. Or a horse! I don’t know what would be best.’

Sydney swallowed hard as she eyed the plethora of clothes in every colour under the sun. ‘Erm…something you don’t mind getting dirty. Trousers or jeans. And a tee shirt? Maybe a jumper?’

Anna pulled out a mulberry-coloured jumper that was quite a thick knit, with cabling down the front. ‘Like this?’

Syd nodded. ‘Perfect. Trousers?’

‘I have these.’ Anna pulled a pair of jeans from a pile. They had some diamanté sequins sewn around the pockets. ‘And this?’ She pointed at the tee shirt she was already wearing.

‘Those will be great. I’ll go downstairs whilst you’re getting dressed.’

‘Could you help me, Sydney? I can never do the buttons.’

Sydney stood awkwardly whilst Anna changed her clothes, and then knelt in front of the little girl to help her do up her clothes. It had been ages since she’d had to do this. Olivia had always struggled with buttons. These two girls might almost have been made out of the same mould. Of course there were so differences between the girls, but sometimes the similarities were disturbing. Painful.

She stood up again. ‘Ready?’

Anna nodded and dashed by her to run downstairs. ‘I’ll get my boots on!’

She sat at the bottom of the stairs and pulled on bright green wellington boots that had comical frog eyes poking out over the toes.

Sydney stood behind her, looking awkwardly at Nathan.

‘Will I need boots, too?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘It’s a working farm…so, yes.’

She watched as they both got ready, and it was so reminiscent of standing waiting for Olivia and Alastair to get ready so they could go out that she physically felt an ache in her chest.

They had been good together. Once. When she and Alastair had married she’d truly believed they would be in each other’s arms until their last days. Shuffling along together. One of those old couples you could see in parks, still holding hands.

But then it had all gone wrong.

Alastair hadn’t been able to cope with losing his little girl and he’d blamed her. For not noticing that Olivia was truly ill. For not acting sooner. The way he’d blanked her, directed his anger towards her, had hurt incredibly. The one time she’d needed her husband the most had been the one time he’d failed her completely.

When Nathan and Anna were both ready she hurried them out of the door and got them into her car.

‘Can you do your seatbelt, Anna?’

‘Yes!’ the little girl answered, beaming. ‘I can’t wait to ride the donkey! Did Daddy tell you I’m going to be Mary? That’s the most important part in the play. Well…except for baby Jesus…but that’s just going to be a doll, so…’ She trailed off.

Sydney smiled into the rearview mirror. How many times had she driven her car with Olivia babbling away in the back seat? Too many times. So often, in fact, that she would usually be thinking about all the things she had to do, tuning her daughter out, saying hmm…or right…in all the right places, whenever her daughter paused for breath.

And now…? With Anna chatting away…? She wanted to listen. Wanted to show Nathan’s little girl that she heard her.

I can’t believe I ignored my daughter! Even for a second!

How many times had she not truly listened? How many times had she not paid attention? Thinking that she had all the time in the world to talk to her whenever she wanted? To chat about things that hadn’t meant much to her but had meant the world to her daughter?

‘All eyes will be on you, Anna. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.’

Nathan glanced over at her. ‘I appreciate you arranging this. I don’t suppose you’re a dab hand with a sewing machine, are you?’

She was, actually. ‘Why?’

‘The costume for Mary is looking a bit old. The last incumbent seems to have dragged it through a dump before storing it away and now it looks awful. Miriam has suggested that I make another one.’

She glanced over at him. ‘And you said…?’

‘I said yes! But that was when I thought a bedsheet and a blue teacloth over the head was all that was needed.’

‘You know… I might still have Olivia’s old outfit. She played Mary one year.’

‘She did?’ Nathan was looking at her closely.

‘I still have some of her stuff in boxes in the attic. Couldn’t bear to part with it. Give me a day or two and I’ll check.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’

She kept her eyes on the road, trying not to think too hard about going up into the attic to open those boxes. Would the clothes still have Olivia’s scent? Would seeing them, touching them, be too painful? There was a reason they were still in the attic. Unsorted.

She’d boxed everything up one day, after a therapist at one of her grief counselling sessions had told her it might be a good thing to do. That it might be cathartic, or something.

It hadn’t been.

She’d felt that in boxing up her daughter’s clothes and putting them somewhere they couldn’t be seen she was also been getting rid of all traces of her daughter. That she was hiding Olivia’s memory away. And she’d not been ready. She’d drunk an awful lot of wine that night, and had staggered up into the attic to drag all the boxes back downstairs, but Alastair had stopped her. Yelled at her that it was a good thing, and that if she touched those boxes one more time then he would walk out the door.

She’d sobered up and the next morning had left the boxes up there—even though she’d felt bereft and distraught. And dreadfully hungover.

Alastair had left eventually, of course. Just not then. It had taken a few more weeks. By then it had been too late to drag the boxes back down. Too scary.

‘What was she like?’

‘Hmm?’ She was pulled back to the present by his question. ‘What?’

‘What was Olivia like?’ he asked again.

She glanced over at him quickly. He sounded as if he really wanted to know, and no one had asked her that question for years. All this time she’d stayed away from people, not making connections or getting close because she hadn’t wanted to talk about Olivia. It had been too painful. But now she wanted to talk about her. Was thrilled that he’d asked, because she was ready to talk about her. He’d made it easy to do so.

‘She was…amazing.’

‘Who’s Olivia?’ asked Anna from the back seat.

Sydney glanced in the rearview mirror once again and smiled.

The donkey was called Bert and he had a beautiful dark brown coat. The farmer had already got him saddled before their arrival and he stood waiting patiently, nibbling at some hay, as Sydney gave Anna instructions.

‘Okay, it’s quite simple, Anna. You don’t need Bert to go fast, so you don’t need to nudge him with your feet or kick at his sides. A slow plod is what we want, and Bert here is an expert at the slow plod and the Christmas nativity.’

‘Will he bite me?’

She shook her head. ‘No. He’s very gentle and he is used to children riding him. Shall I lift you into the saddle?’

Anna nodded.

Sydney hefted Anna up. ‘Put your hands here, on the pommel. I’ll lead him with the reins—the way we’ll get the boy playing Joseph to do it.’

‘Okay.’

‘Verbal commands work best, and Bert responds to Go on when you want him to start walking and Stop when you want him to stand still. Got that?’

Anna nodded again.

‘Why don’t you give that a try?’

Anna smiled. ‘Go on, Bert!’

Bert started moving.

‘He’s doing it, Sydney! He’s doing it! Look, Daddy—I’m riding!’

‘That’s brilliant, sweetheart.’

Sydney led Bert down the short side of the field. She turned to check on Anna. ‘That’s it. Keep your back straight…don’t slouch.’

They walked up and down. Up and down. Until Sydney thought Anna was ready to try and do it on her own. She’d certainly picked it up a lot more quickly than Olivia had!

‘Okay, Anna. Try it on your own. Head to the end of the field and use the reins to turn him and make him come back. Talk to him. Encourage him. Okay?’

She knew Anna could do it. The little girl had connected with the donkey in a way no other had, and the animal responded brilliantly to her. Sydney really didn’t think Anna would have a problem on the night of the nativity. Bert was putty in her hands.

They both stood and watched as Anna led Bert confidently away from them and down the field. Sydney almost felt proud. In fact, she was proud.

She became aware that Nathan was staring at her, and then suddenly, almost in a blink, she felt his fingers sliding around hers.

‘Thank you, Sydney.’

She turned to him and looked into his eyes. The intensity of the moment grew. It felt as if her heart had sped up but her breathing had got really slow. Her fingers in his felt protected and safe, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb in slow, sweeping strokes that were doing strange, chaotic things to her insides, turning her legs to jelly.

‘What for?’ she managed to say.

‘For helping me when it’s difficult for you. I appreciate the time you’re giving me and my daughter. I…’

He stopped talking as he took a step closer to her, and as he drew near her breathing stopped completely and she looked up into his handsome blue eyes.

He’s going to kiss me!

Hadn’t she thought about this? Hadn’t she wondered what it might be like? Hadn’t she missed the physical contact that came with being in a relationship? And now here was this man—this incredibly attractive man—holding her hand and making her stomach do twirls and swirls as his lips neared hers, as he leaned in for a kiss…

Sydney closed her eyes, awaiting the press of his lips against hers.

Only there was no kiss.

She felt him pull his hand free from hers and heard him clearing his throat and apologising before he called out, ‘You’re doing brilliantly, Anna! Turn him round now—come on. We need to go home.’

Sydney blinked. What had happened? He’d been about to kiss her, hadn’t he? And she’d stood there, like an idiot, waiting for him to do it.

How embarrassing!

Anna brought Bert to a halt beside them, beaming widely.

‘I think that’s enough for today. You’ve done really well, Anna.’

Anna beamed as her father helped her off the donkey, and then she ran straight to Sydney and wrapped her arms around her. ‘Thanks, Sydney! You’re the best!’

Sydney froze at the unexpected hug, but then she relaxed and hugged the little girl back, swallowing back her surprise and…for some reason…her tears. ‘So are you.’

The farmer took Bert back to his field with the other donkeys, once he’d removed the saddle and tack, and Sydney and Anna said goodbye. Then they all got back into Sydney’s car and she started to drive them home.

‘Thank you for…er…what you’ve done for Anna today,’ said Nathan.

She took a breath and bit back the retort she wanted to give. ‘No problem.’

‘You know…taking time out of your weekend…’

‘Sydney could stay for dinner, couldn’t she Daddy? We’re having fajitas!’ Anna invited from the back.

She would have loved nothing more than to stay. Her time spent with Anna had been wonderful, and the times when she’d looked across at Nathan and caught him looking at her had been weirdly wonderful and exciting too.

But after what had just happened—the almost-kiss… He’d been going to do it. She knew it! But something had stopped him. Had got in the way.

Was it because he’d suddenly remembered Anna was there? Had he not wanted to risk his daughter seeing them kissing? Or was it something else?

She was afraid of getting carried away and reading too much into this situation. She’d helped out. That was all. She’d felt a connection that Nathan hadn’t. Getting too involved with this single dad was perhaps a step too far. Where would it end? If she spent too much time with them, where would she be?

She shivered, even though the car heater was pumping out plenty of hot air. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a…a thing later.’

‘Maybe another time?’ Nathan suggested, looking embarrassed.

As well you might!

‘Sure.’

There can’t ever be another time, no.

She watched them clamber from her car when she dropped them off. Nathan lingered at the open window of the car, as if he had something else to say, but then he looked away and simply said goodbye, before following his daughter up the path.

Sydney drove off before he could turn around and say anything else.

I really like them. Both of them.

But was it what they represented that she liked? This dad. This little girl. They were a ready-made family. Being with them might give her back some of what she’d lost. They offered a chance of starting again. So was it the situation that she liked? Or them as individuals?

Nathan was great. Gorgeous, charming, someone she enjoyed being around. And Anna was cute as a button, with her sing-song voice and happy-go-lucky personality.

Was it wrong to envy them? To envy them because they still had each other?

Was it wrong to have wanted—to have craved—Nathan’s kiss?

Feeling guilty, she drove home, and she was just about to park up when she got a text. A cat was having difficulties giving birth and she needed to get to the surgery immediately to prep for a Caesarean section.

Suddenly all business—which was easy because she knew what she was doing—she turned the car around and drove to the surgery.

Nathan sent Anna upstairs to get changed into some clean clothes that didn’t smell of donkey and farm. Then he headed into the kitchen, switching on the kettle and sinking into a chair as he waited for it to boil.

What the hell had he done?

Something crazy—something not him—had somehow slipped through his defences and he’d found himself taking hold of Sydney’s hand, staring into her sad grey eyes. And he had been about to kiss her!

Okay, so he’d been fighting that urge for a while, and it was hardly a strange impulse, but he had thought that he’d got those impulses under control.

Standing there, looking down into her face, at her smooth skin, her slightly rosy cheeks, those soft, inviting lips, he’d wanted to so badly! And she’d wanted him to do it. He’d wanted to, but…

But Anna hadn’t been far away, and he’d suddenly heard that horrid voice in his head that still sounded remarkably like Gwyneth, telling him that no one, and especially not Sydney, would want him. Not with his faulty, failing body. Not with his bad genes. Not with a child who wasn’t hers…

How could he ask her to take on that burden—especially with the threat of his MS always present? He knew the chances of the MS killing him were practically zero. Okay, there would be difficulties, and there would be complications—there might even be comorbidities such as thyroid disease, autoimmune conditions or a meningioma. But the MS on its own…? It was unlikely.

But it had been enough to make him hesitate. To think twice. And once he’d paused too long he’d known it was too late to kiss her so he’d stepped away. Had called out to Anna…said they needed to go.

Sydney deserved a strong man. A man who would look out for her and care for her and protect her. What if he couldn’t do that?

Fear. That was what it had been. Fear of putting himself out there. Of getting involved. Of exposing himself to the hurt and pain that Gwyneth had caused once. How could he go through again? How could he expose Anna to that now that she was older? She would be aware now if she grew to love someone and then that someone decided it was all too much and wanted out.

Anna being a baby had protected her from the pain of losing her mother. And today he had saved himself from finding out if he could be enough for someone like Sydney. Gwyneth had made him doubt what he had to offer. She had probably been right in what she’d said. He didn’t know what his future would be like. He couldn’t be certain, despite trying his best to remain positive. But it was hard sometimes. Dealing with a chronic illness…sometimes it could get to you.

The kettle boiled and he slowly made himself a cup of tea. He heard Anna come trotting back down the stairs and she came into the kitchen.

‘Can I have a biscuit, Daddy?’

‘Just one.’

She reached into the biscuit barrel and took out a plain biscuit. ‘I loved riding Bert. He was so cute! I love donkeys. Do you love donkeys, Daddy?’

He thought for a moment. ‘I do. Especially Bert.’

She smiled at him, crumbs dropping onto the floor. ‘And do you love Sydney?’

His gaze swung straight round to his daughter’s face. ‘What?’

‘I think you like her.’

‘What makes you say that?’ he asked in a strangled voice.

‘Your eyes go all funny.’ She giggled. ‘Joshua in my class—he looks at Gemma like that and he loves her. They’re boyfriend and girlfriend.’

Nathan cleared his throat. ‘Aren’t they a little young to be boyfriend and girlfriend?’

Anna shrugged, and then skipped off into the other room. He heard the television go on.

She noticed quite a lot, did Anna.

Curious, he followed her through to the lounge and stood and watched her for a moment as she chose a channel to watch.

‘Anna?’

‘Yes?’

‘If I did like Sydney…how would you feel about that?’

Anna tilted her head to one side and smiled, before turning back to the television. ‘Fine. Then you wouldn’t be all alone.’

Nathan stared at his daughter. And smiled.