Page 24 of Could It Be Magic?
‘Nice job, Santa,’ Thea murmured as she approached. ‘I thought you’d sworn off that kind of get-up?’
‘Not exactly my first choice,’ Nick muttered back, ‘but I had to step in for Dad, again.’
‘Very noble of you,’ Thea replied. Her tone was dry, but Nick chanced a direct glance at her and saw her eyes were smiling. ‘I didn’t realise this was part of your festive rounds today.’
‘It’s a Saints’ Farm regular date in the calendar,’ Nick replied. ‘Seemed a shame to duck out just because Dad’s not up to it this year.’
‘Well, the mince pies are going down as well as the carol singing did,’ Thea said. ‘I think it’s a job well done.’
There was a slight pause between them, before Thea added, ‘It suits you, though. You always look your best in strong colours.’
Nick felt a flush of pleasure at the unexpected compliment. ‘Thank you. If I’d known you thought that, I’d definitely have put the suit on for the TV cameras!’
‘Hi Nick!’ Cora’s cheerful voice cut into their conversation. ‘You look as though you’re about to pass out from the heat in that costume.’ She grinned at him. ‘And apart from one or two of the younger Brownies, I think we’re all over the existence of Santa Claus.’ She glanced around the room, where, even accounting for the young age of some of the visitors, belief in Saint Nicholas was not going to feature high among this group’s list of priorities.
‘Ssh!’ Thea said playfully. ‘As far as you’re concerned, you’d better start believing in Santa Claus if you want any presents this year.’
‘Yeah, right, Mum.’ Cora rolled her eyes. ‘I think even Dylan has worked out where the presents come from by now.’ She turned back to Nick. ‘Nice effort though. And thanks for the mince pies.’
‘Any time.’ Nick smiled down at her.
‘I don’t suppose you could magic us up a Christmas tree as well, could you?’ Cora asked cheekily. ‘Ours is so old now, the branches won’t stay on it!’
‘What? You’ve got a fake tree?’
‘Yup’ – Cora’s eyes glinted mischievously – ‘and it’s not even a good one. It’s older than I am and so crap that the lights it came with don’t even work any more.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. Your mum’s great with stuff like that.’
‘I don’t think even Mum can fix it this time,’ Cora said, glancing at Thea. ‘But she’s too tight to buy us a new one.’
‘Cora!’ Thea’s face registered irritation and then worry before she forced a smile in her daughter’s direction. ‘You’re exaggerating, as usual.’
‘Whatever, Mum,’ Cora replied. She’d ambled off again before either Thea or Nick could reply.
‘Ignore her,’ Thea said, and Nick knew she didn’t want to talk about the tree. ‘She does tend to over-dramatise.’
‘She’s such a great kid, though,’ Nick said. ‘It doesn’t seem a minute since she was born. I remember when you and Ed came to stay with Lorelai, that first Christmas. She must only have been a couple of weeks old.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know how you did it. And then Dylan came along too.’
Thea smiled. ‘You just kind of do, at the time. And I was so pleased to be spending some time with Gran that Christmas. It was the first time we’d been back to visit in ages, and I really needed to be close to family.’ She paused, before adding, ‘I never should have let Ed talk me into moving away from the village. It’s where we all belong, and I’m so glad to be back now.’
‘I’m glad you’re back, too.’ Nick looked into Thea’s eyes and he wished that, instead of being in a day room full of pensioners, Guides and Brownies, they were back where they’d been when they’d shared that delicious hug. ‘I missed you.’
‘I missed you, too,’ Thea replied. Her eyes widened a little as she held his gaze, and something electric seemed to pass between them, a natural progression from their closeness the previous night.
Nick opened his mouth to respond, but as he did Cora arrived by Thea’s side again and the moment was lost. As they both continued to rib him about his terrible costume, he wondered if there was ever going to be a right time to explore what seemed to keep happening between them.
22
On Sunday morning, Thea still hadn’t got around to working out what she was going to do about the knackered fake Christmas tree. The poor thing was leaning like a drunkard up against the wall of the living room, looking sadder and more rubbish than ever. The price label on the box was a reminder of just how old the thing was, and she knew that, even a modest replacement would set her back more money that she didn’t have. Perhaps, with the judicious application of some duct tape and a bit of creative positioning of the better branches to cover the more ragged ones, the tree could survive another year.
All the same, the box of tree ornaments that stood in a state of melancholy beside the tree, just waiting to be positioned and argued over by Cora and Dylan, also stared at her in quiet reproach. For a split second she entertained the notion of just nipping into the woodland behind the house and hacking down a dwarf pine from an unseen corner, but she didn’t own a saw, and she couldn’t, in all conscience, ruin a tree just for the sake of a couple of weeks in her house.
Glumly, she looked at a replacement tree on Amazon, but, since it was so close to Christmas, any options that would arrive before the big day were wildly expensive and any within her meagre budget wouldn’t arrive until January. What could she do?
The cheery ring of her doorbell made her jump, but at least it stalled the avalanche of self-pity that threatened to break over her head. The tree would have to wait. She hadn’t planned to see anyone today: Tristan wasn’t a dropper-in, and Lorelai hadn’t mentioned that she was going to come over, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t, if she’d fancied the short walk between her place and Thea’s.
She didn’t bother to check the Ring doorbell camera before reaching for the latch on the door. The cul-de-sac was quiet at the best of times, and on a Sunday morning there seemed little chance it would be an unwelcome visitor. However, when she pulled open the door, all she could see was the somewhat innocuous sight of a Norwegian spruce tree, propped up against the side of the bay window.
