Page 119 of A Country Practice Christmas
Crystal pursed her lips and gave a side-eyed glance. ‘I might have.’ She held up her hands in adon’t shootgesture. ‘I mean, all I did was put the idea out there and you ran with it. Sometimes the universe guides us in mysterious ways and we just have to see where it leads.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I certainly do.’ Crystal lifted a bejewelled hand to her mouth and wrinkled her nose. ‘And I had a vibe about you and Cole Harrison the moment I saw you two together.’
There was no way Hannah was admitting she’d had a similar feeling herself, but Crystal’s ‘vibe’ was certainly interesting. ‘Time will tell.’
‘You could do alotworse.’
‘I’m sure I could. Thank you again for the books.’ They shared a conspiratorial smile. Had they just bonded over an imaginary romance? Hannah checked her watch and pointed towards her office door. ‘I have a Zoom consult, so I’d best get going.’
Without even a glimmer of contrition, Crystal pulled out her chair and turned on the computer, fire-engine red nails covered in tiny Santa hats tapping away at the keys. ‘And I’d best get on with the accounts.’
Door firmly closed, Hannah sank into the plush comfort of her leather desk chair. There were so many advantages to living in a small community—less noise, more fresh air, not having to fight for a parking space—but when it came to privacy and anonymity, country-town living scored a big fat zero. Crystal had seen her with Cole at the tree-lighting (not that she had beenwithhim, merely standing beside him) which meant a whole lot of other people would have too. The grapevine would most certainly be ablaze. The alarm chimed on her phone. Time to log on. For now she needed to focus on Eileen Jackson’s ongoing anxiety and put all thoughts of a certain farrier out of her mind. She settled her face into an expression of compassionate affability and turned on her computer.
Quieting her mind was one thing. If only she could douse the chemical reaction going on in her body after the conversation with Crystal. And it wasn’t the book talk that had ignited it, just like it wasn’t a generic hero she pictured when she read the raunchy sex scenes in the novels that had been keeping her awake into the early hours the past couple of weeks.
‘Hello, can you hear me?’ Eileen’s quivering voice echoed down the line. ‘Dr Rasmussen?’
Technically she wasn’t a doctor but no matter how many times she reminded some clients of this, they didn’t seem to grasp the concept.
Flicking the video on and unmuting the microphone, she pasted on a smile and blocked every thought of a certain person from her mind.
‘Hello, Eileen.’
Dinner at the hotel had been Nancy and Lenore’s idea—possibly part of their contention that she should ‘get out more’. And as much as she would usually rather have poked her eye out with a knitting needle, it hadn’t turned out too badly.
Restaurants were her preferred dining venues but the vibe at the Yarrabee Hotel was suitably merry. A ham raffle had attracted more punters than would probably be here on a weeknight, and the menu was surprisingly gourmet for a backwater bistro. Not even the ludicrous snow-covered tree in the corner or the cheesy seasonal playlist filtering through the speakers spoiled the mood. Hannah was here with her close friends—family, really—having a lovely meal and life was relatively good. If there was any gossip circulating about her, it didn’t seem to be happening here. At home, presents sat like secret treasure, sparkling in silver foil under the tree, and Nancy’s pudding hung in the pantry in all its calico glory to dry out. So far, the lead-up to the big day hadn’t been too bad; had, in fact been kind of nice. In next to no time, the true celebration would begin and her mettle would be well and truly tested.
‘That’s the last time I’m going to tell you,’ a stern voice shouted in the front bar. ‘If I see you lot in here again, I’ll be calling the cops.’
Lenore widened her eyes in mock exaggeration. ‘Someone’s not happy.’
Every head in the bistro turned towards the argument. A few muffled shouts sounded from out on the street—probably whoever had been sent on their way.
An alarm chirruped on Nancy’s watch, as it did every evening at nine. Whether the early-to-bed reminder was for her or Lenore wasn’t really clear, but the pair certainly had a well-honed routine. ‘Shall we call it a night?’
‘We shall.’ The two women stood, Lenore holding the table for balance, her flowing kaftan hanging on her thin frame like an oversized coat on a wire hanger.
Hannah followed them out the door into a perfect summer’s night, warm air brushing against her skin, a bright full moon illuminating the streetscape. ‘I think I’ll walk. Meet you at home.’
‘Righto, see you at home.’
The heady scent of jasmine filled the air, a spill of white and pink blooms framing an arbour that marked the entrance to the Village Green at the back of the shops. It was too lovely a night to head straight home, so she took the turn and emerged into a garden filled with lavender, iceberg roses and a border of waist-high butterfly bush swaying softly in the breeze. Magical. Like an enchanted secret garden. Too beautiful to leave.
She took a seat and looked up at the stars. So many of them, sprinkled across the night sky like fairy dust. Was he up there? Watching over her? Despite the almost certain knowledge that he wasn’t, a tiny shard of her heart desperately wanted it to be true.
Even after all these years, she’d give anything to be able to see him again. To hear his voice. Feel his arms around her, keeping her safe. Tipping her head back against the post behind her, she closed her eyes and willed him to appear. But the vision she saw was not the one she’d conjured.
Teeth chattering, she stood on the kerb, arms crossed against her bare midriff as rain splattered into the gutter.
Fellow revellers spilling onto the nature strip like fish from an overturned bucket when Annemarie’s parents declared the party over. Sophia long gone after too much cask wine too fast.
A delirium of Christmas lights blinking manically from every house on the street while her teenage self waited in the quiet darkness.
But he never came.
She waited and waited and waited. But he never came.
