Page 49 of All We Want for Christmas
He was alone again, and his first thought was that he had woken from a very vivid dream. It wasn’t a nightmare, and it wasn’t a joyful dream that he wanted to step back into. It was a strange out-of-body experience. Had he been hallucinating? Was he drunk? Was there another layer of consciousness that he needed to pierce through?
He looked up at the spiky branches, sparkling with a myriad of lights. He could hear shouts and laughter again, and a child screaming ‘I want to see Santa!’, and the cannon boom of Tchaikovsky’s1812 Overturefrom the fountains.
He was definitely fully awake. Molly and Esme really had been there. And what she’d said had to be true. She knew so much – the details. The lake, the dates, the cider …
Why would she make it up? And when he’d looked, really looked at Molly, he could surely see himself in her. Take away the red streaks in her hair and that was his own thick, almost black hair. And her eyes – a deep brown flecked with amber. Then there was her height, the confidence, the challenging gaze, and the direct manner … she had to be his daughter.
His daughter.
A rush of emotion surged through him: fear and shock, and joy that brought tears to his eyes. He hadn’t cried for a decade or more and yet here he was, in the middle of a working day, tears on his face.
‘Flynn! There you are. I need you.’
It was Lara’s voice behind him, yet he dared not turn round, so he pulled a tissue from his pocket and covered his face, blowing his nose noisily.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, blinking and wrinkling his nose in an almost comic way. ‘The cold got to me. Hope it’s not flu. I can’t afford the time off.’
‘Me neither,’ she replied. ‘Seriously, I hope it isn’t flu. Not at this particular moment especially. Everyone’s looking for you. The lights have gone out in the Ice House – sorry,grotto, and we have a queue of kids and parents. Santa’s resorted to his phone torch but we can’t allow anyone else in because of health and safety.’
Flynn cursed softly, sighed, then heard his voice speaking calmly, as if disassociated from his body. ‘OK. On my way. I’ll soon have everything sorted, don’t worry.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lara plumped the sofa cushions again and checked she had enough good coffee – not that Flynn would notice a cushion if it fell on his head or care about coffee. She was annoyed with herself for even touching a cushion; it was a signal that she was starting to be too excited.
Yet she knew better than most that once you’d started to fall for someone, it was almost impossible to avoid that rollercoaster.
So, she decided to be kind to herself and accept the fact that she’d been on a high ever since she’d fallen into Flynn’s arms and into his bed the evening before.
Not even the day’s small trials could dampen her spirits: a Portaloo issue or the cancellation of a corporate Christmas event. On the upside, Tessa had kindly agreed to make her costume for the ball and to alter Flynn’s highwayman outfit to fit his physique.
Flynn was on duty that evening and they’d arranged to meet up after the Spectacular had ended and he’d finished closing everything down. She hoped he wasn’t too knackered after sorting out the grotto problem. He’d need his energy … a thought that made her want to laugh. At this rate, they’d both give thegame away by looking permanently knackered at work. She’d already had to stifle a yawn during a health and safety meeting.
She checked her phone. The site closed at nine officially, but Flynn might be up to an hour after that. It was only eight-thirty, so she had a while to wait. She might as well relax and watch some TV or read a book, not that she could concentrate on either.
She’d restarted a historical documentary three times when Flynn messaged:
Grotto issue still not totally sorted. Probably damp :( Don’t worry but it might be a late one. Don’t wait up. F x
And that was it. Lara felt as if she’d been dunked into an icy lake. How disappointing. Poor Flynn. He must really be up against it to bail out. Still, it couldn’t be helped. She might as well get an early night and catch up on her lost sleep even if he couldn’t. There was always tomorrow evening when they were both off-duty.
She suggested he come over after her Zumba class and, with that pleasant thought to console herself, she settled down to watch TV with a hot chocolate and tried not to dwell too much on what she was missing out on.
‘You’re looking well, Lara,’ Henry whispered at the end of the Christmas tour the following afternoon. One of the guides felt unwell and had to leave at the last minute, so Lara had stepped in.
‘Thanks. You’re looking better yourself, if you don’t mind me saying.’
Henry beamed. His cheeks were ruddier again and he was more relaxed. ‘Mustn’t grumble. This diet is a nuisance, though I do feel like I have more energy and it’s better than being carted off to hospital. I wonder if I dare have a mince pie. No, perhaps not. Fiona might catch me.’
Lara was not up for such self-denial. While the tour group admired the trees and decorations, she tucked into the mince pies that Jazz’s team had served in the banqueting hall. With just over two weeks to Christmas, there was an air of excitement and anticipation that was infectious.
Her mood was also helped by a serious dose of anticipation and excitement that had nothing to do with presents or Santa coming down the chimney.
She didn’t even have to wait until dinnertime, because she bumped into Flynn on her way out of the castle.
‘Flynn. Hi.’
His mouth opened in surprise, as if he’d been startled by her. He looked very harassed.
