Page 33 of A Festive Surprise

Ice spread through Holly’s veins. Her heart hammered and she forced herself to speak. ‘Hi, Ma.’

Farid shuffled in the seat behind her and curled his arm around her trembling shoulder. The affectionate nature of his concern struck low in her tummy, radiating outwards and filling her with solace.

‘Dad’s fine.’ Her mother’s tone was clipped.

‘He is?’ Just like that? Farid increased the pressure on her shoulder.

‘Yes. It was a false alarm.’

‘But… How? I thought he had a heart attack?’

‘Turns out it wasn’t a heart attack.’ Her mother’s voice lowered with every word. ‘Just severe indigestion.’

‘What?’

‘Now he’s had the medication, the situation has… eased. We’re taking him home.’

Holly let out a slow whistle. ‘Ok. Thank goodness.’

‘Yes. It’s a relief.’

‘Well, you take care, Ma. And get some sleep.’

‘Hmpf,’ she snorted. ‘Like I’ll be able to sleep a wink with your father in this state. I’ll have to go into the spare room to avoid the… Well, you know.’

Holly pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile. ‘Yeah. Well, take care. Night, Ma.’

‘All ok?’ Farid said as Holly ended the call.

‘Yes. Apparently, it was indigestion.’

‘Oh… Like you mean, bad gas.’

‘Exactly.’ Holly let out a laugh. The weight fell from her shoulders; she screwed up her face. ‘Gross.’ She imagined her mother and aunt in the car with the windows open, holding their noses all the way home. Groaning, she ran her fingers through her hair. ‘I’m sorry, what a waste of a night.’

‘Not at all.’ Farid stroked his fingers down her arm. ‘Spending time with you will never be a waste.’

‘You say the sweetest things.’

‘I mean it.’

Holly turned to him. Vaguely, she could make him out in the darkness. The chilled air nipped her skin. Hadn’t the heating kicked in yet? She rubbed her arms. ‘Is there any point trying to get back to sleep now?’ If she could return to her dream, she would. Or better, make it real.

‘No, I don’t think so. You know what we could do?’

‘I have one or two ideas.’

‘We could make a cake.’

She lolled into him with a half-laugh. ‘You’re mad. What kind of cake do you plan to make at four in the morning?’

‘A Christmas cake, of course.’

She buried her head in her hands. ‘Oh, Farid. You have no idea the fear that puts in me.’ How could she ever look at a Christmas cake again? After that day? The day Gavin had taken her world and shaken it upside down, knocking her onto a dark path where she didn’t know who she was or what to do.

‘Come on. Let’s do it. I have ingredients next door. I wash, then I come back and we make the cake. After that, I make you a Syrian breakfast. You will love it, jamilati.’

After he’d gone, Holly stayed on the sofa, rubbing her palms down her legs. What a night. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she yawned, then slowly got up and padded across the soft carpet to the bathroom.

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