Page 32 of A Festive Surprise

Chapter Ten

Holly

Holly hadn’t seen her father for six months. Visits were scant. Rarely pleasant. Often tense. A chill crept up her spine, filtered into her veins and seeped into her chest. Why didn’t I visit more? What if this was the end? Sharp-toothed thoughts nibbled the raw edges of her heart. Her father was in the Borders General Hospital waiting for scans. If he died now, she wouldn’t have a chance to say goodbye. Her mother was with him and her aunt, his sister, had driven miles to sit with her. Alice couldn’t get there from Wolverhampton and Holly was as useful as a Christmas tree without branches.

She hugged her knees, resting her head on the back of the sofa. Her mother’s panicked voice nipped on the end of the phone.

‘Have you any idea how difficult it is for me to talk on this silly messenger thing? Just as well Aunt Elizabeth has the daft thing installed. It’s something I could do without right now.’

Holly held the phone level with her chin and sighed.

‘How can you conduct business in a place with no mobile reception? Are you sure you aren’t inventing complications?’

In the kitchen area, cupboards bumped open and shut. Holly craned her neck. What was Farid doing?

‘Listen, Ma, you have to wait until the scans come in.’

‘What do you think I’m doing? But it’s awful, sitting here, not knowing.’

‘I get that.’

‘Easy to shut off when you’re far away.’ Her voice was muffled.

Holly clenched her jaw. Not the right time to pick a fight.

Farid strolled over with two mugs and set them on top of tartan coasters on the oak table. He tugged the table closer to the sofa and flopped onto the cushion beside Holly. She leaned sideways, resting her head on him. His arm slipped around her and some of the tension ebbed with the warm touch. Leaning forward, he lifted a mug and passed it to her. She sipped the milky tea, still listening to her mother. What else could she do? Nothing. As her mother kept pointing out.

When she ended the call, she smacked both the mug and her phone on the table. ‘I know I’m useless but what the hell does she want me to do about it?’

‘Hey.’ Farid hoisted his legs onto the sofa and wrapped Holly in a tight hug. She closed her eyes and let his warmth soothe her like a balm. ‘You’re not useless.’ His words fell softly into her hair and she yielded further into his chest. ‘Distance is a cruel thing. No one can be everywhere. One day, you may face trials and no one will be with you. Today, your mother must face this without you. It hurts her, so she hurts you with words in return. But remember, it’s not a competition. You don’t be guilty for how you feel. You cannot change her. Allow yourself to feel as you need.’

Holly didn’t open her eyes. His words were soft, almost like a song. ‘Your English is so good. I don’t know many British men who could say such beautiful words.’ He smoothed his hands over her hair, turning her into warm jelly.

‘I make more tea if you want it. You Brits love your tea, huh?’

‘Right now, I love your hugs more.’ Where was this gush coming from? He’d melted her insides. Danger lurked too. If he let go, she’d have to face grim reality.

‘Then that’s what you’ll get, jamilati.’ He increased his grip, drawing her closer so she was tight against his chest. His fingertips gently caressed her hair, his palm stroked her cheek and her eyelids slipped shut again.

‘I don’t know what that means, but it sounds nice.’

‘My beautiful,’ he whispered.

A moan slipped from her. She couldn’t do anything for her father but wait. The warmth and comfort from Farid’s stroking eased the lonely anticipation and lulled her into a daze, neither sleeping nor awake, hovering in a world of heavenly peace.

∞∞∞

A ringing sound filtered into Holly’s half-conscious daze. Where was she? Lying down. Warm. The scent of amber oil permeated her dream state. Her cheek pressed against something hot. In her dream, she’d lain on a beach in Farid’s arms. Had they been dressed? The heat of his skin scorched against hers, his hands on her back, her lips on his. It was fading. The noise getting louder.

‘Holly.’ Farid spoke close to her ear in the darkness. She blinked her eyes open; he was holding her. Not on a beach but on the sofa, her on top, moulded into him like he was a memory foam mattress shaped exactly to fit her. Her mouth was dry as she tried to move. ‘Your phone is ringing.’ His right hand lifted from her back and he scrabbled around on the coffee table.

She manoeuvred into a half-sitting position and he followed, supporting her as she balanced. The ringing stopped. ‘Oh no. I hope nothing’s happened. Ma will be furious if she finds out I fell asleep.’

‘Ring back.’ Farid’s voice was husky. ‘It’s four in the morning. I hope it’s not bad news.’

Holly opened messenger and with heavy fingers hit call on her aunt’s little round picture. She answered on the first ring.

‘Here’s your mother,’ she said before Holly could speak.

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