Page 75 of A Festive Surprise

Chapter Twenty-Five

Farid

Sunday dragged on forever. Holly was just through the wall but the cottage was silent. Maybe she’d gone out or left. It wasn’t Farid’s business to know or care, but he did. Every twenty minutes or so, he would look out the window either front or back, hoping for a sight or sound of her, knowing it would change nothing. His soul ached for its mate.

He tried television, music, and reading, but nothing kept his attention. Monday morning couldn’t come quick enough. The significance of Christmas Eve was lost on him; it was just another day in the office – or in his case, the forest.

Mike had finished up on Friday, but Per showed up in a Santa hat with a wrapped box. ‘Merry Christmas.’ He handed it to Farid.

‘Thank you so much. I’m sorry, I have nothing in return.’

‘That’s quite all right. We get enough as it is. You enjoy it. If we get this cleared up, we’ll leave as soon as. I want to spend the day waiting for Santa with Polly and Rory. There’s nothing so magical as seeing it through the eyes of the children.’

‘I can do this myself,’ said Farid. ‘You go back to your family.’

‘Oh, that’s very kind. But don’t you want to get away and spend some time with your lovely girlfriend?’

‘Holly’s working. I will do this. It’s my gift to you.’

‘Thank you, son. You’re a kind lad.’ Per clapped Farid’s shoulder. ‘I forgot Holly was working. She’s gone to visit Robyn this morning, hasn’t she? Carl said so.’

‘Did he?’ Farid gave a little cough, hoping to hide his ignorance, but it meant Holly was still on the island.

‘Yes. He drove me over this morning. He’s doing something for Georgia. If you’re sure about doing this, I’ll nip to Monarch’s Lodge and see how he’s getting on. And I can fill Archie in on what we’ve got left to do.’

‘Yes, no problem.’

‘I hope your first Christmas in Scotland is one to remember.’

‘Thank you and Merry Christmas to you too.’ He’d remember this Christmas forever, though not for the right reasons.

He rolled up the sleeves of the red tartan lumberjack shirt and started throwing cut logs onto the pile. Per had meant only to clear the section they’d been working on but what was the rush and where else was there to go? Farid carried on, clearing the undergrowth and making way for the area they would tackle in the new year. A year Farid had hoped would bring something good. Now it looked as bleak and grim as the last.

Why had he let himself go with Holly? What had seemed like a harmless mission was now a blight on his ever-growing list of misjudgements.

If he’d kept his mouth shut and his head down two years ago, he might not be here at all. He and his family may eventually have been forced to flee but who knew? Maybe following his convictions had led him into more trouble than it was worth. Now, he’d done the same in his personal life. This time, no one would have to deal with the fallout but himself. His attempts to assimilate had backfired. So much for learning about the magic of Christmas. This was just another day in the cold, worse than the others because it was lonely. Everyone else was home with their families.

‘Why?’ He glanced heavenward. Why had he behaved like a fool? He’d escaped the danger at home but he couldn’t protect himself from himself. His family would be horrified at what he’d done, laid himself bare at the feet of a woman, let her use him, then cast him out. Maybe she was right. He’d been infatuated. Now he was alone.

His chest ached. Would he ever escape and be free? No matter what he did, he couldn’t win. ‘For Farid, there is no home, no joy, no love.’ He slung aside a pile of branches, letting them clatter to the ground.

The work built up a sweat on his brow and he stopped to catch his breath. This self-deprecation wasn’t him. He was a survivor. He could get through this.

A twig snapped on the path behind. His heart skipped. Had Holly come to find him? A man’s voice called out, ‘Dexter, get back here.’ A liver-coloured pointer came bounding through the undergrowth.

‘Hey.’

The dog loped up to him, wagging its narrow tail.

‘Dexter!’ the man shouted. It was Archie. He stepped off the path and a second pointer stood at his side, poised and calm. ‘Oh, hello, Farid. I wondered why he ran off. Come here, Dexter.’ The dog dropped his nose and sniffed a bush.

‘He’s not as well-behaved as this one.’ Farid pointed to the dog at Archie’s side.

‘No, this is Duchess. She’s his mother and she has more decorum. I thought you’d gone home.’

The word sliced into Farid. Home? Did he have a true home? ‘No, not yet.’

‘Per called by and said you were getting on great. I’m happy to keep you on in the new year, but there’s not enough work here to last indefinitely.’

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