Page 3 of Mistletoe Kisses at Cwtch Cove

Small hands flew up in the air and he looked around the hall of the local primary school not having a clue where to start. He glanced at one of the teachers and she smiled reassuringly so he pointed at the nearest hand.

‘What’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen on a job?’ a small girl with big, blue eyes, a rosebud mouth and two long, blonde plaits asked him.

Jack blinked. The worst thing he’d ever seen? There was no way he could share that with children. ‘Uhhh… I see lots of things. Like… uhhh… broken legs and arms, people being sick… uhhh—’

‘How much do you get paid?’ A boy sitting right in front of him shouted, saving him from the first question.

‘Hands up for questions!’ the teacher said firmly. ‘No shouting out.’

Jack looked at the boy who now had one finger lodged up his nose.

‘How much do I get paid? Well… that’s dependent on several things like the hours I work and the experience I have and… well, it works that way for all paramedics.’

‘Can I come in your ambulance?’ the boy asked.

‘I hope you’ll never need to,’ Jack said. ‘But if the children would like to see the inside of an ambulance, then I’m sure we can arrange something.’ He directed the comment at the teachers standing along the sides of the hall.

The head teacher took over then and thanked Jack. When he’d packed up his laptop and the equipment he’d brought in to show the children, he waited while the teachers cleared the hall then he made his way out of the school. He’d agreed to come and give a talk about his job as part of the school’s initiative to get local people in to share career details. He’d been a bit anxious about it the night before, not knowing if he'd be pitching it right or how he would feel standing up in front of the children of Cwtch Cove Primary School, but it had gone quite well. He knew a lot of the children and had been at school with some of their parents, so once he’d started talking, he’d found himself relaxing. However, it took a lot of energy and he didn’t know how teachers did it day in, day out. They must be exhausted by the end of each day.

In the school yard, the wind was icy and it crept under his collar and made his nose sting so he stopped to zip his coat. He hooked his bag over his shoulder then walked briskly towards the seafront, veering off to the right in the direction of the clifftop development.

As the houses came into sight, he smiled. He felt lucky to live in one of the modern houses with such amazing views of the cove and the horizon. He’d worked hard to earn enough money for the deposit and as a result he had a gorgeous home within walking distance of his parents’ house, the beach and the village, and it was furnished exactly the way he wanted. He wrinkled his nose. Of course it was furnished the way he wanted it to be because he lived alone and had bought the house alone. That was one of the advantages of being single at thirty-two.

When he reached his front garden, he opened the gate and headed up the path then set his bag down on the step while he got his keys out of his pocket. He was going to have lunch with his parents, so he wanted to get changed out of his uniform and to pick up a few things from the shop on his way there.

An hour later, he was walking around the village grocery shop with a basket over his arm, looking for his mum’s favourite chocolates and his dad’s favourite toffees. Even though he saw them most days, he liked to treat them because they were lovely parents and he always wanted them to feel appreciated. They’d been supportive and understanding throughout his life and had his back through some difficult times. To him, they weren’t just his mum and dad; they were friends too.

Items located, he added them to the basket then grabbed a nice bottle of wine and went to the counter. He knew that after a bowl of his dad’s chicken and pasta bake and a glass of the wine, he’d want a walk and a nap, but it was his day off so he could do exactly as he pleased.

* * *

‘Fifi! Get down!’ Ruth Perry wagged a finger at the white ball of fur that was humping furiously at Jack’s leg. ‘Fifi! You’ve been warned about this.’

Jack laughed as he tried to walk through the hallway of his parents’ home with the dog firmly attached to his right leg. He knew it didn’t help that he was laughing because Fifi was getting thoroughly mixed messages.

‘It’s fine, Mum, don’t worry,’ he said as they entered the kitchen. He set the bag of goodies he’d purchased in the shop on the table then reached down and picked Fifi up. She showered his face and neck with doggy kisses, and he turned his head from side to side as he tried to avoid getting her tongue in his mouth.

‘Ahhh… Fifi’s delighted to see you, Jack.’ His dad patted him on the back. ‘Nothing like a new leg to hump. She’s already worn away the legs of most of my jeans and ruined your mum’s new slippers.’

‘Poor Fifi.’ Jack lowered the dog to the floor and she immediately pounced on his leg. ‘It must be exhausting.’

‘If she hadn’t been spayed, I’d think it was due to hormones, but the vet said it’s nothing to worry about. Apparently, it can be down to a playful and energetic nature and sometimes because of excess energy.’

‘I’ll take her for a long walk later, shall I?’ Jack asked. He’d have loved a dog of his own but with the shifts he worked and living alone, he didn’t think it would be fair. He knew his parents would have looked after the dog while he was in work, but they had their hands full with Fifi — who they’d adopted from the local animal rescue centre six months ago — and he didn’t like to put on them. As their only child, he knew he was the centre of their world, but he never wanted to take advantage.

‘She’d love that, Jack,’ his mum said, peering at him from beneath her thick grey fringe. ‘She enjoys her walks with you. Ooh! You brought wine.’ She pulled the bottle from the bag and showed his dad.

‘Excellent move, Jack. The food will be ready in about an hour, so we’ll have a glass then, shall we?’

‘No, Euan, let’s have one now. We have a white in the fridge already so we can open that and have this one with dinner.’

Jack’s dad chuckled. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk, Ruth?’

‘Of course I am, darling, so I can have my wicked way with you.’ She winked at Jack. ‘A few wines and he’ll pass out in front of the TV then I can watch what I want.’

‘You always watch what you want, Ruth.’ His dad rolled his hazel eyes. ‘I know who’s the boss in this house. You’ve turned my hair white with some of the things you watch on TV.’ He rubbed a hand over his thick, white hair.

Jack grinned at them then looked down at the dog. She’d given up humping and was sitting in front of the oven. ‘It looks like Fifi’s more interested in the chicken than my leg now.’

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