Page 64 of Only for Christmas

‘You can sit here.’ Max lifted the throw so Sarah could snuggle next to him.

Lucas sat on the floor in front of Elliot. He was rewarded with a foot pressed into his spine. He didn’t care. With the light fading outside, and the candles flickering inside, he was content to sit back and watch an amusing film about a kid persuading his dad to help him break Santa Claus out of jail.

Lucas glanced behind at the scene on the couch. A lump formed in his throat as he watched Sarah, Fred and the boys cuddling on the sofa. This was the life he wanted. Family. Love. Laughter.

It was just a shame it wasn’t something he could have.

Not with Sarah, anyhow.

Chapter Thirteen

Wednesday, 21st December

Sarah couldn’t remember the last time she’d fallen asleep during the day. It felt quite decadent to be laid out on the sofa under a throw with Fred curled up on her feet. Daylight had faded while she’d been snoozing and it was now dark outside, the faint glow of the street lamps filtering through the window from the street below. She should really get up and close the curtains, but she was comfy, and she didn’t want to disturb Fred.

It had been a strange week, a mixture of ups and downs. Her intention had been to take Fred to Battersea Dogs & Cats Home yesterday and start the process of finding him another home. She wouldn’t leave him there; that would be cruel. Instead, she’d hoped the charity would allow her to hang on to him until he’d been matched with a new owner.

Whether she would have gone through with it, she’d never know. She wasn’t enthusiastic at the idea of losing her companion; she’d grown accustomed to his furry face. So when Lucas and his nephews had turned up, it was the perfect excuse to change her plans.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she sensed Fred was relieved too. Almost as if he’d known what was coming and had been on his best behaviour all day.

Any plans to rehome Fred today also ended when Harper had shown up this morning and suggested a girly trip out. It had been a surprise when she’d opened the door to find Lucas’s sister standing there, but not an unwelcome one. Harper was fun. She was also in need of company, and Sarah was glad of the distraction. Overthinking was an exhausting pastime.

They visited the hairdresser’s first, where Sarah finally had her fringe trimmed. This was followed by a nail bar, and ended with a boozy lunch, where she’d eaten cheesy chips and drunk several glasses of Sauvignon Blanc. The result was a lot of laughing, a fuzzy head and the need for an afternoon nap when she’d arrived home. That was two hours ago; she’d been asleep ever since.

‘Maybe I’ll take you to the dogs’ home tomorrow,’ she said lazily to Fred, reaching down to stroke his ears. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Some lucky family will snap you up. You’re a catch, Fred Bassett.’

Fred sighed and let his tongue hang loose, making his feelings on the subject known. Was it crazy that she’d started thinking about moving flat so she wouldn’t have to give him up? He looked at home on her sofa, all relaxed and sleepy; it seemed cruel to be contemplating rehoming him.

Their relaxed state disappeared in a flurry of discarded blankets and flying cushions when someone knocked loudly on her front door. The noise sent Fred into a frenzy of barking, and they almost fell off the sofa as they scrambled to their feet.

‘Shush!’ she said, chasing after him into the hallway. ‘Stop barking, you daft animal, it’s probably just Lucas.’

Was it wrong that she hoped it was Lucas? Her pulse quickened at the idea of a visit from her neighbour, and she stopped to check her appearance in the hall mirror… and then wished she hadn’t. Her face was creased and her hair was matted from falling asleep.

‘Coming!’ She frantically wiped away smudged mascara and flattened her hair, realising she was minus one sock.

It took her brain a moment to compute that it wasn’t Lucas standing on the other side of the door, but Stephen Stokes. Her instinct was to slam the door in his annoying face, but Fred had shot between her legs and was growling at the new medical director in a slightly aggressive manner. It was a side of Fred she hadn’t witnessed before. He didn’t like the man, either. Fred was a smart individual.

‘Stephen?’ she said, failing to hide her shock, and embarrassed at being caught off-guard. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

He tried to move closer, but Fred blocked his path. ‘I wanted to see if you were okay? You haven’t been at work this week.’

‘I’ve taken leave,’ she said, knowing she should pull Fred away, but she was reluctant to do so; he was acting as her protector.

‘So I heard.’ Stephen’s eyes narrowed. He was dressed in one of his power suits. Pin-striped, designer. Navy, with a bold red tie. ‘It’s rather short notice to book time off? Company policy requires at least a week’s notice for annual leave requests.’

He was quoting the staff handbook at her? Was the man for real? ‘I’m aware of the policy, Stephen. The directive also allows for the notice period to be waived for emergencies.’ She reached down to grab Fred’s collar – partly for her own comfort, but also to stop him biting her boss. Fred had teeth.

‘What’s so urgent that you had to take a week off?’

Sarah couldn’t make out Stephen’s expression. It didn’t look natural, like he’d had Botox and was forcing himself to appear polite, when really he was annoyed. Dealing with him at work was challenging enough, but being confronted at her home was decidedly unnerving. ‘I had a fall last Friday evening and felt I needed some time off to recover.’

‘What kind of fall? Are you injured?’ His eyes ran the length of her, intrusive and lingering. She hadn’t injured her breasts, she felt like telling him, but that would only invite further glances at her chest area, and she was feeling exposed enough as it was in her thin wrap top.

‘Nothing you need to concern yourself about. I’m fine.’

His gaze landed on her strapped wrist. ‘You don’t look fine.’

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