‘Corinne-’
‘Alex, please don’t. It’s been so lovely. Don’t spoil it.’
‘Is it spoiling it to say that you’re still my wife and I still love you?’
‘Don’t talk like that,’ she begged.
‘Corinne, what is it? I thought that when we’d been apart for a while-’
‘I’d “see sense”? That’s how you think of it, isn’t it? You think I had to be crazy to leave you, and that I’ll realise I made a mistake.’
‘Are you going to say you didn’t?’
‘Yes, I am saying that. I wanted a home, husband and children, and all I got was the children. They’re lovely kids, but I wanted a husband as well.’
‘And you couldn’t love me?’
‘You weren’t there. You haven’t been there for years.’
His eyes kindled. ‘Tell me about this man you want to love. He wouldn’t be called Jimmy by any chance?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Is it? I can see that he’s a lot of things I’m not-things you might want.’
‘Yes, he is. He’s kind and dependable, and I always know where I am with him, but-’
Corinne checked herself, on the verge of saying, But he’s not you.
It had been a risk, asking Alex to stay for Christmas, but she’d told herself that she must take it for the children’s sake. Now she knew it had been a mistake. Her love was not sufficiently buried, or perhaps not sufficiently dead. It threatened her too often and too piercingly.
Alex watched her, willing her to say something that would ease his heart.
‘But?’ he urged. ‘But you haven’t forgotten “us.” Have you?’
‘No,’ she admitted unwillingly. ‘I can’t forget that. I’m not sorry we married. We were very happy back then, and I’ll never regret it.’
‘If we had the time over again-you’d still marry me?’
‘Oh, yes. Even knowing how it would end, I’d still do it.’
‘It hasn’t ended yet. We don’t know how it’s going to end.’
‘Alex-’
He took hold of her shoulders, very gently. ‘It’s too soon to say,’ he told her. ‘Don’t let’s rush to part, Corinne.’
She gave a wry smile. ‘I thought we
‘Tell me that you don’t love me any more,’ he said insistently.
‘And you’re an ace negotiator, always knowing the other side’s weak spot.’
‘Then you do love me.’
‘I don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘I’m trying not to.’ She added reluctantly, ‘But it’s hard.’
He drew her against him, not kissing her this time but wrapping his arms about her body and holding her close while he rested his cheek on her head.
After a while he felt her arms slowly go around him, and they stayed there peacefully together for a long time.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHEN his tiny illuminated clock showed midnight, Bobby slid out of bed and went quietly into the hall. The house was completely silent and almost dark, except for a faint glow he could see downstairs.
Moving noiselessly, he crept down the stairs and into the room where the tree glowed. On the threshold he stopped and an expression of relief crossed his face.
‘I knew you’d be here,’ he whispered.
The red-clad figure by the tree turned and smiled at him through his huge white beard.
‘Come in,’ he said.
Bobby moved closer. In dim light, and on his feet, Santa looked bigger than ever.
‘Did you have trouble with the chimney?’ he asked. ‘I was afraid it might not be big enough.’
Santa looked down at his wide girth. ‘You mean with there being so much of me?’
‘I wasn’t being rude.’
Santa laughed, not a
‘It’s not as bad as some places I’ve tried,’ he said.
‘What about when there’s no fireplace?’ Bobby asked. ‘How do you get in then?’
Santa tapped the side of his nose and winked. ‘Trade secret,’ he said.
He sat down in the armchair, put down the can of beer he was holding and signalled for Bobby to sit. Bobby plonked himself down on the floor.
‘You know how I got so fat?’ Santa asked.
Bobby shook his head.
‘In their kindness, people leave more out for me than I can possibly eat.’ He indicated the hearth. ‘How about you have the milk and we’ll split the tarts and biscuits? I’ve had most of the beer and it was great. Whoever left that was a genius.’
‘It was my idea,’ Bobby said eagerly. ‘Mitzi insisted on putting out a glass for you as well. I said you wouldn’t be bothered, but you know what girls are.’
‘Actually, Mitzi was right,’ Santa confided, holding up a glass with beer in it. ‘Drinking from the can is awkward when you’ve got a beard.’
He poured milk from the carton into the other glass and the two of them sat sipping and sharing tarts.
‘So what happened?’ he asked. ‘Did your dad show up?’
‘Yes, just like you said. A day early. How did you know?’
Santa hesitated. ‘Inside information.’
‘Do you know everything?’
‘No,’ Santa replied at once.
‘So you can’t tell me how long he’s going to stay?’
‘I already did, when we talked yesterday. Longer than tomorrow.’
‘But after that?’
‘What do you really want him to do?’ Santa asked thoughtfully
‘Stay as long as possible.’
Santa looked at him keenly. ‘Are you hoping I’ll wave a magic wand?’
But his thoughtful son shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘He has to want to, or there’s no point.’
‘That’s right,’ Santa agreed. ‘You can’t make people choose what you’d like them to.’
‘You mean he doesn’t really want to stay with us?’
‘Oh, yes, he does. You’re his family, and he loves you all more than anything else on earth, even if he doesn’t always show it very cleverly. But he got confused and other things got in the way. Now he’s trying to find the way back to the place where he took the wrong turning, but it isn’t easy. The road seems different when you’re looking backwards. But you could help him.’
‘How?’
‘I can’t tell you that. You have to sense it for yourself. But you will. Don’t worry.’
Santa indicated the tree.
‘Have you got your presents sorted out?’
‘Yes. I got a scarf for Mum and a picture book for Mitzi.’
‘And your dad?’
‘Well-I got him a pair of cufflinks.’
‘It sounds like a good choice, so what’s the problem?’ Bobby’s voice had hinted that all was not well.
