Christmas Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

afternoon would be best, when the sun was behind the hills and everything was getting gloomy.

In the meantime, she had twelve minutes to kill until the next batch of biscuits was ready. As she scooped the slightly cooled angels off the baking sheet and on to a cooling rack she drifted into one of her top ten daydreams…

It was a balmy summer day. A large picnic blanket was stretched out in the walled garden. Somewhere in the distance children squealed. Her eyes were closed and her head lay on Ben’s lap as he twisted lengths of her hair around his finger, then released them again. Time had slowed, the seconds now hummed out by the bees in the lavender rather than the hands of a clock.

Louise sank into a chair and rested her elbows on the kitchen table. Supporting her chin in her hands, she shut out reality by lowering her lids.

In the daydream, she opened her eyes. He was looking down at her, pure admiration on his face, and she knew he saw into every part of her. It took her breath away. For so long, all she’d seen in men’s eyes was a certain wolfish hunger. They admired the packaging, but very few were prepared to take the trouble to unwrap it. And those who did, like Toby, considered the gift inside disposable.

She shook her head. This was supposed to be the bit where Ben leaned in to kiss her, and she was not having it invaded by the likes of Toby. He had no place here in her summer garden.

Just as the imaginary Ben blocked out the sun by leaning forward, leaving her in a cool shadow, better able to see his darkening pupils…Just as she could feel his breath on her skin…

The phone rang. The real phone.

Damn!

Louise snapped her eyes open and she jumped up from the chair. She could let the answering machine get it, but whoever it was would only ring back and interrupt her later. Reluctantly, she grabbed the handset from its cradle on the kitchen counter.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Louise.’

The rich, deep voice was as familiar to her as her own. All thoughts of bees, lavender and sunshine washed from her head on a tidal wave of irritation. ‘Toby.’

She wasn’t going to ask him how he was; she was past caring, actually. And she certainly didn’t need to hear about his cosy new life with twenty-three-year-old Miranda, thank you very much.

Toby said nothing, and she was tempted to put the phone down on him. He’d always done this-made her do the talking, ask the questions, prise information out of him. Well, she wasn’t playing his games any more. He obviously had something to tell her or he wouldn’t be phoning. He could just spit it out all on his own.

He coughed. Nope, she still wasn’t biting. Not even to say, What do you want? This time he could do all the work, do all the giving instead of the taking.

‘Louise?…I wanted to talk to you about Christmas.’

‘Talk away.’ She leaned against the counter and waited.

‘Well, you see…I’ve been given a freebie, a holiday in Lapland. And I wondered if you’d mind if Jack came with me.’

Louise’s stomach went cold. She’d been trying very hard not to think about the fact that Jack was spending Christmas Day and the following week with his father. It would be her first Christmas without him. But Lapland… Jack would be enthralled!

‘That’s fine with me, Toby. I’ll pack warm clothes for him. Are you still coming down on the twenty-fourth to pick him up?’

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds.

‘Toby?’

‘The flights are booked for the twenty-second.’

Monday? That was a whole three days early! Just like that, the bottom fell out of Louise’s Christmas.

‘Can’t you change it?’ she asked, forgetting to hide the panic in her voice.

‘Sorry. It’s now or never.’

‘I…I…’

Toby let out an irritated breath. ‘Come on, Louise. Lapland. Jack will love it-and I’ve missed seeing him for the last month because I’ve been on location. It will be just Jack and me. Father and son time. He needs it.’

Unfortunately, Toby was right. Jack did need it. He’d missed his dad terribly since he’d left Gloucestershire.

‘Just you and Jack? What about…’ she wanted to say her, but she managed to force her mouth into the right shape ‘…Miranda?’

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. ‘Miranda is…Actually, Miranda’s history.’

Her eyebrows rose. Really?

‘I miss you, Lulu.’ His voice had that soft, gravelly tone that used to turn her insides to mush.

‘I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to get over it, Toby.’

She shuddered. No way could she ever go back to that life. No matter how far the tabloids thought she’d fallen, or how many celebrity magazines had her at the brink of suicide. She knew in her heart that she was free, happier now than she’d been in more than twenty years.

‘Don’t be like that, hon. I’m just trying to be friendly.’

It all came sharply into focus. Poor little Miranda probably hadn’t realised what hard work a movie star fifteen years her senior would be. And Toby was a movie star who’d grown used to having absolutely everything his own way for most of that time.

Guilt washed over her. That was partly her fault. She’d let him get away with murder, had fooled herself she’d been doing it out of love, when really she’d just been scared he’d see through her glamorous exterior and reject her if she wasn’t everything he wanted.

Well, he had. And she’d survived.

No way was Mr Tobias Thornton talking her into being his doormat again! She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it, desperate to tell him to go to hell. However, she had to keep the relationship amicable for Jack’s sake. It was hard enough for a kid to have to deal with his parents’ divorce, let alone hearing the bullet points of every argument in the playground. This wasn’t about her; it was about Jack.

‘Okay. You can take Jack to Lapland, but I want extra time at Easter.’

Toby blew out a breath. ‘Thanks. I’ll need to pick him up tomorrow afternoon. We have to leave early Monday morning from Gatwick.’

Disappointment speared through her, harder and deeper than before. ‘Fine. See you then.’

She hung up without waiting for any pleasantries and drew in a long steadying breath. Now all she had to do was tell Jack the good news without bursting into tears.

There was a strange car parked slap-bang in front of Whitehaven. Ben noticed it the moment he stepped out of the woods and on to the front lawn. Strange, because it was unknown to him and strange because no one in their right mind would drive such a low-slung sports car in countryside like this. If it rained hard, he’d give the owner five minutes before it stalled in a ford or got stuck in some mud.

He was just wondering if he should check whether Louise was okay when she emerged from the house with Jack in her arms. She was hugging him tight, oblivious to anyone else. A man followed her out of the house, dressed all in black and wearing sunglasses. Ben snorted to himself. They were only days away from the solstice, the shortest day, and there was no crisp afternoon sun, just relentless grey clouds.

The guy removed his glasses and shoved them in a pocket and Ben suddenly recognised him. Weren’t most people in films supposed to be shorter and uglier than they looked on screen? Unfortunately, Tobias Thornton was neither. He looked every inch the action hero. He smiled at his ex-wife and kissed her on the cheek. Ben thought he lingered a little too long, but Louise smiled brightly up at him.

Right. There was no use standing here like a lemon. This was family stuff. Private stuff. He might as well go and check on the greenhouses, as he did first every Sunday afternoon.

On reflection, he thought he might have over-pruned the first plant that received his attention in the greenhouse. Seeing Louise and Toby standing there in front of the house had reminded him of all those photos Jas