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She moved out of the way, and he dragged it through the doorway, shedding snow and needles and other debris all over the place. Then he emerged from underneath it, propped it in the corner and grinned at them both.
‘Well, that’s the easy bit done,’ he said. There was a leaf in his hair, in amongst the sprinkles of snow, and she had to stuff her hand in her pocket to stop from reaching out and picking it off.
‘What’s the hard bit?’ she said, trying to concentrate.
‘Getting it to stay upright in the stand, and finding the right side.’
She chuckled, still eyeing the leaf. ‘I can remember one year my mother cut so much off the tree trying to even it up she threw it out onto the compost heap and bought an artificial one.’
He laughed and turned his back on the tree and met her eyes with a smile. ‘Well, that won’t happen here. There’s no way I can find the secateurs, and the compost heap’s far too far away.’
‘Well, let’s hope it’s a good tree, then,’ she said drily. ‘How about coffee while it drip-dries? And then, talking of my mother, I really should phone her and tell her what’s happening.’
‘Do that now, although I expect she’s worked it out. The news is full of it. The entire country’s ground to a halt, so at least we’re not alone. And at least you’re both safe. There are plenty of people who’ve been stuck on the motorways overnight.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh, yeah. It’s bad. Go on, ring her, and I’ll make the coffee,’ he offered, so she picked up the phone and dialled the number, and the moment she said, ‘Hi, Mum,’ Josh was clamouring for the phone.
‘Want G’annie! Me phone!’
‘Oh, Mum, just have a quick word with him, can you, and then I’ll fill you in.’
‘Are you stuck there? We thought you must be. It’s dreadful here.’
‘Oh, yes. Well and truly—OK, Josh, you can talk to Grannie now.’
She handed over the phone to the pleading child, and he beamed and started chatting. And because he was two, he just said the things that mattered to him.
‘G’annie, ’Bastian got a big tree!’
Oh, no! Why hadn’t she thought of that? She held out her hand for the phone. ‘OK, darling, let Mummy have the phone now. You’ve said hello to Grannie.’
But he was having none of it, and ran off. ‘We got snow, and we stuck,’ he went on, oblivious. ‘And we having a ’venture, and ’Bastian got biscuits—’
Biscuits. That was the way forward.
She grabbed the packet off the table and waved them at him. ‘Come and sit down and give me the phone and you can have biscuits,’ she said, and wrestled the receiver off him.
‘Hi. Sorry about that. He’s a bit excited. Anyway, Mum, I’m really just ringing to say we’re stuck here for the foreseeable. The lane is head high, apparently, and there’s just no way out, so we aren’t going to be able to get to you until it’s cleared, and I very much doubt it’ll be today—’
‘Did he say Sebastian?’
Oh, rats. Trust her to cut to the chase. ‘Uh—yeah. He did.’
‘As in Sebastian Corder? At Easton Court? Is that where you are?’
‘Uh—yeah.’ Her brain dried up, and she ground to a halt, but it didn’t matter because her mother had plenty to say and no hesitation in saying it.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me last night! Are you all right? Of all the places to be stuck—is he OK with you? And you said “they”—is there someone else there? His family? A woman? Not a woman—oh, darling, do be careful—’
‘Mum, it’s fine—’
‘How can it be fine? Georgia, he broke your heart!’
‘I think it was pretty mutual,’ she said softly. ‘Look, Mum, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we’re OK, and we’re alive, which is the main thing, and he’s being really generous and it’s fine. And there’s nobody else here, just us. His family were coming today. Don’t stress. Nothing’s going to happen.’
Nothing more than the kiss they’d already exchanged, but they’d promised each other no repeats...
‘You can’t just tell me not to stress, I’m your mother. That’s what we do! And he’s—’ Her mother broke off and floundered for a moment, lost for a definition.
‘What?’ Georgie prompted softly. ‘An old friend? And at least we know he’s not a serial killer.’
‘He doesn’t need to be. There’s more than one way to hurt someone.’
And didn’t she know that. ‘Mum, it’s fine. I’m a big girl now. I can manage. Look, I have to go, he’s made coffee for us and then we’re going to decorate the tree. I’ll give you a ring as soon as I know what’s happening with the snow, OK? And give Dad a hug from us and tell him we’ll see him soon. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’
She hung up before her mother could say any more, and turned to find Sebastian watching her thoughtfully across the table.
‘I take it she’s not impressed.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You’d think you were holding us hostage, the fuss she’s making.’
‘She’s your mother. She’s bound to stress.’
‘That’s exactly what she said.’ She sat down at the table with a plonk and gave a frustrated little laugh. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘About your mother, who you have no control over, or the weather, for which ditto?’ He smiled wryly and pushed the biscuits towards her.
‘Here, have one of these before your son finishes them all, and let’s go and tackle this tree.’
CHAPTER FIVE (#udaadd2fe-d1f2-5493-b3f5-7368ff97c9ab)
EASIER SAID THAN DONE.
It took the best part of an hour to wrestle the tree into the room and get it in the right position, and by the end of it he was hot, cross and had a nice bruise on his finger from pinching it in the clamp.
‘Look on the bright side,’ Georgie said, standing back to study it critically. ‘At least it’s a nice soft fir and not a prickly old spruce. And it fitted under the beam.’
He stuck his head out from underneath it and gave her a look. ‘Just don’t tell me to turn it round again,’ he growled, and she smiled sweetly and widened her eyes.
‘As if. It looks good. It’s even vertical. That’s a miracle in itself. So, where are the decorations?’
He worked his way out from under the tree and stood up, brushing bits of vegetation off his cashmere sweater. Probably not the best choice of garment for the task in hand, but with Georgia in the house he didn’t seem to be able to think clearly. ‘In my study. Come and have a look.’
She followed him to the room that they’d christened the music room, under her bedroom. There was a desk in there positioned to take advantage of the views over the garden, and apart from the laptop on the desk, there was nothing to give away that it was an office. She wondered how much work he did here, or was planning to, or if it was just a weekend cottage.
Some cottage, she thought drily.
There was a stack of boxes beside the desk, and he pulled one of the boxes off the pile and opened it on the desk. ‘I’m not convinced they’re child-friendly.’
Probably not, she thought, eyeing the expensive packaging. The decorations were all immaculately boxed, individually wrapped in tissue paper and made of glass. Beautiful though they were, she wasn’t in a hurry to put them in reach of Josh.
‘Not good?’ he asked, and she shrugged.
‘They’re lovely. Beautiful, but they aren’t really safe within his reach. He’s a bit small to understand about cutting his fingers off.’
Sebastian winced. ‘We could put them higher up, out of his reach.’
‘We could. And we could decorate the lower part with other things. And they aren’t all glass. Look, these ones are traditional pâpier maché, it says. They’ll be all right, and I can make gingerbread stars and trees, and decorate them with icing—have you got icing sugar and colourings?’
He raised his hands palm-up and pulled a face. ‘How would I know?’
‘You put the stuff away in your kitchen?’
He shook his head. ‘My mother put a lot of the food away. She was here when it arrived. I was still in London.’
‘Ah. Well, in that case we’ll have to go and look or be imaginative. There are fir trees in the grounds. We can find fir cones and berries and things—’
‘May I remind you that everything in the garden is submerged under a foot of snow?’ he said drily, and she smiled.
‘I’m sure you’ll manage. Coloured paper? Glue? Sticky tape?’
He had a horrible feeling the tree was going to end up looking like a refugee from a craft programme on the television, but then Josh crawled through the kneehole of the desk pushing his stapler along the floor and making ‘vroom vroom’ noises, and he suddenly didn’t care what the tree looked like. He just wanted Josh to be safe, and happy, and together they could have fun making stuff for the tree.
Well, Josh could. He wasn’t sure he’d be so thrilled by it, but hey. Josh was just a kid, and Sebastian wasn’t going to put his own feelings before the child’s. No way.
‘Let’s put this lot on the top half,’ he suggested, ‘and I’ll go and see what I can find in the garden while you make the biscuits. I’m sure I’ve got ribbon and sticky tape and coloured wrapping paper left from the presents.’
She smiled, her whole face softening. ‘Thanks. That would be great. OK, Josh, let’s go and make the tree pretty, shall we?’
‘Lights first,’ Sebastian said, picking up the box.
‘Do they flash?’
‘No they don’t,’ he said, appalled. ‘Nor are they blue. Christmas tree lights should be white, like stars.’
‘Stars twinkle,’ she pointed out, and started singing ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star’, but he’d had enough. Laughing in exasperation, he turned her shoulders, gave her a little push towards the door and followed her back to the sitting room, trying really, really hard not to breathe in the scent of her perfume.
* * *
‘Your mother rang.’
He paused in the act of tugging off his boots and met her eyes. ‘Ah. I sent her a text earlier saying the lane was impassable and Christmas wasn’t going to happen tomorrow. What did you say to her?’
She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Nothing. I’m not that stupid. She rang the house first, and I heard the answerphone cut in, and then she rang your mobile. It came up on the screen.’
‘Right. OK. I’ll go and call her.’
‘So did you find fir cones and berries?’
‘Fir cones. Not berries. The birds were all over them, and I thought their need was greater, but I’ve got some greenery. I’ve left it all out here to drip for a bit. Something smells good.’
‘That’s the biscuits.’
‘Mmm. They probably need testing. Did you make spares?’ he asked hopefully.
She shook her head, then relented and smiled at him when he pulled a disappointed face. ‘I’m sure there’ll be breakages.’
He felt his mouth twitch. ‘I’m sure it can be arranged even if there aren’t. Stick the kettle on, I’m starving and I could do with a drink. I’ll go and call my mother and then we can have lunch.’
He went into the study and picked up the phone, listened to the message and rang her. ‘So how is it? Are you cut off, too?’
‘Yes, and your brothers aren’t here, either. They were coming up last night but of course they watched the news and thought better of it. They’re spending Christmas together, though, so they’ll be fine.’
‘So you’ll be alone?’
‘Well, we hope not. We were still hoping you might be able to get out with your Range Rover to collect us.’
‘No chance. It’s head high in the lane and I don’t see it thawing with the weather so cold and clear. We’re going to have to postpone Christmas for days, I’m afraid. It could be ages before they get through here with a snow plough.’
‘Oh, darling, I’m so sorry, how disappointing. And I can’t bear to think of you spending your first Christmas there on your own.’
Except, of course, he wouldn’t be, but there was no way he was telling her that. ‘I’m more worried for you,’ he said, hastily moving the subject on. ‘I don’t know what you’re going to eat, I’ve got all the food here at this end.’
‘Well, don’t try and keep it. Just have it and enjoy it and we’ll worry about restocking later. At least it’s only us, and I’m sure I’ve got things in the freezer. We’ll be fine, but be careful with all that food at yours and freeze anything you can’t use in time. You don’t want to get food poisoning eating it past its use-by date—’
‘Mum,’ he said warningly, and she sighed.
‘Sorry, but you can’t stop me worrying about you. Big as you are, you’re still my son.’
If only that was true, he thought with a pang, but he didn’t go there because he knew that in every way that mattered, he was. Well, his heart knew that, and now, after all these years, he was finally able to accept it. His head, though—that still wanted answers—
He heard a noise and realised that Josh had followed him into the study and was crawling around on the floor with the stapler vrooming again, and he swivelled the chair round and watched him out of the corner of his eye while he listened to his mother making alternative plans and telling him how they were going to get together with the neighbours and it would all be fine, and they’d see him soon.
And then Josh stood up under the desk and banged his head, and started to cry.
‘Hang on.’ He dropped the phone and scooped Josh up into his arms, cross with himself for not anticipating it so that now Josh was hurt, and cross with Georgia for letting him out of her sight so that it could happen in the first place.
And he was hurt. Real tears were welling in his eyes, and without thinking Sebastian sat back in his chair, cuddled him close and kissed his head better, murmuring reassurance. Josh snuggled into him, sniffing a little, and from the phone on the desk he could hear his mother’s tinny voice saying, ‘Sebastian? Sebastian, whose child is that?’
Why hadn’t he just hung up? But he hadn’t, and there was no way round this. He picked up the receiver with a sigh and prepared himself for an earbashing.
‘It’s Georgia Becket’s little boy—’
‘Georgie’s? I didn’t know you were seeing her! How long’s this been going on?’
‘It’s not. It isn’t,’ he told her hastily. ‘She was on her way home for Christmas yesterday afternoon and the other road was blocked so she tried the short cut and got stuck outside the gates. And it was almost dark, so the obvious thing to do was let them stay. I was going to take her home today, but the weather rather messed that up so we’re just making the best of it, really.’
