Christmas Eva (6 page)

Shocked, Harry picked up his cup, taking a few quick sips while he formulated an answer. He had to choose his words carefully. “You really think God did this to you? It wasn't God driving the car that night.”

“He made it rain. He saw to it that Sue died, and I ended up in this chair. I should have died with her. If she hadn't pushed me out of the way—”

“You really think that?” He set down his cup. This was a classic case of survivor's guilt. “God loves you, Eva. And so did Sue. And I think you know that. This was an accident, nothing more. Yes, Sue died and you were hurt and it's terrible, but it isn't God's fault.”

“Then we have to agree to disagree on that point.”

For now
. He silently resolved to change her mind. But talking about it at this moment would only turn into an argument, which would solve nothing.

He glanced at the clock. Was that really the time? Where had the morning gone? “I'm afraid I need to go. I have to pick up a couple of bits from the shops on my way to the theatre.”

She looked at him and then down. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Don't be sorry. And I'm not leaving because of what you said, before you think I am.” He smiled at her, concerned by the dismay on her face. “I promise—there's nothing wrong with a healthy debate on any subject. And for that matter, God doesn't mind us asking why things happen, so long as we're prepared to listen to His answer when it comes.” He paused. “In fact, as I enjoy your company so much, I'd like to see you again tomorrow, if you'd like that.”

She nodded. “I would…”

He drained his coffee. “But?”

“You can have your pick of women, why do you want to see me?”

He smiled. “I happen to like you, Eva, despite your attitude at times. There is something about you that intrigues me.”

She tilted her head. “Intrigues...you?”

He nodded. Actually, he found her incredibly alluring. Something about her touched him where no one else had, and until he understood what and how, he wanted to keep seeing her. “So, coffee. Tomorrow morning at the same time?”

Eva pulled her mouth to the side in a pleased albeit wry smile and nodded. “OK.”

Harry's heart sang within him. OK. She would see him again, and that was a good thing.

 

~*~

 

Eva sat by the window, watching for the lights of Felicity's car. She was later tonight than usual. Perhaps she'd stayed for the pantomime to finish. Maybe she'd had an accident. Behind her, the Christmas tree lights twinkled and reflected in the window. Trees shone in most of the windows along the road now. Several houses had outside lights.

She sighed. She used to love walking the streets at Christmas, looking at all the decorations. They'd be turning on the lights and tree in the precinct at the weekend. This would be the first year she'd missed the event. She'd always looked forward to the celebration—carols, mince pies, the actual moment some celebrity pressed the switch and everything suddenly became Christmassy. She didn't even know who was doing it this year.

Her sister's car pulled onto the drive, and Eva released a sigh of relief. The door slammed, footsteps stomped up the path. Not a good day at the office, Eva concluded, turning the chair slowly.

She hissed as she caught her fingers in the spokes of the wheel and shoved them into her mouth, sucking them to ease the pain.

Felicity stormed into the room, slinging her bag on the sofa.

“Hi,” Eva said. “How was your day, or shouldn't I ask?”

Her sister scowled. “I bought that makeup you suggested. It cost a fortune. And the makeup woman refused to use it. Matthew's face is now a mess. April was livid and actually fired the woman. I don't suppose there is any chance you could fill in, is there?”

“Me?”

“Yes, Eva, you.” Felicity sat in front of the chair and took Eva's hands. “April wanted me to offer you the job a while back anyway—remember there was something I was going to ask the day I told you about the panto?”

Eva nodded. “But you never told me what it was.”

“Yeah, but it was a job offer—full time at the theatre. And now she wants me to ask again. We need you. You know about this stuff, you've dealt with allergies before.”

Eva sighed. She wanted to, she'd loved the little she'd done the previous day, and she missed it, but it meant going outside even on rainy days, and that thought terrified her. “I can't. I'm sorry.”

Felicity sighed. “It's OK. We'll make do. If you change your mind, the offer is still there.” She paused. “Matthew asked after you.”

“Did he?”

“I think he likes you.” Her sister's voice took on a teasing tone. “How was coffee with him? Where did you go?”

“We stayed here. He wants to see me again, despite the fact I kinda lost it at one point. I got the chair stuck, and he had to rescue me.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Felicity pulled out her phone. “He asked me to tape something to show you. It went down a storm at the matinee, and he did it again tonight. The audience loved it. The director wasn't impressed, but agreed to it staying in.”

Eva caught her breath. “He didn't…” She looked down at the phone, watching the footage of Matthew in full costume.

He stood on the bow of the ship, hook on one hand and sword in the other. “Don't you argue with me, Smee.”

“I'm not arguing, Captain. I'm merely pointing out that perhaps chasing Peter Pan after a huge lunch isn't such a good idea. You'll get indigestion.”

“If I want to chase Peter Pan after lunch, I will chase Peter Pan after lunch, and there isn't a thing you can do about it, Smee. You know why?”

“Because you're the Captain, Captain?”

“No, Smee.” Matthew leapt onto the bow spit and held his arms wide. He flung his head back, and yelled, “Because I'm the king of the pirates!”

Eva smiled, and then giggled. “He actually did it. He stole my line.”

“Your line?” Felicity looked at her in amazement. “That was you?”

“Just the way the conversation went this morning after the chair got stuck. I didn't think he'd actually do it.”

Her sister nudged her. “See. I told you he liked you.”

Eva's face burned.

“And you like him. This is good. Anyway, he said to remind you about tomorrow.”

“OK.” She nodded. “Mum kept your dinner,” she said, changing the subject. “And I saved mine to eat with you.”

“Then we should go do that. I want to show Mum and Dad that clip. I can't believe that was your idea.”

Eva followed her sister from the room. Perhaps she should ask someone to get her some of those gloves Matthew was talking about. She glanced at her hand. The fingers were red and they hurt. She shoved the wheels.

He was looking forward to seeing her. And part of her wondered why. But the rest of her, the bigger part of her, couldn't believe it.

 

 

 

 

 

5

 

The morning dawned grey and wet. Too wet. Eva lay on her side in bed, her back to the window, music blasting through her headphones. She wouldn't get up at all. Or dress. She'd just stay here and ignore everything and everyone. Especially after yesterday. She'd upset Matthew by saying this was all God's fault. Upset Felicity by refusing her job offer. Upset Mum by not eating dinner with them. And Dad was upset because Mum was upset.

So, all in all, it'd be best if she just stayed out of the way today. In bed. Not like Matthew would come and see her anyway. Not after yesterday. Felicity had gone to work a while ago, as had her father. Her mother was planning on going out, but hadn't left yet.

The doorbell rang. Eva ignored it. She tugged the covers tighter around her. She ignored the knock at her door too.

“Eva, you have a visitor.”

“Go away.”

The door opened and closed, and her mother crossed the room. “You need to get up and be sociable. Mr. Lyell doesn't have much time, and he's come all this way to see you.”

Eva turned onto her back, biting her lip. “I'm not dressed, and I can't see him in my pj's.”

“So get dressed. It won't take long if I help.” Her mother tugged the covers away.

“I can manage,” she said, knowing it would take far longer if she did it alone.

Her mother shook her head. “I know you can, love, but not this morning. Do you want your jeans or slacks?”

Eva sighed. “I don't mind. You choose if you're so bent on dressing me.” Five minutes later, she was up, dressed, and in her chair, being pushed into the hallway. “I can manage from here. I thought you were going Christmas shopping.”

“I am.” Her mother kissed her forehead. “Do you need anything?”

Eva debated asking for the gloves, but shook her head. “No, I'm fine, but thank you. Have fun.” She slowly made her way into the lounge, hoping Matthew would have left. Not that she wanted him to have gone, but she really wasn't up to company or pity. She'd had enough of the latter to last a lifetime. And of people coming to visit because they felt obligated to.

He glanced up as she came into the room. “Hi, Eva. How are you feeling today?”

Eva was thrown by the genuine warmth in his smile and voice. “I'm fine.”

Matthew frowned behind his dark glasses and scarf. “Eva, did you know the average person tells four lies a day. That's 1,460 a year and a total of almost 88,000 before they reach sixty. And the most common of those is
I'm fine
.”

She looked at him, her stomach falling into her feet. “Oh.”

“And I'm not one of those people who expect an ‘I'm fine' because I can't cope with the truth of a headache, an upset stomach, or simply a ‘cheesed off because I'm having a rubbish day.' So, shall we start again? Good morning, Eva. How are you today?”

“Not great,” she said. “I seemed to have upset everyone yesterday, so I wasn't planning on getting up today. How are you?”

Matthew unwound his scarf and removed his shades. “I'm seriously thinking I should play the Phantom of the Opera rather than Captain Hook.”

Eva gasped. The rash was worse than the previous day. “Didn't they use the other makeup?” As she asked, she remembered Felicity saying they hadn't.

“I have no idea,” he said. “I leave that to them.” He frowned. “But have
you
looked in a mirror this morning?”

“Why would I want to?”

He put his scarf on top of his coat on the sofa and stood. He pushed her chair into the hall and parked her in front of the full-length mirror. “Look.”

She turned her face away.

“Eva…” Matthew hunkered down next to her. He put his fingers under her chin, forcing her head to face the mirror. “What do you see?”

“A girl in a chair,” she muttered.

“Want to know what I see?” he asked. “And I'll be brutally honest, because I know you're tired of everyone pitying you and talking over you.”

Eva looked at their reflections, not sure she wanted to know, but she
was
tired of the egg shells around her. It gave her no incentive to try. “Yeah, I am. Go on.”

“You're thin, way too thin. You have bags under your eyes from not sleeping, you look gaunt and haggard. Your hair needs styling. Did you blow dry it or is this natural? There is no shame in asking for help with things, you know, or accepting your mum's help to get dressed. Your voice carried somewhat. I wouldn't dare speak to Mum like that. She'd have my guts for garters if I did.”

Her face burned, and her stomach twisted. “Enough,” she managed, her voice a strangled moan.

Matthew lowered his voice. “I don't want to upset you, but you need to take back control of your life, starting with the little things. Just because you're stuck in the chair, it doesn't mean you can't do things for yourself. And it doesn't give you the right to be horrible to everyone, either. Don't let yourself go. And don't say you don't go out therefore you don't need to look nice. I'm a bloke, but even I take time to make sure my hair looks...combed. Even if all I then do all day is slouch on the sofa behind a good book.”

She nodded slowly.

“So turn around. I'm going to do something to your hair.”

“You can't. I mean, you're a famous actor, and I'm…”

“Someone who needs her hair tamed.” He looked at her. “Inside this famous person is a normal bloke, who has to wash dishes for his mother the same way you do.”

“My hair isn't long enough for anything, is it?” she asked, trying to ignore the image of him, shirt sleeves rolled, up to his elbows in soapy water filling her mind.

“Sure it is.” Matthew rose and went behind the chair. “Have you got a hair band?”

“Fi keeps some in the middle drawer of the sideboard.”

Eva didn't argue as Matthew pushed her into the lounge. He was trying to be nice. Her mind went over and over what he'd said, as he gently combed through her short hair. She'd forgotten just how good it felt to have someone else do her hair.

When she opened her eyes, his face was inches from hers.

“You're smiling.”

She smiled faintly. “If I were a cat I'd be purring about now.”

He grinned. “Don't give me ideas.”

“I wouldn't dare. Fi showed me the video clip of the whole Titanic meets Jolly Roger thing.”

Matthew laughed. “That went down so well that Tinkerbelle is planning on a queen of the fairies line this afty, just as a one off, not a regular thing.”

“Would you like some coffee? It's the least I can do.”

His eyes twinkled. “Coffee sounds wonderful. Let me get your coat.”

Eva's heart stopped. “My what?”

“Coat. And shoes. Are they in the hall?”

“No, in my room, but I don't need my coat.”