Once Upon a Christmas (27 page)

Hilda looked at her. ‘What flat?’

‘The flat I’m taking you to see.’ Helen bit her lip nervously. ‘Please, don’t make a judgement until you’ve seen
it. Oliver thinks you won’t want to leave the home you lived in with Barry all your life, but I think that home is full of memories for you. Some good, some too painful to live with on a daily basis. I wondered whether you might want to think about a fresh start. Make some new memories somewhere else. And this is a pretty good place to do it. Will you at least look at it?’

There was a long silence while Hilda stared out of the window and then she stirred herself. ‘Of course I’ll look at it.’

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Helen switched off the engine.

The warden was waiting for them and Hilda gave a huge smile. ‘Well, it’s Cathy Janson. How are you, my dear?’

‘Brilliant.’ Cathy gave the older woman a hug and jangled some keys. ‘I didn’t realise that it was you who was interested in the flat. It would be fantastic having you living here.’

Helen glanced from one to the other. ‘Obviously you know each other.’

‘I was the headmistress of the local primary school,’ Hilda told her with a wistful smile. ‘I taught Cathy. It was a long time ago. She always wore her hair in pigtails then.’

Cathy smiled. ‘Come and see the flat.’

She unlocked the door for them and Hilda went first, walking straight to the huge picture window that overlooked the lake. Several boats were moored at a tiny jetty and even though it was bitterly cold, people were strolling along the path that weaved its way along the side of the lake. Behind the lake the mountains rose, filling the background.

‘What an amazing view.’ Finally Hilda moved, glancing around her with obvious approval. ‘And what a lovely warm room. There are times when I think I’m going to freeze to death in my cottage at the moment. The wind seems to howl through every crack. Show me the rest.’

By the time they’d looked around and sat in the living room while Hilda stared at the view, an hour had passed.

Cathy stood up. ‘I’m going to have to leave you because I’m picking my Nicky up from school. Just post the keys back through my letter-box when you’ve finished.’ She put a hand on Hilda’s shoulder. ‘I was so sorry to hear about Barry.’

Hilda let out a breath. ‘Life sends us trials and we have to face them. For a while I didn’t think I could. But now I think this might be the answer. Change. Something new.’

Cathy and Helen exchanged looks and Cathy made for the door. ‘I’ll be hearing from you, then.’

The door closed behind her and Hilda stirred. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘For daring to suggest what no one else would. The home that I’ve lived in all my life just doesn’t feel like home now that Barry isn’t in it with me. If I move here, I can walk the short distance to town, I can chat to Cathy and help pick her daughter up from school. And when it’s too cold to go out I can still watch life from this amazing window.’

Helen smiled, a huge feeling of relief washing over her. ‘So you want it?’

‘Definitely. How hard will it be to arrange everything?’

‘Well, you’ll need to sell your house.’

‘That will be easy enough. The couple next door have been dying to buy it for years. They want to knock the two cottages into one big house. I’ll talk to them when I get home. And I’ll call Cathy. My son can help me with the details.’

A week later, Hilda had made an offer on the flat and instructed her solicitor to sell her cottage to the couple next door.

On Friday evening Oliver cooked Helen dinner and they cracked open a bottle of wine.

‘In three weeks you seem to have sorted out the whole community.’ Oliver raised his glass, an odd smile playing around his firm mouth. ‘I couldn’t believe that Anna actually came back to see you.’

‘Twice, actually. In each case complete with diary and peak-flow readings,’ Helen said happily, recalling her discussion with the teenager. ‘And, more importantly, she’s got a date tomorrow.’

‘A date?’ Oliver blinked. ‘How do you know about her love life?’

‘Because her love life is actually an important key to her asthma management,’ Helen said simply. ‘She didn’t want the boy to know she was asthmatic. Anyway, she told him yesterday and it turns out that his sister is asthmatic so suddenly everything is rosy. She’s going clubbing with him and she even brought her outfit to show me and we found a great place to tuck her inhaler.’

Oliver shook his head. ‘You amaze me.’ His eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘Although I have to confess that someone
did warn me that you are the local expert on sexual positions.’

Helen blushed but she held his gaze. ‘My conversations with my patients are confidential.’

‘They should be,’ Oliver agreed dryly, topping up her wine, ‘but I have to warn you that it often doesn’t stay that way in a small community. According to Howard Marks, you’re a cross between Florence Nightingale and—’

‘I don’t think I want to hear the rest,’ Helen interrupted him hastily, her cheeks still pink. ‘I just gave him some advice. He didn’t want to talk to you because he’s known you since you were in nappies. But clearly he didn’t mind talking about it afterwards.’

Oliver grinned. ‘Man talk. You know how it is.’

Helen rolled her eyes. ‘Spare me.’

Oliver’s smile faded. ‘And thank you for what you’ve done for Hilda. You wouldn’t believe how many sleepless nights I’ve had over her. I’ve known her all my life and it just didn’t occur to me that she’d want to move. What made you think of it?’

Helen pushed a piece of salmon around her plate. ‘The way I feel about moving here, I suppose. When a place is full of memories, it’s good to leave it.’

Oliver’s blue eyes searched hers. ‘So does that mean that you’re throwing away your stilettos and staying here?’

In another week Bryony would be back from her honeymoon and Oliver’s practice nurse would be back from Australia.

‘I don’t know.’ Helen pulled a face. ‘I don’t even want to think about it, to be honest. I love it here so much.’ She poked her salmon with her fork. ‘This is starting to feel
like home. I like the people. I like the way their priorities are different.’

‘So stay.’

She sighed. ‘It isn’t that simple, is it?’

‘Why not?’

She poked her salmon again. ‘Because it feels like running away.’ She pulled a face. ‘I mean, I know that’s exactly what I’ve done, but sooner or later I have to go home and face the music.’

‘Why? Life can be enough of an endurance test without making it worse.’ Oliver frowned. ‘And what has that salmon ever done to you? You’ve chopped it into pieces.’

Helen put down her fork and stared at the food on her plate. ‘I’m not that hungry.’ She looked at him. ‘It’s funny really. I always had a very clear vision of the way my life would be …’

‘And how was that?’ Oliver lounged back in his chair and she gave a slight shrug.

‘Big house, lots of entertaining, children …’

Oliver gave a twisted smile. ‘The corporate wife.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘And was that your vision or your parents’?’

Helen looked at him, startled. It was a question she’d never asked herself before. ‘I suppose I was brought up to think that my life would be like my mother’s.’

‘So who made the decision to marry David?’ Oliver asked evenly. ‘You or your parents?’

Helen frowned. ‘Me, of course.’

Oliver’s expression didn’t flicker. ‘How did you meet him?’

‘He worked for my dad.’

Oliver gave a wry smile. ‘And he was deemed a suitable partner for the boss’s daughter?’

Helen flushed. ‘Something like that. But I liked David.’

‘But you don’t marry someone because you like them,’ Oliver said softly, leaning forward and trapping her eyes with his. ‘You marry them because you love them. Did you love him, Helen?’

There was a long silence and she was suddenly aware of the steady beat of her heart and the heat in his eyes.

‘I don’t know.’ She swallowed hard. ‘A week ago I would have answered definitely yes, of course I would. If I hadn’t loved him, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him.’

‘Wouldn’t you?’ Oliver’s gaze was steady on hers. ‘You’re a sweet girl, Helen. It strikes me that you spend a lot of time doing things for other people. Who were you marrying David for? You or your parents?’

She shook her head. Suddenly the only things she could think about were his unbelievably thick, dark lashes and the lazy, sexy look in his eyes.

‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was barely a whisper and he gave a soft curse and pushed his chair away from the table.

‘Oliver?’

He strode around to her side and dragged her to her feet, his mouth descending on hers with a fierce passion that took her by surprise.

She melted instantly, loving the feel of his hard body against hers, this time without the frustrating barrier of outdoor clothing.

As kisses went, this one was crazy, a desperate, driven explosion of sexual chemistry that was stronger than both of them.

‘You’re driving me nuts,’ Oliver groaned against her mouth, one strong hand sliding into the softness of her hair, anchoring her head for his kiss. The other arm dragged her closer still, trapping her against the hardness of his arousal. ‘Living and working with you is driving me nuts.’

She gasped and pressed closer still and he slid her uniform up her thighs and lifted her in an easy movement, his mouth still on hers as he sat her on the table. Then he slid both hands over her bottom and tugged her close so that her legs were wrapped around him.

He gave a moan of pure masculine appreciation and reluctantly dragged his mouth away from hers, but only so that he could kiss his way down her neck.

‘Have I ever told you that you have fabulous legs?’ His voice was husky with passion and his strong hands slid purposefully up her thighs, caressing the smooth skin with deliberate strokes, ‘because you have totally, amazing legs—I love your legs.’

‘Oliver …’

His mouth smothered her broken plea for satisfaction and she felt the burning heat of his body against hers, felt the warm seduction of his lips and tongue, the skilled touch of his hands. With a moan of frustration she tugged his shirt out of his trousers and her hands slid underneath, exploring warm, male flesh and hard muscle. He had an incredible physique. Suddenly she wanted to feel all of him and she didn’t resist when she felt his fingers impatiently freeing the buttons on her dress.

When his fingers slid beneath her flimsy bra and claimed a nipple she gave a tortured gasp and arched against him, feeling the insistent throb of his arousal pressed hard
against her, and when he bent his head and replaced his fingers with his mouth she sobbed with a mixture of pleasure and arousal.

Bells rang in her head, loud and insistent, and it was only when Oliver lifted his head with a reluctant groan that she realised that it was the phone.

His breath fractured and his eyes slightly dazed, Oliver slowly released her. ‘I’ve got to answer that,’ he said hoarsely, pulling the edges of her dress together with visible reluctance. ‘I’m on call.’

Unable to move or think clearly, Helen waited until he’d eased away from her and then tugged her uniform down her thighs, her face scarlet as she reviewed her own behaviour.

What had she been thinking of?

She’d been all set to marry David and yet here she was, only a month later, virtually making love with a man on his kitchen table. And the power of her own response to Oliver shocked her. Never before had she experienced one tenth of the urgency, the need, the
desperation
that she’d experienced with Oliver.

If the phone hadn’t rung …

Utterly shocked and confused, Helen fastened her buttons quickly, wondering what had happened to her.

Until tonight she’d never thought of herself as a particularly sexual person. In all her years with David, she’d never felt an overwhelming need for sex. They’d kissed, of course, and made love, but it had always been a very dignified experience, whereas she and Oliver …

They’d virtually ripped each other’s clothes off.

Oliver was talking on the phone, asking pointed questions
and scribbling a few notes on a pad. When he finally replaced the phone he seemed to have recovered some of his composure. But he kept his eyes on the notepad.

‘That was one of my pregnant mums. Lily Henderson.’ His voice still sounded gruff and he cleared his throat and ran a hand over the back of his neck as he studied his notes.

Perhaps he wasn’t so composed after all.

‘She’s having severe pains but she doesn’t think she’s in labour.’

Helen made a valiant attempt at normal conversation. ‘Shouldn’t she go straight to hospital?’

‘Yes, but she had a hideous time with her first one—born down south somewhere—and she’s determined to have this one at home.’

‘Oh, dear.’

‘She only moved to the area a month ago and I haven’t managed to persuade her to meet Tom, which was what I had in mind.’ Oliver drew in a breath, cursed softly and finally looked at her, his gaze acknowledging what had happened between them. ‘I’ve never had trouble concentrating on my job before.’

Her own breathing was suddenly shallow as she connected with those intense blue eyes. ‘So are you going to do a visit?’

Her voice sounded disconnected from the rest of her body. As if somehow it were trying to distance itself from the confusing spiral of emotions that were inside her.

‘Yes. I’ll take a look at her and try and persuade her to go in. But I was talking about us.’ His eyes held hers. ‘Or are you going to pretend that that kiss didn’t happen?’

She swallowed hard. If only it were that easy.

‘Oliver—’

‘Because it’s probably only fair to warn you that I’m not going to let you.’ His voice was soft but grimly determined. He ripped the piece of paper from the pad and tucked it into his pocket. ‘I know you think that you’re on the rebound but I’m not going to let you dismiss this thing between us just because we’ve only known each other for two weeks. What we have is too special. When we get back from seeing Lily, we’re going to talk about this.’