Santa's Secret (13 page)

Forty-five minutes later, they sat at a
table in the family restaurant, eating dinner and looking—Eva thought—as if
they were a perfectly ordinary family of four. Isabel cut up her meat and
potatoes carefully, and Eva was amused to see Oscar try to copy her, cutting
carefully with his knife and fork whereas usually he refused to use cutlery and
insisted on eating with his fingers.

“It is funny,” Rudi said as Eva picked at
her risotto, “I do not even know what job you do. Do you work?”

She ate a mouthful of the rice, a little
conscious of doing so after his comment to her about watching her eat, and
nodded. “I work in a small shop—it sells gifts, handmade jewellery, that sort
of thing. I make crafts to sell in it, too. It does really well in summer as
it’s next to a popular café, but it tends to be a bit quiet in winter.”

“That sounds rewarding. Do you enjoy it?”

“Well, I certainly don’t do it for the money.”
Without the insurance money she’d gotten from Damon’s policy, she wouldn’t have
been able to support herself and Oscar. “Anyway, enough about me. How about
you? I guess you’re mega-rich with all that jet-setting and flashy functions
you go to.”

“I do okay,” he said, lips curving.

He did more than okay—his watch probably
cost more than all the items in her jewellery box together, and his
clothing—even though she’d only seen him in sweaters and jeans—was well-cut and
classy. He was probably enjoying being out of the standard business outfit, she
thought. The thought of him in a three-piece-suit with tie and cufflinks made
her feel slightly faint.

He caught her staring at him and paused
with his fork halfway to his mouth. Taking the piece of steak and chewing it
thoughtfully, he lowered the fork back to his plate while studying her. “What?
Your eyes are like…” He drew a big circle with his finger in the air. “What are
they called? Saucers.”

“I was thinking about you in a suit.”

He swallowed and passed a thumb across his
bottom lip to remove a dob of the pepper sauce, looking highly amused. “I see.
And are you enjoying your fantasy?”

She glanced at Isabel, sitting diagonally
across from her, but the girl was busy showing Oscar how to hold the food with
his fork while he sawed at it with his knife. Eva’s gaze came back to Rudi’s.
“A little bit. It’s like my own fashion show inside my head.”

 He cut another piece of steak and ate it
thoughtfully. “Hmm, I see what you mean. It is fun to imagine a particular lady
I know modelling the latest designer bikinis.”

Eva giggled and went to say something, but
caught Isabel’s fleeting look at her out of the corner of her eye. The girl
lowered her gaze back to her dinner and continued to eat without saying a word,
but Eva was sure she hadn’t missed the look.
She knows.

She ate her risotto, told Oscar to sit back
down and finish his sausages, pretended not to notice when he almost sawed his
finger in half, and generally tried not to flirt with Rudi for the remainder of
the meal.

He must have picked up on it, she thought,
as the kids finished their ice cream. Would he question her about it once the
kids went off to the play area?

But just as Oscar declared he’d had enough,
and she’d wiped the chocolate sauce from his chin and helped him down from the
table, her phone rang in her pocket.

Rudi muttered something in Finnish.

“Sorry?” she said, pulling out the phone.

“Curse of the modern age,” he said, but he
didn’t elaborate, leaning back instead and waving for the waiter. “Coffee?”

She shook her head and unfolded the phone.
Sighed when she saw the name. Pressed the button and held it up to her ear.
“Hi, Bridge.”

“Hello, love. Thought I’d check in before
you go to bed. How are you?”

Eva reminded herself that there were single
mums out there who would kill for a mother-in-law like Bridget, who was always
there when needed, happy to drop whatever she was doing to pick Eva up or take
her somewhere, and who loved babysitting, even though Eva tried not to rely on
her. “We’re fine.” She made her voice breezy. “Having some dinner.”

“Oh, in that lovely restaurant you told me
about?”

“Yes. Oscar’s just finished and he’s dashed
off to the play area.”

“Oh, lovely, nice to know he’s having a
good time. Has he made any friends?”

Lie,
Eva
thought, conscious of Rudi listening while trying not to look as if he was
listening. He’d picked up the menu and was examining it studiously, although he
could obviously hear every word she said. But she’d never been able to lie
convincingly, and always ended up forgetting what she’d said and tying herself
in knots. It was better to tell the truth, even if it wasn’t the
whole
truth.

“Yes, he’s playing with a girl called
Isabel.”

“Oh, nice! Is that who was in the photo you
sent to me?

“Yes, that’s right.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s seven, but she’s very good with him,
and she’s actually teaching him some manners for once.” Eva smiled ruefully as
Rudi stifled a chuckle.

“And what about you, are you chatting to
Isabel’s mum?”

Rudi looked up at that moment, meeting her
gaze, as if he’d known where the conversation was heading. Eva’s cheeks warmed,
and she blinked several times before giving him a brief smile of apology and
standing to walk over to the windows. It was still snowing, she noticed
absently. Maybe it would snow so hard they wouldn’t be able to leave the
village for another month.

“I’m spending a bit of time with Isabel’s
father,” she said. “He’s Finnish. His name’s Rudi.”

“Oh…” Bridget’s voice was soft. “That’s
nice.”

“It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just that
it’s nice to talk to other parents,” Eva waffled, hating herself for feeling
like she had to make excuses.

“It’s okay,” Bridget said.

“You were right,” Eva continued, “Christmas
is for families, and it is a bit lonely being on my own. I should have listened
to you.”

“Eva,” Bridget said, “it’s okay. You don’t
have to explain yourself to me.”

Emotion rushed over Eva, fierce and
overwhelming as if she stood under a waterfall, strong as the moment when she’d
opened the front door and seen the police woman standing there with her face
filled with pity.

She pressed her fingers to her lips and
closed her eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Bridget said, “I’m not
stupid. You’re a good girl, and you were a good wife. Damon loved you—I know
that—he wouldn’t have asked just anyone to marry him, you know. The pregnancy
was justification, not an excuse.”

A tear rolled down Eva’s cheek. She wiped
it away, hoping Rudi wasn’t watching her, knowing he was. “Bridge…”

“But you’re young. Oscar’s young. I don’t
expect you to be alone forever, and neither does anyone else.”

Eva bit her lip, trying to claw back the
emotion that threatened to burst from her. “I did love Damon.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you or Paul to think I
didn’t.”

“We both know. Don’t worry about us. I have
Josh and Pippa here, and all the kids. We’re absolutely fine. I want you to go
and enjoy yourself. Is he nice, this Rudi?”

“Yes.” The word was little more than a
whisper.

“Then go and have fun.”

“It’s nothing, Bridge, I’m leaving in two
days, it’s not like it means anything…”

“It doesn’t matter. Not everything has to
mean wedding rings and forever. Live in the moment, darling. Enjoy it while you
can.”

Bridget chatted for another minute or so,
then ended the call. Eva slid the phone back into her pocket, but didn’t turn
around immediately. She felt as if the world had shifted under her feet,
disorienting her. She hadn’t expected Bridget’s kind words, her understanding,
or her blessing. And instead of it being reassuring and comforting, Eva found
it unsettling. The guilt that always lay beneath her emotions like those ugly
fish with big eyes and teeth at the bottom of the ocean rose to the surface.
Her chest ached, and she pressed a hand between her breasts.

Why did she have to go through this? Losing
a husband so young, being a single mum. It was so unfair. She was a good
person, wasn’t she? She didn’t deserve this unhappiness.

She felt a presence behind her, a warmth at
her back. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

He didn’t touch her though. Just said
quietly, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“I think Oscar’s ready to go.”

“I need to pay my half of the bill,” she
said with a sniff.

“I’ve paid it. You can owe me.” He put a
hand under her elbow, guiding her back to the table.

She tried to resent his touch, to tell him
that he mustn’t act as if he had any say in her life because it was
impossible—it just wasn’t meant to be, but the words wouldn’t come, and she
suddenly realised how tired she was. Physically and emotionally exhausted with
the day.

Oscar looked as shattered as she felt,
sitting at the table, head resting on his arms. She stuffed him into his coat,
and then they headed out of the door.

He was so tired that he only made it
halfway back to the cabin before he stumbled, fell hard onto his knees and
burst into tears. Eva felt like crying with him, conscious of Rudi by her side,
Isabel quiet as if she knew something was awry.

Rudi bent and beckoned to the boy, though,
and Oscar held his arms out unquestioningly, letting himself be picked up. Rudi
glanced up quickly at Eva. “Okay?”

She nodded, touched and too emotional to
argue, so he stood with the boy in his arms and carried him back the short
distance to the cabins.

He opened the door for Isabel, then
followed Eva across to hers and carried Oscar inside, placing him on the bed.

“Thanks,” she said, unbuttoning her coat
and dropping it onto the nearby chair.

“You are welcome.” Rudi hesitated. “Will
you be okay?”

She forced a smile onto her face. “Yes,
thanks. I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t think with him nearby. Memories of his lips
on hers, his hot chest sticking to her breasts, refused to leave her mind, and
she needed to be free of him, just for a while.

He nodded. “Sleep well. I will see you
tomorrow.”

She watched him go.

Immediately after he closed the door, she
missed him.

Sighing, she walked over to Oscar, pulled
off his boots, bullied him into taking off his coat and brushing his teeth,
then got him into bed.

By six thirty, he was asleep.

She stood by the side of the bed, watching
his chest rise and fall, his eyelids flutter with a dream. Then she walked over
to the window to look out at the forest. The half-twilight had sunk to full
darkness, the sky black with clouds, snow still falling, now a foot high
against the door. The lanterns cast golden baubles of light across the white
carpet, while shadows lent the night an eerie feel, so different to the beauty
she’d felt earlier in the day, in bed with Rudi. She crossed her arms and
hugged herself protectively, drew the curtains and sat on the sofa.

She tried to watch some TV, saw half a
movie, then turned it off and lay there, looking at the ceiling. Tiredness
pulled her eyelids to half-mast, and she supposed she should get ready for bed,
but she couldn’t summon the energy.

Unbidden, Bridget’s words crept into her
mind.
I don’t expect you to be alone forever, and neither does anyone else…
Live in the moment, darling. Enjoy it while you can.

What else had she said?
Not everything
has to mean wedding rings and forever
.

Eva’s bottom lip trembled, and a tear slid
down her cheek.

Wiping it away, she got up, walked over to
the adjoining door to Rudi’s cabin and rested her forehead on it. She ached to
have his arms around her. Was it actually him she wanted? Or just the safety
and security he offered, the affection, the love, however fleeting? She hardly
knew him, after all.

And yet deep down, she knew it wasn’t just
that he was convenient. Something had conspired to bring the two of them
together. One different decision—another page of a travel brochure, a change of
heart—and they would never have met. And yet here they were, and there was
something blooming inside her, so unexpected and out of place, like a flower in
the snow.

Behind the door, something rattled.

She lifted her head, startled, and looked
up at the bolt. It was still in place—of course, it must have been the one on
the other side of the door.

Hand shaking, she took hold of the bolt and
drew it back. Then turned the handle.

Rudi stood there, hands in the pockets of
his jeans, hair ruffled as if he’d spent the past hour raking his hands through
it.