Santa's Secret (5 page)

Eva bit her lip, shocked at Isabel’s flat,
cynical words. The whole issue of when to tell a child the truth about Santa
was a tricky one, and not a dilemma she looked forward to. How old had she
herself been when she worked out who brought the presents? Nobody had told her
in so many words, but she seemed to remember figuring it out before she went to
high school. Seven seemed quite young, though.

Isabel skipped off to join Oscar, clearly
enjoying the act of bossing him about and making sure he didn’t touch anything
he shouldn’t.

Eva looked up at Rudi. “Who told her about
Santa?”

He shrugged. “She came home from school one
day earlier this year and said an older boy had told her Santa didn’t exist.”

“I see,” Eva murmured. “And you agreed?”

“I didn’t disagree.” He studied her. “You
think I should have said he was wrong.”

Eva hesitated, not wanting to presume to
tell him how he should bring up his child. “She does seem very young to have
lost that belief already.”

“I worried that if she went back to school
and insisted the boy was mistaken, others would have laughed at her.”

“I suppose.” Eva picked up a hand-made
scarf and inspected the pretty pattern. Privately, she thought he could have
tried to prolong the magic of Christmas a little longer. But equally she hadn’t
been in that position. Rudi was obviously cynical about Christmas, and that was
mainly why he hadn’t made an effort to suspend the girl’s disbelief. But it
wasn’t as if he himself had told her the truth. Ultimately, if a child asked if
Santa was real, to say no was lying, and that didn’t seem right either.

She sighed. “The decision of when to take
away that innocence is not a nice one. I’m torn in two, to be honest. Part of
me wants Oscar to still be sleeping with his Pooh Bear when he’s thirty, to
never leave home, to always call me mummy and to always need me to button up
his coat and tell him to clean his teeth. But of course you can’t have that
when he’s fifteen, let alone when he’s thirty. At some point I’m going to have
to give him more independence. When he goes to school, for example, he’ll have
to learn to get dressed and cope on his own. And that’s good, that’s the way it
should be. It’s natural to want to hang onto their innocence, but it’s natural
too, to want them not to be left behind while their friends are growing up.”

She finished slightly breathless, not quite
sure why she wanted to express herself so much, or why it mattered that he
understood.

Rudi nodded. “I do agree with you. I have
had arguments with Vanessa about Isabel using makeup and wearing clothing
unsuitable for her age. I do not want her to grow up too quick, and I admit
part of me regrets not denying what that boy told her, but equally those who
are not prepared for the harsh realities of life can be easily hurt, and I want
to prepare her if I can.”

“I understand,” Eva said.

She met Rudi’s gaze and gave him a
sympathetic smile, and he smiled back. It was a harsh world, she thought. It
would be natural to want to protect your offspring from similar pain when he
had obviously been hurt in the past.

The kids ran up, bored with the exhibition
and wanting to move onto something else. Rudi held Isabel’s hand and said to
Eva, “We were thinking of going to Santa’s Playground. I’m sure you’re probably
busy and there’s no pressure at all, but I wondered… Would you like to come
with us?”

Eva’s heart swelled and she couldn’t stop
an inhalation of delight, which must have blossomed in her eyes because she saw
an answering gleam of pleasure in his as he obviously recognised her answer.

But she was proud of herself for not
jumping and down and squealing like her three-year-old, and instead managed a
small measure of decorum as she said, “Well, that would be lovely, wouldn’t it,
Oscar?” containing her excitement to a beaming smile as they made their way
from the Centre.

They walked the short distance through the
village to the park, chatting about the displays in the Centre and this and
that while the kids ran ahead and threw snowballs at each other. As she walked,
however, Eva began to worry about what she was doing. Why had she agreed to go with
him? All of a sudden, she felt uneasy and a bit nervous about what he was
expecting.

People would think they were a couple,
wouldn’t they, if they walked around together? Oscar even looked like Rudi’s
son, she thought, with his blond curls.

And then that made her feel terrible, as if
she were somehow cheating on Damon, and she shuddered at the thought of what
Bridget would think if she should find out. What would she say when her
mother-in-law rang? She’d always been terrible at lying and she knew she’d just
blurt it out as soon as Bridget said, “What have you been up to today?”
I
paired up with this single dad and totally didn’t think about Damon all day.
The
words would tumble out without any effort like marbles rolling out of a bag.

But as they walked into the park, paid at
the gate and entered the snowy vista, Eva looked around and realised she was
completely overreacting. The whole place was full of people, of kids tearing
around with faces lit with excitement, and of adults gathering together to sip
hot drinks and chat. Men and women mingled in couples and single sex gatherings
and large groups. Nobody was going to take a blind bit of notice of the two of
them. She’d made a friend, that was all, and anything else was her guilty
conscience making too much of it.

They ended up spending the whole afternoon
in the park. Oscar didn’t sit still once; even when they ate lunch, he
repeatedly got up to do a little jig at the side of the table, making Isabel
giggle at how naughty he was before she ordered him back into his seat. Eva
spent the first half an hour trying to stop him pestering the young girl, but
then realised Isabel actually seemed to like it. By taking charge of Oscar and
directing him to various rides, she was able to enjoy herself without feeling
childish. So in the end, Eva let Isabel hold his hand, and she and Rudi just
trailed along behind, enjoying their enthusiasm.

“He’ll sleep well tonight.” She smiled,
watching Oscar gripping hold of the bar in front of him as he and Isabel
trundled around the North Pole ride for the umpteenth time on a little
carriage.

“Izzy too—which is good. Perhaps she will
not have bad dreams tonight,” Rudi said.

Eva turned in the chair to look at him.
They sat at one of the many tables under the cover of a large canopy that kept
off most of the snow, with a tall heater supplying some warmth, and hands
around steaming cups of hot chocolate. The refreshment station was situated
right in the centre of the small park, easily visible from all areas and
staffed by lots of elves, so parents could take some time to sit and chat while
the kids enjoyed themselves, and as usual, if the kids were happy and
entertained, most of the parents were happy.

Rudi looked sad, she thought, noting his
wistful gaze as he watched his daughter. Of course she hadn’t known him for
very long, but after spending most of the day with him, she was starting to be
able to pick up on his moods, and he definitely seemed sad now.

“Does she often have bad dreams?” she
asked.

He let out a long slow sigh. “Not every
night, but more than she should.”

“What about?”

“Giant spiders chasing her, that sort of
thing. I am sure Freud would say I am the spider.” He gave her a rueful smile.

She rested a hand on his arm. “I’ve seen
the way Izzy looks at you. She adores you—I am certain she doesn’t see you as
any kind of monster. If anything, it is probably the situation that troubles
her. Divorce is unsettling for most children, especially if it is not
amicable.” She didn’t like to push, but from his veiled references she’d
thought that was probably the case.

He nodded. “Before we split, Vanessa and I
did argue a lot. I thought in many ways it would be a relief for Izzy when
Vanessa finally left—I mean obviously she would miss her mother, but I thought
the release of tension would be good for her. But she became very withdrawn and
quiet—she does not confide in me, and I cannot help but think she is angry with
me for not working harder to keep her mother with us, you know?”

“Maybe. She is still very young to
understand that sometimes marriages don’t work out. That it’s not always a case
of not loving the other person enough. That sometimes you just want different
things.” She watched Oscar jump out of the carriage as the bar lifted and
scurry along to the next ride, Isabel trailing behind him happily.

“Is that what happened to you?” Rudi asked.

She turned back to look at him, taken aback
by the question. They had talked all day, but hadn’t really broached anything
really intimate.

“I am sorry,” he continued. “I did not mean
to pry. It is not my place…”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

“It is just that after what you said
yesterday, I think that maybe the same thing happened to you?”

She sighed and looked down at her boots,
scuffing them in the snow. “It was a bit of a whirlwind romance. I’d only been
in the UK three months when I met Damon through a mutual friend. We had a great
time—a large circle of friends, lots of parties. And then I found out I was
pregnant.” Her cheeks grew warm—it was an embarrassing admission to make in
this day and age when it was so easy to prevent. But she’d had to stop taking
the pill because it had given her migraines, and it had only taken one slip up
on a night of impulsive lovemaking after a party for her to fall. “It was one
stupid mistake. I panicked, but Damon asked me to marry him, and I was so
relieved I wasn’t going to have to return to New Zealand and tell my father I
was going to be a single mother that I didn’t really think about the decision
at all.”

“That was very good of your husband, to do
the honourable thing,” Rudi said.

“Yes, it was. I suppose. But even before Oscar
arrived, I began to realise we weren’t really compatible. I enjoy some parties
and socialising, but I also love my quiet time—I do lots of crafts, lots of
knitting and embroidery and reading, and I love movies. Damon was like Oscar—he
could never sit still for longer than five minutes, and he hated staying in. As
the pregnancy wore on and I grew more tired, I told him to go out without me,
and after Oscar was born that just seemed to carry on. By the time he died, we
were hardly spending any time together at all.”

Rudi’s face showed his sympathy. “How did
he die, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“A car accident. He’d been drinking.” The
usual shame flooded her. “I don’t like telling people that; it feels like I’m
speaking ill of the dead, you know? And it upsets his mother terribly. But it’s
the truth. He’d been to a party, and although I always made him promise he’d
get a lift home, he thought he was under the limit and in control. He wasn’t.
And I’m mad at him because of that.” She fell silent as the anger that
continued to simmer deep inside her boiled up temporarily. Truth to tell, she
hated Damon for being so stupid and killing himself and leaving her alone.

And a little bit of her hated him for
asking her to marry him, because she’d felt as if she’d had to, to please her
father. If Damon had refused to acknowledge the baby, it would have been hard,
but at least she wouldn’t have had to go through a marriage that turned out to
be a sham.

And then she felt terrible, because he’d
tried to do the right thing, and it wasn’t really his fault that they weren’t
soul mates, was it?

They sat quietly for a while, watching the
snow. It had stopped for a while, but now it began again, thick white flakes
floating around them and settling on the hats and shoulders of the children as
they ran around. Although the sun hadn’t risen, the sky had lightened for a
while, but now it was settling back into its gathering gloom.

“I should get Oscar home,” she said,
watching him sit down at a table for the first time in hours and rest his head
on his arms. “I’ll try to get some tea down him, but I would think he’ll be
asleep before six.”

Rudi agreed, and they rose and collected
the children and began to walk home. Oscar protested briefly, but when she
promised him beans on toast in front of the fire while watching his favourite
DVD, he soon capitulated and skipped along quietly.

“Thank you for a lovely day,” she said to
Rudi as they neared the cabins. “It’s been much better having someone to share
it with.”

“Yes, it has.” He slowed to a halt, and
they watched the kids walk up to inspect the model of a reindeer that stood out
the front with the cabin numbers, both of the children too tired to throw
snowballs.

Eva shoved her gloved hands in her pockets
and looked up at Rudi. He seemed all height and breadth, his thick dark
overcoat emphasising his size. He was so lovely, gentle and kind, with an
understated sexiness she really liked. He smelled nice, his aftershave stirring
her senses, and even though he’d been nothing but gentlemanly, there was
something in the way he looked at her that lit a fuse right at the base of her
spine to send tingles all the way to the nape of her neck.