Three Days Before Christmas The clouds, low, dull and grey, match my mood, and I stare out of the passenger window, not wanting to show my disappointment. Sleet spikes down, spitting onto the windscreen and the wipers squeak, leaving white streaks as they arc across the glass.
Ryan, from the driverâs seat, lays a hand on my thigh. âCheer up. Thereâll be others.â
âI knowâ¦â My throat is unreasonably tight. âIt just looked so good in the ad. Iâd thought maybeâ¦â
He cuts in, but the cheerful tone to his voice sounds forced. âVendors are always going to overegg the cake. It did say, Needs Renovation.â
I huff. âNeeds complete demolition and rebuilding would have been nearer the mark.â Then, at his answering silence, I realise how waspish I must have just sounded. âSorry, I didnât mean it to come out like that. It wasnât aimed at you.â
He squeezes my knee. âI know. Hey, tell you what. Weâre not far away. Letâs go say Hi to the happy family. You can deliver your balloon and your card and whatever else it is you have stashed in the back.
Theyâll dose you with wine and mince pies and weâll all get into the Christmas spirit.â
I hesitate.
Do they really want my gloomy mood there? Right now?
âIâd like that, but...â
Ryan persists. âWeâll be looking at properties again in the New Year. Who knows what weâll find then?
Thereâll be something.â
I paint on a smile, conscious that itâs a bit watery, but also that Ryan is doing his bestâ¦
I love youâ¦
âYouâre right, it would be nice to see them. Charlotte will want to show off her new baby.â
âOf course she will.â My thigh gets another squeeze. âAnd sheâll want to see you, Iâm sure.â
He releases my leg to steer; towards a turn-off that will take us to the home of James, Michael and Charlotte. As he drives, he casts around, craning upwards through the windscreen. âLooks like itâs going to be a proper white Christmas.â
âUp the mountain near their house, yes, I should think so.â Even here on the low ground the road is sheened white and black. âYou sure that driving will be safe?â
âIf it isnât, Iâll turn around, but the salt truck should have done its work up there by now.â
Ryan drives carefully, taking the corners slowly on the zig-zag mountain road. When we left the City this morning, it was already cold, with the tang of frost in the air. Now, ascending all the time, the temperature is falling despite the lowering clouds.
The air is frigid, and frozen mist hangs low over the fields. At ground level, the grass and shrubs are thick with rime. But it is stunningly beautiful. Frost picks out individual twigs and stalks, like some spectacular cake icing, and as we climb, grows denser and whiter.
After a while Ryan says, âWhat have they called her? The baby. Dâyou know?â
âIt was going to be just Cara. But when I rang and asked Beth, she said that at the last minute, Charlotte changed it to âCara Deannaâ, to name her after her grandmother⦠Her fatherâs mother that is.â
Ryan lets out air. âThat sounds like one family reconciliation thatâs really coming together.â
We turn the final corner and Michaelâs spa hotel swings into view: Life and Beauty.
Ryan guides the wheels carefully over the iced road surface, curving slowly in through the gates and past a parking lot occupied by top-end models. âItâs looking good,â he comments.
âIt is indeed. Michaelâs making a real success of it. Mind you, I think he had a head-start with being able to call on Beth Haswellâs rich buddies to get it kicked off.â
Ryan flashes brows. âWhat it is to be friends with the City High and Mighty.â He drives past the hotel and to the rear, pulling up to the side of another vehicle parked in front of the Threesomeâs home. âIsnât that the Haswellsâ car?â
âYes, it is. I think Richard and Beth are here more or less permanently now. Michael said that Beth and Charlotte keep each other company and Richardâs happier that way because it keeps Beth calm. After she almost lost their baby, heâs keeping her where sheâs among friends.â
Ryan sniffs. âDonât blame him. But sheâs okay now?â
âAs far as I know, yes.â
He gets out, stamping at the ground as he walks around the car, then opens my door. Iâm still not used to this; being with a man who specialises in old-fashioned courtesy, but itâs nice to accept his hand as he helps me up and out.
Opening up the trunk, âWhoops!â He snatches at the air, snagging the string of the silvery heli-balloon as it rises out of the trunk, aiming for the moon. âDonât forget this.â He passes me our brightly wrapped Congratulations! Itâs A Girl! bag.
As he clicks the back of the car closed, âBy the wayâ¦â he says, â⦠Before I put my foot in it, do we know who the father actually is? Or whether it matters?â
I suck air through my teeth, considering what I know. âCharlotte was never really very forthcoming about that. I think it's James. And it was James attending the clinic with her while she was pregnant.
But I'm not a hundred per cent sure.â I shrug. âI really donât think it matters. If it did, I am sure one of them would have said something. As it is, they have it set up between themselves and everyone seems quite happy.â
Ryan nods then shivers, wrapping arms around himself. âHope theyâve got a good fire going inside.â
Stepping carefully to avoid the iced edges of puddles, at the door I manoeuvre my knuckles under the prickly leaves of a holly wreath to reach the brass knocker underneath.
After a few moments, the door opens to the blond, blue-eyed Michael. âKirstie! Ryan! Great to see you.â
He steps back, holding the door wide, aiming an arm inward. âCome on in before you freeze.â From somewhere inside drifts the sound of a choir singing Silent Night.
I hover. âMichael, is it a good time? We were just passing by andâ¦â
He breaks into a broad smile. âItâs an excellent time. Charlotte will be thrilled to see you. Sheâs showing off Cara to everyone that comes by. Andâ¦â He looks quickly back over his shoulder, lowering his voice, â⦠after everything that happened, weâre doing our best to inject some Christmas spirit. The more the merrier. Now get yourselves inside before any more heat escapes. Here, let me take your coats.â
He waves us along the hall, heading upstairs himself. âMake yourselves at home in the lounge. Iâll go tell everyone youâre here.â