“When you had tea with Lady Sherbourne yesterday,” Olivia answered with a smile.“Daddy helped because the lid came off the glue and then we got glitter everywhere.”
“Well, these are gifts I will treasure forever,” she said, hugging each girl before hanging them on the tree in a prominent position.
Rhys had one more gift for the girls, a beautiful hardback set of The Chronicles of Narnia.He’d thought Olivia and Jillian would want the books to take back to London so he could keep readingThe Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobeeach night, along with the rest of the series.
Cat’s eyes filled with tears then, and it was silly really to be so emotional over him reading to his daughters each night, but it was also one of those special memories the girls would always have.He’d also have those memories, and he’d never regret the time spent reading to them later.
Despite the girls saying they didn’t nap on Christmas, but were tired after waking early, and they snuggled under blankets on the couch to rest a bit until they played board games later.Both girls almost immediately fell asleep and were still sleeping when a knock came at the door.Mr.Trimble stood on the outside on the step, red-cheeked from the cold, his cap slightly askew.
“From Mrs.Johnson,” he said, nodding to the enormous hamper in his hands.“Said she’d not have you missing Christmas dinner just because you’ve sick little ones.”
Rhys took it, stunned.Cat peered inside—turkey slices, roast goose, little sausages wrapped in bacon, roasted parsnips, buttery potatoes, stuffing balls, cranberry relish, a small Christmas pudding, and even a box of mince pies tied with ribbon.
“Oh my goodness,” Cat breathed.“This is… everything.”
“Aye,” Mr.Trimble said with satisfaction.“And there’s gravy in the jar there.Mrs.J says give it a stir before warming.”
“Please tell her thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cat said, feeling ridiculously emotional all over again.This was a proper English Christmas, perhaps the most English Christmas she’d had yet.“This really means a great deal.”
Mr.Trimble lifted a hand, waved goodbye.
“Happy Christmas, Mr.Trimble,” Cat called to him as he walked back to his truck.
“Happy Christmas to you as well.”
In the cottage, Cat looked more closely through the hamper, uncovering more treats.A jar of homemade jam.A bowl of fresh whipping cream.Little vegetable crudité appetizers.“This is a proper Christmas dinner,” she said, looking up at Rhys, feeling joy.“Mrs.Johnson just saved Christmas.”
*
The knock cameearly the next morning, so early only Rhys was awake.He’d only had a few sips of coffee before the knock sounded again.He set his mug, the new forest-green one given to him by Cat, aside and headed to the front door.Who would call so early on Boxing Day?
When he opened the door, he was stunned to see Lyndsey.She looked bright, beautiful and composed, dressed for travel in cream trousers, a pale silk sweater, her hair swept back, a pair of oversized sunglasses pushed into it like a crown.Behind her, Roger’s sleek black car idled in the gravel drive.
“Morning,” she said, breath puffing in the cold.“I hope we’re not too early.”
“Lyndsey, what are you doing here?”Rhys demanded.
Her smile widened.“We’re flying out today, for our trip—”
“I thought you left days ago.At least a week ago.”
“Roger had some meetings come up and then clients from China were visiting, but everyone’s gone and we’re finally going and I had a thought—a spontaneous one, really.Why not bring the girls with us?A week in the Caribbean… sun, sea, swimming.It would be marvelous for them, don’t you think?”
For a heartbeat, Rhys didn’t move.He wasn’t able to think clearly, but the silence was soon filled by the patter of feet, Oliva’s gasp, and Jillian’s cough.
“Mummy!”Olivia cried, throwing herself at her mother and giving her a squeeze.“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, love,” Lyndsey said, stroking Olivia’s hair back from her face.
“Do you mean it?”Olivia asked, “We can go with you?”
“To the Caribbean?”Jillian echoed, already breathless, and hoarse, with excitement.
“Yes.As long as your father is good with it.”Lyndsey turned to Rhys.“What do you think?It’d be just for a week.We’d return New Year’s Day.”
Rhys’s voice came out lower than he meant it to.“You can’t just appear and—”
“Oh, Rhys, it’s Christmas.Let them live a little,” Lyndsey said.“Imagine how good it will be for them.We’ll be at Roger’s home on St.Bart’s and it’s fabulous there.They’ll be able to swim, snorkel, play tennis, get some proper sunshine before school starts again.”
