‘Stir the cake and make a wish, but don’t say it out loud or it won’t work.’
Nicholas obediently stood where she told him too and took the spoon she offered him. ‘Now?’
‘Yes, now. Close your eyes while you do it.’
‘But I won’t see if I’m stirring it properly.’
Rose sighed loudly. ‘It’s not about the stirring, it’s about the wish.’
He closed his eyes and began to stir as the potent fragrance rose up into his nostrils. He felt her eyes upon him. He smiled sheepishly and dropped the spoon into the mixture.
‘All done.’
‘That was quick.’ Rose frowned, tilting her head to one side as she looked at him. ‘You didn’t make one, did you?’ She shoved the spoon back into his hand. ‘Go on, make a wish.’
It was Nicholas who sighed loudly this time as he closed his eyes again. He heard her stifle a giggle beside him. He didn’t want to think too hard — that territory was forbidden.
‘All done.’ He dropped the spoon and sidled away from the table.
‘That was still quick. Did you make one this time?’
This time he feigned feeling affronted. ‘Yes I did! I wished people would stop falling ill with Spanish flu.’
Rose was exasperated. ‘No! You can’t tell me the wish. Now it won’t come true!’ She shuffled him back into position and held out the spoon. ‘You don’t have to make a wish. I just thought it would be a Christmassy thing to do. I am usually on my own when I do this, so thought it would be nice to share it with someone for a change.’
How could he refuse? Wasn’t this what his visits were all about? To give Rose Gribble the Christmas she had always wanted?
He took the spoon again, his fingers grazing hers, and closed his eyes.
Although the fruits and brandy of the cake still filled the room, he could now smell the finer notes of Rose’s floral perfume. Had she always worn perfume? She was so close he had to fight the urge to lean towards her.
‘You need to stir it at the same time.’
He obeyed, clutching the wooden spoon far too tightly in an effort not to do what he really wanted to do — to hold her, to comfort her and accept her comforting in return. He knew what his wish must be — to find a woman just like Rose and for their love to last forever. Did it count if you used the word “and”?
He opened his eyes to find Rose staring at him with a whimsical smile on her face. She blushed and busied herself preparing the tin.
‘Aren’t you going to make a wish?’
‘I would only wish that Sam was not really dead and that the army made a mistake.’ The mention of Sam’s name caught him off guard. While he had been imagining foolish things, Sam’s spirit had entered the room and sat down beside them.
‘I haven’t told you about Sam.’
He shook his head dumbly. He wondered whether he should pluck up the courage to tell her that Sam had been his friend. If he did would it cast his visits in a whole different light? She would see them as calculating and shrouded in duplicity. The Christmas magic of his visits, done with the best intentions, would be tarnished.
He watched Rose pour the cake mixture into a tin and place it in the oven. He should ask about Sam. It’s what a normal conversation would call for.
‘I think it’s time for some mulled wine,’ he said, before escaping outside.
He returned with a bottle of red wine and two candles. Rose was waiting for him with a large saucepan in her hand. The tension in his muscles drained away. Sam had left and it was just the two of them again. He opened the wine and handed Rose the bottle. While she poured it into the pan, Nicholas went in search of something to hold the candles. He returned with two old tea plates and placed them on the table. Rose slowly stirred the wine as she nodded in approval. Nicholas lit one of the candles and tilted it so pearls of melted wax dropped onto one of the plates. He stood the candle in the pool of solidifying wax.
‘That will do. I should have brought candle holders.’ He lit the other as Rose tended to the simmering wine. ‘I should havebrought oranges and lemons too,’ he added, looking at it over her shoulder.
‘It doesn’t matter. There aren’t many about. You brought cloves and I had some cinnamon still in the cupboard. I’m sure it will taste just fine.’
Nicholas sat at the table, content to just watch Rose gently stirring the liquid and ask her about her day. Time flew by and suddenly Rose was joining him at the table with two teacups of mulled wine. He turned off the main lights as she sat down opposite him. She looked at him over her teacup as he quickly joined her, her eyes glinting with candlelight, as she warmed her hands.
‘I should have mentioned Sam before.’
