The Yuletide Child

‘Still dead? Have you got any neighbours with a phone?’

Regretfully, Ruth told her, ‘There isn’t a house within half a mile, I’m afraid. My nearest neighbours are a builder and his wife, the Horrockses, and they’re away in Canada, visiting their daughter and her new baby. I do have a car, but I don’t think it would be very safe to try to drive to the village just yet. If we wait an hour or so the snow might have stopped or the line may be reconnected.’ Ruth paused, nervously eying Dylan. ‘You aren’t about to have the baby, are you? You aren’t having pains?’

‘No, I don’t think so, thank heavens.’ Dylan smiled at her, picking up her anxiety. ‘I’m sorry for putting you to all this trouble, but you won’t have to cope with childbirth too, don’t worry.’

‘Are you worried about letting your husband know you’re safe?’

‘No,’ Dylan said curtly, her face clouding over at once, and Ruth wondered what was making her look so angry and sad. She couldn’t ask, of course. They would probably never meet again after today, and this girl would not want to talk about her most intimate secrets with a total stranger. Ruth knew she wouldn’t.

‘What job does he do?’

‘He’s a forester—our house is on the edge of his forest. All I ever see is trees now—pine trees mostly; it’s a commercial forest. There isn’t another house in sight.’ Her voice had a bitter ring to it. ‘I hate them! But he isn’t there at the moment; he’s at a meeting in York today.’ Falling silent, she stared into the red fire behind the grate of the range, then exclaimed, ‘The mobile! I’d forgotten it!’

‘Mobile?’ Ruth was bewildered for a second.

‘Phone. It’s in my bag.’ Dylan looked around for her bag, struggling to get up.

‘Stay where you are. I’ll get it.’ Ruth had put the bag down on the table. She handed it to Dylan, who hurriedly unzipped it, pulled out the mobile phone and tapped in Ross’s code.

‘No Service’.

‘Stupid, useless thing!’ muttered Dylan, trying again with the same result. ‘The whole point of having one of them is to use in an emergency, but so far I haven’t been able to use this one at all.’

‘Is it broken?’

‘No, it just isn’t picking up the satellite, I think. I’m not sure why. Ross says it depends on the location and the weather. Don’t they use radio waves? I suppose the snow is blocking the frequency, or something. I’m not very technically minded.’

‘Neither am I.’ Ruth considered the situation. ‘Look, why don’t you have a nice warm bath? I can lend you a nightie, dressing gown and slippers to wear, and I have a spare bedroom you can use. After your bath you can have a little snack—an omelette or scrambled egg on toast, if that’s all you really want, or some soup. But you can share my meal, if you like—I think I’ll make myself some spaghetti; it’s perfect for cold weather, quick and easy and very filling. I’ve got plenty of tomatoes, peppers and bacon for the sauce. Do you like spaghetti?’

‘I love it,’ Dylan said, getting up with care. ‘And I would love to have a bath, thank you. It would make me feel more human.’

Ross had unpacked his overnight bag and hung his clean shirts in the wardrobe, set out his shaving kit, toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, all at his usual methodical pace. He liked a tidy space around him.

Looking at his watch, he saw he had fifteen minutes to kill before going down for a drink with his friends before lunch, so he sat down at the small table by the window to go over some notes he had made on subjects he wanted to raise during the discussions later. There was no time to waste. He must make sure his points were hammered home. But it was hard to concentrate, which was usual for him. His mind had always been very much under his control, as fit and disciplined as his body. Lately, though, he couldn’t be quite so certain of either.

The bitter row with Dylan was nagging away at him. It had been madness to marry her. They were too different. If only he hadn’t been so obsessed with her! He should have known she would never put up with his lifestyle. It was the opposite of everything she had known. She had always lived in a city. She didn’t understand country life. She liked crowds. They didn’t have any neighbours, and the few they did have had nothing in common with her.

He had hoped she would make friends with Suzy, but before long he had realised that was not on the cards. They were chalk and cheese, opposites of each other. It was a pity. He wished Dylan was more like Suzy in some ways—a little more down to earth, less volatile, less hypersensitive.

Desire had blinded him to everything in Dylan that made her the wrong wife for him. Her beautiful, supple body made his blood run hot, his hunger rise. He hadn’t cared in the beginning that she had never done any housework, knew nothing about gardening, was afraid of the forest he loved with a silent, intense passion. All he’d cared about at first was that he needed her, had to have her in his bed every night, the smooth-skinned warmth of her body moulded to his own.

Now he never touched her, slept in another bedroom as much as possible, tried never to look at her. Their marriage, in the physical sense, did not exist any more.

With a smothered groan he looked at his watch. Why wasn’t Suzy here yet? She was supposed to slip up to his room in secret before lunch. Nobody must see her. Surely she wasn’t going to be late, today of all days?

Turning to stare out of the window, he saw a flurry of white flakes go past and stiffened. Snow! So the forecast had been wrong, and Dylan right. She would be frantic. He had better check that she was okay, reassure her.

Picking up the phone, he dialled hurriedly, but there was no reply. The phone rang and rang. Surely she couldn’t be outside in this weather? Remembering that he had left his mobile with her, he tried the number only to be told the phone was not in service.

For several minutes Ross sat staring out at the snowfall, which was clearly becoming a blizzard, his expression grim. Dylan was alone, with no phone.

She would be petrified, and with so short a time to go before the birth she might panic herself into starting labour. He couldn’t risk it. He would never forgive himself if she lost this baby. It would probably mean the end of their marriage.

He had to get back to her, make sure nothing was really wrong. Even though that meant letting Suzy down. It couldn’t be helped. What else could he do?

The phone next to him rang, making him start. It could be Dylan! He picked it up, said huskily, ‘Hello?’

‘Ross, darling!’ said a warm, sensual voice.