‘Posy won’t be well enough to go to the crèche tomorrow.’
‘Are you going to ask Mrs Thornton to sit with her?’
‘No.’ He leaned forward and put his plate down on the table. ‘I’ve rung the hospital—pulled some strings. I’m going to take the next few days off.’
Her hand resting on the kitten’s soft fur, Stella gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘How did you manage that? It’s the middle of winter—the department is busier than ever.’
‘Ben agreed to swap with me.’
‘That was kind of him. He’s a nice guy. Ellie is a lucky girl.’ Stella felt a stab of envy, thinking of Ellie with her gorgeous husband and her two lovely children. ‘And what do you have to do in return?’
‘I’m working Christmas.’
‘You’re working Christmas Day instead of Ben?’
‘He has a family.’ Daniel leaned back against the sofa and stretched out his legs. ‘Christmas is important to him.’
Whereas, to Daniel, it didn’t seem to matter at all. Suddenly she wanted to know. She needed to know. ‘You really hate Christmas, don’t you?’
‘It isn’t my favourite time of year, that’s true.’ An ironic smile touched his mouth. ‘I’m pretty sure it isn’t yours, either, after what I did to you two years ago.’
‘I love Christmas,’ Stella said simply. ‘What happened between us didn’t change that.’
Daniel’s eyes glittered in the firelight. ‘I’m glad I didn’t ruin it for you.’
‘Until I heard you talking to Alfie, I didn’t realise that you found Christmas so hard.’ Stella broached the subject hesitantly. ‘You obviously don’t have very good memories.’ She knew she was touching a nerve and, for a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to respond.
He stared into the fire, a blank expression in his eyes. And then he stirred. ‘I don’t have a single happy memory of Christmas and I’m sure that if you asked Patrick, he’d say the same thing.’
The kitten squirmed on Stella’s lap and she stroked it, wanting to know more but cautious about saying the wrong thing. ‘Did your parents not celebrate?’
‘They didn’t see being trapped in the house together over the festive season as something to celebrate. It just made the battle all the more intense,’ Daniel drawled softly. ‘Hand-to-hand combat instead of long-range missiles. The rest of the year my father spent as much time at work as possible. It minimised the opportunities for conflict. At Christmas, there was no opportunity for escape. They were trapped together. And we were trapped with them.’ He gave a humourless laugh. ‘Patrick and I used to pretend that we were prisoners of war.’
Stella thought about her own Christmases as a child. About being wrapped in love and laughter. Decorating the tree, playing games, the carol service in the village church, cooking with her mother…
‘If they were so unhappy, why didn’t they divorce?’
‘The official line was that they stayed together for the sake of the children.’ Daniel’s voice was loaded with irony. ‘But it was more for the sake of neighbours and friends. Divorce was failure.’
‘And they didn’t do anything to make Christmas special? No tree? No decorations?’ Stella lifted the kitten against her chest, finding its warm comforting. ‘No silly games of charades?’
‘No. My father tried to lose himself in the television but that annoyed my mother so much she actually broke it one year.’ Daniel laughed, but the sound was hard and devoid of any humour. ‘I remember inviting a friend over and my mother was hysterical. Vicious. Yelling at my father. After that, I didn’t invite anyone again. It was too embarrassing. To begin with I used to try and wangle invitations to other people’s houses, but that was hard, too. Seeing happy families just makes you feel even more isolated when yours is a dysfunctional mess.’
‘Daniel, that’s so sad.’ Appalled, Stella reached out to touch his arm and he turned to her with a mocking smile.
‘Don’t touch me, babe,’ he said softly, ‘not unless you’re willing to go with the consequences. And we both know that isn’t a good idea. I can’t give you what you want.’
Stella swallowed and removed her hand. But her insides were jumping and fluttering. ‘Relationships don’t have to be like the one your parents had. Patrick still believes in love.’
‘My brother is a fool. Carly walked out on him on Christmas Eve. The only reason those children aren’t basket cases is because Patrick is a fantastic dad.’
‘Yes. And you have all the qualities he has.’
Daniel lifted an eyebrow. ‘Try telling that to Alfie. So far today I’ve burned his hand, wrecked his favourite DVD, ruined the sofa, burned his dinner and broken his favourite car.’
‘You were doing your best.’
He closed his eyes, a faint smile playing around his hard mouth. ‘Well, my best isn’t good enough and it never will be. I haven’t got what it takes to be a good father. I have no experience. I see Patrick and I think, I’m not like that.’