‘You should see my dad’s bedroom. It’s huge. So is his bed. Mind you, he needs an enormous bed because Posy often crawls in with him in the middle of the night.’ Alfie darted across the bedroom and pushed open another door. ‘This is your bathroom. The window goes all the way along so you can still see the view from the bath. You’ve gone really red—I suppose you’re worrying about someone seeing you naked, but they won’t. We don’t have any neighbours, which is quite useful when Posy is having one of her tantrums.’
Hayley, whose colour had more to do with inappropriate thoughts involving Patrick’s bed than modesty, managed a smile. ‘Thanks. I’ll remember that.’
‘I’m just saying that you don’t need to worry too much about wandering around with no clothes on.’
‘There is absolutely no way I’ll be wandering around with no clothes on,’ Hayley assured him hastily, shrinking at the thought of bumping into Patrick in anything less than full clothing.
She’d already left one pair of knickers on his bedroom floor. That was more than enough.
From now on she would be making no moves at all, except ones that took her in the opposite direction.
‘I thought Dad would be really mad with me for advertising for a housekeeper,’ Alfie confided, ‘but I think he’s pleased now that you’re going to be cooking the turkey. He’s hopeless at it.’
‘Well, if we want a delicious lunch without a nervous breakdown, we’d better go and finish our preparations.’ Hayley held out her hand. ‘Are you ready, Chef?’
Alfie grinned. ‘Ready.’
Another layer of snow fell overnight and Hayley woke to a world so impossibly beautiful that for a moment she didn’t move. Warm and snug under the soft duvet, she lay there, listening to church bells chiming in the distance.
Christmas morning.
And for once she didn’t have to brace herself to face her family. To try and be someone she wasn’t.
There was a tap on the door and Patrick walked in, a mug in his hand. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and his jaw was dark with stubble. ‘You wanted to be woken at eight…’
Oh, my, he looked good in the morning—heavy lidded and unshaven…
‘Yes. I want to get the turkey in the oven so that we can eat at a decent time.’ Hayley decided it was safer to look at the mug he was holding, rather than him. ‘Thanks for the tea.’
‘I thought it might help you wake up. I’m guessing you’re jet-lagged. What time did you get to sleep?’
‘Oh—not sure,’ Hayley mumbled, pulling the duvet up to her chin. ‘Late. Still feels like the middle of the night.’ She wasn’t going to confess that her appallingly disturbed night had had everything to do with him and nothing to do with the time difference. ‘Thanks for the tea.’
‘The children are going to wait until you’re down before they open their presents.’
‘They don’t have to do that.’ Hayley was dying to drink the tea but she didn’t want to expose any part of her body while he was in the room. It was bad enough being in bed while he was standing there. It felt intimate. And she was doing her best to avoid all suggestion of intimacy. ‘But I’m not family or anything. I was going to spend the morning in the kitchen. Let you get on with it.’
‘You’re living with us, Hayley,’ he said mildly. ‘You’re one of the family.’
In her dreams.
She was so aware of him that she was relieved to have the kitchen as an excuse to hide.
In the end she did join them for present opening, watching wistfully as the children tore paper off parcels and squealed with delight.
‘I have a present for Hayley.’ Alfie vanished and then reappeared, carrying two kittens.
‘Oh!’ Hayley gasped in delight and Patrick groaned.
‘Alfie, you can’t—’
‘My cat had four kittens…’ Alfie placed the kittens in Hayley’s lap ‘…and Dad says I can only keep two. So I’m giving you the other two. I want them to go to someone nice.’
The kittens snuggled into each other and Hayley stared down at them with a lump in her throat. ‘They’re gorgeous.’
‘Alfie…’ Patrick ran his hand over his jaw ‘…you can’t just give someone an animal. Hayley doesn’t have anywhere to keep them.’
‘Well, they’re hers just for Christmas, then,’ Alfie said stubbornly. ‘While she’s staying here. I’ll let her feed them and things.’