‘Perhaps we should try not forgetting it and then maybe we’d forget it.’
‘Lara…’ He closed his eyes and she whimpered.
‘I know, I know. I’m making no sense. This can’t be happening. I’ve never yet met a man who hasn’t driven me to screaming pitch within three dates, and we haven’t even been on one! It’s all your fault. Show me a flaw, quickly. Reveal something positively shocking.’
‘I didn’t want this Christmas tree.’ The first flakes of snow settled on his dark hair. With his cool, blue eyes and his dark jaw he looked impossibly handsome. ‘Is that shocking?’
‘No, it’s sensible. The tree is far too big for your house. Actually, it’s too big for anyone’s house.’ She studied it. ‘It might look good in the middle of Leicester Square. Or maybe we could just ship it to the US. They’d have
room for it out there. It’s a big country.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You said the tree was perfect.’
‘It is perfect. Perfect for the children because they love it. But as for the rest of it…’ She gave a helpless shrug and started to laugh, ‘It’s going to scratch the paint from your ceiling and you’re going to be clearing up needles for months. And that’s if we can even get it home. But it was worth buying it just to see their faces.’
He lifted a hand to his face and shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re worse than the children.’
‘Very possibly.’
‘Why did I ever allow you to move in with me?’ His tone was exasperated and she gave a helpless shrug.
‘Because you were in a tight spot and we both thought we could easily resist each other. Obviously we were both a bit overconfident. Let’s go home and decorate the tree. There’s nothing quite like pine needles digging into your bottom to put a dent in the libido.’
He slipped his hand into his coat and removed his wallet. ‘Chloe wouldn’t have minded having a smaller one. We should have bought a smaller one.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t.’ After a moment’s hesitation she followed her instincts and slipped her arm through his. ‘And Chloe wanted this one every bit as much as Aggie, but she didn’t want to upset you.’
He stilled, a frown in his eyes. ‘Why would she be afraid of upsetting me? Am I an ogre?’
‘No, of course you’re not.’ Lara’s smile faded. ‘Perhaps she isn’t afraid of upsetting you. I could be wrong. I haven’t known her long. Perhaps she’s just looking after you.’
‘Possibly.’
But it was obvious that he thought it was something more than that and Lara resolved to engineer a way of talking to Chloe about something other than the usual mundane stuff.
‘Daddy, it’s snowing!’ Shrieking with excitement. Aggie spread out her hands and lifted her face to the sky.
Watching the snowflakes drift gently onto the pavement, they made their way home and then hung lights on the tree and then decorations, including the ones that the girls had made with Lara.
‘We baked them in the oven and painted them,’ Aggie told Christian, staring in awe as her wonky star revolved slowly on the Christmas tree. ‘Wow. It looks fantastic. Mummy never let us put our own decorations on the tree because she always said that matching silver ones looked better, but I don’t think they do. This is much more fun.’
Chloe smiled as she hung her own version of a reindeer next to the star. ‘It was fun,’ she said shyly, ‘making our own decorations. Thank you, Lara. And I love my new bedroom.’
‘Good.’
Lara glanced at Chloe, puzzled. She was just too polite. She was twelve years old. Almost a teenager and yet she never did anything wrong. She didn’t fight with her sister. She didn’t argue or stamp or even roll her eyes. What was going on? Suddenly Lara wished that the child would do something that required at least a mild rebuke. Anything that would make it seem less likely that she was bottling up something enormous. ‘I’m going to heat up those mince pies we made. Will you help me, Chloe?’
‘Of course.’ Chloe hung the last of the decorations on her side of the tree and walked towards the kitchen with Lara. ‘Just mince pies?’
‘I think so. We only had lunch a few hours ago.’ Lara stooped to lift the mince pies out of the oven. ‘So when is the school disco, Chloe?’
‘It’s next Saturday.’ Chloe took a plate from the cupboard. ‘But I’m not going.’
‘Why aren’t you going?’
‘Because it doesn’t finish until ten o’clock. That’s too late.’
‘Too late for what?’ Lara slid the mince pies onto the plate. ‘You’re not usually asleep until then and it’s the holidays. What’s the problem?’