Louisa dropped the spoon and turned to look at her, her expression stricken. ‘I did all the wrong things—said all the wrong things. I’ve driven him out of his own home. I wanted to make everything better, Alice, and instead I’ve just made everything ten times worse.’
And she felt horribly guilty.
Alice shook her head. ‘That’s not true, dear. You’re loving and kind. How can someone like you ever make anything worse?’ She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. ‘We felt the same, you know. After his wife died. The whole community tried their best. It’s hard, you know, finding the right thing to say, and I don’t think any of us managed it. He thought we were interfering.’
‘I don’t think he wanted to hear it,’ Louisa mumbled, giving up on the gravy and rummaging in her sleeve for a tissue. ‘He didn’t think he deserved sympathy.’
‘Because he blamed himself.’ Alice sighed. ‘But he had no reason to. That was never a marriage made in heaven. Anyone could see that.’
‘Except him.’ Louisa collapsed onto the nearest chair and dropped her head onto her arms. ‘I’m so tired I could fall asleep on the spot. All I know is I’ve created this busy, noisy, merry Christmas and he doesn’t want it. I’m sitting here, surrounded by turkey and a tree, just dying for him to come home, and he doesn’t want any of it. He’s at the hospital, patching up patients. And it’s my fault. If I wasn’t here he could come home and enjoy Christmas in his own way. He wanted to be on his own and I should have just let him. But I had to interfere.’
‘And a good thing, too. You’re the right girl for him,’ Alice said gruffly, ‘and I know that he’s going to see that, Louisa. You have to hang on, dear.’
Louisa shook her head despondently. Where Mac was concerned she’d run out of energy and given up hope, and suddenly she just wanted to cry like a child. She lifted her head and bit her lip.
‘It’s like making a cake with no recipe,’ she choked, struggling to hold back the tears. ‘I’ve got all the right ingredients but I’ve done something wrong in the mixing. He doesn’t want me, Alice. And nothing I do can change that. He doesn’t want anyone. Perhaps he never will.’
With a cluck of sympathy, Alice moved round the table and scooped Louisa into her arms. ‘There, sweetie, have a good cry...’
It felt good to be held and for a moment Louisa was tempted to just snuggle against Alice and have a good howl.
But then she smelt the turkey.
‘I can’t.’ She gave a massive sniff and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘I’ve got a turkey to carve and I can’t do that with blurred vision. I can’t even do it with perfect vision. I’m hopeless with knives.’
‘We’ll do it together,’ Alice promised, and Louisa gave a wobbly smile.
‘You’ve had three sherries, Alice.’ She blew her nose hard. ‘Your carving will be worse than mine and, knowing our luck, you’ll end up in A and E, having chopped your finger off.’
‘Well, at least then we’d see Mac,’ Alice pointed out with a girlish giggle, and Louisa smiled.
‘I don’t think I want to go to those lengths for a date. You do cheer me up, Alice.’
‘And you cheer me up, too, dear. In fact, you cheer everyone up, and if our Mac can’t see that then he isn’t the man I know him to be.’ Alice gave her another hug and then sniffed the air. ‘You might want to do something about that gravy. I think it’s burning.’
‘Oh, my goodness.’ Louisa jumped to feet and hurried to the Aga to rescue the gravy, lifting it off the heat and pouring it into the jug she’d warmed in readiness. ‘OK. I can’t put this off any longer. I’m going to carve.’ She lifted the tray and placed it in the middle of the kitchen table. ‘Here goes.’
‘I think I might need another sherry,’ Alice said vaguely, as she stared at the bird.
‘Not yet, Alice,’ Louisa wailed, brandishing a knife. ‘I need you sober to help me with this. Do you like red meat or white meat? Not that it makes much difference, the way I carve. It all sort of merges together.’
‘Go for it,’ Alice urged, reaching for the sherry bottle. ‘I’m right behind you.’
* * *
Mac opened the door of his house and paused, a slight smile touching his hard mouth.
From the kitchen came delicious smells and he could hear shrieks of laughter. And it felt good. His house was filled with life.
And then he realised that his house wasn’t just filled with life, it was filled with Louisa.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait to get her on her own but he knew how much she wanted to share it with her new friends. And her generosity towards almost total strangers was what made her the woman he loved.
And he did love her.
He knew that now.
A smile on his lips, he walked quietly through to the conservatory, which was laid for Christmas lunch. There was something he needed to do before he told them he was here.