Newborn Under the Christmas Tree

‘Was there something you wanted?’ she asked, confused.

Liam paused for a moment. Then he said, ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘We were fine.’ Alice didn’t like to admit how close she’d come to phoning him for help several times through the day. But she’d made it through. She’d proved she didn’t need him or anyone else. And that was important.

Even if, in her current exhausted state, she couldn’t fully remember why.

‘You weren’t fine, Alice.’ Liam shifted, and she looked away, not even wanting to meet his closed eyes. ‘You were in tears. You coped, sure. But that’s not the same thing.’

‘I didn’t need your help,’ she ground out. Couldn’t he see how well she’d done? She’d survived, alone. Surely someone should be cheering her on for that.

‘Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t,’ Liam said. ‘But the point is, you wouldn’t even let yourself ask, no matter how bad it had got. Would you?’

Alice lifted her gaze to his face and realised his eyes were no longer closed. He stared down at her, the understanding clear in his eyes. ‘No,’ she whispered.

‘You don’t have to wait until you can’t cope alone, until things are truly desperate, to ask me for help, Alice.’ Liam’s voice was soft and warm, and the compassion in his gaze was mesmerising. Alice couldn’t look away. ‘We’re in this together, remember? As long as Jamie is here, he’s our responsibility, yours and mine. No matter how hard it gets, or how exhausted we both are. Neither one of us is supposed to do it alone. I’m here, and I want to help. So let me. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ Alice whispered.

Liam smiled. ‘Good. Then I’ll leave you to your bath. And maybe even nip down to the kitchens and put us together a late night snack. Okay?’

‘That sounds good,’ Alice admitted, and he nodded and left, closing the door gently behind him.

He’d meant it. He’d really, really meant it. This wasn’t a ‘Call me if you need me’ with an underlying message of ‘I really hope you don’t, though.’

This was Liam, promising that she could rely on him. That he’d be there, for her and for Jamie, for as long as this strange situation went on.

And the weirdest part of all was she believed him. She trusted him, in a way she’d never imagined she’d be able to trust again.

She trusted Liam Jenkins.

Alice stared at the bubbles around her for a moment, then sank her head down under the water. She’d deal with all the emotions and thoughts that brought up when she’d had some sleep. For now, she was just going to enjoy the lifting of her burden, just for a little while.

* * *

Two days later, Jamie snoozed peacefully in the sling, his cold all better, as Alice helped Maud to run her Christmas pudding workshop in the Old Kitchen.

‘The Christmas puddings we eat today originated in the Victorian period,’ Maud said, handing out bowls while Alice passed around the tub full of wooden spoons. ‘Before then, it was more of plum pudding, and before that more of a meaty porridge! But today we’re going to make a pudding that everyone at your Christmas table will enjoy. Now, to start with, has everybody washed their hands?’

While Maud got everyone sorted with aprons and ingredients, Alice watched from the bench by the fire, rocking back and forth a little to soothe Jamie. When she’d arrived at Thornwood, Maud had been reluctant to let anyone—even Alice—into her kitchen. In fact, she’d resented having any outsiders in Thornwood Castle even more than Rose had. But over the last year and a half she’d watched the work Alice was doing and warmed to the idea. It had been her idea to start the basics cooking courses, ideal for girls going off to university, or starting their own families or setting up home. They’d proved so popular—and Maud’s recipes so delicious—that they not only ran the basics course every month but also offered an intermediate one on occasion.

The Christmas pudding day had been Maud’s idea too. ‘If I’m making one Christmas pudding, we might as well make a dozen,’ she’d said, so Heather had made up fliers, Alice had made enough calls to raise the money to hold it, and the course had been fully booked in no time at all.

The group around the large, battered wooden table chattered as they stirred their puddings. Strange to think that just over a week ago she’d sat at that table with Liam and they’d hammered out their deal. Since that first walk with Jamie, when they’d stumbled across the cottage, he’d found two more possible sites. Each time, she’d headed out with trepidation to view them, even though she couldn’t put her finger on what was worrying her. That they’d be no good, that they’d never find a perfect location and Liam would just throw them out? Or that they’d be perfect, they’d get things set up and then it would be time for her to leave? Either way, she wouldn’t be at Thornwood any more. She wouldn’t have Jamie. And she definitely wouldn’t have Liam.

She shook her head and hummed a snatch of ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ to Jamie. She couldn’t think about that. Jamie wasn’t hers; sooner or later he’d be going to his real, forever family. Either his mother would be found and he’d be taken home, or social services would find him a family to love and raise him. One with two parents, and maybe siblings to quarrel and play with.

Alice had done her research. She knew that she—a single woman of soon-to-be no fixed abode—didn’t stand a chance at adopting Jamie, even with his mother’s note. And while she could admit that having him in her life had made everything brighter, more worthwhile, how could she dream of taking responsibility for a vulnerable child when she didn’t even know where she’d be, what she’d be doing next month? When she couldn’t offer Jamie the home he deserved?

Liam could, though. He had Thornwood, and money and a future. He could give Jamie anything he wanted—everything that he’d never been given himself. Would he? Because Alice knew for certain that she couldn’t stick around and watch that from the sidelines. See Jamie and Liam make their own family—watch Liam find the perfect mother for Jamie, even, perhaps. See the life that Alice could never have playing out in front of her, taunting her.

No. She’d lost everything once before. This time, she knew, she’d make sure to get out before everything she dreamed of was ripped away from her. It was the only way she’d survive a second time.

The door to the Old Kitchen clattered open, just as Jamie stirred and cried out.

‘Looks like I timed that to perfection,’ Liam commented from the doorway, holding out a bottle ready for him.

Alice forced a smile. ‘You did.’

Liam descended the stairs and crossed the room to hand her the bottle, apparently unaware of the way all the other women i

n the room were whispering about him. Alice knew what they were saying; of course he looked as handsome as always, despite the same lack of sleep that had left her with giant suitcases under her eyes. And yes, it was adorable the way he knew baby Jamie’s schedule so well.

But that wasn’t all they were saying, she knew. They were speculating. Heather had taken great joy in telling her exactly how many conversations she’d overheard in the past week about whether Liam and Alice were a couple now.

‘You told them all the truth, though, right?’ Alice had asked. ‘Explained that we’re just sharing care of Jamie for the time being?’

Heather had just grinned even wider. It looked wrong on her usually sombre face, Alice decided, and told her so. Which only made her laugh.

Alice had given up at that point.

Easing Jamie out of the sling, she handed him to Liam, who settled onto the bench beside her and started feeding him.

‘So,’ he asked, giving her a friendly smile, ‘what exactly are we doing here?’

And wasn’t that just the million-dollar question?

* * *

Alice stared at him without answering, and Liam found himself reviewing his innocent question in his mind.

What are we doing here?

He’d meant in the kitchen, with all the spicy, fruity scent and the women, of course. But in an instant he saw his mistake. Because neither of them had ever clarified exactly what it was they were doing, beyond keeping Jamie healthy and safe. And occasionally having conversations while she was naked and covered in bubbles.

Not that he’d been thinking about what she might look like under those bubbles. Well, not much. Not at the time, anyway.

And since then...better not to think about it, he’d decided.

‘I mean here,’ Liam clarified, waving a hand to indicate the industrious baking going on around him.

‘Oh! Obviously. Um, making Christmas puddings,’ Alice explained, a slight pink blush on her pale cheeks.

‘Right. Of course.’

He looked away, staring anywhere except at her. Because he knew exactly where her mind had gone—because his had done the same thing too.