Christmas at Rosewood

I was glad I’d had my time alone with Max first to observe our tradition, but I found I didn’t mind sharing him now. In fact, it was so lovely to watch him smiling and laughing, having fun with others, after the awful gloom of the last few months.

Maybe this Christmas would be a watershed, a chance for us to start fresh and move on. And if that was all I took away from this strange second Christmas with Aiden… well, it would be more than last time, at least.

‘Mum says I’m not old enough to read your books, Aiden. I think I am. What do you think?’ Max’s question pulled me out of my own thoughts and back to the snow animals.

Aiden looked at me before answering. ‘I reckon your mum probably knows that best, mate. Sorry. But, you know, I’ve got a book of short stories that might be okay for you – if your mum agrees, of course.’

Max swung round to look at me with pleading eyes.

‘I’ll read them first,’ I said, hoping they weren’t too gruesome. ‘If I don’t get nightmares, you can read them.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ Aiden assured me. ‘They’re no worse than Lovecraft.’

‘Lovecraft?’ Max asked.

‘Lovecraft was the master,’ Aiden told him. ‘You’ll love him. More horror than my stuff. Caro’s a fan, aren’t you?’

And they were off, lost in a world of fishmen and other creatures.

H. P. Lovecraft. It had been years since I’d read his stories – probably not since I’d discussed them with Aiden that Christmas, in fact. But I hadn’t forgotten them. In fact, there was a wrapped short story collection under the tree for Max, not that he knew it yet.

‘Breakfast is served!’ Tony’s voice echoed out from the back door, and I turned to see him standing there in his elf apron again. ‘Best come get it before the others beat you to it.’

‘We just need to finish our elephant,’ Aiden called back.

‘And maybe build Cthulhu,’ Caro added.

I shook my head. I knew when I was beat. ‘I’m going in to get changed into something less snowy,’ I told them, and headed inside, leaving them arguing about tentacles.

I didn’t spend too long making myself presentable. I knew if I made too much of an effort, Mum would only assume that it was for Aiden, and glare at me all through breakfast. Of course, if I didn’t make enough of an effort, she’d accuse me of being disrespectful to our hosts. It was a delicate line to walk.

Personally, I had no intention of drawing any attention at all, I decided, as I pulled on my knitted Fair Isle dress over a thick pair of woolly tights. Better just to wait the day out and get the hell away from Rosewood before I could make anything worse.

Of course, the idea of leaving without another moment alone with Aiden made my insides ache, especially after seeing him with Max that morning, but that was just something I was going to have to live with. I’d managed it for the last fourteen years. How hard could one more day be?

I wasn’t going to deny that there was something still between us. But even he couldn’t believe that this was the right time to do anything about it. I hoped.

Tony had laid on a magnificent Christmas Day breakfast of things that didn’t involve too much cooking. ‘I’m all about the main event today, I’m afraid,’ he explained, as I eyed the massive pile of warm croissants and pastries, the jam, the cold meats, the smoked salmon, the bagels, the fruit platters and the yogurts. ‘You’ll just have to make do with this, while I get on with the turkey.’ He disappeared back into the kitchen.

Presents, Therese informed me in between bites of pain au chocolat, didn’t officially happen until after breakfast. But, tentacled snow-deity built, Caro and Max had dragged their overstuffed stockings through from the drawing room and were unwrapping silly, small gifts as they ate. Ellie and Greg were helping Nicolette open her tiny stocking, too.

Aiden was nowhere to be seen.

Which was a good thing, I reminded myself. He was probably getting changed, too, and it made it a lot easier to resist kissing him if he wasn’t even there.

Once everyone had finished eating, we made our way back through to the massive hallway, where the oversized tree appeared to have given birth to a huge pile of presents overnight. One by one, they were all handed out, oohed over, and thank yous said. Fortunately, there were so many people and so many presents that no one really had time to do more than shout their appreciation into the melee, over the sound of wrapping paper being ripped off.

I felt strangely nervous as Mum handed out the gifts we’d brought – especially the one for Saskia. The others were mostly generic, inoffensive gifts, but I’d spent hours agonising over the perfect thing for Saskia. She’d be my sister-in-law soon enough – I suspected – and I wanted to make a good impression.

‘Oh! It’s gorgeous!’ Saskia threw her arms around me within seconds of making it through the wrapping paper, and relief flooded through me.

‘It’s a travel journal,’ I explained. ‘For when you go back out on tour with the book.’

‘It’s perfect,’ Saskia assured me.

‘Max?’ Edward called. ‘This one’s yours, mate.’

Max took it and checked the label. ‘From you, Mum.’ He shook it, and felt the edges. ‘Definitely a book – big surprise there.’

‘You love books,’ I pointed out, and he shot me a cheeky grin.

‘And you love to buy them.’ Which was true. Every year I bought him something special in hardback. Another tradition I’d managed to keep up.

Maybe I wasn’t doing as badly as I thought.

Max ripped off the paper and read the spine. ‘H. P. Lovecraft… how did you know?’ Caro squealed as she read over his shoulder.

‘I’m a mind reader,’ I told him. ‘It’s one of the many requirements for being a mother.’

Max rolled his eyes, but he kept the book close, already reading the first story. I decided that counted as a victory.

‘And this one’s for Aiden,’ Edward said, checking a label. ‘Where is he, anyway?’ He looked automatically to me, and I shrugged.

‘I think the kids wore him out building snow animals.’

‘He’ll be down soon enough, I’m sure,’ Saskia said. ‘Now, what’s this one? Oh! It’s for me.’

Edward grabbed the small gift from her hands and held it against his chest. ‘Yes it is. From me.’

‘So… are you going to give it to me?’ Saskia asked, after a long moment in which he seemed disinclined to do any such thing.

‘Yes. Of course. Absolutely.’ A smile crept onto my lips at my brother’s obvious unsettledness. Edward was usually the calm, collected one. To see him this flustered… well, I had a very good idea what had to be in that box to cause it.

Edward glanced around the hallway, as if counting heads, checking that everyone was there. ‘Right then.’ In one swift movement, he dropped down to one knee, and a squeal went up from the corner where Therese and Isabelle were standing, both wearing the scarves I’d bought for them over their Christmas Day dresses.

‘Oh God,’ Saskia moaned. ‘In front of everybody?’

‘We don’t have any more secrets, remember?’ Edward said, smiling up at her. ‘Now, if you’re ready.’

‘Hang on!’ Tony cried. ‘Let me get the camera.’

‘There’s one on your phone, Dad,’ Caro reminded him. ‘In your apron pocket.’

‘Right, right.’ Tony patted his pocket until he found it, and Caro took it from him to open the camera app and frame the photo.

‘Okay,’ Caro said. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Saskia, I know this must come as a huge surprise to you at this point,’ Edward said, and everyone chuckled – but not loud enough to interrupt him. ‘But I want you to know how much I love you. How much better my life is for having you in it. And how much I want to spend the rest of that life with you.’

‘Even if it also means spending it with this lot?’ Saskia asked, and it only half sounded like she was joking.

‘You’re worth it,’ Edward said

, and she bent down and kissed him, then whispered something in his ear.

Edward beamed, and tore the wrapping paper off the ring box, tugging out the ring and placing it firmly on Saskia’s finger.

My heart felt so big I was scared it might burst; then I looked up and saw Aiden watching from the stairs and I was afraid it already had.

His dark hair was tousled and damp, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. He turned his head and met my gaze, but I looked away before he could read anything in it. I didn’t trust my eyes to tell him the line we’d agreed on.