Festive Fling with the Single Dad

They had a connection. It was one of those things that just happened, forged out of nothing between two people who hardly knew each other. He could do nothing about it, but that didn’t mean he had to act on it either. The days when he’d had only himself to consider were gone.

The evening ritual of reading Mette a story and then carrying her over to her bed calmed him a little. As he settled her down, cosy and warm under the quilt, he heard a quiet tap on the door and it opened a fraction.

‘What are you still doing here?’ Flora’s working day had finished hours ago, but he couldn’t help the little quiver of joy that gripped his heart.

‘I’ve been working late. I just wondered how your expedition went.’

‘We went across a big river! And back again.’ Mette was suddenly wide awake again. ‘Will you come with us next time, Tante Flora?’

Flora blushed, telling Mette that she would. Aksel wondered whether it gave her as much pleasure to hear the little girl call her Tante as it did when she called him Papa. He’d decided with Olaf and Agnetha that they wouldn’t push her, and that Mette should call him whatever she felt comfortable with, but the first time she’d used Papa, Aksel hadn’t been able to hide his tears.

‘It means aunt. Don’t be embarrassed, she calls a lot of people tante or onkel.’ Flora’s reluctance to be seen to be too close to the little girl in front of Dr Sinclair had been obvious.

‘And I was hoping it was just me...’ Flora smiled as if it was a joke, but Aksel saw a flash of longing in her eyes, which was hidden as quickly as it had appeared.

‘Not usually so quickly.’ Aksel tried to take the thought back, turning to his daughter and arranging the bedcovers over her again. ‘Are you ready to say goodnight, Mette?’

‘I want Tante Flora to say it with me...’ Mette reached for the cabinet by the side of her bed, carefully running her fingers across its edge. Aksel bit back the instinct to help her, waiting patiently for her to find what she wanted by touch. The clinic staff had told him that he should let her do as much as she could by herself, but each time he had to pause and watch her struggling to do something that came so naturally to other children, he felt consumed with the sadness of all that Mette had lost.

‘It’s okay...’ Flora whispered the words. They were for him, not Mette, and when he looked at her, he saw understanding. She could see how much this hurt, and was enforcing the message that it was what he must do, to allow Mette to learn how to explore her world.

Not easy. He mouthed the words, and Flora nodded.

‘I know. You’re doing great.’

Mette had found what she wanted, and she clutched the small electric light in her hand as she snuggled back under the covers. When she tipped it to one side, light glimmered inside the glass, as if a candle had been lit.

She hadn’t done that for a few days, and Aksel hadn’t pushed the issue, leaving Mette to do as she wanted. Maybe it was Flora’s presence, her warmth, that had made Mette think of her mother tonight.

‘Say goodnight to Mama.’ Mette directed the words at Flora and she glanced questioningly at Aksel.

‘Her grandmother gave her this. Mette switches it on when she wants to talk to Lisle and then we pretend to blow out the candle.’

‘That’s a lovely thing to do.’ Flora’s smile showed that she understood that this was an honour that Mette usually didn’t share with people outside the family.

They each said their goodnights, Mette including Tante Flora in hers. Flora leaned forward, kissing Mette, and then turned, leaving Aksel to kiss his daughter goodnight alone.

She was waiting outside the door, though. The connection, which grew stronger each time he saw her, had told Aksel that she’d be there and it hadn’t let him down yet.

‘Would you like a lift home?’

Aksel shook his head. ‘No. Thanks, but I want to go and have a word with Dr Sinclair. He said he’d still be here.’

‘I can wait.’

‘I’d prefer to walk. It clears my head.’ It also didn’t carry with it the temptation to ask Flora into his cottage for a nightcap. By the time he got home, he would have persuaded himself that the light that burned in her porch in the evenings was something that he could resist.

‘I think I prefer a head full of clutter to walking in the cold and dark.’ She gave him a wry smile and started to walk slowly towards the main staircase.

There was no one around, and they were dawdling companionably along the corridor. He could ask her now...

A sixth sense warned Aksel that he couldn’t. Someone like Flora must have men lining up to ask her out, but she obviously had no partner. No children either. He wanted to ask about the welcome gifts she gave to all the kids at the clinic, and the quickly veiled sadness he’d seen in her eyes. But he didn’t have the words, and something told him that even if he did, Flora would shut his enquiries down.

A couple of nurses walked past them, and Flora acknowledged them with a smile. The moment was gone.

‘So... You’re still okay for eight thirty tomorrow? To visit the housing complex?’

Flora nodded. ‘I’ll be ready.’