Festive Fling with the Single Dad

The blaze seemed to chase away the darkness that stood beyond it, illuminating the faces of the rocks piled around them as if this small shelter was the only place in the world. Right now, he wished it could be, because Flora was there with him.

‘Now that we’re here...’ she flashed him a knowing smile ‘...what is it you want me to say?’

She knew exactly what he’d done. And it seemed that she didn’t see the need for tact any more.

‘Say whatever you want to say. What’s said around a camp fire generally stays there.’

She thought for a moment. ‘All right, then, since you probably have a lot more experience of camp-fire truth or dare games, you can start. What’s the thing you most want?’

Tricky question. Aksel wanted a lot of things, but he concentrated on the one that he could wish for with a good conscience.

‘Keeping Mette from harm.’

‘That’s a good one. You’ll be needing to get some practice in before she hits her teens.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Aksel explored the idea for a moment and then held up his hand to silence Flora. ‘On second thoughts, I don’t think I want to know.’

‘That’s just as well, really. Nothing prepares any of us for our teens.’

She was smiling, but there was quiet sadness in her tone. Aksel decided that if he didn’t call her bluff now, he was never going to. This wasn’t about Mette any more, it was all about Flora.

‘All right. I’m going to turn the question on its head. What would you avoid if you could go back in time?’

‘How long have you got?’

‘There’s plenty of fuel for the fire here. I’ll listen for as long as I can convince you to stay.’

She stared into the fire, giving a little sigh. ‘Okay. Number one is don’t fret over spots. Number two is don’t fall in love.’

‘The spots I can do something about. I’m not sure that I’m the one to advise anyone about how not to fall in love.’ Aksel was rapidly losing control of his own feelings for Flora.

‘All you can do is be there for her when she finds herself with a broken heart.’

The thought was terrifying. But he wouldn’t have to contend with Mette’s teenage years just yet, and the question of Flora’s heart was a more pressing one at the moment. He would never forgive himself if he lost this chance to ask.

‘Who broke yours?’

‘Mine?’ Her voice broke a little over the word.

‘Yes. What was his name?’

‘Thomas Grant. I was nineteen. What was the name of the first girl who dumped you?’

Aksel thought hard. ‘I don’t remember. I went away on a summer camping trip with my friends, and by the time I got back she was with someone else. I don’t think I broke her heart, and she didn’t break mine.’

‘If you can’t remember her name, she probably didn’t.’ Flora was trying to keep this light, but these memories were obviously sad ones.’

‘So... Thomas Grant. What did he do?’

‘He...’ Flora shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. Aksel could tell that it did. He waited, hoping against agonised hope that if she looked into her own heart, and maybe his, she’d find some reason to go on.

‘I went to university in Edinburgh to study physiotherapy. He was in the year above me, studying history...’ She let out a sigh. ‘I fell in love with him. I didn’t tell my parents for a while, they were in Italy and I thought I’d introduce him to them first. I think my mum probably worked it out, though, and so Dad would have known as well.’

‘An open secret, then.’ It didn’t sound so bad, but this had clearly hurt Flora. Aksel supposed that most really bad love affairs started well. The only real way to avoid hurt, was never to fall in love.

‘Yes. We decided to tell our parents over the summer. We’d been talking about living together during our second year and...he seemed very serious. He even spoke about getting engaged. So I asked him to come to Italy with me for a fortnight. Mum and Dad really liked him and we had a great holiday. Alec wasn’t too well that summer...’

Something prickled at the back of Aksel’s neck. He knew that the end of this story wasn’t a good one, and wondered what it could have to do with Flora’s brother. His hand shook as he picked up a stick, poking the fire.