Unbelievably touched, I didn’t reply for fear of my voice cracking and giving away the strength of my emotions. I let him steer me gently inside, where we marvelled at the clever way everything fitted in so neatly and looked so very smart. I got a couple of glasses down for Theo, who pretended to serve Constance and Coco drinks.
‘I’m afraid we only have gin, madam, not whisky,’ he said to Constance, his face wreathed with smiles. ‘But I can make yours extra enormous if you like.’
She roared with laughter.
‘That’s my boy! Always liked a bartender with a heavy hand.’
I sneaked a look at Alexander, who was gazing at his giggling son with bemused wonder. Constance and Coco toasted each other, then took their turn looking inside the van with Theo, while Alexander and I completed the paperwork. We waved Tara and Greg off until their little red car was out of sight, then all beamed around at one another.
‘It’s an absolute bloody triumph!’ said Constance, thumping Alexander on the back so hard he coughed. ‘You’ll be the talk of the Christmas Fayre.’
‘Thanks to Fallon,’ he said. ‘This was all her idea.’
‘Not my wallet, though,’ I said, ‘and not my risk. All credit to you for going with it. I’m glad it looks so good.’
‘Where are you going to keep it?’ asked Coco. ‘In one of the outbuildings?’
‘Yes,’ replied Alexander. ‘I’ve made a space in the old garage, and we’ll keep it there. In fact, I’ll take it round now and then we can get on with stocking and decorating it. Theo, will you go with your lovely aunts and get dressed for the day, and Fallon and I will see you round the back in ten minutes?’
The little boy nodded happily, gave his father a quick hug, and the three of them went back inside, leaving Alexander and me together. I instantly went into efficiency mode, awkward at being alone with him.
‘Right, you’ve got the key, haven’t you? Let’s start her up! I’ll go and shut the flap.’
I scuttled away before he could reply and secured the back of the van, feeling it judder as he turned on the ignition. I trotted back around to the passenger side and started to hop in. Of course, I had forgotten that the van was left-hand drive, and I almost ended up in Alexander’s lap.
‘Whoa, steady there!’ he said as I half fell back out again. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, yep, fine!’ I called as I dashed around to climb in the other side. ‘Wrong driver’s side,’ I explained sheepishly, as I buckled myself in.
He laughed.
‘We’re both going to do that a lot over the next week or so,’ he said, and started to move the van slowly forward. We chugged around the side of the house to the stone outbuildings where the distillery was housed, then he stopped, jumped out and opened a pair of large double doors on one, before getting back in and expertly reversing the van inside. He quieted the ignition and turned to me.
‘Fallon, before Theo comes back and we get busy, I just wanted to say that yesterday – well, that is…I’m feeling very happy.’ He reached across and took my hand. ‘No pressure or anything, that’s it.’
I squeezed his hand and didn’t even try to curb the huge smile that was spreading across my face.
‘Me too.’
‘Good.’
Then he leant across and kissed me again, and all the same fireworks as yesterday fizzed and exploded like crazy inside my body, maybe more. We broke away and he cupped my face in his hand. I could feel the uneven scar against my cheek. He gazed at me as if I were the most precious thing he had ever seen, and all I could do was lose myself in his eyes. Who knows how long we would have stayed like that, the cramped cab of the van and the oily smell of the dark garage the most romantic scene I had ever experienced, if Theo had not come running across the yard outside, yelling that he had finished getting dressed. We stepped out and greeted him and I surprised myself by discovering that I was looking forward to spending the day with him.
‘Right, we’ve got lots to do,’ said Alexander, switching on the overhead lights to reveal a space that was bigger than expected. ‘The Christmas Fayre is approaching quickly, but we’ve got plenty of other commitments – including visiting the sanctuary – so we need to get lots done today.’
I knew that he liked to keep afternoons free to be with Theo, of course, and with the visits to the sanctuary and the Nativity rehearsals that would soon be starting up, we were pushed for time. But rather than feeling stressed and resentful, as I doubtless would have done a few weeks ago, I was energised by the challenge.
‘Absolutely. Now the first thing to do is make sure we have some music.’ I pulled my phone out of my pocket. ‘And as luckwould have it, there is a cheesy Christmas playlist here ready to go.’ I tapped the screen a few times and pressed ‘play’ and the strains of ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day’ floated reedily out of the phone’s speaker.
‘I can improve on that,’ said Alexander and, reaching up to a shelf, brought down a small speaker. ‘Bluetooth,’ he said by way of explanation. I took it from him, tapped a few more times and soon the song filled the small space.
‘Nowwe’re ready to get started,’ I declared. ‘Alexander, you and I should maybe get going on stocking the bottles, and Theo, do you think you could be in charge of the blackboard?’
He nodded eagerly.
‘What do I have to do?’
‘Come back up to the house with me and we can get everything you’ll need,’ I said, smiling at his and Alexander’s confused faces. This was a surprise I had prepared for both of them. As we started walking, Theo, to my great surprise, grabbed my hand and started chattering away about Christmas, telling me why robins were traditionally the birds of the season and wondering if all the creatures at the sanctuary would be given stockings. Luckily for me, he was more delivering a stream of consciousness than wishing to hold a conversation, because my poor brain was too busy trying to adjust itself to holding a child’s hand to be able to formulate coherent sentences. I felt a curious mixture of alarmed, awkward and incredibly touched. Even I, with my little experience of small people, could appreciate that Theo’s taking of my hand was, particularly for a child who seemed to struggle with social stuff, a gesture of warmth and trust. That was nice. At the same time, I was terrified of responding incorrectly and offending him – was I holding his hand too tightly, or too loosely? How did we let go? Would Alexander mind this small intimacy, or might he think I was ‘doing an Annabel’ and trying to close in on his little family?
