Page 14 of A Merry Little Christmas

They both laughed.

‘Look, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll pop in and visit her in the morning,’ Nell promised, ‘and try to at least get her to agree to scale back events in the shop.’

‘If you could also manage her expectations about the house move, I’d be very grateful,’ Cole sighed. ‘If we’d have had one of my new builds, we’d have been in months ago, but Merry was holding out for the perfect home.’

Nell grinned. ‘And you found it.’

‘We found one that fitted her bill,’ he argued, ‘but my idea of perfect does not include rising damp, dodgy electrics, gurgling plumbing and a roof which has tiles sledging off it at the slightest sign of a breeze.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Nell said without a huge amount of conviction.

Merry had fallen in love at first sight with the old Victorian house on the outskirts of Wetherley. ‘You can tell it’s a happy home,’ she’d said dreamily. ‘There’s a patch of peeling wallpaper in the study and when I tore it, there were layers and layers of old paper underneath. Just think of all the happy times that house has seen, all the families who’ve lived in it, the Christmases, the summers …’

Cole had commented that all he could see was the hours ahead of him stripping off all that wallpaper. But for Merry, the house represented a proper home, a place to put down roots and finally settle down. And it was that sense of security and belonging that Nell knew was more important to Merry than anything else.

‘Thanks, I appreciate it. OK, I’ll leave you to it. And is everything all right with you? Sorry, I should have asked. I’m just so …’ He waved his hands around his head. ‘Taken up with the baby, I can’t think straight.’

Nell conjured up a smile. Cole knew nothing about her own pregnancy woes. She’d made Merry swear not to say anything to anyone about their attendance at the fertility clinic until they had good news to share. ‘All fine, thanks. And try to get some rest yourself, you look terrible.’

He laughed and kissed her cheek again. ‘That’s what I like about you, Nell. Your unwavering dedication to telling the truth.’

Her smile slipped a little; was that all about to change? Could she bring herself to tell Olek the truth? It was time to go home and face the music.

Chapter 5

Nell

Olek’s and Max’s laughter was just about audible over the sound of singing coming from the kitchen when Nell got home. Max had got into music over the last year and liked to educate his dad about his new favourite bands whenever he came over. Olek’s musical taste hadn’t changed since Kim Wilde was in the charts, and it always made Nell smile to see him gamely feigning appreciation of his son’s obscure indie bands.

She paused in front of the mirror in the hallway and looked at her reflection. She rarely wore make-up, so at least she didn’t have smudged mascara. But there were telltale signs of her mood in the puffiness around her eyes and set of her mouth. She considered running upstairs and trying to do some damage limitation with foundation and blusher, but it was too late; the volume of the music went down, and Olek’s broad figure filled the open kitchen doorway.

‘Here’s my girl.’ He crossed the hall in a few strides and folded her into his arms, kissing her warmly. And then, tilting her chin up towards him, said softly, ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine.’ Nell felt her pulse speed up; what was she going to tell him? She still hadn’t decided. She leaned her forehead against his chest. ‘Shall we talk later?’

‘Of course,’ he murmured, giving her a squeeze.

‘Hey, Nell!’ Max called from the kitchen. ‘Dad, let me tell her.’

‘Hey, sunshine, tell me what?’ She raised her eyebrows.

Olek glanced over his shoulder at his son and grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your thunder.’

Olek’s English was word-perfect, and yet despite being here for over half of his life, he had still retained his Polish accent, which Nell had found very sexy when they first met, and still did.

They joined Max in the kitchen and Olek returned to making the dough for the pierogi while Max fetched them all drinks. He took three cans of Diet Coke out of the fridge. Olek opened his, but Nell shook her head.

‘I fancy a glass of wine tonight,’ she said, pulling a bottle from the wine rack. ‘A nice full-bodied Malbec, I think.’

Olek did a double take and said nothing, but she knew what he was thinking. They’d both cut down on their alcohol consumption, and didn’t drink at all during the week, to optimise their chances of having a healthy baby. Nell’s choice of drink was as clear a signal as any that something significant had happened at the clinic.

‘So, come on,’ she said, taking a seat at the table. ‘The suspense is killing me, Max.’

Her stepson set his can down and stretched his arms above his head nonchalantly. ‘Nah, it’s nothing,’ he teased.

Olek turned the ball of dough out onto the work surface and began to knead it. ‘It’s not nothing at all. I’m so proud of you, son.’

Max grinned. ‘Thanks, Dad. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet. There’s a long way to go.’