Page 47 of Not Just for Christmas

He played with the dog for a few minutes until Gus flopped down again, panting. Dylan buried his fingers in the dog’s fur, scratching behind his ears until Gus’s breaths turned into soft sleepy snuffles. Dylan carried on stroking him; it was quite meditative. He’d love a dog of his own, but it wasn’t possible at the moment; he was hardly ever at home. Another thing to add to his wish list along with the family that had so far eluded him. Dylan watched the dog’s paws twitch in his sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to switch off from work totally.

Like today. He’d loved being with Lucy and Sam, going to Sam’s school, playing piano with the teacher; he’d felt part of something special, but normal too. And then Will had called, with details of the media interviews he’d arranged for him, pulling him back to his reality.

Dylan shoved his new cell phone into the back pocket of his jeans. It had been a pain when his old one crashed last night, but now he kind of wished it hadn’t been so easy to replace. After his initial panic, he’d enjoyed the freedom of being out of contact. Maybe he’d make an effort to put his cell phone down more this holiday, and be present. Take control over when and who had access to him. Learn when to work, and when to step back.

Jack had been a workaholic too, but somehow he’d still played hard.

Dylan thought of the good times they’d had together over the years at Craggy Bay. Hot summers, cold beers, surfing at sunrise, barbecues at sunset. The best waves had been in winter when the beach was empty and the water so cold it took his breath away. Lucy waiting on the sand for them with thick towels and hot tea, laughing at their madness.

So unfair that that had been where Jack had lost his life. The ocean had been Jack’s happiest place and now it would always hold painful memories for his widow and son. Dylan hadn’t been to Craggy Bay beach since, there’d been no time when he’d flown over for the funeral. But he had a sudden urge to fill his lungs with salty air, and watch the waves break over the sand. Maybe he’d head out to the ocean tomorrow. It would do him good, clear his head. His phone could stay behind.

‘Are you comfy down there?’ Lucy was looking at him, bemused.

He was miles away and took a moment to orient himself; still sitting beside Gus, his hand tangled in the animal’s fur, he hadn’t heard her come downstairs.

‘Surprisingly, yes.’ Dylan got to his feet and stretched. ‘So now what? Do you have anything that needs doing? Can I help with anything?’

‘Sam’s asked if you’d go up and tell him a story.’ She pulled out a chair from the kitchen table, sat down and opened her laptop. ‘So if you don’t mind, it would give me a chance to catch up on some admin.’

‘My pleasure.’

He took the stairs two at a time and found Sam already tucked up in bed, one arm around a well-loved stuffed rabbit.

‘Can you tell me a real story, not out of a book?’ Sam asked as Dylan squeezed himself onto the bottom bunk bed beside him.

‘Shall I tell you about how your daddy and I became best friends?’

The little boy nodded sleepily. ‘I like stories about Daddy because sometimes I forget what he looks like.’

Dylan took a beat to gather himself while his heart twisted in sorrow.

‘We can’t let that happen,’ he said gruffly. ‘So, a long time ago, I came to Craggy Bay because I heard it was a really cool place for surfing.’

‘My daddy was a good surfer.’ Sam snuggled lower under his duvet.

‘He was. He was there riding the waves like a pro, and I was falling off every two seconds, getting tired and cross with myself.’

Sam giggled. ‘And then what?’

‘After a little while I was cold and tired, so I got out of the water and met your mom and we got talking.’

‘What about?’

‘All sorts of things. The weather, and where home was, and the best places to go in Craggy Bay.’ Dylan remembered it all like it was yesterday. Lucy so cute reading her book, all bundled up in a blanket, him plucking up the courage to ask her out, only for her to turn him down. ‘And then your dad joined us and invited me to go watch a band with them and their friends at The Otter.’

Sam’s eyes widened. ‘My friend Tilly lives there. She has got a really big TV and is allowed lemonade and crisps on Saturday night.’

Dylan grinned. ‘That’s right. Except this was a long time ago, before you and Tilly were born. Anyway, we had so much fun together that night that your dad invited me to come and stay here at the farm with him, and your nanny and grandad. But on the day I was supposed to be leaving Devon and going back to America I had my rucksack stolen.’

Sam’s eyes widened further and he gasped. ‘Did a burglar get it?’

‘I think so.’ Dylan smoothed Sam’s hair off his worried brow. ‘I never got anything back. I lost all the cool things I’d bought on my travels. I had no money, no passport, not even any clothes and I really needed to get back to New York for a big meeting.’

‘Oh no.’ Sam clutched his bunny tighter. ‘This is really sad.’

Belatedly, Dylan realised that he was supposed to be telling Sam a gentle story to send him to sleep, not scare the kid half to death.

‘It might have been sad,’ said Dylan. ‘But luckily for me, I had a superhero looking after me.’