Page 80 of Not Just for Christmas

I sat on the sofa while he fussed around me, bringing a table nearer for my mug and offering me extra cushions.

‘I’m not an invalid,’ I grumbled, as he laid a blanket over my knees.

‘Let me be nice, OK?’ he said.

He laid a fire, just as Sam had shown him, scrunching up newspaper, piling kindling in a wigwam pattern. Their bond was already stronger than it had ever been. Having Dylan here was so good for Sam; I hadn’t appreciated how much difference having a man around would make to him.

‘Sam is really going to miss you,’ I said, tucking my feet up under the blanket.

A shadow passed across his face. ‘It’s mutual.’

He struck a match, lighting the paper in several places. Flames of orange flickered in the grate and the kindling began to crackle as the heat spread through it.

Next he lit a scented candle on the coffee table and put on some music. This was the first time in two years that I’d felt truly cared for and my bones sank further into the sofa. Sometimes being the only adult around here was lonely.

It wouldn’t just be Sam who was going to miss Dylan when he left.

‘May I?’ Dylan indicated the space next to me and I nodded.

He settled beside me, and we rearranged the blanket between us to cover us both.

‘You know – at least I hope you know – how important you are to me,’ said Dylan, gazing into the fire.

‘Ditto.’ I stared into my mug.

He turned to me, his gaze gentle. ‘So help me understand why you were so upset today.’

I breathed in and out, taking my time to find the right words.

‘You were at the beach with my son, and you didn’t answer your phone.’

‘Sam has been telling me off for being on my cell phone. He taught me that you show someone that you love them by being present. You can’t do that if you’re checking your screen every five minutes. I put it in the beach bag and prioritised him. I’m sorry that I missed your call, but that was why.’

A wave of guilt washed over me. ‘You love him?’

Dylan smiled softly. ‘Yep. That kid has really got to me. He’s smart and funny, and inquisitive, but as well as that, he’s really thoughtful.’

‘He’s a good boy.’ My heart swelled with pride, even as my face burned with embarrassment. ‘I apologise for screaming at you.’

‘I get that it’s winter, but I’d made sure he’d be warm enough,’ Dylan reassured me. ‘We’d even managed to zip him into his wetsuit. I’d got us hot drinks and snacks in the bag, and I’d told him we wouldn’t be long in the water.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ I shook my head, willing him to understand. ‘While you and Sam were having fun, I relived my worst nightmare – Jack not answering his phone because it was too late, he was already lost to the sea.’

Dylan’s shoulders sagged. ‘And you’re scared history will repeat itself. Even though Sam was safe with me.’

‘He wasn’t safe, he fell!’ I cried. ‘He went under and disappeared. And all I could think was that if I lost Sam the way I lost Jack then I don’t …’ I stopped, unable to voice my darkest fear – that without my son, I didn’t know if I’d want to carry on living.

‘I’m sorry I put you through that.’ He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. ‘But surely you’ll want Sam to grow up loving the ocean, like his friends?’

I exhaled, trying to shake the picture my mind had created of the moment Jack lost consciousness, and his body gave up its fight with the rip tide that pulled him out to sea.

‘If Jack can lose his life in the sea, any one of us can. And that’s not me being paranoid. That’s fact. We don’t go to the beach anymore. Not summer, not winter, never,’ I said, shuddering. ‘And I can’t get away from it. Half of the fields on the farm overlook it. Most of Craggy Bay’s social life takes place on the beach. And now Sam’s getting older it’s getting harder to make excuses not to go.’

‘Oh man. I feel for you, Lucy. We had so many good times on that beach,’ said Dylan.

‘We did.’ I smiled faintly. It had been our go-to venue for parties. ‘It was where we met you.’

‘A good day.’