Christmas Eve: Doorstep Delivery. Sarah Morgan
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The taxi driver chuckled sympathetically. ‘Uncoordinated, are you? I have a sister like that. Always falling over, she is.’ He flicked on the windscreen wipers to clear the snow. ‘It’s been great chatting to you, Hayley. Cheered up my Christmas Eve, you have. Feel as though I’ve known you for years.’
Remembering just how frank she’d been, Hayley squirmed with embarrassment. She’d said far too much. As usual. He knew everything about her except her bra size. Come to think of it, he probably knew that, too, because she had mentioned that she always felt nervous in strapless dresses. In her head she could hear her stepbrother’s mocking voice saying, Hayley doesn’t have an ‘off’ switch. But what was she supposed to do? She’d been in the car for twenty minutes and it would have been rude not to speak. ‘I’m glad you were the one who picked me up from the station, Jack. And I hope you get that hip of yours sorted out soon.’
‘I’m sure I will. The doctors are very clever around here. Good with their hands, you know?’ He gave her a knowing wink and Hayley blushed, wondering what had possessed her to confess that particular bit of her life history.
‘How much do I owe you, Jack?’
‘Nothing. Haven’t enjoyed a fare so much all year. You made me laugh so hard I almost had the car off the road at that last corner,’ he said cheerfully, setting his meter to zero. ‘And if you really want my opinion, I think your family should be ashamed of themselves. If my daughter were a midwife I’d be proud as punch—I wouldn’t be telling her she was wasting her talents and should have been a lawyer. Where would the world be if we all picked our jobs on the basis of how much they pay? No wonder you wanted to come up here and escape. Now, forget about the lot of them and have a good time. I hope the romance works out for you. With any luck he’ll propose by New Year and then you can invite me to your wedding.’
Wedding?
Had she actually confessed that bit of her fantasy?
‘If there’s a wedding, you’ll be there. I’ll need someone rooting for me on my side of the church,’ Hayley said weakly, holding onto the door and wishing she hadn’t revealed quite so much to someone she’d known for twenty minutes. It wasn’t so bad to have told him why she wasn’t going home to her family for Christmas, but it was probably a mistake to have told him about that night.
But she was excited! And happy! And it was all because of a man.
At least now she was in the same country as him, she thought dreamily. The thought that he might be within miles of her made her want to sing and dance. It was only the knowledge that dancing might leave her with two broken ankles that stopped her from twirling in the snow.
That and the fact that she didn’t want to make a bad impression on her new employer.
Brushing the snow from her coat, she thought to herself that for once—just once—it would be nice to be a naturally elegant and dignified person. She would have liked to arrive at her new job as housekeeper looking like one of those women you saw in magazines—long black coat, elegant boots, lipstick…
‘You’ve got snow in your hair, love,’ the taxi driver said helpfully, and then nodded at the house behind her. ‘Well, this is it. High Fell Barn. Nice place. Smart. Like something from one of those fancy architect designed home programmes you see on the TV. I know you haven’t met the family but I can tell you from looking at this that they’re loaded. I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas here myself. Starting to think you might be right to ditch the whole family thing.’
‘Oh, no, I think family is wonderful,’ Hayley said hastily, dragging snow out of her hair with her fingers. ‘Just not my family. And they’d probably be all right if I was different. They’re all scarily clever and co-ordinated and have really well-paid jobs and apartments with big windows and glass—you know the sort of thing. I was the runt of the litter. Well, actually I came from a different litter because they’re my step-siblings. My mum married their dad and they never forgave me for that.’ She was doing it again, talking, talking, talking. ‘Anyway, enough of that,’ she said lamely, and Jack smiled at her.
‘Stepfamilies can be complicated. Everyone knows that. Lots of jealousy there.’
‘I don’t think my step-siblings are jealous,’ Hayley said humbly. ‘More embarrassed to be officially associated with me, I think.’
Whoops—here comes Hayley. How many babies has she dropped this year?
Not for the first time Hayley indulged in a swift fantasy about her acid-tongued stepbrother choking on a chicken bone and her saving his life with a skilfully performed Heimlich manoeuvre. Of course, he’d be blubbering with gratitude, her whole family open-mouthed with awe at her hidden talents, begging her forgiveness for having so grossly underestimated her.
We had no idea, Hayley.
Trying not to dwell on how inadequate her family made her feel, Hayley stared at the huge glass windows and the snow-covered roof of the barn. Despite the size of the place, it was the most welcoming building she’d ever seen. Lights twinkled along the front of the barn and through the window she could see a haphazardly decorated Christmas tree standing guard over piles of brightly wrapped parcels.
To the side of the barn was a wide stream in full flow, the winter silence disturbed by the roar and rush of white water as it frothed down from the top of the icy fells.
‘That’s the beck.’ The taxi driver nodded. ‘That’s what we call it in these parts. In summer it’s no more than a trickle of water but now, with the snow melting…’
‘It’s fantastic.’ After the urban chaos of Chicago, Hayley savoured the sound of the water smashing over the rocks on its way down the mountain.
Behind the barn stretched acres of fields, sparkling white with snow, and beyond that the forest and the mountains. Pine trees stood tall and straight as sentries either side of the barn, tiny twinkling lights twisted through their branches.
It was like something from a Christmas card. She half expected to see Santa and a team of reindeer hauling a large sack towards the gently smoking chimney.
‘It’s enough to lift your spirits, isn’t it?’ The taxi driver grinned at her. ‘Talking of which, it’s time I went home and lifted spirits with the wife. Brandy is her tipple. You never know—I might get lucky. Hope you do, too.’
‘I don’t know—I’m starting to think this might have been a mistake,’ Hayley confessed, cautiously letting go of the car door and pushing her hands into her coat pockets for extra warmth. ‘I don’t even know where the guy lives. I just know it’s the Lake District.’
‘But you know he works at the hospital so he should be easy to track down once Christmas is over.’
Desperate for reassurance, she bit her lip. ‘Do you think it’s crazy to have come all this way to find a guy I’ve only met once?’
‘I think it’s brave.’
‘Brave